She has arrived!

Yes, our beautiful baby GIRL (it's a girl!!!) arrived this past weekend. We couldn't be more in love with her if we tried.

I cannot believe it's been a month since I last posted on Pregosaur. I'm sorry for my silence, ladies, but the bed rest was getting to me and I really didn't feel like I had much to add to the blog. Mentally, I was just exhausted from thinking about all the medical information being thrown our way, and did not feel like writing about it...

Long story short, I started getting ultrasound monitoring (which still showed zero amniotic fluid, but growth on target), a fetal echo test, and daily home visits from ante-natal nurses (they did non-stress tests) starting in my 24th week. The nurses were optimistic and told me to hang in there. The doctors were mostly doom and gloom, preparing us for the worst.

We had a couple of labour scares, but we were able to complete a round of steroids in my 25th week.

And then the BIG EVENT happened on Sunday, November 8, 2009. Our daughter was born after 26 weeks, 1 day gestation.

My labour was pretty quick, which I understand is normal for pre-term babies. The evening before she was born, I started getting lots of pelvic pressure and I felt like the baby had dropped. I had talked to the nurse about it, but because I was not exhibiting any other symptoms of labour, she was unconcerned. I went to bed at my usual time, around 10:00 pm, and I slept well.

At 3:00 am, I woke up to pee and started feeling a backache and menstrual type cramps that were coming and going. After lying there for about 45 minutes, I woke up Mr. Legalosaur and got him to help me time them. We timed them for another 45 minutes or so, when it became obvious that they were coming and going every 4 minutes very predictably. Despite the fact that I was not having any contractions in the front pelvic region, we thought it best to go to the hospital to get assessed.

So we hopped in the car and made our way to the hospital. When I got there, the nurse hooked me up to the non-stress machine and walked away. The pains were now coming and going every 3 minutes. But there were no contractions showing up on the monitoring strip. I am no medical expert, but I had seen enough monitor strips over the few weeks previous that I could tell that the baby's heartrate was dipping every time I had one of my labour pains. Yet, they just let me sit there and wait.

I could tell the nurse did not believe I was truly in labour and thought that I was being a big baby. They had me sit on the monitor for almost an hour before the resident finally came in to see me. And that was only after I started vomiting that the nurse started to take me seriously and went to go get the resident.

A quick speculum check showed that I was already at 6 cm. (Turns out I had back labour only, which means no contractions showing up on the monitor!) The resident said, "I can see lots of black hair."

And that's when chaos broke out in my little assessment room. Suddenly there was a flurry of activity. Four nurses swooped in and started putting in my IV, filling out paperwork, adjusting my bed for transport, etc. I was very scared at that point, and in pain, so I don't really remember much of this point. I know I asked if I could get something for the pain, and they answered that I could...

They did another check of my cervix just 10 minutes later, and at that point I was at 9 cm. And they freaked out that I had progressed so quickly. The NICU team was called down stat, and I was wheeled away to the delivery room in the OR.

As I was being wheeled to the OR, I asked again about pain medication. I was told no, there was no time, we needed to get this baby out now. While I am not averse to the idea of a natural labour, I had intended to have some idea of how to breathe and focus, how to push, what to do... But I didn't have a clue. I wasn't ready. I was reeling from the idea that we were having our baby NOW and I wasn't ready for it. I really, truly thought we'd make it to at least 28 weeks.

In the OR suite, Mr. Legalosaur met with me after changing into scrubs and a fancy hairnet-shower-cap thingy. They put my legs into the air, and then I was told to push. And so push I did. It was painful, but not as painful as it could have been given my baby's tiny size. Really, the worst part was the resident pulling and stretching open my perineum so that there was lots of room for the baby to come out with minimal trauma. I think it took about 5 "episodes" of pushing (you push three or four quickly successive times when a contraction comes), about 15 minutes total, and our child was born.

They quickly cut her cord and rushed her over to the waiting NICU team. I heard one weak cry, and that was it. They didn't even tell me if I had a son or a daughter. I had to ask the ob-gyn to go check and let me know. She came back and told us it's a girl... and I remember thinking "A daughter! Our daughter." but mostly I was dying to see or hear her. And I was worried to death that she didn't survive the birth or was not going to live before I could feel her and touch her.

Sadly, the whole thing was such a whirlwind and we forgot our camera in the car. By the time we remembered and wanted to run down and get it, there was no time because baby was coming NOW. So all we have of our daughter's first hours of life are a couple of cell phone pictures on Mr. Legalosaur's blackberry. We had discussed previously that he should accompany her to the NICU, being that I would have to spend some time in recovery. If she did end up passing away, I didn't want her to pass on without a parent there. Luckily, he felt the same way.

I had to stay in the OR to deliver the placenta and to monitor my bleeding. I was there for almost an hour after the birth until I was finally put into a wheelchair and wheeled to my room on the recovery ward. Then they had to do vital monitoring, go through aftercare, and the nurse wanted me to go to bathroom with her watching to make sure that all was well down there. And then they forced me to eat breakfast before they would wheel me to the NICU, so I ate my food in record time and paged the nurse to take me up to see my baby girl.

