The Silent Cry

It was February 9, 1996 and I was just talking on the phone with my friend, Kathy. In our conversation, I came to the realization that it was possible that I was pregnant. "Could I be pregnant? Could my dream of having a family be really happening?" were the questions that were running through my mind. I had wanted a family for as long as I could remember. If you were to ask my mom what did I "want to be when I grew up", she would tell you that when I was younger I wanted to be a nurse and that I wanted to have a family. I wanted to be a mommy. The day was finally here, I was 24 years old and ready to start a family.

I took my first pregnancy test. I know that I was supposed to wait three minutes before I could read the results, but lets face it, this was not the time that I could be patient. I laid the test on the bathroom counter and just watched the small little circle like it had all the answers of the world. I waited for that famous "+" or "-" sign to appear in the window to find out if I was indeed pregnant. Then it happened. The first part of the dash turned pink, and then, just as I sat there watching that small little line that made the dash a plus starting turning pink. It was clear... I was pregnant.

I can't believe it. I was actually pregnant. I was going to have a baby. I can't even begin to explain how excited I was. Then a whole new set of questions came flooding in.... "How far along am I? When will the baby be due? Will "it" be a boy or a girl? What will the baby look like? Will he or she have a lot of hair?" And just then... I remembered, LABOR. I can't say I was looking forward to that part very much. I had heard all of the horror stories. I had heard about the thirty-six hour labors that could come along with the first child and I can't say that I was really looking forward to that part of this whole experience. I had also heard that once you hold that beautiful baby in your arms it makes it all worth it and the memory of the pain just fades away. At that time I chose to believe that, I mean how else could there be families with more than one child if it was all that bad? And I was pregnant. There was no turning back. This baby was on its way and I wasn't going to let a little fear of pain ruin the best days of my life.

Little did I know that this baby would change my life in a way that could have never been predicted. Never could I have prepared for what was coming. All I knew for sure was that the tiny little window said that I was pregnant and I was the happiest I could have ever imagined.

I made an appointment and went to the doctor's office to make sure the test was right and it was correct. I had a due date of October 12, 1996. I was a dispatcher at our local sheriff's office at the time. I worked 4 days on and 4 days off, switching back and forth between the day and night shift. I really enjoyed my job and had waited along time to get there. Sometimes the twelve-hour nights were rough. I had a hard time staying awake some nights. Some nights I would take my shoes off to rest my feet and by morning my feet would be so swollen that I couldn't get my shoes back on and I would actually have to drive home in my socks. Just one of the perks of pregnancy that no one ever really tells you is going to happen. I did all the things I was supposed to. I took my prenatal vitamins, I went to my doctor's appointments, I had my ultrasound, I tried to guess if the baby was a boy or girl and I planned on taking off work around the end of September, just in time for my baby shower. I was scheduled to work the night shift this night. My alarm was set for 4:30 PM to get up and get dinner and go to work. At 4:26 PM on September 15, 1996, I glanced at the alarm clock and felt a very strange feeling. I wasn't sure what was going on. I can't even really explain what I felt just that something wasn't exactly right. My water had just broke. I was in labor. This couldn't be. It was too early.

I called my mom and my grandma answered the phone. My mom had gone baby shopping. A few minutes later my grandma called me back to tell me that my best friend, who lived in my mom's basement, was on her way to pick me up. As we were driving the 20 minutes to the hospital, my contractions started. They started at 4-5 minutes apart. Once we arrived at the hospital and I was examined, it was determined that I was far enough along to get my epidural. The labor was progressing and it looked like the horrible stories I had heard of 36 hour labors wasn't going to be the case. At 10:38 PM, I gave birth to James Daniel. He was 4 weeks early, weighed 6 pounds 9 ounces and was 20 inches long. He was absolutely beautiful.

Once he was born, he was rushed over to be worked on. He wasn't crying. I was terrified that there was something wrong with him. I could hear him grunting and he finally tried to start crying. I was told that he wasn't breathing well on his own and that they were going to have to take him to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. They brought him over to me to hold for just a brief minute before they took him away. I had no idea what was to come. I had no idea how this child was going to change my life nor how I would have to fight to save his.