An Overwhelming Need

I am noticing something about myself- I have an overwhelming need to share my story about Luke with other people. I need to share with other parents of children with disabilities. I keep finding ways to do this. Today, at work, I spoke with a lady around my age who is volunteering at my school. Every day I find a way to talk about it. I have been through so much in the past couple of years. It has been a mix of sweet and sour experiences.

What I am about to share is very personal, but it is part of my journey. I married my husband on September 30, 2006. I had two little girls from my previous marriage. My husband had a boy from his previous marriage. We were happy with the three we had. We did not want any more children. I was on birth control and my husband planned to have a vasectomy in late December. As fate would have it, or as part of God's plan, I conceived Luke a couple weeks before Marty had his vasectomy. In late December, I knew I was pregnant. I had all day sickness and many other pregnancy related symptoms. I went to the doctor when I was a week late. They did a blood test and told me that it was negative. A week later, I had a period. So, I accepted the fact that I wasn't pregnant with joy. 4 weeks later, I was still feeling sick along with the other things, so I went back to the doctor thinking I was going crazy. They did a urine test and told me that I was pregnant. I broke down into tears. This was not part of the plan.

I continued having periods for 3 months. Then, during month 3 I woke up in a puddle of blood. I was in pain, so we went to the emergency room. I was never seen. The next morning I had an ultrasound and all was well with Luke. No one knows why bled. In the 8th month of pregnancy I began running out of amniotic fluid. The ultrasound I had on the afternoon of the 21st of August 2007 proved that I needed to go right to the hospital to have a c-section. Luke was breech. He was feet first and his umbilical cord was right underneath his little toes. He had to be delivered by c-section.

The pregnancy and the delivery was traumatic for me. There was so much stress. So, Luke was delivered. He was so cute. He looked like a little alien. Just like his mommy :) The first week after his birth was hard. There were three other kids in the house. My in-laws were in town. No one seemed to really be paying attention to my needs. I came home from the hospital running a 104 degree fever and in severe pain. I was left alone in the house with Luke and the two girls. I finally called my mother to come get the girls. I couldn't handle it. I was tired and in pain and feeling quite stressed because people were more concerned about a certain two people in my house than about me or Baby Luke. My mom picked up the girls. I was so thankful. I couldn't take care of them at the moment. Even with all that I was going through, I ended up being told off because I sent the girls away. It was weird and traumatic. It has been two years and yet I still hurt over the situation. I felt so small and meaningless.

A couple months later, I began realizing that Luke was "neurologically young". I felt, in the pit of my stomach, that something wasn't right. At the age of 5 months, Luke began the journey of testing, doctor's appointments, more testing, and more doctor's appointments.

I love my son. I am passionate about my son. We, as a family, are finally getting to point of understanding, compassion, and kindness that we should have been when I had Luke. In writing about this, I am trying to forgive. I am trying to move past two years of trauma. I love my family- my husband, kids, parents, in-laws, etc. But I can acknowledge that I have been hurt.