I wondered for 8.5 weeks about how my
story would appear here. Would I be
one of the miracle lucky ones or would
I join the ranks of all the mamas who
lost their angels? I prayed that I
would be one of the lucky ones, but
prepared myself for a loss. I never
really believed that my baby would
loose the battle. I was determined to
make it, and I did, to viability.
I had hope. I thought that I would not
be much of a mother without it. I will
never regret my 8.5 weeks on bedrest,
giving my son a chance at life. But in
the end, he was called home to
heaven.
My grief is overwhelming and I feel
like I have to share this story with
as many people as possible. We tried
for 20 cycles, 16 months to get
pregnant with our second child. I was
on my 6th cycle of clomid and actually
had an IUI scheduled when I found out
that I was pregnant. We were so
excited when we discovered we were
pregnant shortly after the new year.
I was having a normal healthy
pregnancy, eating well, exercising,
normal horrible morning sickness. I
took my folic acid, had been for
almost a year before, my prenatals,
b6. I was doing everything right.
I was 16w3d. On Tuesday evening 11
April, 2006, I went to be a little
early as I had not been feeling well.
I had felt fluish the day before. At
7pm, I felt a little trickle and
wetness in my pants. I was filled with
dread. I thought maybe I was bleeding.
I went to the bathroom and found it
was just wet. I was praying that I had
just urinated, and emptied my bladder
again. I had just emptied it before I
went to bed. I knew in my heart what
it was.
I continued to leak all night on and
off. I went to the dr frist thing the
next morning. I was sent to L&D. It
was confirmed that my water did in
fact break.
All the doctors urged me to terminate.
I absolutely refused. My baby had a
good strong heartbeat and I was not
going to give up on him. I decided
that if it was God's will, I would go
into labor too early. Otherwise, I
would try to get to viability and give
this child a chance at life. I was
sent home on strict bedrest, waiting
to see if I would go into labor. I had
weekly u/s, CBC draws and vitals to
make sure I did not develop an
infection. The plan was to see if I
could make it to 24 weeks, viability,
and be admitted to the hospital until
my baby was born.
To all their disbelief, I did make it
back to the hospital. My baby was
strong and growing well. I received my
steroid shots at 24 weeks and put on
antibiotics. The plan was to wait
until I got to 32 weeks, developed an
infection or started bleeding heavily.
I was doing well until Friday morning
9 June, 2006. I had my vitals at
midnight, like normal but I felt a
little strange. I was sweating all
over, however I was tired and thought
I was just a little warm. My heart had
been beating hard all day, not racing,
but just hard. At 2am, I felt like I
was leaking more, but it felt
different. I turned on a light to use
my bed pan and discovered I was
bleeding. My bed, my pad, my clothes
were all covered in blood. I went to
the bathroom in my bedpan and it was
filled with blood. I called the nurses
to come help.
I was transfered immediately to L&D.
They asked if I felt contractions and
I said no. They hooked me up to the
machine. I was horrified when I felt
another gush of blood, and I told my
nurse. She said that I had a
contraction. They were coming about
every 3-5 min and I was bleeding with
each. My plecenta was detaching. They
prepared me for an emergency c-
section.
I was frightened, terrified, because
I knew that my baby would not make it.
He had a 50/50 chance, that is what
all the doctors had told me. In my
heart, I knew that my fluid levels
were too low for him to have developed
his lungs at that age. I just felt
dread.
My husband was called and told he
would never make it to the hospital in
time and not to rush. I was in shock
and even more terrified that I had to
go through this alone. The doctors
were so kind and caring; they were so
gentle with me through the whole
procedure. I had to have a classical c-
section as my uterus was too small
gestationally.
Peter Anthony was born at 4.13 am and
the doctor said, it's a boy and he is
moving. This was the first time I
heard I had a son. My fluid levels
had been too low during all of my
ultrasounds to indicate the sex. I
felt a little hope that he was moving,
but he never cried.
There were so many doctors and nurses
around my baby boy. I got a brief
glimps of him as they moved him from
the room. I saw his eyes looking at
me. An image that will never leave me.
It was like he was confused as to why
he couldn't breath. While he was
inside me, he was healthy and growing
and moving. Now he was in a fight for
his life.
His doctor came to see me immediately
in recovery. He told us that they gave
him shots to help him breath, but he
just didn't have the lungs to sustain
life. My doctor ordered a wheel chair
and they lifted me into the chair and
took me and my husband to our son. I
was able to caress his tiny foot as
they were trying to get oxygen into
his lungs. His doctor then took us to
a room where he informed us they gave
him a second shot and after 1.5 hours,
there was nothing more they could do
for him. I could not bare for him to
suffer anymore. They stopped all
efforts to save him.
I was taken back to recovery and they
brought my perfect little boy to me.
His heart was still beating, but he
was not breathing. I held him in my
arms until he died. I got to hold him
and touch his little hands and feet.
His tiny legs and arms. I was able to
kiss him and tell him how much I loved
him.
He was 1 lb 7 oz (725 grams) and 11.25
inches long. He was my beautiful baby
boy; he looked like his sister.
I have to remind myself everyday that
I gave him a chance at life even
though I knew that the odds were
against us. I fought hard for Peter,
and he too fought for his life. In the
end, the Lord called him home and he
found his wings.
|
|