Elydia Villanueva

You never think it's going to be you. 

You never think it's going to be you who (im)patiently waits, hopes, dreams, yearns for 8 years to get pregnant after trying and being so defeated each month. You never think it's going to be you who has failed attempt after failed attempt of fertility treatments. You never think it's going to be you who finally gets pregnant to only suffer a tragic miscarriage. When you get pregnant again, you never think it's going to be you who has to go through a chemical dissolution to your pregnancy because of medical complications. And when you FINALLY get pregnant again…you never think it's going to be you who is hospitalized at 20 weeks gestation when you actually went in feeling really good. You never think it's going to be you being rushed into an emergency c-section at 26 weeks 6 days ('cause the days matter!) to save your baby. I never thought it was going to be me.

Until it was me.

Nothing prepared me for all these things but here I am. Here we are. It wasn't just me, it was my husband, my family and my friends. We are all the face of a premature baby. Why? Because we all love her and we all went through this together. 

Born at 1 lb 8.9 ozs and 12.99 inches. She is now a very healthy almost 4 years old. She's beautiful, she's perfect, and beyond a precious blessing from God. 

The reality of prematurity is not having the ideal pregnancy and birth you thought you would and having to mourn that dream. It's mourning the dream of birthing your baby and being able to do skin to skin right away. It's mourning not being able to have your family celebrate your baby by coming to the hospital and holding her. It's mourning all of those dreams. It's praying for her in a covered incubator that looks like a mechanical coffin. It's holding in your screams and tears when she codes and is revived. It's feeling so helpless, and scared to touch her because her skin hasn't fully developed. It's literally watching your baby continue to form outside of the womb. But you know what else it is…

It's celebrating an ounce of weight. It's celebrating getting 5 people to help you hold your baby for the first time. It's being so grateful for a team of doctors and nurses caring that your baby can regulate their temperature so she can be in an open bed, and gain enough weight to be 3 lbs so she can move to the “big baby” NICU. It's signing into the Ronald McDonald's House every day to take a mental break and have a bite to eat. It's participating in rounds as if you are somehow a part of the team. It's advocating for your baby and appreciating every tiny milestone as if it is the best thing in the world because you know its one more thing to check off the list before you get to go home. And it doesn't stop when you get home. 

It's like life actually starts when you get home. And being so paranoid as to do everything you can to prevent any kind of hospital visit. It's memorizing every diagnosis, every treatment, every medication, and most importantly trying to remember the smiles. Sometimes its hard to remember those because you're doing everything you can to protect your baby. Yet time still passes and every day you let go a little bit and realize, your amazing care team, your amazing hospital, your amazing primary nurse and your amazing family have helped you get this walking miracle to be a healthy little kid.

My baby girl had to have a gTube to leave the NICU and only had it for a year. Now all she has is a scar. It's the only visible reminder of her time in the NICU. We call it her battle scar. You can see hers, ours is invisible…but truly only by God's grace have we made it to this side. 

I've supported the MOD for over 20 years and never really understood what it meant but now I do. I know the importance in supporting what the MOD does and stands for. We are some of the lucky ones because we know not everyone's story have a happy ending like ours and we are grateful every day for it. We just want to help the next family who never thought it would be them.