Tenacity

             

Her defining trait was apparent by virtue of her very existence.  And it has evidenced itself over and over again. 

Just before my 43^rd birthday, I was floored with a surprise pregnancy.  An unlikely event under most circumstances was even more unlikely since I had gone almost 12 years since my last pregnancy.  I dealt with unexplained secondary infertility between my first and second daughters.  Clearly it was to continue after my second, so much so that we presumed we would have no more biological children.  We adopted a son when our girls were school-aged, and the three kids were growing up together for a few years when we found out we were having another baby.

I knew the odds were not great at my age, but after two weeks, just as I began to let myself embrace the good news and had my first OB appointment, I started bleeding.  It was steady.  I was scared and devastated and tried to comfort myself with the idea that I experienced a miracle just by becoming pregnant again in the first place.  I called the doctor who simply advised bedrest, and at the suggestion of a friend, I also began with progesterone supplements.  I’d already had a sonogram a couple days before, and all looked fine then.  My husband and I sought a second sonogram from another OB to figure out what was going on.  I was resigned and sad and continuing to bleed.

At that sonogram, I heard the words I will never forget, “It looks awesome”.  I wondered how that could be, with all the bleeding, and also even if it looked good now, how long would it last under these circumstances?  I was advised to continue to take it very easy and continue to take the progesterone.  I had what is called a sub-chorionic hematoma, which is basically a “bruise” or blood clot where the placenta attached itself to the uterine wall.  The important thing was for the blood clot to get smaller and the fetus to get bigger.  For right now, this baby was hanging in there.  I called my husband from the parking lot and told him the great news, “Shrimpy is holding strong!”

Eventually, of course, the bleeding did subside over the course of a few weeks before it finally ended.  The pregnancy continued, monitored closely due to my age.  After the 20 week sonogram, I got the news that the baby had a two-vessel umbilical cord instead of the usual three.  This could be nothing or it could indicate an abnormality, and being high-risk to begin with, I was advised to get further testing.  And so it continued.  Things kept popping up—inconsistent biophysical profiles and non-stress tests, intrauterine growth retardation—and things kept looking okay after all.  This tiny fetus fought the odds every step of the way.

Because of all the concerns, my labor was scheduled to be induced a few days early.  It is probably symbolic to say it, but the baby opposed being born on the assigned date and in the manner to which I had become accustomed.  Claire arrived by emergency c-section just after 1 the next morning.

Then came nursing.  This newborn, only hours old, was strongly resisting having her head positioned a certain way.  She got downright mad and turned her head in the opposite direction.  The lactation consultant declared she had never seen anything like it.  Little Claire was quite literally flexing her muscles on her very first day.  While she soon began to willingly breastfeed, she did exert her preference and only ever accepted the right side.

Suffice it to say that the toddler years continued in much the same way.  Things didn’t go as they typically do; sleeping and eating were challenges, and they remain so.  Claire is by far the most spirited and strong-willed of my four children, and believe me, she had some tough competition. 

My little girl is now a five-year-old kindergartener.  In September, she got to be Star of the Week in her class and make a poster all about herself.  One of the prompts on the poster began “I’m special  because…”, and when I asked Claire what she wanted to write, she didn’t hesitate to say “I never give up!

Under her tough exterior, though, lies Claire’s very tender soul.  She loves animals and babies, and she’s the most sensitive person I know.  Her sensory processing issues make every touch, smell, taste, and sound more intense for her than for the average person.  It’s difficult to parent such a child, to say the least, but it’s also a beautiful thing to become awakened to that level of perceiving everything around us.

Recently I overheard Claire playing with her 14-year-old brother, who takes karate lessons.  She wanted to spar with him, but he told her he couldn’t because he would end up hurting her.  “Don’t worry, “ she said, “even though I’m little, I’m really strong.” It’s true, and I look forward to spending my golden years watching where her tenacious spirit takes her.