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Milan

My daughter was born November 3, 2006; very, very early at six months and two days. She was only 1 pound, 6.9 ounces. I was terrified! A preemie—now what? Fear turned into power; my husband and I asked every question imaginable. We read books, checked the Internet, and bunkered down for the long road ahead. I have more medical knowledge in my head than I would like to know.

We watched her go from near death experiences to beating the odds. Milan traveled between four different hospitals, had numerous surgical procedures, and amazed all those involved with her care. My job was very simple. Be involved, informed, pump milk, and hold my baby often. We were exhausted. Finally Milan was able to come home for one month, then back to the hospital she went. Milan came home two other times and my husband and I both saved her life and got her back to the hospital. The final ride to the hospital I felt defeated. I told God, “Whatever your will is, I am ready to accept it.” Was he waiting on me? I had been fighting for my baby’s life for ten months at that time. 

Milan was transferred to a children’s hospital the same day. I remember holding her Tuesday night with all the wires and cords attached trying to make her feel more comfortable and saying, “Let mommy hold you because I don’t want to say I didn’t get to hold you again.” Very early the next morning we received a call from the hospital telling us to come quickly. Well quickly was a forty-five minute drive for us but we got there. I knew as we pulled into the covered garage than my baby was gone. I held her tiny body and looked at her beautiful face and thought, she had to die for me to see her entire face and body without wires, monitors, and oxygen. She looked comfortable, relieved, for once at peace. I know, you’re thinking, ten months, how did she die? Milan had Pulmonary Vein Stenosis … there is no cure.

How did I feel? Heartbroken, hurt, anger, and strangely relief. I’d rather see her gone than to stay and suffer in this world. Milan was supposed to be our last, my husband and I both decided we couldn’t do it again … it’s just too painful.

Fast forward to 2008, we are sixteen weeks pregnant and ecstatic. I feel in my spirit that this baby is going to be absolutely perfect. Milan’s birth has taught me a lot. I am a better person because of her. She has taught me not to sweat the small stuff, expect the unexpected, love, and most of all patience. As I go through this pregnancy my experience is bitter sweet. As other moms are hoping for ten fingers and toes I will be hopeful for a term delivery. The sex of the baby, doesn’t matter, just don’t come early. As you go about your way be thankful for the life that’s growing inside of you and be the very best mother you can be. I know Milan felt love while she was here and that’s all that matters to me.

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