10 Years and counting....

10 years and counting....

10 years ago, this week, was one of the worst times of my life.  Here is a little background...

I married my current husband Jeff in March of 2001.  We met online, on a website.  www.matchmaker.com  I was a divorced, 26 year old, mother of  a 5 year old, and 3 year old sons. I just wanted to find someone to hang out with, and just have fun with.  Jeff became my best friend.

I turned 27 in May. My Birthday just happened to be on Sunday, but Jeff being Jeff, started it 4 days early. He sent the MOST amazing, birthday "Americana" birthday baskets to my work. I also got a bear, and another basket, and the final gift was my first tatto. An American Flag in a heart.  I have always loved this country, and the flag, and what it stood for.  It seemed to be the perfect tatoo. 

Jeff proposed in June, he moved in the house in August, and then September 11th happened....

We all have our memories, and I won't bore you with mine, at this time, but to say the least, I WAS DESTROYED!!!  The country that I loved was under attack, and I watched it happen.   My priorities shifted quickly.  I quit my job, and spent time with my boys.  

We got married on 2-22-02.  We went to Vegas.  It was actually perfect, cause in April of 2002, we had a big casino party at the house, and all of our friends came.  It was a great time!

I got pregnant in April  2002.  For the last weekend of May on, I was extremely ill.  I had  Hyperemesis Gravidarum.  

(HG is a severe form of morning sickness, with "unrelenting, excessive pregnancy-related nausea and/or vomiting that prevents adequate intake of food and fluids." Hyperemesis is considered a rare complication of pregnancy but, becausenausea and vomiting during pregnancy exist on a continuum, there is often not a good diagnosis between common morning sickness and hyperemesis. Estimates of the percentage of pregnant women afflicted range from 0.3% to 2.0%.)

I had lost a lot of weight, and was in the hospital ALL the time.  Finally, they had to put a PICC line in my arm, so that they could give me continuous medication, and IV fluids in my body, and I could go home.  I was miserable.  

Then, on September 10th, 2002.  I was 20 weeks, halfway there...I had an ultrasound.  There was no heartbeat.  My baby had died.

I was in the hospital on the 1 year anniversary, of  one of the worst days of my life.  I was determined not to have this child on 9/11.  So, 14 hours in labor, at 12:20am on September 12th, 2002.  I delivered, a one pound little baby boy.  We named him Alan.