All of my life problems have one simple solution, a hug from my daughter. (warning TMI alert).

Being a parent is one of the most challenging jobs in the world. You wear so many different hats, take multiple jobs, and play multiple roles. You have to be the firm hand, their best friend, protector, and that's just to name a few. From the first moment you hold them until they take their first steps (and so on, that's just where I am at right now) you realize, very quickly your world has just become theirs. You would walk on a river full of legos just to ensure their happiness. On June 3rd, 2017 my happiness was born.

When I first found out that I was pregnant, believe me, I was scared for my life. I was a young-ish mom trying to get her life together. I swore up and down I was never having children. I never thought I'd be a good mother or even a responsible one. I wasn't sure the path I was going, but I had a good enough job as did Jeff. Saying my pregnancy was tough, is putting it lightly. Even when I took the pregnancy test it said "error". ( I even bought the super duper expensive one lol ).

The first eight weeks of my pregnancy I was vomiting profusely. Time progressed and I couldn't even keep water down. In fact, I was working and threw up all over my work car because I tried to take a couple gulps of water. (and I was in Cape May heading to Barnegat so you can imagine how that must have smelled). The vomiting seemed like it was never going to stop. We landed ourselves into the hospital, as I was suffering from dehydration. 

Laying there in the hospital, hooked up to my IV bag I was greeted by many doctors and nurses. Because I was only twelve weeks along, they kept me on the emergency room side, versus the maternity side. A male nurse came and took me to ultrasound. The doctors assured me that they just wanted to make sure the baby was getting enough nutrients as I was not able to provide them due to the excessive vomiting. After a few hours, a doctor greeted us with some bad news. 

Our baby was diagnosed with something called placenta previa. Placenta Previa as well as a hole in the lining of the sac. The doctor went onto explain her chance of survival was 50/50. If the issues cleared up themselves then our baby would be completely fine. I continued the pregnancy, as normal as possible even though my mind was racing. A friend of mine donated a doppler machine. It helped eased my mind a little bit because I was able to hear Hannah's little heartbeat. 

It seemed like forever until the next ultrasound. I was having a few weird pains, and nausea even continued most days. The OB gave me a script for Zofran, but it only helped occasionally. We waited for the elevator, and by this time I had picked off all of my nail polish (one of my nervous habits). I was so afraid of the progress of the diagnosis. I laid back on the table, and the technician put cooling gel onto my belly and began to take pictures of little Hannah. I could hear her strong heartbeat, so that was a good sign. After 15 minutes, the technician left the room.

She came back again and told me the doctor would read me my results. I was 20 weeks at this point, and we already had begun buying baby stuff. In fact, we had pretty much planned and painted her room. Hannah had an identity and we couldn't imagine life without her. The doctor came in to talk to us, she reassured us the placenta previa issue had cleared and Hannah was perfect! We were so happy, we basically danced out of the hospital. 

Things seemed to be going great. We were just about finished Hannah's room and everyone was growing more excited for her arrival. I decided I was going to work as long as I could. I was only driving, so I figured my job wouldn't put too much stress on the baby. Five weeks had flown by since the last ultrasound, and we still continued to listen to Hannah's heartbeat faithfully on the doppler. Life was perfect...

It was almost April, and the doctor had just taken me out of bowling. She said I was still able to work, but lifting anything heavy wasn't a good idea for me as I had been in and out of the emergency room as well as the other issues. I went to work like normal that day. I loaded my car and went about my run. I made it to Mt. Laurel, and suddenly another car never stopped and slammed into my car. I flew forward, and my stomach hit the steering wheel. I called my boss, as well as the cops and an ambulance. I called Jeff frantically and told him what happened. He began to lose his mind. He sped up to Barnegat (where my office was) from Cape May. The ambulance on sight checked me out, but they let me know that they didn't have any way to check on the baby. As instructed we went to get an emergency Ultra Sound...

We waited nervously, Jeff pacing and I was fidgeting so much. I felt like I could barely breathe. All of this time, we had been working so hard to keep our little one safe. I thought of all of the things I could have done differently. I had to calm myself down because the thought of losing my baby, not holding my baby completely broke me down. I had never felt worried or hurt like this in my life. I thought about the carelessness of the woman who hit me because she was taking a call on her cellphone. I thought of my family and friends heartbreak if they found out we had lost her. I couldn't bear it, and the tears kept coming. 

