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| June 1999 |
I can still remember the first time I saw my baby daughter. She was beautiful. She was term and was the biggest newborn I had ever had. She weighed in at seven pounds five ounces. Looking at her lying in the open bassinet she seemed like the perfect new baby. What new baby isn't beautiful? It wasn't until I had spent time with her doing feedings in the nursery at the hospital, that it became obvious that she was having some difficulty from the drugs she had been exposed to in utero. She had tested positive for black tar heroin and had to spend 23 days in the hospital. She was given diluted tincture of opium or DTO as the nurses called it. Her dosage of DTO was weaned daily and was to help her with the withdrawal she was experiencing. She was irritable, shaky, had trouble eating, had severe abdominal cramps and explosive diarrhea. I would go to the hospital three times a day to do feedings with her. Bubba Doo was thirteen months old when she was born and I would bring him with me and he would sit in the stroller while I did her feedings. On day twenty four, I was able to finally bring her home and she weighed eight and a half pounds.
I had dealt with feeding difficulties, illnesses, RSV and two hospitalizations with my son. I had dealt with asthma, multiple bouts of pneumonia, several emergency room visits as well as a couple of hospitalizations with my oldest daughter. I had spent eleven years working as a respiratory therapist in an acute hospital setting. None of this had prepared me for what I would experience in the next six months. I brought my daughter home and found that she was in constant pain and unconsolable. I was at the pediatrician's office at least once a week. We went through eight different formulas before we found one she could tolerate. She was being treated with medication for reflux. She had severe abdominal cramps and had the worst diaper rash I had ever seen. Her bottom would bleed from open blisters. I would have to take cotton balls soaked in Mylanta and dab that on her bottom. Then, I would have to take a blow dryer on a cool setting and use that to dry her bottom. She was constantly in pain and no sooner would I get her cleaned up and she would dirty her diaper and I would start the whole process all over again. There were times she was unconsolable and I thought for sure she must have an ear infection. I would make a pediatrician's appointment, arrive at the clinic with a screaming crying baby and then feel great disappointment to discover that her doctor could find nothing physically wrong with her and tell me she was withdrawing and send us home.
It was so hard to watch her go through so much pain. I found myself very ANGRY at her birth mother. This was not FAIR. My son had not gone through this type of withdrawal or physical pain. There were times that my baby daughter would cry and I could not console her. She was NOT consolable. The doctors could not fix her pain. I could not fix her pain. I could only get some sleep if I put her in a baby swing. So, I purchased a battery operated swing and used it every night. I would feel guilty, but at least she wasn't crying and I was able to get some much needed sleep.
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| A Happy Moment |
I found myself feeling very inadequate as a mother. With my oldest two children, I had been able to console them when they were hurt or sick. I could cuddle them and they seemed to like being cuddled. My baby daughter did not like being cuddled. When she was three months old, she would not even smile. Her pediatrician told me it was concerning because she would not look at him and he could not get her to smile. I looked at him is disbelief and told him that if we had gone through what she had gone through we wouldn't be smiling either. I had never in my life seen a baby go through so much pain and discomfort in my life. She did not have anything to smile about. How could she trust her world? She had been conceived in a toxic environment and had been exposed to chemicals and toxins that were damaging to her very being. If she did not have the inner strength she has, she more than likely would have died.
It was October 1999, and my baby daughter was four months old. I had put her down for a nap in her crib and laid down on the couch myself. About an hour later, I awoke to hear gurgling coming from her crib. I rushed into her room to find her laying in vomit. I picked her up and she felt like she was on fire. I quickly undressed her and took her temperature. It was 104.3 F. As I sat her up, I noticed that her right side was paralyzed. She could not open her right eye. I placed her in her infant carrier and loaded her in the car and drove a few blocks to the nightime pediatric clinic. The nurses and docter there were great and tried to calm my fears. My baby daughter was unresponsive. An ambulance was called and we were rushed to Primary Children's Medical Center. Several tests were done as my baby laid there like a limp noodle with no response to the poking and prodding that was being done to her. All I could do was cry. I was a trained healthcare professional and I was falling apart emotionally. I sat there looking at my baby daughter. She had no one but me. There was no biological family. Her birth Mom was not there. I was it and she might die. How would I explain this to Bubba Doo? My gut and my heart were torn in several directions. I had loved this baby. I brought her home from the hospital. I had nurtured her, taken care of her and now I might lose her. It was more than I could think of. It seemd painfully CRUEL!
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| Finally something to smile about! |
It was during that hospital stay with my baby daughter, that I realized in my heart that I would be adopting her. I knew that I was her Mom and she was my daughter. I knew she was a blessing from God and he had entrusted her to me. I accepted this blessing and all it would entail. I prayed to God "please help my baby and don't let her die." I could not understand why God would allow a baby to endure so much suffering. She was innocent. She had not chosen her birth Mom. She did not choose to be in a toxic uterus filled with heroin. I was filled with ANGER at her birth Mom who seemed to only care about her drug addiction and not about what it was doing to her children. How could a mother do this to her own child? How could I help her? Would I be able to help her? I vowed then and there to do everything I could to help my baby daughter and to make sure she got the best start in life she could get.
As I watched my tiny baby daughter lying in the crib with her right side paralyzed, I realized that God had given me a very special blessing. I have no idea why God chose me, but I had been chosen. I prayed that I had the strength and endurance to be able to provide everything she would need. As I watched her breathing in her sleep, I felt a mother's love growing in my heart. My baby and I had been through so much already. I felt like our bond was real and was unbreakable. I realized that my prayers to be a Mom had been answered more than once and could not believe how lucky I was. I was so GRATEFUL. I knew we had a difficult journey ahead of us, but I also knew that God had graced me with this most difficult blessing.... The blessing I had wanted, to be a mother again. A wonderful chance to learn and grow and experience a mother's love in a way I never dreamed. To learn what it means to really LOVE your child and want what is BEST for them. To learn to put your child's needs before your own. To learn that our Greatest Blessings in life are never easy, but worth all we endure.
I am thankful and honored that God chose me to be my baby daughter's mother....
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| December 1999 |
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