Premature birth (also known as preterm birth, or premie) is defined medically as childbirth occurring earlier than 37 completed weeks of gestation. Most pregnancies last about 40 w...
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I have found it very healing to share the story of my son's birth... I helped me work through my emotions of the whole experience.. I thought I would post it here.
If you have your child's birth story please share it. Lisa Some things just don’t go as planned…. I found out that I was pregnant in March of 2003. It was an unplanned pregnancy (I was on the pill); I was surprised, but excited at the same time. When I was 10 weeks pregnant I started bleeding and I assumed that I was going to miscarry. I went to the doctor and he performed an ultrasound and said that he didn’t see a heartbeat. He sent me to the hospital before performing the D&C “just to be sureâ€. Well it ends up that I was only 6 weeks pregnant and everything was ok with the remaining baby (I was carrying twins, but one had miscarried). Everything progressed normally until I was 25 weeks pregnant. It was a Thursday night in August. It was hot and I was very uncomfortable, but that is pretty typical for a pregnant lady in the heat of a Wisconsin summer. I was not feeling well but thought it was the heat. I went to bed and tried to rest, but I kept having pains in my back. I also had pains in my stomach, but they would come and go so at first I thought nothing of it. I was only 6 months pregnant, so it was probably those Braxton-Hicks Contractions like I had had the week before. I went to bed and thought no more of it…I need to sleep because I had to work the next day. Well at 3:00 am I woke up with a pain in my back and decided that I was going to go for a walk. That is what I had done the week before to get rid of those false labor pains…Well I got about a mile from home and the pain was getting worse. If I turned around and went home I wouldn’t have a way to the hospital (my car had broken down the week before). So I decided to keep walking…It was about another mile to the Hospital and I had walked that far before. (I had been exercising throughout my pregnancy) When I arrived at the hospital they rushed me to the OB floor and I went to the bathroom to change into a gown, and I noticed that there was a pink stain in my underwear…The nurse checked me and she frantically called the doctor…Apparently she saw my son’s foot but didn’t tell me… The doctor on call checked me and I heard him say that I was at 8 ½ cm. From that point on it is all a flurry of activity… I met so many new doctors and nurses over the next two hours…I met an OB and an anesthesiologist and a neonatal nurse practitioner. Another doctor came in and checked me and now I was at 9 ½ cm. My Mom finally arrived at the hospital, and they brought her to my room. That is when they told me that I had to deliver my baby today to save him. I remember trying to argue with them, but my mom told me everything was going to be ok and I had no choice but to believe her. Then they whisked my mom away and had her put on scrubs. She was not allowed to come into the delivery room but was going to wait in the hall. The next thing I remember is being wheeled down to the delivery room, I asked if my mom could stay with the baby, and was told that he would be far to critical and that was not an option. Once I got to the delivery room I don’t remember a thing (I was totally knocked out for my delivery.) The next thing I remember is waking up in a room with no windows and a nurse that I never met before telling me that I had a son…. Honestly, I was shocked I thought it was a dream… I didn’t believe her. I finally realized it was true when my boyfriend said that he lost our bet (I knew it was a boy all along and he said that it was a girl). The Nurse informed me that my son was in the NICU and that she didn’t know anything else yet. (I thought that my son had died and no one was telling me). I was wheeled back to the room I was in earlier in the morning. I asked about my baby and all the nurses wouldn’t answer my questions. After an hour or so a NNP (Neonatal Nurse Practitioner) came to tell me about my son. He weighed 1 pound 13 ounces and was 14 ¼ inches long. She told me that he was very little and was on a ventilator. She said that his chances for survival were not good, but it was a waiting game. She said that sometimes the “little ones†surprise us. I asked if I could visit my baby and she said that they were “working on him†and she would let me know when I could see him. I waited as patiently as I could and at about noon I received the call that I could see my baby. I was in no way prepared for what I was about to see. I was wheeled down the hall to the NICU and was instructed to wash my hands (a ritual that would soon become all too familiar). I was then wheeled to an isolette that was behind some curtains. I was told that I should only whisper, as loud voices would harm my son and the other babies in the nursery (apparently all the alarms didn’t bother them?). All I could see was a bunch of tubes and wires. When I looked a little closer I saw him. It was my