HI. My name is Stacie, and I happened
across this site as I was searching
for info about pregnancy after PROM.
My husband and I are trying to decide
if we want to try again. It's been a
year and a half - but it still hurts
like it was yesterday . . .
My PROM pregnancy began the second
week in June, 2005. It was an
unplanned pregnancy and a big
surprise, especially since my only
other pregnancy required the help of
Clomid and timed ovulation. Since my
first pregnancy went just fine, I
didn't even think to worry about this
one. But when I began having
continuous spotting and occasional
heavy bleeding (in the 1st trimester)
we began to get concerned. Ultrasounds
revealed no problems, so we went on as
usual. I had bad morning sickness and
hadn't gained much weight, and the
bleeding continued with no other
symptoms. Then around week 18
everything stopped and it was great.
The 20 week ultrasound showed the baby
was fine and that it was a boy. We
were relieved. Then that very week I
started having a watery, sometimes
pinkish discharge. It had no smell, so
although I didn't understand how it
could be urine, I accepted my OB's
statement that I was just having
urinary incontinence and not to worry.
Then at week 24 day 4, I felt like I'd
run a marathon. Everything ached and I
was exhausted. I took a shower to try
to revive, but as soon as I got out,
my water broke. I was terrified - as
everyone is - and thought, well, this
is it - the baby can't possibly make
it. We'll have to be strong and deal
with this tragedy. But at the
hospital, to my surprise, I was told
that I'd be transferred to another
hospital and taken care of by
different doctors who would try to
hold off active labor for as long as
possible, up to 30 weeeks. I had no
other signs of labor, no infections,
so they gave me antibiotics and
steroids for the baby's lungs and put
me on complete bedrest, with sonograms
every two days to check the fluid
levels (virtually none) and the
baby's "practice breathing". After the
1st week, I was given bathroom
priveledges (yay!)and my family
settled in with me in the hospital, my
2 year old bouncing between
grandparents, and my sister and
parents running my business. My
husband spent his time split between
work, the hospital and visits with our
2 year old son. It was stressful, but
it was our life - and we had it worked
out. Then at 27 weeks, I felt as if I
was coming down with the stomach flu.
I became very grumpy, and in the wee
hours of the next morning, I started
contractions. They gave me meds to
stop them, but when the contractions
started again that afternoon, the
doctors told me they were going to
deliver because an infection had most
likely set in. I moved through the
labor really fast, and since the
nurses kept putting the monitoring
belt to high on my stomach (the baby
was really low - he was so little and
there was no fluid - you'd think
they'd know that!), I was fully
dilated and the baby's hand was out
before they believed my statement
that "it was time". Timmy was
delivered on December 6, 2005. He of
course went straight to the NICU, but
he was feisty and strong and weighed a
whopping 2 lbs, 1 oz. I had labored
with no meds, which I didn't mind, but
then had to deal with the OB trying to
remove a retained placenta. After 30
min. of absolute agony, they put me
under general anesthetic and did a D&C
to remove the rest. Over the next
days, Timmy made good progress, coming
off the respirator almost immediately,
then coming off the C-Pap to the nasal
cannon, then just on the nasal cannon
on "room air". Then after all that
progress, he started to slide back,
heart Bradys, back on the nasal cannon
w/oxygen, back on the C-pap. My life
was a carefully scheduled whirlwind of
parenting a 2 yr old, running a
business, traveling an hour and 15 min
each way to the hospital every day or
every other day, and squished in any
spare moment, pumping breastmilk for
the baby. There wasn't time for
everything - but we tried to do it all
anyway. What else could you do? Then
early Dec. 29, 2005, the hospital
called to tell us Timmy had come down
with an intestinal infection
overnight. Further phone calls to my
cell as I traveled to the hospital
revealed the true seriousness of the
situation, and when I heard the
words "necrotizing enterocolitis" my
brain linked necro and death and I
lost it. They transferred Timmy to
aonther hospital for surgery, and we
arrived just in time to speak to the
doctors. We knew from the looks on
their faces that we were losing him. A
social worker was appointed to our
case - and we were blessed to have our
situation overheard by others in the
waiting room who offered to pray with
us. The surgery revealed that most of
Timmy's intestines were dead, and the
doctors removed almost all of them.
Then we were told all we could do was
wait to see if he turned one way or
the other in the next hour or so. He
did, he went downhill fast. All that
worked was his heart and brain, and we
were told to make the decision whether
to take him off of life support or
wait until his heart stopped on its
own. When we went in to see him again
he just looked like a shell, and since
the outcome was the same, we decided
to end his suffering and take him off
the respirator. They kept him on
morphine, and I got to hold him as he
slipped away.
I just don't know of I can face this
again. I'm ready and willing to do
anything I can to prevent a similar
outcome - but I've read that my risk
of preterm labor is even higher now
that I've had one already. I don't
know what to do - I really want
another baby and I'm so scared.
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