Birth Date: August 5, 1997
Weight: 4 pounds, 3.6 ounces
Height: 17-3/4 inches
Lewisburg, PA
I foolishly thought the baby had shifted onto my bladder. It continued for 24 hours and stopped abruptly. The entire time the baby moved and kicked. Three days later I started to leak again and called my OB. I went to the hospital for an ultrasound and the tech reported her findings to the OB over the phone. He Ok’d me and sent me home. During the drive home, the ultrasound results were delivered to the OB.”
“When I walked in the door, the phone was ringing. My OB suggested that I return to his office to meet with a perinatologist and bring my husband—but, really, there is no cause for alarm. The perinatologist performed another ultrasound and confirmed that my water broke. After an hour long fetal monitor, they also confirmed that I was having contractions that I couldn't feel, but were indeed the start of labor. I was admitted into the hospital onto the labor and delivery floor; because no one could guarantee that I would not deliver a preemie that night. They started an IV of antibiotics to ward off infection and magnesium sulfate to stop contractions. I was devastated and could barely comprehend the situation because less than 4 hours ago, my baby was fine! They told me so!”
“In came the barrage of neonatologists to explain that my baby had a 63 percent chance of survival and the lungs were very immature and it would need a ventilator. I was given a shot of betamethasone to boost lung development and told to rest. I was hooked up to a constant fetal monitor which I couldn't understand. The heartbeat sound it made got on my nerves after 5 minutes. Let me say that I had no comprehension at that point what a life line that sound would be. A Lamaze teacher came in to give me a crash course in pain management and I basically laughed at her. I wasn't delivering; I am scheduled to start my classes next week! I tried to get some rest, but all I heard that night were screams of pain and cries of pleasure from all the mothers delivering their beautiful, healthy babies like I was supposed to in another 16 weeks.”
“The next morning another perinatologist came in to see me and confirmed again, that my water had broken. He also confirmed that they had slowed down the contractions, but wanted to keep me in L&D for constant monitoring. I received a 2nd shot of betamethasone. I thought I would go crazy because I felt normal, but I wasn't allowed to shower and had to call a nurse every time I had to use the bathroom so she could chart how much! After two days, the doctors agreed that I was stable enough to be moved to the WomanCare floor designed for female patients of all types and some of the nurses were trained for preterm labor.”
“I was thinking I would be discharged and watched very closely, but I learned that premature rupture of membranes (PROM) has a very high risk of infection for the baby. The first day on this floor, I was told by a nurse that ‘You moms that aren't sick can do your own tracking of fluid intake and output, don't call us to dump your hat.’ (the bucket to collect fluid) … if you catch my drift I was OUTRAGED. Here I was, told that I couldn't get out of bed, let alone go home to get anything and that I had to STAY until I delivered whenever that may be and a nurse is saying I’m not sick—I lost it. I continued the IV meds and weekly betamethasone shots and they gave me a mini-pump to administer Terbutiline to also help with the break through contractions I was having. The nurses checked my temp and blood pressure every four hours.”
“The doctors explained that the goal was to make it to 32 weeks, and then we would discuss shutting off meds and seeing what happens. I had daily biophysical profiles (in-depth ultrasounds) to monitor fetal development and two fetal monitor strips were run daily. I became very adept at interpreting the profiles and strips. My first strip was run at 7 a.m. and I would wake up for the positioning of the conductors, then just lay there and listen to my baby's steady little heart beat and just pray that we would be ok. My days were long and boring and I sometimes felt a little stir crazy.”
“My husband was a saint, because on top of all this, we had just moved back to the area and he was trying to adjust to a new position at work. And, we had been looking for a house while living in a service apartment. My husband was wonderful about that. He would go out on Saturday morning house hunting and come in with the camcorder to show me the latest prospects. The doctors approved a 15 minute wheel chair ride daily, but even that became kind of a pain in the butt. I had to ask whoever was visiting if they wanted to go get a drink, never letting on that this was my break for freedom!”
“After about four weeks, I lost it. I completely broke down and cried and yelled and begged them to let me go home. Looking back on this I am appalled, because I was asking them to disregard my baby's health and just let me go. I actually tried to bargain with the doctors about the shut off date for my meds. I remember saying that maybe 30 weeks would be better, maybe 31, PLEASE—that one week makes all the difference in the world for a preemie but at that point I couldn't see that. I can remember crying and telling them, ‘I would give anything to just walk away from this for even five minutes. Just act like this wasn't happening.’"
