How long can you hold your breath?

I held my breath for forty weeks, I would have held it longer if necessary, but someone came along and stole my breath away.

It started when my husband and I were trying to expand our family.  Every month, we would time and wait, and I would hold my breath.  And then, that beautiful month in April, I was able to make two lines appear on that magical stick, and I held my breath.

The time came to confirm what the stick was trying to tell me, and I held my breath until the appointment.  One hurdle down, the next was an ultrasound.  I was expecting to hold my breath for nearly a week, only to see some spotting and be told that my numbers didn't double, so come in quick!  An ultrasound was scheduled for 8PM.  I searched the technician's face, never even attempting to take a breath.  "Do you see a sac?  A heartbeat?  Something, anything?!?"

Waiting, and waiting, and waiting.  Finally, a faint flicker on the screen.  "Can my husband come see?  He's never been in one of these rooms before?"  Holding my breath for the answer I would like, only to be shot down.  That's okay.  I have hope that he will see this faint flicker one day.  I proudly held my breath after that day.  Happy that for once, things were going okay.  But don't breathe yet, having been down that road before I knew how quickly things could change...

I refused to take in even a tiny bit of air for twelve whole weeks to be sure that I was out of the woods.  Until I realized that safety was still just out of reach.  I needed to keep hoping/wishing/praying that things would be okay, she needed to stay in at least until 24 weeks.  She.  It's a girl!!  She needs to reach viability.

Everyday felt like three.  I swore I was going to have a nervous breakdown at 22 weeks.  Thinking that something could happen, and I would have been just two measly weeks away from viability.  The thought broke my heart.  I never knew that 14 days could mean so much to me.
Fast forward to 34 weeks.  Preterm labor haunted me like a bad dream.  I remember my midwife talking to me, her voice sounding like an echo in the distance, "Bed rest, preterm labor, softening cervix."  Braxton Hicks contractions every five minutes reminded me that I had made it so far, yet still needed more time.  By that time, I was a pro at holding my breath.  Anxiously waiting for the next road block, or obstacle to come my way. 

FINALLY, 37 weeks!!  Full term!  I couldn't stop dreaming about meeting my baby girl, seeing her face for the first time, holding her, kissing those little lips.  The fact that I could love someone so much was amazing.  I knew that I was ready.  Boy oh boy was I ready....

To GET HER OUT!  I'm 39 weeks, I can't wait to meet her!  Why isn't she here already?  Holding my breath for the day when I would look over at my husband to declare that "It's TIME!".  Ahh!  The suspense!  My heavy midsection was ready, hips aching, back burning, but I couldn't wipe the smile off of my face.  It wouldn't long now.  My dream was about to come true.

40 weeks on the nose, water breaks.  This is it!  This is what I have been waiting for, holding my breath for.  Then, I feel it, the first contraction.  Wow, it's worse than I could have ever expected.  Holding my breath until the I was able to get an epidural.  Not even thinking about breathing while my back was cleaned with that cold, wet, abrasive sponge.  Ahh, relief.  What?  No, the pain is back, and worse than ever!  Gah!!  In my head I'm chanting, "Don't breathe, don't breathe!"  While my husband and midwife are yelling at me to "BREATHE, BREATHE!!  One more push, you can do it!".  I did it...  I did it...  Look at her, she's beautiful.  Counting the fingers and toes, they're all there!  She's perfect!

Inhale, exhale.  Whew!  We made it.  It was a wild ride, but so worth it.  Finally, our hospital stay is over.  'Wait, we just go home?  With this tiny, fragile human?' 

Oh dear....  Breathe in, hold it.....

Now nearly ten months later, I still have to be reminded to breathe.  Enjoy every day.  Appreciate what I have.  Relax, I can't control everything.  Live in the moment.  But most importantly, I have to keep breathing...