So I’m going to interrupt the telling of my sons story to share something that I have written for my son and everyone that worked with him in the NICU and out of the NICU over the past year. It’s hard believe he is here and he has reached the age of 1 (8 1/2 months adjusted). It’s a long poem but his story has not been short and every bit of it has gotten him here to this day. Happy Birthday little man and thank you to everyone that has helped us get to this point!
I have been debating in my head over and over how and where on earth to start with my blog again, especially with all that has happened over the past 6 months. Honestly, I still don’t even know. Everything was going well for us. We just had a nice birthday party for my husband over the weekend with friends and family. My health was about as good as it could get, careers for my husband and I were great (and still are), our daughter well… she’s always great, and our son was on track, looking healthy in the womb. Our surrogate was doing everything right. Eating healthy, moderate excersize, vitamins etc. She was sending us weekly photos of her belly growth so we could save them and see him grow. We recorded all of our voices reading books to him so she could put headphones over her belly and play them for him as he was around the phase where he could hear. A countdown to baby chalk block was centered on our kitchen table as we all took turns changing the number of days each day. We had yet to feel him moving in her belly but she said he was a big kicker. Kicked her 24/7. Everything was perfect. We were set for a follow up appointment January 19 at 8 AM with ultrasound to check on how our little man was developing.
January 19 he would be 24 weeks 5 days. Just over the half way point.