I tend to keep a very full plate. Yeah I may moan about me time, but fact of the matter is, I wouldn't know what to do if I had a day to myself. I really don't require much. To have 30 minutes of silence is about all I need to regroup and go back into the real world. What is so crazy is that in that silence. I am cleaning. yes you read it correctly... cleaning. I tried the whole meditating thing, well lets just say that it doesn't work for me. If I am sitting still, and trying to clear my mind, all I do is think about what house work has to be done. Or the damn dogs come along and start licking on me, or barking, or sniffing on me so what's the point?
When my children are gone away for the weekend, all I do is think about them, and what they are doing and how they are doing, blah, blah blah. Just to have them come home and have to play referee, as my little one loves to instigate things with my 9 year old. To NOT have noise in my house is actually weird. Regardless of how much I tell the kids to go outside and play, or to sit in their rooms and be quiet, when they actually do those things I have to go peek in on them just to make sure they are ok. Crazy right? But once you get to know me you will understand why I am both sane, and insane! I will make this story as short as possible!
When I was 19 I had a little boy (Anthony) who decided that he would make a VERY early appearance into this wicked world. He showed up 17 weeks early... Yeah I was 23 weeks and 4 days pregnant to be exact. December 31, 1994 Anthony made his appearance. The doctor told me, that I could have a natural birth and have a stillborn, or I could have an emergency C-section and he would have a 10% chance of survival. Well I'm 19, I'm in the Navy, and I have a belief in God. So I wasn't going to have a stillborn, even if there was only a 10% chance of survival. Could you imagine what it would be like to have those "what if's" following you for the rest of your life? Yeah me either. That was going to be God's choice not mine. So emergency C-section is the route that I went.
Anthony came out weighing 1lbs 13 oz and 12 inches long. Such a little fellow, but he was all mine. And I loved him already. Considering I was home visiting and there wasn't a hospital in my town equipped to handle such premature babies, he had to be airlifted to a town about 2 hours away. Well like I said I was home for the holidays, and I was stationed in Charleston SC. Where I was, and where Anthony was was a 3 hour drive. And yes every day after I got off duty, I drove to Wilmington, NC. And on the weekends, I would stay in the Ronald McDonald house there. I was NOT leaving his side. After a few months Anthony was well enough to be moved to Charleston with me, but he had to stay in the hospital. He was getting better, I would see him everyday, the breathing tube came out, but ended right back in him in a matter of days... this went on for months. The doctors used to tell me that I should pull the plug, and I remember looking into one doctors eyes as a 19 year old girl, saying. You're not God, and neither am I. If it's meant for him to go, God will make that choice, not you, and not me!
Well one day, one of the doctors that was over Anthony that day (because he had a team) told me that I needed to take a break, that Anthony was fine. I didn't want too. I mean I was literally there every single day, NEVER missed a day. And I would stay until visiting hours were over, all while still serving my country in the USN. He told me it was ok, go home visit my family in North Carolina, they would call me if they needed too. So I went to visit my family back home. I didn't have a cell phone because in the 90's only rich people had cell phones. I wasn't one of them. July 4 1995, came around and my parents house phone rang, it was for me. They told me that Anthony wasn't doing so well, so I told my parents I had to go, and I drove 5 hours, back to Charleston SC, and headed straight to the hospital. When I walked into the NICU I saw Anthony laying there, his stomach was so full of air, it had looked like he put on 20lbs just like that. I leaned over him, and said " Anthony I love you, and if you need to go I will be ok" I remember humming a song to him, not sure what it was just a tune I made up when I very first gave birth to him, and for whatever reason, it would sooth him. I kissed him and I went home. I lived about 15-20 minutes from the hospital. About 10pm that night the hospital called me and said, Michelle, Anthony's heart has stopped and we have to do chest compressions I hung up and sped to the hospital. I remember the hospital had a parking garage. I ran inside the hospital , checked in, scrubbed and ran into the NICU. I saw the lights still on, so I remember releasing air, as to say Thank God he's ok, but as soon as I released that air, one of the nurses started turning off the machines. Then it hit me, Anthony was gone!!! I couldn't cry. I remember just standing there thinking, this isn't real, this can't be real. But it was more than real! I went to his side, asked them to remove everything from him, and I picked up my baby and went into the bereavement room. I just held him, and rocked him. He looked as though he was sleeping. I held him until his body became heavy, and fluids began to drain from his nose. I just didn't want to let him go. But I told him that I would be ok, and that it was ok to go right? I held him for about 4-5 hours that night, and I went back home, and slept on the floor. Wanting to cry but couldn't. I was still in shock. I called my parents and told them that Anthony was gone. I asked my mom could she start making arrangements for him, I was going to have him buried in North Carolina. My home. When they came to pick him up, I found the perfect outfit for him to sleep eternally in. I went to the funeral home and told them that I didn't want them to dress my baby, I would dress him myself. They asked me would I be ok. I told them of course I will be ok. This is my baby, and this is the last thing that I can do for him, besides love him forever. Well I dressed Anthony, and laid him in his "bed". I wrote him a letter, placed it in his bed, along with a picture of me and his father. No one knows what that letter says except for me, him, and God. I also but a toy in there that he liked so much that played such pretty music. Anthony passed 2 days before I turned 20. He was 6 months old.
Until this very day... 18 years later, I still have not looked at his pictures. I can't. I think about it, but I really can't. I can't even look at preemies period.
So if someone wants to know if I am sane or insane I will say both, because I have ALWAYS wanted to be a mom, it's not always easy, and the 3 that I have will push every single button that I have, but they are mine! Good, bad, or indifferent. I guess it takes a little bit of insanity to make it through some of the rough times in your life. No matter what life gives you, you have to trust that it will be ok, this too shall pass. You will never forget things that you have gone through. But you will move beyond them, and handle them the best that you know how. Never loose hope, even when it feels like all of the hope is gone.
