By Gwen Stockton, Nederland, Texas USAI found out I was pregnant in March of 2002 just after celebrating my 41st birthday. The first part of May, my ob sent me to Houston for an amnio due to my age. During the amnio I found out I was carrying a boy and everything looked good. 12 days later (Memorial Day) and exactly 13 weeks pregnant I felt like I was leaking. I told my other kids that I thought my water had broken and I drove myself to the hospital. I went straight to l&d and the nurse did the fern test and confirmed that yes, it looked like my water had broken. She said it was too early for them to do anything and she expected the ob to recommend termination. My Dr. arrived not long after and I asked him what my options were. He told me if he sent me to Houston, the only thing they could do was to terminate. He himself did not believe in termination and I asked him what I could do to try to carry the baby. He advised me to go home, lay on my left side and drink tons of fluids.
PROM at 13 weeks + 1 days. Delivery at 28 weeks.
Story added: 2005-06-27
Well, that is just what I did. My Dr. scheduled weekly ultrasounds, and did a lot of reading on the internet. He had me eat as much protein as I could stand and the only time I could get up was to go potty or to the hospital or his office. He was really wonderful and told the l&d staff that anytime I wanted to come in and check the babies heart to let me. The entire staff expected me to lose Dylan however I wasn't ready to give up and neither was he. Each time someone came in to check on me, I had them sign the inside cover of Dylan's baby book. I never did have any contractions until later in my pregnancy (when I got infected). My cervix remained closed and I never had any bleeding.
I continued to leak slow and steady amounts until my 22nd week when I lost all of the fluid I had re-accumulated (which wasn't very much). My Dr. put me in the local hospital where he could monitor me and start me on steriods. He had started trying to transfer me to Houston but I was still not considered viable. After I finished the steriods he sent me home however he put me back in so I would have priority in getting transferred. He actually managed to get me transferred when I was 23 weeks when I started running a low grade fever and they sent me to Houston by ambulance and parked my behind at l&d and expected I would have a baby by the end of the day. No baby, just a couple of really bad d-cells (drops in the baby's heartrate) but he finally leveled out and I finally ended up in the ante-partum section to wait for the big event. Each week I had ultrasounds to see how Dylan was growing and whenever possible, my kids drove up to see me. They made a sign for my door that read "Dylan's Mom lives here" and we settled in for the long haul. I was lucky enough to find this list and then I was blessed enough to have a PROM queen living in the area (Thanks Kathleen) who was pregnant with twins and went to her peri (who was my peri now) weekly so she came for visits.
When I was 27w, I started having lots of contractions, but when they checked (by speculum only) I was not showing any progress. I was running a temp of about 99 however my family's temp always runs low. If any of my kids temp ever ran 98.6, I knew they were sick, but I could not convince anyone in Houston of this. Finally they did a bloodtest which showed I had an infection so they tried to induce, however an infected uterus does not contract effectively and Dylan was tired and started having d-cels. They immediately decided to do an emergency c-section to save Dylan's life. My son (17 years at the time and the baby of our family) had arrived the night they started the induction and after spending the whole night coaching me throught my contractions realized he could not handle the thought of them cutting his mother open, so Dylan's soon-to-be nanny/godmother went into surgery with me. I never got to hear him cry at delivery and they put him on the vent immediately. I saw him for a brief second before they rushed him upstairs to the NICU. He was on the edge of 27-28 weeks, weighed 2lbs 14oz and was 14 inches long. He is built like his daddy (6'5" and 260 lbs) so I wasn't surprised at his size. Since I had an infection, I couldn't go in the NICU to see him and I thought my son PJ was going to go through the roof when they told him he had to have one of Dylan's parents in order to go in. Thank God that the nurses and Drs. from my floor contacted the NICU and arranged to have him and his older sister brought in to see him.
Dylan spent time on the vent, CPAP and eventually went home on O2. He had a real problem learning to eat and we spent every day rooing (kangaroo care) for about 12 hours a day. The only time he wasn't on my chest was when I was pumping next to his bed. He spent a total of 69 days in the NICU (I moved to the Ronald McDonald house). He remained on O2 until he was 18 months old. He has dysphgia (swallowing disorder) and a huge oral aversion. He also has unilateral hydronephrosis (kidney problem) but after a year of prophelactic antibiotics he seems to be doing ok) Like his kidney Dr says, if we have to potty train him after college so be it!! He still doesn't eat solid food but he is learning. No words yet, and maybe never. He is PDD and autistic however it is too soon to tell where he is on the spectrum.
All I know is that he is my son and as far as I am concerned he is perfect. My own little miracle.
I hope this story gives someone else the inspiration to hold on and wait it out. God bless all of you and everyone who worked so hard to bring Dylan into this world alive. I couldn't have made it with out any or you or my 6 other crazy kiddos!!