On Thursday, September 9, 2004, we got
the amnio results that my husband and
I were having a healthy baby boy. I
told the OB that I had been having
some mild cramping over the previous
couple of days, plus one spot of blood
that morning, and she said not to
worry. Although I had also noticed
some odd, painless tightness or
hardness in my lower belly, I was so
excited about the amnio results that I
left without remembering to tell the
OB about it.
Despite the good news, my energy was
really low that night and I went to
bed early. Around 4am the next
morning, I rolled over in my sleep and
felt a pop and then a huge warm
gush. We called our OB and were told
to go to the labor and delivery floor
at the hospital. I had no signs of
infection at that time I was admitted,
but I had started to have some
bleeding. While we waited for a
doctor, my husband and I kept talking
to our little boy, telling him how
much we loved him and how we were
doing everything we could to take care
of him.
Around 9am, the OB came in and the
ultrasound showed that there was no
fluid left around the baby, although
our son's heartbeat was fine. The OB
then did an internal digital vaginal
exam and said that although my cervix
was still long, I was 1cm dialated.
She said that we had no choice but to
induce because of the risk of
infection (even though I was still
showing no signs of infection), and
that we should begin as soon as
possible.
After the OB left, my husband and I
both broke down and cried. We were
devastated and in shock about the
baby, and worried about my health as
well. Before they could start the
medication, however, the
perinatologist who performed the amnio
called. He said that he did not
believe that the rupture was related
to the amnio since the rupture occured
10 days after the amnio, but that if
we wanted we could wait until the next
day to see whether the fluid would
start to replenish. I told him that I
had been bleeding a little, but he was
unconcerned so of course we decided to
wait.
My husband and I spent the next 24
hours talking with our baby and crying
a lot. The nurses came in to take my
temperature every hour and encouraged
me to stay hydrated. During this
time, I continued to have bleeding and
clotting, as well as the tightness
across my lower abdomen which the
nurse said were contractions.
The next morning the peri did another
ultrasound and although the baby's
heartbeat was still strong, the peri
said that my bleeding was a sign that
we had no choice but to induce. The
OB came in afterwards and agreed with
the peri, and said we should start the
meds to induce as soon as possible. I
don't remember being given the option
to wait for labor to begin naturally,
or to have an unmedicated birth (only
a choice between an epidural or large
doses of Demerol).
Although the OB told us to start the
meds right away, our nurse said that
we should take the time we needed to
prepare for what was going to happen.
She encouraged us to talk about
whether we wanted to see our son after
he was born, whether we would like to
have him baptized/blessed, and what we
would like to do with his body. She
also told us about some grief
resources for after we went home. We
spent the next couple of hours talking
and crying, and preparing to say
goodbye to our baby boy.
I mostly slept between the first dose
of Demerol and when I was in active
labor. My husband spent the day
talking to the baby, trying to squeeze
in a lifetime of father-son talks into
those few short hours. In the late
afternoon, the hospital chaplain came
and said a blessing for us and our
son.
Around 9:45pm on September 11, 2004,
our son Natsuhiko was born. He
weighed
6.4oz, was 9 inches long, and was
absolutely perfect. The nurses left
us alone for an hour or so to hold and
talk with our son before our OB came.
Because of the Demerol, I can't
remember much of the time we spent
with him or what he looked like.
Fortunately, we have some photos and
hand and footprints that the mortuary
took for us, but it is just another
layer of heartbreak that I don't
really have my own memories of my son
because of the drugs.
Because we lost our son less than six
weeks ago, my husband and I are not
sure when or whether we would like to
try another pregnancy. I think our
first step will be to find a
perinatologist in the Los Angeles area
who is familiar with pPROM (all
suggestions welcome!) so that we can
feel confident about even attempting
another pregnancy. In the meantime,
the stories on this website and the
email list have been so helpful to us
and we are so grateful to all of you
for sharing your experiences.
|
|