The first time I saw her was almost two hours after she was born. I dissolved into tears at how tiny and fragile she looked. The neonatologist told me a bunch of stuff about her lungs and condition, but I don't really remember what she said now...

Turns out the likely reason for my early labour (aside from the premature rupture of my membranes) was infection. My placenta had areas of pus and infection on it.

Today, our little baby girl is doing amazingly well considering her prematurity (*knock on wood*). She is tiny, but feisty. She's proven to be the fighter I always knew she was, all throughout the pregnancy. When she grips my finger in the NICU, I cannot help but think that she would not be here if we had decided to terminate our pregnancy when my water broke at 20 weeks. I am soooo glad that we made the decision to wait and see what the future would bring. She is our miracle, the light of our lives. I treasure and cherish every moment I get to spend with her, and wouldn't trade them for the world.

And with that, this will be my last post on Pregosaur. I have decided that I have too much on my plate to go on and post on Littlesaur, as much as I would like to share my experience as a NICU parent. But I know I need to focus all my attention and energy on our daughter, and so that's what I'm going to do.

Thank you to all the readers for your thoughts, support and encouragement throughout my pregnancy. I will check back and see how the rest of the Pregosaurs are doing from time to time, and cheer you all on from the sidelines. Good luck to you all!

Frustrations

Still here, still waiting. I'm 23 weeks and 1 day (woooo!) and it's officially 3 weeks since my water broke.

We are fighting hard. The neonatologist told us the absolute earliest they would intervene and try to save our baby is if (a) they are 23.5 weeks or more when born, and (b) they weigh 500g or more.

So we're almost there with the 23.5 week threshold (although I'd REALLY prefer for this baby not to be born before 28 weeks, but definitely NOT in October!!).

Sadly, I have no idea how much this baby weighs, so that's a bit of a wild card. Even though the "weekly development" calendar at BabyCenter says this baby weighs over a pound (which is GOOD), I know it really can vary so much at this stage. So, I'm just trying to eat lots of fruit and sweet things along with my healthy food, because I know that babies of diabetic tend to be a little bigger because of the increased blood sugars. Nobody coached me on this, it is just something I came up with on my own. I just hope I don't make myself diabetic from doing this...

Despite fighting hard and trying to keep positive, it has not been easy. Over the past week, I have been in tears numerous times. Mostly because I feel like the perinatology (high-risk) clinic at our local hospital has been giving me the run around (they were!), which completely frustrated me. And a decrease of movement by the babe over the Thanksgiving long weekend really had me worried too.

Luckily, I have found a lifeline. There's a nurse practitioner ("NP") at the high-risk clinic who ended up getting in contact with me this past week and she's been AMAZING so far, even in such a short period of time. We talked for a long while, as I've been very frustrated dealing with all the different doctors and specialists. It seems like each has a differing opinion, and I'm not sure who to listen to. It seems like all I'm doing is spinning my wheels at appointments with subsequent doctors, who pooh-pooh the advice given by the previous one. And then no concrete plan of action can be made. Some are so harsh about our baby's chances at life, that they are very dismissive of any of our concerns and questions. The rage and helplessness I feel at times is unreal. The NP was able to clarify many of the discrepancies, give Mr. Legalosaur and I some really good information, and we're now much more comfortable that our concerns are being addressed.

The NP also asked me to come in on Thursday for a check-up just to assess the slow down in the baby's activity. Luckily, all seems fine, baby is just moving in a different way now than before. He/she was kicking the doppler wand, which is a good sign, and the NP even felt him/her kick from the outside. She said anytime we want to hear our baby's heartbeat or have any concern at all, just give her a call and drop by. Having this lifeline is such a relief, you have no idea - I am starting to realize more and more than my ob-gyn is complete rubbish.

Unfortunately, I did have some contractions on Wednesday night, starting around 9:30 pm and going until about 4:00 am. Just one strong one every half hour or so, enough to wake me from my sleep, and a constant low backache. It was very scary. They seem to have disappeared when I awoke on Thursday morning, which had us breathing one HUGE sigh of relief. Let's hope they stay away. We need to keep this baby baking MUCH longer!!

Finally, we have something to look forward to... I have an ultrasound and a fetal echo appointment scheduled at the perinatal (high-risk) clinic for October 28th. And we'll be having a nurse come to our house daily starting in my 24th week, to do vitals monitoring and a fetal non-stress test. So, finally, we won't just be sitting around and waiting anymore. We'll be getting some medical monitoring as well, which will help me put my mind at ease a little more.

So, we're back to playing the waiting game. I'm sorry if my thoughts in this post are jumbled, but I kindof feel like my life is all a jumble as well.

Hanging on...

Thank you to everyone for your comments on my last post. As you may remember, Mr. Legalosaur and I made the decision not to terminate our pregnancy and instead we will "wait and see".

And here we are, two weeks after my membranes rupturing. We are still waiting. We are trying to be as strong as we can right now. It still feels like a miracle every time I hear the baby's heartbeat on the Doppler, or feel a particularly strong kick. But I am still leaking amniotic fluid - I feel like every little bit of fluid this baby makes I am letting leak out of me, and it kills me to know this. Tears spring to my eyes so easily these days - tears of relief, fear, happiness and overwhelming emotion.