son so small and so helpless. All I could do was cry. He didn’t look like any baby I had ever seen. He was bony and covered in a lot of hair. I was told that his eyes were still sealed shut, and it would be weeks before he opened them. I remember crying and asking if I could touch him and was told that he was too critical and it would be best if I didn’t touch him yet. One of the nurses took a picture of him and gave it to me to take with me to my room. I was told that I could come to visit him at any time. A doctor told me that my son’s chances didn’t look good. He said that he was “awfully tinyâ€. I didn’t know what to think. I was totally overwhelmed by the NICU. All the sights and sounds. It was a very scary place for me at that time. (Little did I know that it would become my second home over the next two months) I couldn’t take it any more and I went back to my room. I spent the next several hours alone in my room. I remember crying at the thought of everything that had transpired in the last few hours. I remember every person that came into check on me offering me condolences and looking like someone had died. I remember being angry that they were mourning the loss of someone who was very much alive. I received a call from the NICU a short while later asking if I had named my son yet. I hadn’t thought of any names for boys yet. I told them I would call them back in a little while. I had never named someone before, so I needed to think. A short while later after I discussed names with my boyfriend we decided that Jared was a good name. My boyfriend had heard the name while watching a TV Program and I thought it was a good name. We decided that the middle name of Michael went well with that. So I called the NICU and told them that my son had a name and told them that Jared was what they should call him. I remember the exact moment that I decided that my son was going to show them all wrong. A kind nurse came into my room to talk to me and give me some pain medication. She said that she had seen a lot of sick babies born, some early and some on time. She told me that some had done well and others had not. She said that babies can sense how the people around them feel about things. She said that the attitude the family takes helps immensely. That was the moment I decided that my son was going to show them all wrong. He was going to be a success story and that was that. Over the next few days I spent every minute I could down in the NICU. I finally was able to look past all the tubes and wires. All I saw was my beautiful baby. I didn’t see the machines, or the ventilator. I was amazed that this tiny person had come from inside my body. It was only a few days ago that he was kicking me in the ribs. (That had been one of Jared’s favorite pastimes when I was pregnant). Now he was kicking inside his isolette. I will never forget the first time I changed his diaper. I was so afraid that I would break him. He was so small; he fit in the palm of my hand. His diapers were so small, but on him they looked so big. He drowned in them. His body was small and floppy, like there was nothing holding him together. There were so many tubes and wires to contend with that I had no idea how I was going to change him through the tiny arm holes in his isolette with all that extra stuff in there. I felt totally out of my element. I didn’t know how I was going to care for such a tiny baby. Thank God for all the nurses in that NICU. I never would have made it without them. They walked me through every task step by step. They were so understanding. Then came the day that I was dreading; I was to be discharged. I didn’t want to leave the hospital without my baby. This was not what I had envisioned. I was planning on having a “normal†delivery and being able to take my baby with me. So I went home. A few hours later I came right back to visit my baby. I scrubbed in and went to sit by his isolette. I sat there for hour and hours just watching him breathe. It was amazing. I was allowed to touch him once every 4 hours when his diaper was changed. I made sure I was there for every diaper change. I didn’t want to miss a chance to touch my baby. I was waiting for the day when I could hold him and feared it would never come. I finally got to hold him when he was 10 days old. I remember being terrified. I know that I was crying the whole time I held him. They were not tears of sadness, but tears of joy. I remember him being all wrapped in his blankets and feeling so light when they placed him in my arms. He was more tubes and wires then anything else (he was still on the vent). The nurse told me that I wouldn’t be able to hold him for too long. She was worried that he would get cold. She said not to expect more than 5 or 10 minutes. Well, 10 turned to 15 then 20 and before I knew it an hour had passed and I said that we should put my son back in his isolette (my arms were getting tired, and Jared was actually getting heavy). Over the next few weeks Jared had many bumps in the road on his journey through the NICU. He needed several blood transfusions to treat his anemia. He had to have a swallow study due to a hole in his esophagus. He