Imagines...

Imagine being pregnant with your first child, and being so sick with morning sickness 24hours a day that you vow to never have another child because it wasn't worth this agony. After having your baby and loving him more than life itself, you realize that you would go through ANYTHING for this baby or any other. Imagine going through that ANYTHING for your second baby.

Imagine looking at your first son when he was born, and thinking how he was the tiniest baby you had ever seen (5 lbs,5oz). Imagine that this is almost 5 times the size of your second son.

Imagine having to give yourself heparin needles 3 times a day while pregnant. Imagine at 20 weeks, home alone with your 2 year old that you start to bleed.

Imagine at this time the father of your children is being very unsupportive, and when you finally track him down, he says, "are you really sure your bleeding?"

Imagine that your doctor takes you off of your shots to stop the bleeding, but it doesn't stop. Imagine spotting for the next month.

Imagine that one day the bleeding gets heavy again, and you start having contractions.

Imagine going to get an ultrasound the next day, to see if they can pinpoint where the bleeding is coming from, but they cant see anything because the baby has moved into birth position.

Imagine your doctor sending you home, but as you are leaving the hospital, you realize that something is very wrong, and instead walk up to labor and delivery.

Imagine being admitted alone while the father of your children goes to pick up your 2year old from daycare.

Imagine them telling you they are sending you by ambulance to the University hospital where there is a Level 3 NICU, because your baby is going to be born tonight, at just 24 weeks.

Imagine telling your significant other that he needs to find someone to take care of your son, because we are going to have the baby tonight. and he in turn tells you that your 2 year-old has the chicken pox.

Imagine wanting your mother, but knowing that she cant come because she, along with the rest of your family lives thousands of miles away.

Imagine riding in the ambulance, and for the paramedic to be timing your contractions, treating you as though you were a full term mom about to give birth, and telling you all about his wife's pregnancy--"but she's only six months along"--and you thinking, "well, she is more pregnant than I am".

Imagine as the paramedics wheel you into a labor room, they give each other the last of many "high fives" and tell you to "have fun", as you are wondering if you and your baby will make it through this alive.

Imagine while in labor, worrying about your baby at home who is very sick and had NEVER been without his Mommy AND his Daddy.

Imagine while in labor, a nurse practitioner comes to talk to you both about everything that could go wrong if the baby is born alive, and all you can think about is concentrating all of your energy into making him be born alive.

Imagine the look on the face of your significant other as he reads through all of the literature she left, and you know that the odds are not good.

Imagine only have to give 3 pushes to give birth to your son, he is that tiny, and imagine not hearing him cry.

Imagine saying over and over again, "He's alive! -- He's alive!", because you really thought that he wouldn't be.

Imagine a few months later that the father of your sons tells you how grateful he was at the time that he was wearing a mask, because he saw how happy you were that your son was alive, and he couldn't bring himself to smile back, because he saw your tiny son as he was born, and wasn't sure that he would live for even an hour, and he just held on to your hand for dear life, and let you just be happy for now... Imagine that after coming back from seeing your son, that his father tells you that even though he is the tiniest thing, that he grabbed onto his daddy's finger, and that he was a fighter....

Imagine the first time you see your son that he is covered with wires, cannot breath on his own, and you can see his tiny heart beating just within his translucent skin.

Imagine the nurse pulls back saran wrap for you to touch him, and you just can't bring yourself to do this; for your finger is longer and thicker than his arm, and his hand is only the size of your fingertip.

Imagine going to see him a few hours later, and asking if a baby this small could be an organ donor, and if I would be allowed to hold him if he died.

Imagine being released from the hospital yourself, and having to say Good-bye to your baby...wondering if this is the last time you would see him alive.

Imagine not being able to see your baby again until he is 4 days old, because your life partner is not handling things well, and you have no one else to care for your older son who is very sick with the chicken pox. Imagine calling the hospital EVERY hour on the hour to make sure he is ok.

Imagine finally getting to the hospital, and going to where your baby was last, and he is gone, and you think the worst.

Imagine the first time you are able to look into your baby's eyes--after he is over 2 weeks old, because his eyes remained fused shut for that long, and imagine him looking right into your soul.

Imagine hearing your baby cry for the first time when he is 2 months old, and can finally live without the aide of a ventilator.

Imagine 167 days of the worst roller coaster you will ever ride--filled with watching your son suffer through countless heal sticks and IV's.. 11 blood transfusions, infections, heart surgery, meningitis, and so many other life threatening conditions.

Imagine watching this 1 lb 6 oz, 11 in miracle grow and conquer every obstacle he has had to face--and with an amazing strength and calm serenity.

Imagine for the first 2 years of his life, having to live in utter isolation, to keep your child from becoming sick.

Imagine the apnea monitors for the first 9 months home, and 24 hour a day oxygen until he is a year and a half.

Imagine carrying a portable oxygen tank, and extra tubing everywhere you go, and it being so common place.

Imagine at 18 months finally being able to see your sons face for part of the day without tubing on it, and it seeming so strange and naked.

Imagine looking at your 2 year olds beautiful long eyelashes and remembering when he didn't have any.

Imagine after 2 years of isolation, losing your self confidence in most social situations, but feeling "right at home" in any medical environment.

Imagine being stronger than you have ever been, and having gained the wisdom to appreciate more than you ever had before.

Imagine watching your sons run and giggle, and know how blessed you are to be a part of two such extraordinary human beings lives, and being thankful for all that they have taught YOU, for they are your heroes.

Marguerite, mom to 24-weeker Gavin 3-15-97 and to Kane, ft, lbw(IUGR) 5-31-94