Imagines...

Imagine being called from the doctor's office while on a road trip with your
husband and they tell you that you are pregnant after seven years of trying
and being told it would never happen.

Imagine quitting your job and spending all your time watching what you eat,
drink and do because you are so scared for the life inside you.

Imagine being so sick throughout your pregnancy that most days you can
barely lift your head but still doing what you have to do for your baby.

Imagine the love from your husband and family that you never felt before
getting pregnant and wondering if it is just because of the baby and being
so happy that your husband is happy.

Imagine reading that babies born before 23 weeks weren't considered viable
and being terrified, waking up each night feeling as if something weren't
right.

Imagine waking up one night at 23 weeks and knowing you're in labor, imagine
calling your doctor's office and being told that you are over reacting and
that you should go back to bed.

Imagine going to your doctor and telling him you were in pain and begging.
Imagine bleeding and pleading and him telling you that it would be alright
and sending you home.

Imagine going to another doctor the next day and him telling you that you
have been having contractions and that your cervix is funneling.

Imagine spending a week in the hospital with your feet higher than your head
and receiving every medication known to stop labor and steroids for the
baby.

Imagine the look on your new doctor's face when he realizes you're dilated
4cm. Imagine that same look an hour later after he manages to get the
contractions to stop and he realizes you're at 10 cm.
Imagine being told that any way you look at it, you and your baby have very
little chance and the looks on all the faces that surround you, your
husband's fear and his pain as he's being asked to make the choice between
his wife and child and wanting both.

Imagine Your son taking that choice out of his father's hands by forcing the
amniotic sac free with his beautiful little feet and the hour of panic that
follows as doctor's and nurses fear that they may lose you both as your
blood pressure drops and the contractions stop when the breeched baby is
half way free of the birth canal.

Imagine smiling at the 24 week 1lb 7oz little boy that looks just like you
as they wheel him over to the delivery bed and he waves his little hand.

Imagine not being able to see him because every time you sit up or stand for
the first 12 hours your blood pressure drops so fast that you collapse and
he's all the way across the hospital in the NICU.

Imagine being told that they think he'll be alright, despite his size, and
that he will have a long hard road but he has great potential.

Imagine getting a call in the middle of the night 11 days later telling you
to come see him that he's taken a turn for the worse and getting there,
realizing your son's body has turned black in the matter of hours since you
last saw him and that he has NEC.

Imagine him being transferred to a new hospital and not knowing for two days
if he would stabilize long enough for them to do the surgery and having
every doctor who looks at him tell you that he won't make it through the
ordeal.

Imagine the surgery lasting only five minutes and the doctor's assistant
coming out with a smile to tell you that it was only a tear and everything's
just fine.

Imagine spending the next 3 weeks watching him grow and gain weight and
smile and wrap his little fingers around one of your as he sleeps because he
likes to have you near.

Imagine how happy his father is every day when he comes in and reads to him
and you watch each night until they give your baby his sedative and he falls
asleep. Imagine his joy as he realizes that in a month his son has reached
3lb 2oz.

Imagine having your baby dedicated and knowing something is wrong even as
you're smiling for everyone else because your baby isn't responding to your
touch or your voice.

Imagine begging your husband to take the one and a half hour drive home with
you to get clothes to spend the night with the baby because you just don't
feel right.

Imagine getting a call half way back to the hospital telling you that your
baby suddenly crashed and started bleeding from his healed wounds and that
they are doing all they can. Imagine getting there and having to scrub up
and wait to be let into the secure ward, thinking you know what is
happening. Imagine realizing that you didn't have a clue.

Imagine holding your husband's hand for 2 and a half hours as you watch
doctor's and nurses try at the bed side to stop the bleeding as they push
every kind of blood product they can as fast as they can and no matter what
they do, it doesn't stop.

Imagine the tears in the eyes of the staff as they watch him struggle and
finally wrap him in surgiseal and explain that that is the best they can do.
Imagine the look in the doctor's eyes as she tells you that the blood tests
have come back and your son's white blood cell count is almost none existent
and his platelets won't level out and that he has a raging infection that
has taken over his body in a matter of hours.

Imagine knowing and trying to explain to your husband and him telling you
that he is standing on Faith until the doctor comes to your room to tell you
that despite the use of medications, your son's heart rate is dropping
steadily and he is having trouble breathing due to severe lung disease that
you didn't even know he had.

Imagine being told that chest compressions would kill him and that there is
nothing else they can give him and seeing your husband's face when he
understands truly. Imagine watching him from the corner of the room as he
begs, "Come on John, you can do it, breathe, pick up your stats."

Imagine smiling softly as the nurses dim the lights and hand your husband
his son so he can hold him for the first and last time and rock him gently
as he leaves you all behind and returns to heaven. Imagine listening to him
whisper softly and kiss his son for the first and last time.

Imagine thinking back on the 38 days you had him and being grateful for
every day that he was with you. Imagine wishing that you could live the pain
all over again just so that you could be with him, but knowing you wouldn't
want your baby to hurt again and instead falling back on the comfort of
remembering that you held him inside you for 6 months.

Imagine remembering every day that you told him it was alright to let go and
listening to your husband question if he made the right choices throughout
the time your son was with you.

Imagine having to leave him at the hospital and knowing that his body is
cold and alone and telling yourself that his soul has moved on.

Imagine seeing the tiny casket they will put John in and hoping that his
stuffed animals that he slept with for the past month will fit with him.

Imagine telling yourself how selfish you are that you want to keep them all
even though they are covered in blood. Imagine wanting them that much more
because it's his blood.

Imagine standing there staring at the dark cold Mausoleum where he will be
placed and knowing that your husband who is clenching your hand is thinking
the same thing, it could be 60 yrs before we join him and we'll be leaving
him all alone. Imagine wondering if you should have gotten the ground plots
in case it happens again.

Imagine checking email from people that think John is still alive.

Imagine realizing that you have a house full of baby furniture, blankets,
toys and clothes, some of it handmade by relatives and you don't know what
to do with it because it all belongs to a baby that's with GOD.