For as long as I can remember, I've wanted to be a mother. It really burned in me.
It took some time to find the intended groom, but when it did, we got married quickly and I immediately became pregnant.
I was so happy and loved every moment.
I was eagerly awaiting the moment when I would hear the heartbeat on the ultrasound and feel the fetus' movements.
Everything was great and all the tests were normal.
Then, one night at 26 weeks, right after I finished my shift (I'm a nurse by profession) I had a strange discharge. I thought it was part of the pregnancy, but I started to worry.
The next day there was bleeding and I immediately went to the doctor.
The ultrasound showed significant shortening of the cervix. I was hospitalized and given a Celeston injection.
I started to get scared and read about premature births and all the consequences that come with it. The nurses and doctors on the ward kept saying that I got the 'lucky bed' on the ward, and all the patients who got that bed carried until at least 34 weeks. I tried to be optimistic.
The next day my water started to break, and after two more days I started bleeding heavily and they took me to the delivery room for observation. Very quickly, contractions developed and my baby was born, at 27+1 weeks and weighing 969 grams.
So small – I didn't even have to press.
The midwife gave it to the doctor and the nurse from the maternity ward and I tried to see what they were doing. I heard that the doctor wanted to deliver the baby right away and the nurse said there was no need because the stortion was normal.
They took him to the maternity ward and my husband ran after them. The midwife left for a few minutes and I remember being left alone with all my thoughts and fears. I didn't know what was happening to Yuval.
After a while, my husband came back and said he was fine and was using CPAP.
After 10 days, they started breathing, and so two months passed with tubes in his nose and a tube in his mouth.
Because they were unable to wean him off the ventilator, he was given steroids, and after a few days
(And chubby cheeks as a result of the steroids) Yuval managed to breathe on his own, using only oxygen goggles.
After a month in which he took many breath breaks and learned to eat from a bottle, we discharged him home.
Weighing 2.760 kg.
3 months full of ups and downs in the neonatal intensive care unit are over. I'm not sure if the fact that I'm a nurse and understand a little more helped me cope or made it harder. It wasn't an easy experience. I cried non-stop and pumped a lot of milk. To this day, when I see the scars left from all the injections and try to fall asleep at night, I remember those days and cry. It's probably burned into me forever.
The first year was challenging – inguinal hernia surgery, treatment and monitoring for reflux, physiotherapy once a week, and monitoring the child's development.
Today, Yuval is 3 and a half years old, the eldest brother of two-year-old Ma'ayan, who was born at 40+3 weeks.
He is a healthy, smart, generous, smiling child, full of joy and a conqueror of hearts.
He is my miracle, my hero, and I thank him every day.