It's hard to remember what my life was like before the pitter patter of little feet ran through my house. It's not a distant memory, however, of how my life was turned upside down because of this little miracle. Not long ago, motherhood was this painful, stressful role I had found myself in. This role suffocated me and made it hard to function, the role of motherhood made it difficult to be a mother, if that makes sense. I tried everything. I read books, blogs, was put on meds and began counseling. Nothing helped. Being near my child was overwhelming, awful even. I felt guilty for feeling this way and even more guilty because I knew my actions would have a lasting impact. What I didn't realize was that I was being too hard on myself. Though I felt like I wasn't being a good mother, in actuality I was. Though I felt a disconnect, there was never a time I neglected to give her what she needed. Though she needed more than most babies, as you can see I gave her what she needed to help her grow up happy and healthy.
Getting to this point, was far from easy. Ellianna had to be in the hospital for 6 weeks because she was born so prematurely. Six weeks doesn't seem like a long time, but when your child is away from you and the unknown is the only thing that's certain, it can feel like a lifetime. We were only allowed to hold her once a day for the first few weeks and I cherished those moments as if they were my last.
Being a new mom is scary enough without having to hold your fragile tiny baby, ensuring her many wires didn't disconnect. When you become a mom, something inside changes. You are immediately in protect mode, yet I was helpless. Nothing I could do could make her grow stronger or faster or come home sooner.
I thought the hardest thing I'd ever done was leave the hospital without my baby. It just got harder though. Seeing Elli in her isolette with bright lights and wires everywhere, a mask so I couldn't see her eyes, that ripped my heart in two. I was able to go home and was supposed to sleep, but I couldn't. The stress that at any moment, my little miracle might stop breathing made me crazy. I prayed, I dreamed, I visited her as many times a day as allowed. I pumped so she'd have the nourishment she needed, but nothing ever seemed good enough. I felt like a failure that I couldn't go full term and she was stuck in this place all alone. I felt like more of a failure when my milk dried up and I couldn't give her anymore nourishment. She was growing though. Like crazy. The doctors were so impressed by how fast she was bottle feeding and holding her head up.
She finally started looking and acting like a baby. She had her own personality and temperament. The nurses called her feisty, and she just loved baths. Some long weeks after this picture was taken. Elli passed all the tests needed to come home. She sat in a carseat for 8 hours and didnt stop breathing. She bottle fed every meal for a few days and she was holding onto her own body temperature. The day I had waited was finally here. I should have been thrilled, happy beyond words, yes a little scared being a new mom, but atleast happy.
She was finally home! Laying on my bed, for me to hold whenever I wanted. Only problem, I didn't want to. To be honest, I wanted nothing to do with her. I went back to work as an escape. I worked a very early morning shift and didn't have to wake up with her in the middle of the night because well I had to be up at 4am every morning. Steve was amazing and took to being a father so easily. I am without words when I look at these pictures and how far we've come. No longer am I annoyed or burdened with the thought of being a mom. She's my little dose of prozac just by being her. The only thing I have regrets about is, missing out on the amazing baby she was.
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