had to have a chest tube placed in his lung due to a hole that had developed. He had weekly ultrasounds to check the status of his IVH. I learned about more medical procedures then I care to mention. It is still hard for me to recall every detail of the 67 days we spent in the NICU. I say we because I never missed one day. I was there everyday. I look back now and don’t know how I did it. I remember going back to work after Jared was 2 weeks old. I would go to the hospital before work and after. I wouldn’t come home until after 11:00pm and I know that I was at the NICU before 6:00am. On the weekends I would spend 12 – 14 hours there in a row. I didn’t want to miss anything. I remember being there the day my son opened his eyes for the first time. I think he was 2 ½ weeks old. I had come in later than usual (I let myself sleep in that morning). He was laying in his isolette doing nothing (his usual routine). All of a sudden I saw his eyes “pop†open. I literally fell off my chair. I was so excited. That was when I knew everything was going to be okay. Then there was the day that Jared was “doing so well†that the doctor decided that it was time for Jared to have his vent out. I don’t know who was more nervous his nurse or me. He was still so tiny and was still months before his due date. I didn’t think he was ready, but if things didn’t go well I was told that he could always go back on the ventilator. I requested that I be there for the procedure and so the nurse waited for me. I arrived and then before I knew it; it was time. I still remember the first time I saw my son’s whole face. He was 3 ½ weeks old. Boy was he cute. I had never seen something so beautiful in my whole life. Up until that moment his face was covered with so much tape to hold his vent tube that I had never seen the whole thing before. It was better then I had imagined. He was on CPAP for three days before he decided that he was going to remove it. Then he had a tube that went under his nose to supply him with supplemental oxygen. I was told that he would have that for as long as he needed it. Little did I know what a battle that would be… Jared was not able to “eat†for the first 4 weeks of his life. As I mentioned earlier he had a hole in his esophagus. It appears that it was either caused at birth in the rush to intubate him, or by Jared pulling on his tube. For the first 4 weeks of life Jared received all his nutrition through his IVs; but that was about to change. A new doctor was on rotation now and he wanted Jared to “bulk upâ€. Jared had lost 7 ounces since birth (not a big deal for a “normal†baby, but a very big deal when you weigh less then 2 pounds). So, Jared had his first feeding. It was 1cc of formula. That was slowly increased and before I knew it he was “eating†an ounce at a time. All of his feedings were given via a gavage tube. Jared was too young to “suck, swallow & breatheâ€. I was told that most babies don’t do that until they are 36 weeks gestation and Jared was only a 29 weeker, so he “wouldn’t be ready†for weeks. Before I knew it he was back at his birth weight. He started to look like a real baby; he was less tubes and wires, more baby. I was really a mom, the mom of a 25 weeker who was doing well and proving them all wrong. I was absolutely amazed as I watched my son grow right before my eyes. It was truly amazing. The doctor said he was weeks ahead of schedule in many areas. His brain bleeds were shrinking, so the weekly ultrasound was cut back to every other week. The doctor also said that he was going to try cutting back Jared’s oxygen (Jared had other ideas about that). The doctor thought that Jared was “almost ready†for the bottle. Over the next week or so Jared would suck on a pacifier while he “ateâ€. He was really getting the hang of it and would be “ready for the bottle in no timeâ€. Jared had his first bottle a week later and did great. He had a few Bradys, but for the most part did great. He was doing so much better than expected. Before I knew it he weighed 2 pounds and then 3 pounds. The days all seemed to go by so fast. I would go to work and then to the hospital, and home and back to the hospital. Then there was talk of him coming home; weeks before his due date. I realized that I was totally unprepared for that thought. The whole time he was there the nurses kept telling me that he would come home “around his due dateâ€. But it was early October and there was talk of him coming home in just a few weeks. I was not ready; I was comfortable in my routine. Jared was holding his body temp well and it was time to move from his “bachelor pad†to an open crib. It was so weird seeing him with out glass between us. I could touch him whenever I wanted; it was weird. Jared was still on oxygen at 2%. All attempts to wean him from the oxygen had failed. Perhaps Jared wouldn’t be coming home as soon as I thought. I was not at all comfortable with the thought that I might be bringing him home with oxygen. I had decided that if he needed that he would have to stay at the hospital. Jared was moved to the back room. The back room was for “feeder growers†and then I realized he was even closer to coming home then I