I wish I could say my pregnancy was
uneventful from the very beginning, but
it was actually quite the contrary. I
found out I was pregnant on August 16,
2005 (I was only 3 weeks, 3 days along)
while visiting the doctor to find a
reason for unexplained bleeding that
began right after I ovulated. I had
suffered this problem before, but it was
especially bad this month. The doctor
shocked me with the news that I was
pregnant and decided the bleeding was
coming from my cervix and not related to
the pregnancy. I was terrified as I had
suffered an early miscarriage in June
2004.
In addition, I got pregnant the first
month we tried after losing our daughter
at 23 weeks to a terrible condition
caused by a freak genetic mutation.
That was in April 2005. We waited three
months and two cycles before trying
again and were blessed to get pregnant
right away.
The bleeding lessened, but I continued
to have light spotting throughout the
first trimester. Otherwise, I felt
great…no morning sickness, nothing
negative at all about the pregnancy. I
took it easy though and didn’t do much
lifting or overdoing it at all because
of the spotting and my previous
complications.
Then on the night of November 15, 2005,
my life changed and the life I knew
stopped. Everything went on hold.
While sitting at the computer that
evening I had an excruciating pain on my
lower right side. I laid down on the
floor and moved from side to side trying
to find relief. Then the pain went
away and I felt fine…until I felt
something odd, a discharge of some sort.
I checked and saw blood. I went to the
toilet and blood gushed out. I was 16
weeks, 3 days into the pregnancy and I
was terrified.
Soon after I was at the ER and after a
long wait for the doctor (and more
bleeding), I was devastated when the
doctor said there seemed to be amniotic
fluid when she did an internal exam. My
doctor came to the hospital and tests
confirmed the original doctor’s fear…I
was leaking amniotic fluid. I was told
that this was a devastating blow to my
pregnancy and that it was highly
unlikely that my child would survive.
Though I was offered termination as an
alternative, my doctor said there was a
remote possibility he could make
it…though he’d probably be premature.
We started praying for this…hoping with
all our might. That night, the baby
still had some amniotic fluid. It was
low, but not dangerously so. The next
morning, it seemed to be holding
steady.
I went home on strict bedrest. I only
got out of the bed to go to the bathroom
and to take a quick shower every two
days (until after 24 weeks when I began
daily or every other day showers...and
allowed myself a little more time on my
feet -- especially after 32 weeks). I
did everything in bed laying down
(eating, receiving visitors, reading,
computer time, etc). I learned
everything I could about PPROM. I began
going to the doctor weekly for
ultrasounds to check my AFI (amniotic
fluid index) and I had my white blood
cell count checked weekly as well (to
monitor for infection). My doctors were
fabulous because they gave me, they gave
my son, a chance.
My AFI started out less than 10 but more
than 5 cm. Within a few weeks it
started increasing slowly. First it was
in the range of 10-15 cm…then by the
time I reached viability (24 weeks), it
was well within the range of “normal” –
it was over 15 cm. Though the plan had
originally been to hospitalize me at 24
weeks, it was deemed unnecessary. I
stayed on bedrest however. I received a
round of steroid shots at 25 weeks, and
a booster soon after. I began weekly
NSTs to monitor the baby starting at 26
weeks. He seemed to be thriving. Our
miracle was taking shape.
After I reached 38 weeks, my doctors
decided to go ahead and bring our little
miracle into the world. He seemed to be
ahead of the curve with his size, and
considering he had the benefits of
steroids, they decided not to leave him
to chance any longer. At 38w5d, I was
induced. Hours after the induction
began I felt a pop and then some fluid.
My water actually broke (again!). I’ve
never been so happy in all my life…until
I heard my baby cry when he was born
hours later. That was the sweetest
sound my ears will ever hear.
I spent 20 weeks on bedrest (was taken
off at 36 weeks) and every minute, every
second, was worth it. On April 20, 2006
my son, Thomas, was born weighing a
healthy 8 pounds, 4 ounces! He is
living proof that miracles do happen and
that odds can be overcome. The day I
found out I was pregnant, I noticed a
wooden cutout of the word “believe” on
the windowsill at my doctor’s office.
That became my mantra for the entire
pregnancy. I believed and now there is
a sweet baby boy sleeping peacefully
next to me as I type.
I’ve learned in my life that all
pregnancies are miracles and all babies
are gifts from God. But there are some
that are extra special…some that make us
believe even when we don’t think we can.
For as much as I had reason to doubt
that my Thomas would make it, he had
other plans. So please, if you are
reading this after suffering your own
PPROM experience, please know that
miracles do happen.
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