A page from my book of thoughts


Ten years ago I began an adventure.  A writing.  A book.  Below is the first page of that book…

Jordan "Jody" Esposito

Tears of Jody

I’ve wanted to do this for years.  Maybe a decade.  Why? To share a person with the world.  The story is not unlike thousands of others.  Thousands of parents each year feel what I feel, cry the tears I cry and dream the dreams I will continue dreaming.  Yet, I’ve never really thought of all the other parents during the past fourteen years.  I can tell you I have thought of all the other millions of parents out there with no “Jody’s” in their life.

Waiting

I sit here laughing and then almost crying at just how many times I’ve waited in the last fourteen years.  Waiting has seemed to follow me where ever I go.  Not your typical waiting line at the grocery store or the gas station.  No.  Waiting for an end, death, a beginning.  Waiting for surgery, for healing and for the next surgery.

I now believe eighteen is too young to get married and nineteen is too young to be pregnant.  Twenty is too young to be a parent.  I should have waited.  Waited so that I could handle the turn in my life that would come all too soon.  I can remember waiting for Jody to be born.  A pretty normal pregnancy, though she kept me waiting.  I walked, rode a bike, even pressed my belly a little to encourage her to begin her life outside of me.  When she finally arrived, it was after almost two days of induced labor in which doctors finally gave up.  Cesarean was my destiny.  A life unlike no other was hers.

Looking back, I want to hate my Obgyn.  Three ultrasounds and no detections.  He even spoke of a spine that wasnt quite straight, but overall she looked good.  I do hate him.  Or do I love him?  If I knew then what I know now, could I have terminated my Jody?  Most of me says yes.  The rest, which normally comes with her daily smile of smiles, says emphatically no.

Having a tremendous fear of pain, general anesthesia was my choice for delivery.  When I woke up two hours after birth, I found out my first child was going to leave me almost as fast as I could touch her.  Why? Her father on one side and the doctor on the other tried to talk to me.  I lay there looking up from my bed in a dope filled daze as they explained just that.  Why.

I had waited over nine very long months to greet my first-born and the privilege was being taken away from me.  I would not see my baby.  She was being shuttled by helicopter three hours away to Shands Hospital where she would have her first brain and back surgery.  I would wait in a hospital, childless, alone and devastated.  I had waited and failed.  Both would not be my last.  It would be seven long days before I would get to see, who you will get to know as Jody.

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About wigsbabe

Never be the Mediator... be the writer.
This entry was posted in Family, Health, Pregnancy, Uncategorized and tagged , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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