I never thought I would be able to have a baby. I had known this for years, but one of my doctors told me, “it doesn’t hurt to try”. So, I stopped all birth control. After 9 months, I had a few miscarriages. My body could get pregnant, but I didn’t stay pregnant long. It was heartbreaking, and I drove myself crazy with hormone checking and taking pregnancy tests. My husband Christian and I decided it wasn’t for us, and we were going to start fostering 2-3 children. The crazy part is that we had just built a house, and we did it with this plan in mind. It is a large 4-bedroom house. For whatever reason, I gave up at this point and stopped hormone testing. I got pregnant the first day we moved into our new house.

My parents had been very hard on us for choosing to foster, and I wanted them to see why I wanted to give up on trying. For the first time ever, I told them I was pregnant, assuming the pregnancy would only last a few weeks at most, and Christian and I would start our foster training.

Somehow, though, this one stuck. We found out through DNA tests that we were having a boy. However, neither Christian nor I allowed ourselves to get attached or even dream of the future. I had implantation bleeding with clots, and I had a mental breakdown. To me, this was the end, just another miscarriage. However, the pregnancy tests were still showing positive.

I went to the gyno, and I knew I was high risk. I have extremely high cortisol levels, I am overweight, and I was also over 30. However, outside of severe nausea, the beginning of my pregnancy was what one would expect.

We finally told people I was pregnant when I was 20 weeks; we had a gender reveal party shortly after to tell our family we were having a boy.

At 25 weeks, my blood pressure started rising. I was taking baby aspirin and low-grade blood pressure medicine.

At 26 weeks, I woke up with a headache. It wasn’t a normal headache; it felt like it was behind one of my eyes. I thought it was weird and took my blood pressure. It was high, so I had Christian bring me my meds and waited for it to go down. It did, but I thought it was weird. I called my gyno and told them what happened, but my blood pressure had been a few points below where they would send me to the ER. So, they said to keep an eye on it, and to go into the office if my blood pressure was over 140/90.

Around 1:00 or 2:00, my headache started coming back. I checked, and my blood pressure was doing weird things. I would take it, and it would be high, and then I would take it 5 minutes later, and it would be normal.

I decided to call the maternal medicine doctor; he told me I needed to come into the ER. I felt fine outside of the headache; I figured I was going in; they would give me more blood pressure meds, and then I would go back home.

My husband put the dogs in their crates, and I wrapped up a few work things. I really regret not saying bye to the dogs…

By the time I got to the hospital, my blood pressure was in the 180s, and they could not get it to come down no matter how much medicine they gave me.

They started prepping me for a c-section and trying to get me stable. They had someone come speak to us about the NICU. We heard about survival rates, brain bleeds, and that our son would be rushed to the nearby children’s hospital. It was so much to process, and the worst part was that outside of a headache, I felt fine. There was padding added to my bed, a steroid shot was shoved in my leg, and a magnesium drip was started.

It felt like a horrible nightmare. I was surrounded by nurses and doctors; my husband was herded to a chair, and I just watched as his fear for both me and our son crossed his face. I thought this would be the most terrified I have ever been, but it was just the beginning of a long rollercoaster.

Somehow, miraculously, my blood pressure came under control. However, the blood pressure medicine was so high that there was nothing they could do to bring it down if it started increasing again. Anything they did would be to get my blood pressure to a point where they could perform a c-section.

I would spend 10 days in the maternity ward of the hospital, watching so many happy people be induced. I would also observe the leaves added to the rooms where the baby did not make it. I would walk the hospital and see families leaving, a little one in a car seat and the mom being pushed in a wheelchair. I would cry. I would never get that. They did not think it was safe to stay pregnant for more than 34 weeks. My chances for a stroke or seizure were too high.

I didn’t even make it to that, though. Ethan was born at 28 weeks 3 days. He would spend 101 days in the NICU and be sent home on oxygen support.

My husband and I wanted to start this site to help others that are in similar situations. We learned so much. We learned that ‘events’ happen unexpectedly; we learned what things people did for us that we appreciated the most; we learned about all the help the hospital had to offer; we learned to celebrate all the little things; we learned that it is amazing getting to know your tiny 2-pound 6-ounce baby. We learned about ventilators, CPAPs, High flow oxygen, and eye appointments. Then we learned about coming home with a child after their due date and that child being on oxygen support. We learned tricks here too. We learned about quarantining to protect our child from RSV, Flu, and Covid. We learned about family who were disappointed that they couldn’t see our son. We learned so much and are continuing to learn, and we want to share this knowledge.

That is what the early arrival is all about.