thought. The only thing really holding him back was the fact that he still needed oxygen. He was gaining weight well. He weighed over 4 pounds. Then one morning I came in and His oxygen was gone. He had been weaned and was doing well in the few hours I was gone. I was shocked, elated and totally petrified at the same time. My son was going to come home very soon. I could hardly wait. I planned my “room in†and everything went well. Jared was switched from the Neonatalogist’s service to his general physician. And there was talk of him coming home on my birthday. What a gift that would be. Jared’s doctor then left for his trip to Alaska, and we saw another doctor from his clinic. That doctor said that we would have to wait a few extra days for discharge. I will admit that I was disappointed, but was excited that Jared was coming home, so a few extra days wouldn’t matter that much. And then the day was here. It was time for Jared to come home. A day that both terrified me and made me happy at the same time. I woke early that day and went about my usual business. I drove to the hospital realizing that it was the last time I would be going to “visit†my son. As I scrubbed in I was so happy and sad at the same time. All that I had known was coming to an end and a new chapter was about to begin. I walked back to his bassinette and the therapist was feeding him. She asked me if I wanted to feed him, and I let her finish. I was going to have him for the rest of his life all the staff were only going to see him for a few more hours. I had never thought about how hard it must be to see all those little babies “grow up†and go home. I made sure Jared had some time with each of them before discharge. I met with the doctor and then went home to shower. My mom came and picked me up to take me to bring my son home. I feared that I would be far too nervous to drive. We had to wait for the attending doctor to sign Jared’s release papers. It felt like forever. Then we said our final goodbyes to all of Jared’s doctors and nurses. I don’t know who cried more me, or them. They had become such an important part of my life over the past 67 days (there number was in my speed dial). I walked through the NICU doors for the last time. This time I had my son; with me and did that ever feel weird. It was the first time my son and I would make an appearance together outside of the NICU… At that moment I realized that my life would never be the same. I was from that moment on solely responsible for Jared. Jared and I walked through the doors to our home and I will never forget it. He was sleeping and I snapped pictures. My mom left and I was alone with my baby and life couldn’t be better. I look back now and recognize that it is certainly not the birth experience that I had envisioned, but I certainly wouldn’t trade the experience for anything. Jared is now a happy and healthy 3 3/4 year old.. He will be starting K4 this year as a peer model to the other kids in his class. Posted on 06/19/07, 11:06 am |
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My story is a little less inspirational. When I became pregnant I was 17 going to a catholic school. I used to be the model of the catholic school girl. The boy I was with had a different plan in mind. I had to quit softball, being a eucharistic minister, gave up my scholarships. early in my pregnancy I started bleeding. I was about 3 months along. I freaked out when I saw the blood and was rushed by my mother to the emergency room. Before the bleeding, I had pictures of my son, I heard his heartbeat, and I felt connected like no other experience in my life. The doctors performed an ultrasound. I asked the lady who performed it what was happening and what was wrong. She wasn't allowed to show me him, or let me hear his heartbeart. her job was to take pictures and give them to the radiologist. The doctor came in and explained to me that I was in the middle of having a placenta previa. I wasn't quite there yet though. He told me that there was nothing they could do, and that they would have to wait and see what would happen. I stopped bleeding and instead of blood, there was a weird discharge. I had a pap smear done to find that I had a bacterial infection. I was treated and released. The boy i was with convinced me that my family was evil and that I have to move to Kentucky or else. Once I was in KY they ended up calling my bleeding a placenta previa and i was dialated 1 1/2, and put me on bedrest for a week to see if anything changed. Nothing changed, and I was allowed to work. the sperm donor didn't have a job, and so to support the three of us I had to work. I started working but the money wasn't enough, so I decided I needed another job. I started at target, and you couldn't tell i was pregnant so i never mentioned it. Two days before my son was born, his sperm donor picked me up with my stomach over his shoulder and was "messing around" when he put me down, it wasn't a pretty site. I had fallen off of his shoulders onto the concrete. I was ok but I was scared for my baby. I find out later that night he did it on purpose so that I might break something to show that he was in control.
