By Lisa, Baton Rouge, LA USAMargaret Evelyn
PROM at 22 weeks + 5 days. Delivery at 27 weeks + 6 days.
Story added: 2006-10-02
born 8/1/05 27w 6d
apgars 5, 7
2lbs, 15oz
14.75 inches
It was Sunday night, June 27, 2005, and I had just returned from a family reunion and a surprise baby shower. I was 22w 5d pregnant... barely showing. My first pregnancy. My 20w ultrasound had shown the baby and her surroundings were perfect. No hint of what was to come.
During my sleep that night a huge gush of fluid woke me up. I went to the bathroom hoping I had just wet the bed. I sat on the toilet and used the bathroom and after I had finished the flow of fluid kept on going. My blood ran cold. I knew something was wrong. I woke my husband, told him that we needed to go to the hospital, and got dressed.
Once I was examined in the hospital, the doctor on call told me that I had had a 'gross rupture' of my membranes and that I would go into labor soon. He also said that at the baby's gestational age (now 22w 6d), the pregnancy was considered non-viable. I'll never forget those words as long as I live. Needless to say, I broke down right there on the bed. My husband was holding my hands and comforting me but he looked pale and suddenly ten years older.
I was admitted into the hospital and started on IV antibiotics that night. They scheduled an ultrasound for me the next morning warning me that I probably wouldn't make it that long.
But I did. I had no contractions, no cramping, no bleeding. When I went for the ultrasound, the doctors confirmed that all my fluid was gone. My AFI was 0. I didn't want to look when they were giving me the ultrasound. I didn't want to become more attached to this baby that didn't have a chance. The one time I peeked, it was because the doctor said, 'look, she is moving her mouth!' What I saw looked like my baby gasping for air. I was crushed. I had failed my baby.
After my first 24 hours, I began to think more clearly. My goal was to make it to 24w, when the pregnancy was considered 'viable'. Still the prognosis was very grim. I was told it was very rare to go a week with no amniotic fluid.
That second night, I was visited by a neonatologist, Kimberly, who gave me very grim statistics about a baby born at the gestational age of my baby. She was hoping that I was wrong about her GA but I had been trying to get pregnant for months by using ovulation kits, charting, etc. I knew exactly when I got pregnant.
Against all odds, I made it through the first week. All the doctors who made rounds on me were visibly impressed. At my second weekly ultrasound, my AFI was 1. I was not reaccumulating fluid. But I had made it far enough to receive steroid injections to develop the baby's lungs. The doctors told me that it would take two days after my last injection for them to reach full effect. That was my next goal.
That day came and went. Everyday was a struggle. Now that the pregnancy was considered viable, my biggest threat was the risk of uterine infection. A gross rupture is like a big open wound and if I became infected not only could I die but also the baby's prognosis would be even more grim.
I got 10 days of IV antibiotics and then developed an allergic reaction to them after my course. I had the worst rash I had ever seen all over my body. The doctors were pushing me to take steroids to reduce the rash but I knew that a side effect of steroids is increased risk of infection. I wasn't going to risk my baby for my comfort. We had made it that far against all odds.
And we continued to beat the odds making it an incredible 5 weeks after my rupture. Each week my AFI was up and down. The highest it ever got was 2. I was leaking continually.
One day the doctor who admitted me (who told me we had no chance) made rounds on me. He walked in, told me that he heard I was still there and was amazed. At that point I was about 27 weeks along. He said that what I had done was take my baby from having no chance to having a fair chance if born and he was impressed.
My new goal was 28 weeks. By then I knew that the chance of my baby living, barring no infection, was around 90%. I was 1 hour and 22 minutes short of that goal.
August 1. I had finally started to let my friends visit me in the hospital and that day a good friend of mine was visiting for the first time. At about half way through her visit I started getting crampy and was wishing she would leave so I could take a nap. I think I knew something was wrong. I had noticed that the amount of fluid I was leaking had decreased some. And after she left when I went to the bathroom, I noticed some green (sorry, TMI) on my toilet paper. For the second time in my pregnancy, my blood ran cold. I called the nurse on duty that day, Tina, and told her about the green. She took my temp (normal) and told me to use the bathroom again in a few minutes and save anything that I found unusual. The next time I went to the bathroom, I was leaking a dark olive green (again, sorry!). And I called her again.
When I showed her my TP, she took my temp (now 99.1). I asked her if I was infected and she said that it was time for me to have my baby. I called my husband and asked him to come to the hospital. I could hear the fear in his voice.
By the time I made it to labor and delivery my temp had jumped to 101 and I was having contractions (brought on by infection) about 2-3 minutes apart. I was feeling bad, really bad. L&D started an IV and pumped me full of two bags of antibiotics and then a liter of fluids before they started to induce me (my baby was head down). But even before they induced me, I was 100% effaced and dilated 4 centimeters. About 30 minutes into the pitocin drip, I started to feel pressure. By this time my fever was 102.5- it had only been 4 hours since seeing the first hint of infection.
At 10:38pm, my daughter was born at 27w 6d weighing 2 pounds 15 ounces. She cried the tiniest little cry in the delivery room and I was happy to hear her and to know that she was bigger than the ultrasound estimate. Luckily, even though my uterus was severely infected, my daughter's blood was not.
Our ride in the NICU was mostly uneventful but very long- 96 days. I brought her home on Nov 4, 2005. She is doing very, very well and is the love of my life.
I hope that all of you currently suffering with PPROM or amniotic issues can gain some hope from my story. In the hospital, I was so afraid to hope. Tonight, my heart is with you. I pray for the absolute best for you all and your little ones.
Miracles happen. They can happen to you.