One year ago I sat in a hospital bed wearing nothing but a pair of cycling shorts and sports bra. My legs didn't really work, and when I tried to move them using my hands it felt like I was getting stabbed with 100 steak knives. Only one doctor spoke English there, and he wasn't on duty, just nice enough to come in every few hours to check up on me and explain the situation. There was a NP who spoke a little English, but mostly I was helpless and alone. The day before I had been 'La Championa', they had cheered 'fuerte' at me and I had felt powerful, strong, proud. Now I was no one, with a dying cell phone (no way to communicate with loved ones in the US) and a broken body. It felt like the worst day of my life. I cried for maybe 5 of the 10 hours I was there before checking myself out without the doctors permission. I laid in that bed thinking about how I was giving up on my dream of wining La Ruta, of what this Rhabdo meant for my body, my career, and although I didn't really understand that I was dying at the time, it felt so hopeless.
Fast forward to today, November 4, 2019 I am writing a blog post while you nap. There is an infant car seat by the door and baby bottles have replaced cycling bottles in the sink. I blinked an eye and my life is dramatically different. It doesn't seem real sometimes, it's beyond my wildest dreams to wake up each morning and see your perfect being next to me. Because I almost died I got you. Because the heat stroke, dehydration, and rhabdomylosis I was forced to stay off the bike for 3 weeks, just long enough for my body to return to normal female functioning, just long enough to conceive you.
I feel lucky beyond explanation that life took this turn. After 10 hours in Hospital Max Peralta, the following two days of travel, uncertainty and pain, the weeks of waiting to recover, depression and despair, for all that to result in you is mind blowing. We didn't necessarily expect you, and it was certainly a surprise when we found out 3 months later that the lethargy and off-ness I experienced all through December was because you were growing in my womb. But it was the most beautiful surprise. Words cannot express how grateful I am, how incredibly lucky I feel every time I look at your face. I would do it all over again, I would push myself past the reasonable limit, give up on the dream, suffer from the agonizing pain, loneliness,and despair, to meet you. Thank you for turning one of the hardest days of my life into the most beautiful year. Thank you for teaching me that the suffering was worth it, and that there are more important things in life than bike racing. Thank you for making me a mother.
your biggest fan,