The next day was my first day at target. i started around 5 am and with immediate pains. i didn't think anything of it, because I really needed the money and i didn't want to go home because of "cramping" by the end of the day i was so anxious to get home I did anything to move faster. I lifted boxes that weighed at least 20 pounds and I never asked for help. I didn't want anyone to know I was pregnant for fear of losing my job. When I got home, I had a weird milky discharge, with continued pains and was forced to go to the hospital. Once there I realized how serious my situation was. I had bruises all along the side where i was dropped the night before and my pains kept getting worse. By that time I was still dilated but they connected the pain to real contractions. I was freaked. Since I was only 27 weeks 4 days (they were able to measure the exact day from all of the ultrasounds I had before) they kept me overnight on bedrest to make sure we were ok. in the morning I had only 2 contractions over night and my chances of going home kept getting higher, because the baby was ok and i was ok. When they doubled checked to see how dilated I was, it went downhill from there. They told me that I was dilated 4 cm and that I needed to be transported to a bigger hospital that had a unit for premature babies. I freaked out. I wanted to take out the catheder and the iv and run. The night before I was given a shot so that my babys lungs would be developed more if he came early. I was also put on magnesium sulfate to stop my contractions. In the time that it took to get to the other hospital I was having contractions every 2 min. I had called my mom the night before, and she rushed with my grandma in a 5 hour drive to see me. Just as my family arrived not even an hour later I was 6 cm dilated and the doctor could feel him kicking. the doctor told me that I was going to have an emergency c-section. I wasn't allowed to be put under because it might threaten my son's life, so I had an epidural. I was so scared. the sperm donor left for as soon as he heard our son was coming early. i was in the hospital room alone and scared of what was going to happen. my mind was so messed up i didn't realize that my baby might actually survive. The epidural was scary because if I wasn't completely still then my baby would be closer and closer to death. Once it was done the doctor pinced me to see if I could feel it and I was so scared I didn't know. He saw that i was frightened and showed me a pair of tong like things. he told me he was squeezing my skin. i couldn't see anything because of the drape so they moved on. the sperm donor was actually nice during the surgery. he was there to hold my hand and cry with me. when he came out all i heard was this little yelp. I couldn't believe that the little boy kicking inside me was here. the doctors brought him over for a moment and let me kiss him on the head before he was put on a ventilator. After surgery the sperm donor bragged about how he was the one who got to see him first and how he was the one that got to touch him first. My mother tried to keep the peace the best she could, but sperm donor didn't want her to see him. I didn't find this out till after I was able to walk. About 2 hours after surgery the doctor asked me if I wanted to see him. Of course I wanted to see him. he was my child. I tried to sit up and I fell back in pain. It was the most excruciating pain i had ever experienced in my life. The nurses told me that it could wait, but I was determined to see my son. I mustered up the strength to sit up, but standing was the worst pain ever. When I was first wheeled into the NICU I was in complete shock. If you have never been in the NICU before, and you enter for the first time, you see all the little miracles in tiny isolettes. Each one had something different about them. My baby was of course on the other side of the room. When I walked over to his bedside all I could do was cry. I wanted to take all of the wires off of him and hold him. I wanted to see my baby. He had jaundice so he was under the light with little sunglasses on. I had to make light of a horrible situation, so I told myself he was getting a tan to help his complexion lol. I just sat there and watched him. the nurse came over and asked me if I needed anything. I think I could have made a test with all the questions I asked her. The first thing I remember asking was if he was going to be ok. She told me that he was doing well, and that if he fought he would make it. The second thing I asked is when I could take him home. She told me around my due date. I did not want to hear that I would have to spend the next 3 months in the NICU watching my baby. I only had to wait 2 months and 4 days, but everyday he was in there was another day of hell. I had to go home after 5 days, but I didn't want to leave. It was an hour drive home and an hour back, so I asked if there was any way I could stay somewhere. That is when I was introduced to the Ronald McDonald house. the people who created that place are angels. it wasn't a house, it was just a floor of the hospital that I could stay in, eat, sleep, use the computer, take a shower, do laundry. everything at home i could do on that floor. I felt like I was home. I knew where I was sleeping at night, and it wasn't a struggle to find food. the place i was staying at, half the time I didn't know where i was going to sleep, or if i would have any dinner. i was afraid of getting kicked out because i didn't have that much money, and with 10 people living in a 3 bedroom house, how could there be enough food for all of us. i finally had to go home because sperm donor was angered that I got to hold my baby before him. I didn't want to cause a scene at the hospital, so I argued with him the whole way home. He kept saying that it was my fault he came early and that if i just listened to him I wouldn't be in this situation. over the next two months I saw less and less of my child. i had to go back to work, and we didn't have enough money to drive an hour there and an hour back, plus sperm donor was "working" so he was tired. I wasn't allowed to go by myself, and if I did he would either hurt me or make sure I never saw my son again. My son had to