The Turning Point part 3

The ability to adapt to any situation or circumstance is a skill that many strive to achieve. I cannot for certain say that I adapted to or accepted that I bared a son who was born pre-term, I can say that I was literally just going with the punches and with every punch the more my depression worsen. I questioned God every single day about the path that my life had taken. I was oblivious to the fact that I was in deep denial about my situation, a phase that I went through and until two years ago, I am thankful that I have now come to terms with my destiny. I loathed waiting and letting for fate to take its course because in my mind my son needed to get healthy promptly. The time frame of a normal full-term pregnancy is nine months or 39 to 40 weeks. I gave birth at 26 ½ weeks about six months in. The NICU team of doctors made it clear that we understood that our child could not go home earlier than three months in order to receive proper medical care and ensure healthy continual weight gain.

I drove back to Virginia with my husband so that I could pack and go back to my son’s side. I spent Christmas and New Years Eve  in Virginia with my  husband and my family and lurking in my heart was the feeling of  resentment of  having to  leave my luxury apartment, my comfortable bed with the post card view of the monument in the background that I also saw when I stepped onto the balcony. I hated parting from my haven and go stay in the hospital to be my son’s side. Please don’t judge me until you have been in the situation, this was the denial stage of my life. I believe all of us go through this stage during different circumstances in our lives but most importantly we should not get stuck in denial.

I cried all the way to Pittsburgh. I stayed my brother’s house for the most part but not wanting to impose on him and his wife I opted to find ulterior means of accommodation at the hospital. The sin that I can’t shake is my sense of pride. The thought of asking someone that knew me for assistance was not an option for me. Growing up with three older brothers and me being the last child and the only girl I acquired a thickness to my skin and a set of social skills that assists me in many situations that

I quickly settled in with the flow and pace of the hospital. I made sure I was among the first people in line for the free never changing turkey sandwich that tasted like fillet mignone on the days where I had no money. The nights when I couldn’t get a sleep room at the hospital because of the over population, I slept in the waiting room, my back pack consisted of toothbrushes, undergarments, perfume, lotion and a change of clothes that I washed every other week on the seventh floor where the laundry room was located.

To be continued.