After over 5 years of infertility, we
finally conceived twins via our second
IVF/ICSI cycle. We were both just
thrilled to be completing our family
all at once.
Other than a couple of early spotting
incidents and severe morning sickness,
my pregnancy was extremely uneventful
until the morning I reached 19w1d. I
had suspected something wasn't right,
but couldn't put my finger on it. I
felt crampy and had had some odd
discharge for the past few days.
We had our level II ultrasound
scheduled for the next day, and I
couldn't wait to find out whether we
were having boys, girls, or one of
each. Unfortunately, we never got
there. I was at work and went to use
the restroom. While I was there, my
membranes prolapsed and the sac broke.
I barely had time to register what had
happened before I started to cry
hysterically and told the other person
in the restroom to call an
ambulance.
I was taken to the hospital, where an
ultrasound was performed. My water had
broken around the B baby (farther from
the cervix) and the baby's heart rate
was slowing down. I asked over and
over whether either of my babies could
survive, but no one wanted to tell me
the honest truth: that both babies
needed to be delivered due to the risk
of infection, and their chances of
survival were nil. If it had been a
simple case of PPROM, there may have
been a chance, but I was already
dilated to 3 cm by the time I got to
the hospital.
I had sporadic contractions throughout
the day until I finished dilating at
about 11:30 that night. I started to
push, and my daughter Grace was born
at 11:45 pm. She weighed just 8.8
ounces and was 9.25 inches long. Even
though she was the baby with the
ruptured sac, she was born with a
heart beat and lived for nearly 2
hours.
In the meantime, her brother Adam was
delivered with the help of Pitocin at
2:01 am. He was also born alive but
only lived for about an hour. He
weighed 9.3 ounces and was 9.5 inches
long. We had both of our perfect
little angels baptized, then cremated
and buried at their grandparents'
cemetery plot. Not a day goes by that
I don't think of them.
Afterward, I was diagnosed with an
incompetent cervix and told that I
would need a cerclage with my next
pregnancy. The next pregnancy turned
out to also be a PPROM experience, but
one with a happier ending.
Bless all the little PPROM angels,
both on earth and in Heaven.
Paula's PAP
Story
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