“That outburst put things back into perspective a little and gave me the resolve I needed to hang on. Meanwhile, medically, my arms were starting to rival a seasoned drug users, so they decided to install a PICC line partially inserted central catheter so they wouldn’t have to change IV sites every 5 days. This was inserted too far and it actually went into the heart chamber. It set off a little PVC that sent my heart beating madly every once in a while. It was fixed, but I was moved up to the cardio floor for 24 hour monitoring. I felt like a zoo creature because these nurses wanted to know everything about preterm and what was that little terbutaline pump I had and how did it work. My EKG read normal so back downstairs I went to my old room, which they held for me. It was cute, the nurses put up a little Welcome Back sign and all stopped by to say hi.”
“A few days later, about five weeks into this, it started. I went to the bathroom one afternoon and there was blood. I panicked and the doctors came to check it out. They confirmed that my placenta abrupted, but not enough to cause harm. The bleeding stopped and the baby continued to kick and show great signs on the biophysics. I want to point out, that NEVER during the daily ultrasounds did we find out the sex. After all this happening, I wanted one surprise left. We named the baby Roo after Kanga and Roo.”
“Days moved by pretty uneventfully until my placenta abrupted the second time, August 1, 1997. They moved me back down to Labor & Delivery for continuous monitoring because the contractions were pretty strong. I remember thinking, this is my father-in-laws's birthday today, please let me hold off until tomorrow. This baby will never live it down. I stayed over night down on L&D & again. Pain and screams filled the air. This time I was terrified. The contractions settled down and back upstairs I went.”
“August 4th, 31 weeks 3 days, I woke up not feeling quite right. I immediately told the nurses who called the doctor. Sure enough, I was contracting at regular intervals, but no bleeding this time. I called my husband and told him that I was being moved downstairs to L&D, and I think there was something in my voice that said this is it. He left work and came to spend the day waiting.”
“At 2:30 p.m. I told them that I thought I abrupted again and just hadn’t bled out yet (my medical diagnosis). The nurse joked that maybe I should go to school for this. The blood results came back and I was right. We all talked about it and the doctors thought that we were close enough to 32 weeks and I had 7 shots of betamethasone under my belt. The baby looked good on that morning's biophys. I panicked and begged them to wait a little while longer. What a switch. Three weeks before I was begging to quit, now I was begging them to stop the contractions and let me continue! They won in the end and let me turn off the IV.”
“By 4:30, my contractions hadn’t changed and they decided to help things along with Pitocin. It did nothing but make my contractions very strong. My husband went to get a bite to eat around 6:30 and I laid there crying. My mom kept calling wanting to come over and I told her no. I wanted to be alone with my husband and I would call her later. After 10 hours of Pitocin, and no dilation, the doctor tried to manually dilate me. I thought I was going to pass out from the pain. I begged for an epidural. At 4:00 a.m. My husband left the room and they started it. So I laid there listening to the heartbeat and loving the relief I felt.”
“Then the baby's heart rate just started slowing down. It was like slow motion. All the way down to 60 bpm. They gave me an oxygen mask and called the doctor. We discussed (very quickly) the cesarean procedure and he left to scrub up. I was given a huge dose of Phenobarbital which had me in left field because it helps reduce brain bleeds in preemies.”
“At this point, the phone rings in my room. I fully believe that mothers have an internal monitor for their children because it was my mother. She had woken up 10 minutes before with this intense fear and couldn't put it out of her mind. I told her what was happening and she said she would be right there. They wheeled me into the delivery room and asked my husband to wait a minute until they were set up. The doctor started to cut and I could feel it. I yelled and he told me they couldn’t wait, that they were putting me under. The last thing I remember was asking for my husband. From my husband, I learned that the nurse went to get him. When they were walking back to the OR at 4:46 a.m., he heard a cry. The nurse turned and said ‘that’s your baby.’ He was amazed because the baby wasn’t supposed to be breathing … It was going to be small and weak & sick! I found out later that when Nicholas came into the world and screamed, the whole OR just kind of froze. They were standing by with a ventilator because he was only 31 weeks 4 days. His apgars were 9 and 9. The first thing I asked was ‘What did I have?’ The second thing was ‘Is he ok?’”
“’Room Air’ sounded like the best words ever uttered. My baby was breathing fine. No vent or extra oxygen needed. The doctor was kind enough to take a picture of my handsome, BREATHING, little boy. Nick spent 24 days in the NICU with no problems at all. He was simply a feeder/grower, as the nurses called it. “