have heart surgery. he was scheduled early in the morning but we couldn't make it till later because sperm donor didn't want to wake up that early just to drive and sit. I was heartbroken. My son was having heart surgery and I couldn't be by his side because sperm donor was tired. Thankfully the surgery was delayed and we were able to make it on time. he was put back on the ventilator for a couple days to regain his strength, and then put back on the oxygen canula. he was doing so well! he was only at 1 percent ovxygen with a maximum of 35 flow. I was excited because every step he made, was every step closer to going home. but with every two steps forward there was always a step back. he kept spitting up all of his food through the tube and the acid reflux medication was at the highest it could go. they had to stick the feeding tube in his small intestine. I think its called a jujunum, something like that. His temperature was also a concern because he was kept at a higher degree than most of the babies his age. when i met parents that were being moved to the big boys room that weren't there as long as i was, i was outraged. i didn't understand why my baby was the one struggling while everyone elses baby was able to continue onward. The same day the baby was moved into the big room was the same day I saw a baby come in and never go home. I wasn't allowed to know the details, all I knew was that the baby didn't make it past surgery. at that moment i realized how pathetic i was being because my baby wasn't like everyone else. I was lucky that my baby had survived. He kept gaining weight, but the feeding was always an issue. I was used to hearing about how much he ate through the tube and how much he weighed every morning. since i wasn't able to be by his side all the time I called the NICU 5 times a day at least. the sperm donor didn't like that i was always the one calling, and that he couldn't call to check on him when he knew that all he had to do was pick up the phone. one night my son wasn't doing very well and i was concerned that it was going to be another 2 steps back. I went in as soon as I could, and by that time things had turned around and he was in a real big boy crib, and the big boy room. I went in the room where it was 2 babies per nurse like usual, and my baby wasn't there. I started freaking out until they told me he was in the big boy room. I was so excited I think I jumped 5 ft in the air. I was actually able to hold him as long as i wanted and see him without having to look through the glass. within the next week he was eating from a bottle and was taken off of oxygen. 2 steps forward and one step back. for the first time he had to be put on the cpap because his stats kept dropping and the air cannula wasn't working. I don't ever want to see that machine again. It looks so uncomfortable and like his nose was being shoved into his brain. luckily he was only on the machine for 2 days before he was taken off completely. once he started taking bottles i realized he was going to come home! I had everything ready for him at home. by this time we were able to afford an apartment. it was small but it was a better place than before. a couple days before he came home one nurse told me another week, while another told me the next day. we first had to stay 2 nights in the hospital to make sure we were ok with taking him home. im so glad we stayed. the first night I don't think I got much if any sleep at all. i was so scared he was going to die in his sleep. their were still machines on him but that was because of his sleep apnea. Both nights he never set off the alarm, but the day he was suppose to go home sperm donor and i got into another fight about when he comes home im leaving back to ohio. i tried to convince him otherwise but finally decided that i really needed to get away from him. i talked to the doctors about a 5 hour car trip, so what they did was put him in the carseat for 6 hours to see how he would handle it. he was completely fine. i was actually able to go to the only place i could really call home ohio. somehow sperm donor convinced me to stay. before we left the doctors told us to keep him inside and to keep smoke as far away as possible and to always wash your hands before you touch him, and to keep him away from crowded areas. he was so used to a semi clean environment in the NICU, the world was a whole different experience. The hour ride home was intense, because i was trying to make sure he was ok, while trying to keep sperm donor happy. Since he had sleep apnea, he was forced to come home on a monitor for his lungs and heart. if he quit breathing for more than 20 sec or if his heartrate dropped below 80 the machine would go off. i was thankful, but it also made me worry if it was working. its not easy being a first time mother of a tiny preemie. i left the sperm donor a week later because he took my son into a fast food restaraunt to show him off. my son still has problems today, but nothing compared to when he was in the hospital. he currently sees 10 different doctors and therapists to help him grow. he was born 2 lbs 9 oz, and now he weighs 22 pounds. its amazing how far he has come in 10 months, and its amazing what doctors can do. i will always be thankful for all the people who took care of my baby, especially charlotte who helped me leave sperm donor. thank you to everyone who has every taken care of a preemie in the NICU. I consider the nurses to be my sons guardian angels. 
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My son is a 32 weeker. After many years of trying to have a baby my husband and I had in vitro. After our first failed IVF I didn’t want to try again. On St. Patty’s Day 2006 I had a frozen transfer and 3 embryos were implanted. Thirteen days later I found out I was pregnant. Two weeks later I found out there was only one sac. At first my husband was a little upset but then he was fine with it being only one baby. I thought I would love being pregnant. I thought it would be the best. I actually didn’t like it. I think it had to do with the stress of making sure everything was okay. I was not discharged from the IVF doctors until I was almost 3 ½ months pregnant because of still being on all of the medications.
