A Living Miracle:

My little Cleo Vivian Palmer came into this world at 27 weeks gestation, at 1 pound and 15.4 ounces, 13.25 inches long, May 4th, 2012. 

I was admitted to the Hospital on April 30th with extreme pre-eclampsia. After 3 days at Ogden Regional I was air lifted to U of U Hospital. My condition became increasingly worse even with the increasing medical help.
It was decided that I would it would be the safest thing to deliver the baby to save my life and the life of my unborn little girl. She was delivered emergency cesarean and our life would be changed forever in a way I never dreamed.

I saw my baby for the first time for only seconds as they held her up only to show her to me and whisked her off to the NICU.

The next time I saw her I was still in a medicated (Magnisium) Fog. She was hooked up to beeping machines, a tube down her throat and wires all over. She was in her new home, where she would be for the next three month. At least until her due date, August 1st.
She was so tiny it was incredible that she looked perfect in every way. ONLY incredibly small. She was alive because of the machines. I still find it amazing that a body of a women can do for a baby what it takes so many machines and wires to do. I was filled with emotions, Love, sadness and longing. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and hold her. Only I couldn't I had to ask permission to touch her.
Her skin was so delicate we could not stroke or rub her. I was only to lightly touch her. I just wished I could kiss her. Every mother dreams of holding there baby for the first time. I never felt that.
I was so grateful that she was in capable hands and was thriving. I knew I couldn't do for her what they could now. I felt saddened that I could no longer care for her.  Feelings of guilt swept through me. What could I have done to keep her inside longer, to avoid this event now. (There is nothing I could have done, I logically knew that.)

I was overwhelmed with the road that was ahead of us. It would be a long time of ups and downs. I wondered, (and still do) if I could handle it.
Day by Day, I knew that. But I don't always think that.

She would be our miracle, she would be the one to show us the power of prayers and trust. This would purify me. Strengthen me and test my limits. I will never be the same. Dealing with this was going to be one of the hardest trials in my life, to this point. Prayers fill my heart constantly.

Saying goodbye:

I was in the hospital for another 5 days after her birth as they tried to stabilize my condition, my blood pressures were still uncontrollable at last it was time to go home. 

Finally being discharged from the hospital was the most wonderful time for me. Having to be apart from my other Three kids was heart wrenching and I wanted nothing more then to be with them. Ten days was a long time to be with out them. (Though, a planned vacation seems like 10 days isn't enough time.) Sitting in a hospital however makes you miss life even with the stress that my kids may bring. 

But leaving  the hospital meant something else, I could just go and see my baby when ever I wanted.

When the moment came to say goodbye and go home, I came to Cleo's Isolate put my hands on her  little body and started to weep. There was an instinct I felt surge for only a second, I wanted to scoop her up and take her home. I knew I couldn't do that. It would mean death. None the less I felt it. Tears fell from my eyes and the nurse handed me  some tissues and kindly put her arms around me and let me cry. I don't know how long I was there looking and just touching my baby, but I wanted time to stop. And yet I wanted the time to go quickly so that she could come home with me. 

We live an hour away and I have 3 other children and many obligations, Plus the price of gas I knew coming daily was no longer a luxury I could enjoy. This broke my heart.

I love you little Cleo Bug!