This is the story of Samuel

Our son was born at 36 weeks (more precisely, at 36 weeks and 1 day). For premature babies, every day counts. His weight: an energetic 3 pounds and 15 ounces! This is the story of Samuel, my every day inspiration.

At 31 weeks, I was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia. I knew what it was because a friend of mine was seriously afflicted by this condition while pregnant with her second child. In the end, all went well for her and the baby. Nevertheless, I was scared and worried. As the days and weeks went by, the doctors established our baby had a growth restriction. One more concern to add to my anxious-pregnant-woman’s list! Therefore, the baby and I were closely monitored. Trips to the hospital every two or three days were my new job. Not even my blue arms from the many blood tests could tarnish the wonderful gift of being pregnant. It was the most important role of my life. Consequently, I followed the doctor’s recommendations to the letter and did as little as possible. Eat well, rest, sit, read, sleep, watch TV, go to my doctor’s appointments was all I did. Taking care of the physical aspect was easy but disciplining the mind was a very different story. I had to let go; totally surrender and hope everything would be okay.

Samuel was not even born yet and there he was teaching me amazing lessons of life. Despite his low weight (he was in the 3rd percentile on the growth chart), he was strong and vigorous at every check-up and on every ultrasound. My “Samuel to be” was all there. Small but thriving!

It was just a question of time before the doctors concluded I should be induced in order to maximise the baby’s growth. This way, we could better control how much went in his little tummy. Eventually, the Big-Nerve-Racking-Day arrived. My scenario of the perfect delivery vanished when a well-intentioned nurse in training poked my arm to install the intravenous line (she was probably really nervous…). Suddenly, I felt like I was drifting away… “Vagal chock” said the head nurse as she pulled the plug next to my bed to call-in the entire medical crew!

Before I knew it, a dishevelled gynaecologist was in the room (wondering what the “h…” happened!) surrounded by a squad of nurses. The baby’s heart beat was decelerating so there was no time to be wasted. As they were rushing me through the hallway for an emergency C-Section, all I could think of in this critical moment was: “Whatever happens, happens”. I was so serene that I was wondering if the nurse who was out of breath from pushing my stretcher would make it to the OR. Our final destination: a bright and cold room. A few minutes later, a masked lady told me everything would be ok before putting me to sleep. Behind the doors, my poor husband felt hopeless and apprehensive while this frantic commotion was going on.

What seemed like endless minutes later, he became a father when a nurse asked him if he could hear his son’s first cry. A moment he will never forget (I was still out cold!). Samuel, weighing a healthy 3 pounds 15 ounces was born! Minutes later, I met my son for the first time. I remember this instant as if it happened 30 seconds ago. Looking at his brilliant dark eyes, I thought: “He’s my son”. I was meeting my baby boy for the first time: a strange and wonderful feeling all at the same time (I have to admit being under morphine at that point might have altered my thinking a bit). Regardless, my angel was born!

Since that exact minute, 5 years ago, Samuel never stopped impressing me and teaching me the great lessons of life. He’s my inspiration to become a better person and an improved version of myself.

My husband and I consider ourselves extremely fortunate to have brought into this world an amazing and healthy little boy (BTW, not so little anymore… from 3% at birth, he is now in the 95th percentile on the growth chart!) We would love to give a little brother or sister to Samuel. Two miscarriages later, this is still a strong desire. Our family won’t give up because we believe in the miracles of life!