I actually couldn’t believe that I was actually pregnant. After some many years it had finally happened. I figured once the baby started to move things would be different. At first I would only feel the baby move when he was in the breech position. He was like that for a long time. Then one day he switched and I couldn’t feel him move. That was when I found out that the placenta was up front which was acting as a pillow and blocking his movement. However, I was told that everyday at the same time I was to lay down and if I did not feel the baby move 10 times in 2 hours I needed to go to the hospital. Thank God that the hospital is only 10 minutes from our house because we were there several times. I was due on December 5th. The last time I felt the baby move was on October 7th, just hours before my baby shower. On October 8th I went back to the hospital because I hadn’t felt the baby move. I had a stress test and ultrasound and every thing was good. I was having pains in my back but no contractions were registering. Later that day I has having pains in my back which were every 20 – 25 minutes apart. The next day was Monday and I still had the pains. My doctor told me it was Braxton Hicks. (Over the next 24 hours I had heard that too many times!!!). I went for my 32 week ultrasound and was told the baby weighed approximately 4 lbs. 3 oz. They sent me home telling me that if I was in that much pain I “might want to go over to the hospital and be examined.†I chose to go home since my husband had work that night. I went to bed and got up at midnight (when my husband left for work). I told him the pains in my back were gone but I had pain in my stomach. I told him I was okay and he went to work. At 2:00 a.m. I got up and my contractions were every 6 minutes. Some being closer but averaging every 6 minutes. At 4:00 a.m. I called the doctor and he told me to drink fluid. I did and nothing worked. If the fluid didn’t space them apart I should go to the hospital. By this time it was going on for 6:00 a.m. I decided to wait and just go to my scheduled doctor’s appointment at 9:00 a.m. I took public transportation to the hospital thinking it was just Braxton Hicks. When the doctor finally saw me and did an internal I was 1-2 cm. She told me to go over to the hospital. Less than an hour later I was at 6 cm. That was went reality hit and they told me that I was having a baby today. I was so scared. I husband was a mess. It took him a few hours to get to the hospital. In the meantime, I was given the shot to mature the baby’s lungs and blood was taken. About an hour later I was told that the baby needed to get out because I had an infection. About noon I was induced and given an epidural. I had never seen so many doctor’s in my life. There were so many people that took care of me and my son. I could not have asked for better care. Finally, my son was born at 6:18 p.m. weight 4 lbs. 5 oz., 17 ½ inches long. I got to see him for a few minutes. When I heard him cry I was so happy. I got to see him for one second and he was taken away. Funny, there were so many people with me when I was delivering and then he was born and it was only me, one doctor and a nurse. Everyone was left. The doctor and myself were laughing. My son was in the room next to me and I could hear him crying. My husband was with him. After he was born I was taken to recovery and no one could come back and see me. However, they gave me a phone and when I started call the people who were just at my shower they thought I was lying – LOL. I was told that because of the epidural I could not go to the NICU until I could walk. I finally got down there after 9:00 that night. I was amazed. He was so small, yet so big. He was really red. They told me he was breathing on his own and had been since he was born. He was given an antibiotic because of the infection I had. I spent as much time with him that I could. We were allowed to hold him the next day. He was really jaundiced so he spent a lot of time under the light. God truly blessed us first by giving us him (through the IVF) and then by him being so healthy with being early. Daniel spent 16 days in the NICU. He came home at 34 weeks and 2 days gestation. He had a little bit of a problem eating from a bottle but caught on fairly quickly. Little by little the monitors were removed. He had a few Brady’s and a few apnea’s but was able to come home without machines. Three days after Daniel came home I had a gallbladder attack and 2 days later had to have surgery. It was a little rough start but otherwise everything was fine. Nothing was as I had planned. I didn’t want him to have formula (only breast milk) but 2 weeks after surgery I had to give him formula because I wasn’t producing enough milk. I didn’t want him having a pacifier and he sucks a pacifier. I wanted to do things with him when I was out on maternity leave but instead he slept (he didn’t start waking up until after I went back to work – lucky me). But God had other plans. Daniel is almost 9 months old and is doing wonderful. He is now scooting around and I am thrilled. A milestone I thought would be much later given that he was premature. God works in mysterious ways. I thank God for my son every day.
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Even though all three of my boys were born pre-term. My first was the most tramatic and also the one I refer to as my miracle baby.
