For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a mom. When I was small I made sure to always take my Flintstones vitamin and eat my vegetables so I could make big, strong babies. I stopped drinking pop (a.k.a. soda or coke) when I was in junior high because I read that ingredients in pop prevent calcium absorption in the body. I figured I needed a lot of calcium so I could be healthy when I got pregnant and I was still pre-pubescent. The only job I had until after I was married was in childcare, I decided it was better to "practice"with other peoples kids then on my own. First I was a babysitter, then I worked as a teacher in daycares, and finally I worked as a nanny. My major in college was even early childhood development. I had read all of the books and I knew exactly what kind of mom I wanted to be.
Then it finally happened, I was pregnant. Everything I had prepared for was finally coming to fruition. I was a mom (yes, I felt like a mom from the moment I woke up with big sore boobs and I saw those two little pink lines). I read up on all of the new parenting techniques and trends. I knew exactly what baby products I wanted and how to use them and I wasn’t even in my second trimester yet.
Then the world came crashing down around me and everything changed. My baby had anencephaly and wasn’t going to make it. I was told by my doctor that the only choice I had was to terminate the pregnancy. Terminate the pregnancy!?! This wasn’t just a time of life, an unfortunate circumstance to eliminate and move past. This was my baby, the one I had planned and prepared for my entire life. I couldn’t do it, but Jon was scared, and honestly so was I. The doctor had painted a pretty grim picture for me if I was to carry Pearce to term. Without saying these exact words she gave me my choices – my life or the life of my baby that will not be able to live outside the womb.
We got a second opinion.
Pearce was born and showed me how short life is.
I changed a lot in those 11 minutes.
Just like every firstborn, he taught me a lot about being a parent. I don’t know if I would appreciate motherhood as much as I do if it wasn't for Pearce. He taught me to slow down, take it all in. Give one more kiss, one more snuggle, one more story, one more dance because you don’t know how long you have. It could be seconds, decades, or like me – just a handful of minutes.