When I first became pregnant, we had no idea that I would end up on bedrest and deliver four months early. My plan, before this happened, was to take maternity leave and then return to work. I was planning on working extended days and having more days off during the week. A friend would watch the baby at her home while I was at work. Things did not unfold as planned.
At my week 17 ultrasound, the tech muttered something under her breath and went out to get a doctor. The doctor came in and went and got two more doctors. They sent me directly to the hospital where I had surgery and was put on strict bedrest. I had to go on disability from work. When our son was born at 24 weeks, I was still on disability, but it was running out. Eventually I was told that they needed me to come back to work full time or they would have to replace me (company under 50 employes so no FMLA). So at that point, my son was still intubated and in a level 3 NICU. They had to replace me - and I had no more job.
I collected unemployment, but that also ran out. Our son cannot go to daycare because of his compromised immune system. Our neonatologist told us that in no uncertain terms. We were told if I needed to work, someone would have to come in.
I do non-profit work, designing learning environments for students with disabilities, so the cost of someone coming in to watch the baby was the same as my salary.
My husband picked up the slack and started working overtime and a side job, so that we can afford our house and food. However, this means we rarely see him.
Jack sees me every day - all day. He loves me like bread loves salt, but I am not daddy. He misses his daddy. Most of our days are spent with tiny baby eyes gazing at the door, or chubby baby hands stroking the instruments that to him mean daddy. Some days, he bangs on them and screams "da da da da da da!' and won't let me touch him.
Today, we missed daddy. We missed him a lot.
At my week 17 ultrasound, the tech muttered something under her breath and went out to get a doctor. The doctor came in and went and got two more doctors. They sent me directly to the hospital where I had surgery and was put on strict bedrest. I had to go on disability from work. When our son was born at 24 weeks, I was still on disability, but it was running out. Eventually I was told that they needed me to come back to work full time or they would have to replace me (company under 50 employes so no FMLA). So at that point, my son was still intubated and in a level 3 NICU. They had to replace me - and I had no more job.
I collected unemployment, but that also ran out. Our son cannot go to daycare because of his compromised immune system. Our neonatologist told us that in no uncertain terms. We were told if I needed to work, someone would have to come in.
I do non-profit work, designing learning environments for students with disabilities, so the cost of someone coming in to watch the baby was the same as my salary.
My husband picked up the slack and started working overtime and a side job, so that we can afford our house and food. However, this means we rarely see him.
Jack sees me every day - all day. He loves me like bread loves salt, but I am not daddy. He misses his daddy. Most of our days are spent with tiny baby eyes gazing at the door, or chubby baby hands stroking the instruments that to him mean daddy. Some days, he bangs on them and screams "da da da da da da!' and won't let me touch him.
Today, we missed daddy. We missed him a lot.
Hi! I clicked on your list from the Atomic Tonic forums and I am that stalker who read through a bunch of your archives last night. But I'd really like to be able to start at the beginning instead of reading your amazing story in reverse. Do you have an archive page? I could not find it.
Posted by: craige | January 13, 2006 at 10:16 AM