Two years ago today was my cerclage day. All the meds were in, I was on the table ready to go, and numb from the waist down. The team of perinatologists were underway to stitching me up. I remember praying for the stitch to go in easily without complications and that it would work at keeping my little guy in there for at least another 10 weeks. I remember being teary eyed because I was so scared and worked up. All of these events happened so fast, it was a lot to digest in such a short period of time.
Ten minutes into the procedure the doctors stopped. I definitely wasn't expecting what was coming next. They told me they were so sorry but couldn't continue because they saw an infection brewing. If they sewed me up it would make me septic and wouldn't stop the bag of water from eventually breaking. It was just a matter of time. Labor was inevitable and we would lose our son.
I literally broke down into the deepest crying session I had ever experienced. My heart and spirit were broken. My dreams were shattered. My son whom I loved and carried for 5 1/2 months was going to die.
I remember the doctors bringing wade in and we broke down together. This was not how we envisioned becoming parents. It wasn't supposed to be like this. Losing our son wasn't even something we thought was possible. We went from having the best Christmas to living the worst nightmare.
Needless to say, we shed endless tears the rest of the day and night. All our family cried along with us. We didn't sleep a wink. I kept trying to wake up from this horrible nightmare but couldn't. It was real and it was happening to me.
It was the beginning of the end for my sweet innocent baby boy and the girl I used to be. I was about to be forever changed.
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