On April 16, 2005, I was outside
watching my husband work on the yard
when I felt a small gush. I thought
it was urine, and I was actually upset
that at 20 weeks, I already couldn't
control my bladder. After another
episode about an hour later, I started
to wonder if that was really what it
was. I went to the hospital where
they told me that it wasn't amniotic
fluid and that I had an infection.
She gave me antibiotics and sent me
home. The next day it was still
happening more than made any sense for
just an infection. I went back to the
hospital and was admitted because my
water had broken.
I spent 4 days there where my water
seemed to stop leaking. My water was
never below an 8 while I was there,
and they sent me home on bed rest
since there was nothing they could do
for the baby. I was home for a week
when I had a huge gush. I went back
to the hospital only to find that I
had lost basically all of my fluid.
After consulting with the doctors that
would become my perinatologists, they
decided to put me back in the hospital
in my little town for 4 days. The
goal was to get to 23 weeks without
infection so that I could be
transferred to a bigger hospital with
the resources to help a very premature
baby. We made it to the following
Monday and the transfer.
It was a relief to be in a better
hospital where I suddenly felt like
people knew what they were doing- that
it wasn't the first time they had seen
something like this. But it was still
very scary to think that my baby could
be born so early. (I only wish I had
found this site during that time...)
I was there for 4 weeks before I
developed an infection. Over that
time, I never accumulated any fluid
that could even be meausured on a
sonogram. I was still told that since
I was leaking, the baby was still
making fluid meaning that he should be
getting at least some fluid to his
lungs.
Well, on May 30th, 2005, I started to
show signs of infection, and so at
12:03am on May 31 weighing in at 2 lbs
6 oz and 14 inches long, Ethan Matthew
was born via c-section. Given that we
had made it all the way to 27 weeks, I
was finally starting to feel a bit
optimistic about his chances for
survival even though it would be a
rough road in the NICU.
It wasn't to be though. He fought for
21 hours, but the infection and small
lungs were too much for his little
body to handle. He died in my arms at
9:25pm. I am so thankful that I got
to hold him and tell him how much we
love him.
We had a funeral with family and
friends that had been praying since my
water had broken. I know that he is
in heaven in a much better place than
this earth, but it still hurts that he
isn't here with me.
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