Coping with a pregnancy for a child that has a known onslaught of congenital heart defects seems like a very grown up problem. I don’t think we ever feel like we’ve “grown up”. Inside of us is still a child. Most days I can be a strong and confident mother who believes this will all be alright and my son will persevere. But, the child in me can be very panicky some days. And every time I have reached a moment where I don’t have the strength to stay positive any longer and the complete fear of watching my son die hits me, something amazing has happened.
As soon as the tears come, Rowan fights. He kicks and punches and rolls hard and deliberate. It is as if he is trying to get my attention and remind me that he is in this fight too. And he is strong. One of the amazing things about being pregnant is that you are never alone.
23 weeks and his kicks are painful already. Looks like we have a fighter.
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