MY MIRACLE BABY (and unmiraculous birth)

Having our son was unplanned to say the least. We were married but babies were not on our agenda. I have PCOS (polycystic ovarian syndrome) and literally growths the size of oranges at the times I got knocked up. We thought babies were not an option for me, and that, rather than anything else was the main motivating factor in having Edward. Not because he was planned or it was the right time. Quite the opposite. My surprise miracle.

For those who don’t know our story, I wont bore you with the gory details. He came in breech, born by emergency caesarian section 5 weeks premature on my birthday two years ago. When he was delivered he was a tiny 2kg and was immediately rushed to another hospital where they had better facilities for a prem baby born with breathing difficulties.

I didn’t actually get to see my son for another week when I was discharged from my birthing hospital on the far side of the island where we lived in Thailand. Edward spent the better part of a month in an incubator box on a drip and a little sippy straw taped to his mouth for my breastmilk. When I first laid eyes on him, in his tiny box, so fragile and so tangible at last, I burst in to tears.

The heartgripping joy and love and pain and sorrow and guilt and fire that seized my heart from the moment I saw him changed me forever. I never expected to love something with such ferocity in an instant. Until then unnamed, I knew in an instant his name was Edward and I would love him forever.

This was our first touch.

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