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This is a copy of the (P)PROM Page, a new page is under construction. v2.1 /Inkan July 12, 2011



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Marlene's PROM Story   by Marlene, Stockton, N.J. USA
PROM at 19 + 3 weeks, delivery at 20 + 4 weeks
Mail: McDuster@blast.net Story added 2003-10-03
 
My husband and I married late. Neither one of us had been married before. We wanted to try to have a family. On our first attempt we had a miscarriage at about 10 weeks. We went in for an ultrasound and the Doctor told us that there was no heartbeat. There was no other explanation. She said, “That just happens sometimes.” I waited to see if I would miscarry naturally but when I didn’t some weeks later, I went into the hospital for a D & C. We were pregnant about a year later when I was 43. Due to my age, we were monitored very closely during the first trimester. Since there is a high miscarriage rate for women my age during the first trimester, we didn’t tell anyone we were pregnant and just focused on getting through that time period. We had a CVS test and learned that the baby was fine. I didn’t seem to have any complications from the CVS. We completed the first trimester on Mother’s day. We still waited to tell people just to be sure. By the fourth month even my OB said it was time to relax and just enjoy the pregnancy. I hadn’t had any morning sickness or real problems just some nausea.

Around 17 ½ weeks I had some severe cramping. We went to the doctor’s office. They thought the fibroids that I had were deteriorating and told me to take Motrin. The cramping stopped soon after taking the Motrin. The Doctor’s office didn’t seem overly concerned. We listened to the heartbeat on the Doppler machine. The heartbeat was strong. Given what happened during my first pregnancy, I got great comfort from hearing the heartbeat.

About 10 days later, I had cramping again. I took Motrin but it didn’t seem as immediately effective. Sunday was Father’s Day. The cramping subsided but the next day we went to the Doctor’s office again just to be on the safe side. We listened to the heartbeat and again it was strong. I felt fine and went to work on Tuesday.

The next day I woke up at 5:30 am. I thought I had to go to the bathroom. By the time I got to the bathroom the water was gushing and I realized that something was wrong. I woke my husband up and called my doctor. She told us to meet her at the hospital. We rushed to the hospital. I was put in a bed and on IV but otherwise left alone. We were angry that everyone wasn’t running around taking some emergency action. What we didn’t know then was that there was no emergency action to be taken. They were just waiting to confirm by ultrasound that the water had broken. So, we just waited until the ultra sound technicians arrived a long three hours later. They confirmed the worst – that I’d lost most of the amniotic fluid. Our doctor then told us that the baby needed that fluid to develop his lungs so they couldn’t deliver the baby or give him any kind of medication at this stage to help his lungs. Our doctor told us that we had two options. I could lie flat in bed in one position for a week, take fluids, hope that my body would reseal itself and that the fluid would re-accumulate. But, they said this only occurs in a small percent of cases. The hope was that we could at least get through 8 weeks when the lungs would be further developed and they could use medication to assist the baby. The second option was to induce labor. Since the baby was so young, he couldn’t survive. But, now that the membrane was open, there was a concern that I would get a serious infection. The doctor also warned us that there was a possibility that I could spontaneously go into labor. If I did, they would take no action to stop it, even though the baby couldn’t survive because there was nothing they could do for him.

I stayed in bed for seven days. They put me on IV liquids and antibiotics and every few hours day and night a nurse took my temperature, blood pressure, white cell count and checked the baby’s heart rate. I stayed in my one position and we both just hoped and prayed that we’d be in that lucky small percent.

But sometimes my thoughts drifted away especially late at night. Maybe if I hadn’t been such a worrier, maybe if we hadn’t gone for that walk, maybe if I stopped working or stopped driving. Everyday I thought of something new. I just kept asking the baby to hang in there. I cried to God “Please let me have him” and to the baby “Please just stay with me.”

After seven days, they performed the ultra sound. There was no re-accumulation of fluid. We had heard of an experimental procedure to reseal membranes. Our doctor said as long as I was healthy, they’d give us a little time to investigate it. But I could tell everyone was very nervous. I knew there was a nurse at the hospital who had been over forty and pregnant and had died after waiting to see if her ruptured membranes would reseal.

That was a very difficult night. I didn’t sleep. I couldn’t accept that the baby was completely fine; he just needed eight weeks. Since the baby was fine, I felt like my body had betrayed him by not retaining the fluid. I kept apologizing to our baby and telling him that I was sorry I had failed him. As I calmed down, I felt the baby kick for the first time. I thought he was saying, “Please help me. Please do something.”

The next day my temperature spiked over 100 and my white cell count shot up. The doctor told me that I had no more options. Even though at times panic had crept in and my mind wandered to the other possibilities, I realized that I had never believed it would end this way. The nurses rolled me on the bed to the delivery room. They tried to put me in the quietest, most removed room but I could still hear babies crying as they were delivered. My doctor induced labor. About ten hours later I delivered our son. I wasn’t prepared for how perfect he would be. He was just tiny. His chest and feet were moving. We held him until he left us 45 minutes later. We named him Levi. Levi was my husband’s great grandfather and we liked the name. We hadn’t picked a name for him before coming to the hospital but in the hospital we took to calling him little Levi.

I don’t think I understood how much I already felt like a parent even before Levi was born. The pastor at the hospital said that the church says life begins at conception, but he thinks of it as you become a parent when you start to have hopes and dreams for your child. I can’t get over those lost hopes. And, I still can’t help feeling like I failed Levi and my husband. I can’t keep from thinking that there was something I did or failed to do. Levi was so perfect I just felt that maybe I just wasn’t good enough to deserve him.

We talked to two obstetricians and a fertility specialist. No doctor can say with certainty what happened but they all think the best theory is the fibroids. They say fibroids can put you into premature labor but I wasn’t dilated when I was at the hospital. Sometimes I feel like they are just an easy excuse. I had a CVS test, I had a fender bender car accident sometime earlier. But, given the timing, no doctor thinks it was those incidents. When I had the cramping, the doctor’s office said I could continue my activities but take it easy. Now I wish I had just stayed in bed. It never occurred to me.

I can’t believe we got past all the age related barriers only to have something else happen. I already felt like I was pushing it trying to have a baby at my age. I thought Levi was to be our miracle and I was so grateful. All my doctors said they’d be willing to work with us to try aggressively again, but that they can’t recommend it without surgery to remove the fibroids first. I’m scheduled for surgery in a week. I’m still grieving for my son but I’m not ready to say that I won’t ever try again and I don’t have a lot of time. Maybe it’s already too late. If anyone has any information regarding fibroids and their relationship to ruptured membranes, I would love any insights. If there are any older Moms out there with encouraging words, I’d really love to hear from you.

 

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