I found out I was pregnant in March of
2002 just after celebrating my 41st
birthday. The first part of May, my ob
sent me to Houston for an amnio due to
my age. During the amnio I found out I
was carrying a boy and everything
looked good. 12 days later (Memorial
Day) and exactly 13 weeks pregnant I
felt like I was leaking. I told my
other kids that I thought my water had
broken and I drove myself to the
hospital. I went straight to l&d and
the nurse did the fern test and
confirmed that yes, it looked like my
water had broken. She said it was too
early for them to do anything and she
expected the ob to recommend
termination. My Dr. arrived not long
after and I asked him what my options
were. He told me if he sent me to
Houston, the only thing they could do
was to terminate. He himself did not
believe in termination and I asked him
what I could do to try to carry the
baby. He advised me to go home, lay on
my left side and drink tons of
fluids.
Well, that is just what I did. My Dr.
scheduled weekly ultrasounds, and did
a lot of reading on the internet. He
had me eat as much protein as I could
stand and the only time I could get up
was to go potty or to the hospital or
his office. He was really wonderful
and told the l&d staff that anytime I
wanted to come in and check the babies
heart to let me. The entire staff
expected me to lose Dylan however I
wasn't ready to give up and neither
was he. Each time someone came in to
check on me, I had them sign the
inside cover of Dylan's baby book. I
never did have any contractions until
later in my pregnancy (when I got
infected). My cervix remained closed
and I never had any bleeding.
I continued to leak slow and steady
amounts until my 22nd week when I lost
all of the fluid I had re-accumulated
(which wasn't very much). My Dr. put
me in the local hospital where he
could monitor me and start me on
steriods. He had started trying to
transfer me to Houston but I was still
not considered viable. After I
finished the steriods he sent me home
however he put me back in so I would
have priority in getting transferred.
He actually managed to get me
transferred when I was 23 weeks when I
started running a low grade fever and
they sent me to Houston by ambulance
and parked my behind at l&d and
expected I would have a baby by the
end of the day. No baby, just a couple
of really bad d-cells (drops in the
baby's heartrate) but he finally
leveled out and I finally ended up in
the ante-partum section to wait for
the big event. Each week I had
ultrasounds to see how Dylan was
growing and whenever possible, my kids
drove up to see me. They made a sign
for my door that read "Dylan's Mom
lives here" and we settled in for the
long haul. I was lucky enough to find
this list and then I was blessed
enough to have a PROM queen living in
the area (Thanks Kathleen) who was
pregnant with twins and went to her
peri (who was my peri now) weekly so
she came for visits.
When I was 27w, I started having lots
of contractions, but when they checked
(by speculum only) I was not showing
any progress. I was running a temp of
about 99 however my family's temp
always runs low. If any of my kids
temp ever ran 98.6, I knew they were
sick, but I could not convince anyone
in Houston of this. Finally they did a
bloodtest which showed I had an
infection so they tried to induce,
however an infected uterus does not
contract effectively and Dylan was
tired and started having d-cels. They
immediately decided to do an emergency
c-section to save Dylan's life. My son
(17 years at the time and the baby of
our family) had arrived the night they
started the induction and after
spending the whole night coaching me
throught my contractions realized he
could not handle the thought of them
cutting his mother open, so Dylan's
soon-to-be nanny/godmother went into
surgery with me. I never got to hear
him cry at delivery and they put him
on the vent immediately. I saw him for
a brief second before they rushed him
upstairs to the NICU. He was on the
edge of 27-28 weeks, weighed 2lbs 14oz
and was 14 inches long. He is built
like his daddy (6'5" and 260 lbs) so I
wasn't surprised at his size. Since I
had an infection, I couldn't go in the
NICU to see him and I thought my son
PJ was going to go through the roof
when they told him he had to have one
of Dylan's parents in order to go in.
Thank God that the nurses and Drs.
from my floor contacted the NICU and
arranged to have him and his older
sister brought in to see him.
Dylan spent time on the vent, CPAP and
eventually went home on O2. He had a
real problem learning to eat and we
spent every day rooing (kangaroo care)
for about 12 hours a day. The only
time he wasn't on my chest was when I
was pumping next to his bed. He spent
a total of 69 days in the NICU (I
moved to the Ronald McDonald house).
He remained on O2 until he was 18
months old. He has dysphgia
(swallowing disorder) and a huge oral
aversion. He also has unilateral
hydronephrosis (kidney problem) but
after a year of prophelactic
antibiotics he seems to be doing ok)
Like his kidney Dr says, if we have to
potty train him after college so be
it!! He still doesn't eat solid food
but he is learning. No words yet, and
maybe never. He is PDD and autistic
however it is too soon to tell where
he is on the spectrum.
All I know is that he is my son and as
far as I am concerned he is perfect.
My own little miracle.
I hope this story gives someone else
the inspiration to hold on and wait it
out. God bless all of you and everyone
who worked so hard to bring Dylan into
this world alive. I couldn't have made
it with out any or you or my 6 other
crazy kiddos!!
|
|