To our surprise, the ultrasound showed no changes. In my eyes, it was a miracle. We had dodged yet another bullet. It was at that moment I knew my little girl was a fighter, just like her momma. The doctor instructed us to come back for another ultrasound in a week in case anything developed. We didn't give that one single thought, because the weight of the world was lifted off of our shoulders... or so we thought. We went for the follow-up ultrasound and our miracle quickly vanished when the doctors told us our baby's kidneys were blocked. All of the fears came back to me, I couldn't believe it. 

The doctor informed us that Hannah would require surgery after birth if an antibiotic didn't clear it up. They said that we wouldn't truly know the outcome until we had her. They scheduled one final ultrasound and again we were on our way. The drive home was quiet, and once we reached the house both of us wandered around aimlessly doing tasks that didn't seem to matter. We kept looking at each other. I'm not sure what Jeff was thinking, but I knew exactly what was running through my mind. "What did we do to deserve this?" Finally, we pulled out the doppler to listen to our little fighter's heartbeat again. 

It was strong and fast, just as it always had been. Hearing it brought a smile to my face. Everything the doctors had told us didn't matter to me because I knew that my little girl would battle through it. I knew that this was going to be like any obstacle that she faced in life. All I could was my best to stay strong for her and guide her on the right path. Even now, all I could do is just that. So, I decided right then and there to stop being sad. I started to become hopeful. I kept my spirits positive.

We arrived at the ultrasound (which was the second to the last before I had her) and the doctor didn't have much to say as the diagnosis was the same. He did, however, want to double check her because her legs were SO long. (They were measuring 42 weeks and I was only 37ish weeks at the time.) He didn't have anything negative to say or any bad news. He left us with "Looks like you might have a little basketball player on your hands". 

Over the next couple weeks, with Hannah's due date rapidly approaching the nerves set in. I was so scared of how badly it was going to hurt. I wasn't sure if I was going to know how to get her out of me. I was worried about my water breaking in public (silly I know lol). There were so many unknowns. However, I did notice I had been leaking for a couple days. Which I knew meant little miss was coming any day now. Her due date passed, and the doctor scheduled an ultrasound. She said once we have that utlrasound we would start the induction Monday (it was Thursday).

For the first time in the entire pregnancy, I sent Jeff to work and told him not to come to the ultrasound. We already knew they were going to induce me and little Hannah wasn't giving us any signs she was coming before that (minus the leaking which I was told was pee???). I lay down and the nurse starts taking the ultrasound. I look over to the screen and I see A BUNCH of red lines.

-Listen, by no means am I a doctor, but I know that red isn't usually associated as good color.-

Just as an I thought I hear the nurse mumble "Uh Oh...." I look nervously at my mom, and my eyes widen. She leans in to listen because I am freaking out. I say "UH OH WHAT?!" Then the woman starts singing "Happy Birthday to you..." I am yelling at my mom at this point "OH CHRIST CALL JEFF." The one time I sent him to work, and of course, today's the day. 

Oh? and those red lines? The fluid that I was leaking wasn't me peeing ;). Her fluid was supposed to be a 7, and it was only a 3. They got me into a room, and Jeff rushes in the door "DID I MISS IT???" He looks in to see still a pregnant me laying on the bed and calms down. I'll skip a few of the details from that point and to when Hannah comes into the world. However, I will tell you that I was in labor for 24 hours, and I only told Jeff to "shut the fuck up" once. 

The doctor put Hannah on my chest for the first time, and I looked at Jeff as tears were rolling down his face. She sucked down an entire bottle. She was happy and she was healthy. Tests showed her kidneys had healed, and she didn't even require the antibiotic. She does, however, have an enlarged stomach, but all that means is she eats ALOT more then a normal baby would have. 

 (The hospital stay, testing, the nurse taking my baby, our visitors and my healing is a whole other story, but I will save that for another day.) 

Before the first moment I held her, I was so unsure of myself. With our track record, I was scared of all the possibilities. I won't sit here and say that's changed at all. I get scared when my baby thinks she's a super hero and jumps off of the steps. I check on her a million times as she plays when I hear the room get quiet. (usually, she's up to no good). I worry if she's eating and drinking enough. That's apart of the parental experience, I suppose. 

Being a parent is learning about strengths that you've never had. It means loving your child more then you've ever loved yourself. It means accepting that you are a mess, and you are allowed to be. I am proud of many things in life, but nothing beats being a mother.

Hannah Grace,

I hope one day you see this and know how much mommy loves you. I am your biggest fan and your best friend. I will protect you with all that I have. I will get angry and frustrated. I will be proud of all of the things that you do in life, as long as you're happy. I will love you unconditionally, because 

Forever and Always,

I am thankful that I was chosen to be your mom. <3