Happy Birthday Gunner

On July 7, 2003 I peed on a stick. Seven sticks actually. It later became known as “The Night of Seven pregnancy tests. On July 9, the nurse called with the blood test results: I WAS PREGNANT!! My due date was March 11, 2004. Gary and I were ecstatic.

My pregnancy was full of all day sickness. Lots of insomnia. And tons of planning. Because I was 35, I was referred to a perinatoligst, meaning I got ultra-sounds every month. I got to see my precious boy growing from an amoeba shaped blob to a beautiful little blob of boy.

On December 30, 2003 I went to the perinatologist for my routine visit. I had some swelling and was very uncomfortable. At 29 weeks (a normal pregnancy is 40 weeks), I was admitted to labor and delivery with blood pressure of 200/111. For 24 hours they collected my urine, kept me hooked up to an I.V. with a horrible medicine that made me hot, miserable and unable to even turn over without Gary’s assistance. I was given two steroid shots to help mature the baby’s lungs.

When the urine test results returned, the protein count was so high the doctor immediately decided to take the baby. I was rocking a full blown case of pre-eclampsia.

I was wheeled back to the operating room. Scared shitless. Gary was the usual rock. At 3:54 p.m. December 31, 2003 the most wonderful boy in the world was carved from my body. He weighed in at three pounds, six ounces. Sounds small, but for a baby born at 29 weeks, six days gestation, he was considered a “horse” the neonatologist told us.

Gunner arrived in the world breathing on his own. Amazing in and of itself. After three hours, they decided to put him on the ventilator since he had to work so hard to breathe. He was only on the ventilator for 36 hours.

Ultimately, my precious boy spent seven and a half weeks in the N.I.C.U. He was 10 weeks early. The Lord blessed us – the boy has no residual effects from being premature. He is a perfect, rambunctious, wild FOUR YEAR OLD today. Amazing. Simply Amazing.

Three days old:

Today: