Like most pregnant women, I thought having my first child would simple and uneventful. Never mind I was so huge that cows (in the pasture behind my house) mistook me for a herd member, the toilet and I had a very cozy relationship, and my ankles vanished at the beginning of the second trimester.
I was induced at nine months, one week, and then the real fun began. After 48 hours of non-productive labor, my Ob-Gyn entered the room and announced he was performing a C-section because "it is Friday, 5 o'clock PM", and he had an appointment with the golf course. Nice, huh? He also said, rather casually, that according to the monitor, my unborn child's heart rate had began to drop.
Had I been a tad more knowledgeable, and a little older, I would've screamed malpractice faster than the good doc could swing that blasted golf club.
As a result of the stress he endured just by being born, my dear baby boy began having grand mal seizures when he was two years old, gross/fine motor skills were almost non-existent, and there was a delay in speech in learning.
Jonathan was enrolled in ECI (Early Childhood Intervention), and even though he improved, there were some acquaintances who advised me "not to expect too much from a special needs child". Wonderful how supportive some people can be, huh?
My son didn't get that memo, because he's overcome so many obstacles. My complete story about him is Cup of Comfort for Parents of Children With Special Needs. I could go on and about his accomplishments, but instead you can read a little about Jonathan here, his story, written in his own words (freshman orientation paper).
I was induced at nine months, one week, and then the real fun began. After 48 hours of non-productive labor, my Ob-Gyn entered the room and announced he was performing a C-section because "it is Friday, 5 o'clock PM", and he had an appointment with the golf course. Nice, huh? He also said, rather casually, that according to the monitor, my unborn child's heart rate had began to drop.
Had I been a tad more knowledgeable, and a little older, I would've screamed malpractice faster than the good doc could swing that blasted golf club.
As a result of the stress he endured just by being born, my dear baby boy began having grand mal seizures when he was two years old, gross/fine motor skills were almost non-existent, and there was a delay in speech in learning.
Jonathan was enrolled in ECI (Early Childhood Intervention), and even though he improved, there were some acquaintances who advised me "not to expect too much from a special needs child". Wonderful how supportive some people can be, huh?
My son didn't get that memo, because he's overcome so many obstacles. My complete story about him is Cup of Comfort for Parents of Children With Special Needs. I could go on and about his accomplishments, but instead you can read a little about Jonathan here, his story, written in his own words (freshman orientation paper).
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