By Natasha, Edmonton, Alberta Canada
PROM at 20 weeks + 1 days. Delivery at 26 weeks + 1 days.
Story added: 2010-12-05

This was our second pregnancy, but our first had ended in a missed miscarriage. From 5 weeks onwards, I would have episodes of spotting or bleeding (bright pink or red blood) about once a week. I had a few ultrasounds starting at about 6 weeks or so, and everything looked fine with our baby although they all showed a sub-chorionic haemorrhage. I would be put on bed rest for a day or two until the bleeding would resolve, and then I was allowed to resume "normal" activities.

At 15 weeks + 1 day, I woke up early in the morning to the feeling of gushing between my legs. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom. I left a trail of blood behind me. An ultrasound showed that I had a low-lying placenta, but not placenta previa. They assumed this was what was causing the haemorrhage, and at this point, I was put on bed rest.

I was a compliant patient when it came to bed rest, but at 20 weeks + 1 day, I started getting contractions. At the time, I did not realize they were contractions because I was only feeling them in the area of my appendix, and I thought that maybe my appendix was infected. Lying down on my left side and drinking lots of water did not seem to stop them. After speaking with my doctor on the phone, who assured me that the pains were too far apart and not long enough to be concerning, I decided that we should still go to the ER just to get checked out. I was sitting on the toilet having one last pee when a huge gush of rusty-coloured fluid was released. As soon as that happened, the pains I was having ceased.

At the hospital, my husband and I were told that what had happened was called PPROM. Words I had never heard before, but that we became intimately knowledgeable about. We were told that I would likely go into labour within 24 hours, or at least within a week. I was given two doses of IV antibiotics, but no medication to hold off labour. Obviously, our baby would not be viable. They kept me overnight for observation, but in the morning they discharged me to home. They would not keep me in the hospital because I had not yet reached the "magic" viability date of 24 weeks. I was a total wreck that night. They gave me a sleeping pill, but it had no effect. I was up most of the night, in tears. I remember a lot of "why us, why our baby?"

In the morning before the discharged me to home, we went and had a consult with a perinatologist (high-risk specialist). It was at this meeting that we were told that some women hang on to pregnancy for weeks or months after a PPROM. I had no idea. I was told I liked PPROM'ed due to all the bleeding I had in my pregnancy, which weakens the amniotic sac. I was told I had zero amniotic fluid left. Then we were told the outcomes. In short, we were told that we had a "less than 10% chance" of having a live, relatively healthy baby out of the pregnancy. They listed all sorts of scariness, such as: infection, pulmonary hypoplasia, club feet and hands, deformities to the head, brain damage and mental retardation, cerebral palsy, blindness, deafness, etc. And then we were given one of two options: (1) terminate this pregnancy by inducing labour now or soon-ish; or (2) waiting and seeing what the future brings, which will likely bring either death or significant disability.

After much discussion and soul-searching, we decided to wait and see. Terminating the pregnancy is not something that either of could have lived with. We felt that we should give our baby a chance, and if they do not make it, then at least we tried the best that we could. So I went home on strict bed rest, just getting up to go to the bathroom and shower once every two days.

Exactly six weeks post- PPROM (after countless OBGYN visits, ultrasounds, non-stress tests, kick counts, temperature and pulse takings, fetal echocardiograms, trips to L&D that turned out to be false alarms, etc.) , our daughter was born at 26 weeks + 1 day. My labour was very quick (less than 3 hours) and she weighed 1 pound, 11 ounces. It turns out that my placenta was infected, but I was able to get the steroid shots in the week prior to her being born.

With her birth, our NICU journey commenced, and it lasted 120 days. I could fill volumes with the details. To make a very long story short, we dealt with intubations, extubations, CPAP, intracranial bleeds, a bowel perforation secondary to indomethacin, prolonged TPN, stage 5 retinopathy of prematurity (and 6 resulting eye surgeries), chronic lung disease, and coming home on low-flow oxygen. Being a NICU parent was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. But our daughter did not have pulmonary hypoplasia, which was our major concern with my not having any amniotic fluid left.

Our daughter just turned one year old last month, in November 2010. She is slightly delayed developmentally (gross motor skills especially), but is otherwise quite normal. She wears glasses and is classified as having "low vision" but she can see fairly well so long as objects are close to her face. She still has chronic lung disease, but she has been off oxygen since June and so long as we keep her cold-and-flu-free, it does not affect her daily life. She babbles away constantly, loves to eat and play. Her very best friend are our dogs, and she loves toys that flash lights or sing a song. She smiles easily and rarely cries. She is a true miracle.

We always wanted more than one child. I am not sure whether we have the courage to try again. Some days I think we just had bad luck, and the next time will be better. Some days I realize that the outcome could have been so much more devastating... Unfortunately, no one can tell us whether our next pregnancy would be normal or not, so for now we wait and see if we are willing to potentially put ourselves and another baby through what was a very difficult experience for the three of us. One thing I do know is that I do not regret – not for one single second – our decision not to terminate our pregnancy. Our daughter is so sweet and loving – she brings laughter and love into our home.

Since this website brought me so much comfort in the days following our PPROM, I wanted to share our story. If you are going through this right now, I am so sorry. But my advice to you is this: fight hard, you never know what the future may bring. If we listened to the doom and gloom that the doctors painted for us, we may never have gotten to share the past 13 months with our little bundle of joy.