I didnt find out I was pregnant with Austin till I was almost 12 wks along. Part of that was because I continued to bleed a little during my first trimester and always around the same time that I was to start my cycle. But I think a little of it was also the fact that at 17 I didnt want to face the possability that I was pregnant. Once I had a positive test resuly at the Dr.s I didnt know what I was going to do. I was so scared that my parents would have a fit I didnt want to tell them. Once I did I relised how stupid I had been to even think that it would change anything about the way they loved me. In that respect God really did bless me. My parents were very supportive and there for me through everything. Anyway the rest of my first trimester went well and my second trimester went good until about 24 wks. I started having really bad pains in my stomic and told my Dr about it. After checking me out he told me it was just round ligament pain and that it would go away. So I pretty much ignored the pain that came and went. Then just before 27 weeks,on Thursday, I lost my mucus plug, and it was blood tinged. I decided to go to the hospital and make sure everything was ok. The Dr who saw me check and didnt find anything, said that I wasnt even having addiquite contractions, and that I was a stupid kid who didnt know what I was talking about, that I only wanted attention and that I was to stop waisting her time and go home. That was on a Friday night. I had contractions all day Sat. and they were about 8 min apart. I went back to the hospital sun morning where they checked me again, and yes I was having contractions. So they tested for an infection, didnt find anything, but they put me on antibiotics anyway and SENT ME HOME. That was abotu 5 or 6 pm. My mom called me from work that evening about 9 o'clock to check and when she heard that I was still in pain, she came and got me and took me to the hospital again. On the way there she was timing my contractions and they were about 2-3 min apart. When we got to the hospital I was in so much pain that I couldnt even walk. They took me up to the maturnaty floor and the same Dr that had seen me earlier that day was still there. He checked me, then immediatly excused himself and came back with the Attending. She checked me and said "Oh!! Shes 3cm and I feel FEET!!" I almost had a cow. My mom broke down and called my dad, who called everyone in my family. All I could think was that I wanted my older brother. That he needed to be there. So my mom called him too. In the mean time they had put my feet in the air, pumped me full of mag., and givin me shots of steroids. By this time it was midnight, they checked me againd and I was 7 cm and they told me they were not going to be able to stop my labor. They took me into the OR and Austin was born 15 min later. All I saw were big feet and a full head of hair. He squeeked once, which I though was a good thing. And then he was gone. I wouldnt see him again for almost 24 hrs. They had a hard time getting his umbilical line in. He was only 2lbs 7oz, he proved that even though he was small he had a lot of strangth in that tiny body of his. He was only intibated for 12 hrs after that he did well on the c-pap. He grew well, at 2wks old he had a PDA and had to have that repaired. He had a few NECK scares caused by the c-pap. Once he came off, he didnt have any more of those. He came off the c-pap around 6 wks old. He still had a few A's and B's but that didnt last long. He still had to hold his temp. and eat on his own. It took him three more weeks to do that. He finally came home the day after Thanksgiving. After that he did well, he was 18 lbs at a year old and trying to walk. He is now almost 8 and going into 3rd grade. He is my miracle and always will be.
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I have two kids my son my first born was pre-term...i got pregnant at 15 thats when i found out i had cervical cancer...my due date was july 26 2006...on May 25 2006 i had a doctors appointment everything was fine but by the time i got back to my house i knew something was wrong i was have really bad pain in my stomach i couldn't stand up it hurt so bad... my S/O rushed me to the hospital they admitted me and checked me to see if i was dilated i was only 31 wks...i was 3 cm they gave me magnesium sulfate to stop my labor they checked me again 10 mins later and i was 6cm they transported me to another hospital cause they didn't have a NICU it was a 30 min drive i got there and i was 8 cm my doctor came in and broke my water i had my son at 12:08 am on may 26 2006 he was 2 months to the day early....he was 3lbs 14oz 17 inches long..they showed him to me and then took him i didn't get to see my son untill the next day..and when i did i just cried blamed my self and couldn't even look at him with out balling i got to hold my son when he was 2 ks old and i'll never forget it my S/O was talking to him while i was holding him and he said open your eyes big man and look at your mama...and he did....i cried for like 3 hrs....my son was only in the NICU for 3 wks instead of the full 2months...he is now 18 months old and 35 lbs he very active and very smart he counts to 5 and even is begining to potty on the big potty i wouldn't change a thing he his wonderful
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