Friday, February 5, 2010


This time last year, Cody and I were walking around IKEA and I was getting my nails done, all the while feeling a little different. I had been feeling a little faint, and kept having "Braxton Hicks" contractions. I never thought twice about it.  
On February 5 of last year, I had my 28 week appointment (I was 27 weeks) with my OB. I was supposed to have my glucose testing and a shot of Rhogam. We walked in, and the doctor who I was supposed to see had an emergency that morning and was at the hospital, unable to see her patients. The office was in a panic, so I offered to reschedule. They insisted that I stay, and I would see the PA, the appointment would just be a little delayed. We waited, and we waited. Finally, we were called back and the PA asked a series of questions, and my answers left her a little concerned. She stepped out of the room. A few minutes later, she returned, stating that she just felt like she needed to check me. Even though she thought everything was fine, and she was already running almost 2 hours behind, she felt like she should just check to be positive. Upon examination, I was 1cm dilated. She panicked, and sent me straight for an ultrasound. During the ultrasound, it was found that I was contracting (consistently) and my cervix was open and measuring 4mm (that is very short). This was bad. I could look at the screen and see my baby's head dropping with each contraction, which I never felt. Within minutes, we were told to get to the hospital (where the doctor just so happened to already be). When we arrived, she was waiting for me, and checked me immediately. I was then 3-4cm dilated, and 70% effaced. At 27weeks pregnant, this is NOT what you want. It appeared as if I would deliver this baby soon, and very soon. The doctor made a quick decision to pack me up and transport me to a larger hospital that could handle a premature baby. Within an hour, I had a steroid shot (betamethazone - to help develop the baby's lungs) and was on magnesium sulfate (to stop contractions) and on my way to another hospital.

I cannot explain the fear. Fear of delivering your underdeveloped baby. Fear of her outcome. Fear of making it to the hospital in time. Fear of not knowing the doctors that would deliver my tiny baby.

Yesterday, we went to visit these women who worked quickly, to save my daughter. They made quick decisions, and made all the right decisions. Had I rescheduled my appointment, had the doctor been there like she was supposed to be, had the PA not checked me, because she was two hours behind and didn't have time; I have a good idea that my baby would have been delivered rapidly, without any warning, and her survival would have been grim.

I went to the hospital, only to spend 38 days on hospital bed rest, not to deliver my 27 week baby, like everyone thought. Then, I thought it was a bad day, now, I know it was nothing short of a miraculous day.

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