It is a miracle that we have made it this far. I was terrified of going into labour within a week of my membranes rupturing, as so many women do. I am so grateful and thankful to make it this far. But, I am still only in my 22nd week of pregnancy. We need to make it to at least 24 weeks before the doctors will intervene and give this baby the best chance at life that it can get. While I am desperate to make it to 24 weeks, I'm even more desperate to make it to 28 weeks to give this baby the best chance at life as possible.

So, while I try to take it day-by-day (to make the mountain of time in front of me seem less like an insurmountable mountain) two weeks more to wait does feel like an eternity. Taking it day-by-day makes it easier on me. If I don't let myself think about numbers and statistics and weeks, it is easier to cope.

This weekend is Thanksgiving in Canada. There are moments where I feel extremely bitter and think that I have nothing to be thankful for. However, I know that is not true. Our baby is still alive. Infection has stayed away this far. We have made it to two week post-PPROM. We have the support of so many wonderful family and friends, and even strangers on the internet. These are all things to be thankful for.

Today, as my family brings over Thanksgiving dinner to our house (because I am still on strict bedrest and cannot go anywhere except doctor's appointments), I will try to focus on what I have to be thankful for today, and bury my fears for the future until tomorrow.

The beginning of the end...

This past Sunday my water broke – at 20 weeks and 1 day – and we ended up at Labour & Delivery until Monday evening. What I happened to us is called PPROM, or preterm premature rupture of membranes.

I cannot even begin to describe how difficult, painful and confusing the past few days have been. Everything has been completely out of our comfort zone, and we are terrified about what the future holds for us and our baby. I'm not even sure where to start with all of this, so bear with me. This post is going to be so long. . .

I started experiencing contractions on Sunday, and gradually throughout the day they were getting worse. I had spoken to my doctor, and we were preparing to go to the hospital when my water broke. It was while I was sitting on the toilet for one last pee before heading out to the car. My contractions completely stopped after my water broke.

The good news is that our baby is still alive. The bad news is that there is absolutely NO amniotic fluid left inside of me anymore. Every time I stand up to go pee, what little fluid has replenished itself leaks out again.

We met with a perinatologist at the high-risk clinic on Monday. While they tried to be as sympathetic as possible, the news is not good. Basically, chances are "slim to none" of having a live, relatively healthy baby after all of this. Upon prodding to put a number to such a fluffy proclamation, they told us less than 10%.

We were given one of two options by the perinatologist: (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. Debating the options was agonizing. Not only did I want to make a decision that sat well with me personally, but I wanted to make sure that Mr. Legalosaur's wishes were also taken into consideration. I was so devastated and sleep-deprived that what the doctor was saying to me didn't make much sense. I must have sounded like a complete idiot, but I had to get him to repeat things over and over again because I couldn't keep anything straight in my head.

Here's what I now understand from our appointment with the perinatologist. . . Right now, I could go into labour at any moment. Labour before 24 weeks means certain death for our baby, as they will not intervene or resuscitate. Even if we can hold on until 24 weeks and 1 day (most women go into labour within 1 week of their membranes rupturing, although it is not unusual for women to hold on for 4-6 weeks after rupture at 20 weeks, it is not common), the first thing they will do is weigh the baby. If the baby weighs less than 500g, they will not intervene or resuscitate. If the baby is between 500g and 750g, they will make an evaluative decision based on the baby's responsiveness.

Best is if we can hang on to 25 weeks, and have a baby that weighs over 750g. But even if we make it to this benchmark, there is pretty much a 70% probability that this baby will die soon after birth due to pulmonary issues that are caused by a lack of fluid. Fluid is necessary for the baby to breathe in to help mature the lungs. Without fluid, the lungs are tiny and hard and will not be able to expand and fill with air. So, while other babies born at 25 weeks may be able to breathe after getting steroid shots, ours might not because he or she would have spent 5 crucial weeks of development without the benefit of fluid.

We also need to be concerned for infection. Fluid is crucial to protect the baby from infection. Not only can infection be fatal to the baby, but because it can also be very dangerous to me.

And, finally, if we are so lucky to fit in the small number of babies that survive after birth, there was a laundry list of disabilities that were listed off to us as likely or probable: club feet and hands, deformities to the head, brain damage and mental retardation, cerebral palsy, blindness, deafness, etc.

After much discussion and soul-searching, Mr. Legalosaur and I have decided to wait and see. This baby has been such a fighter throughout this whole pregnancy. To induce labour now and sign this baby's death certificate does not sit right with us personally. We were told over and over again by the doctors that we need to make the right decision for us, and not to worry about what other people would think or would do. We also need to make sure that if we do want to wait and see, and the baby survives, that we think about the lifetime of medical appointments and disabilities that we would have to deal with. Are we ready as a couple to care for a child with demanding medical needs? I don't know – this is not something you seriously consider when you look at each other and decide to start a family. What I do know is that I could never live with myself if I let this little fighter go. Luckily, Mr. Legalosaur feels the same way.

I am not ready to say good-bye to this little one, not yet.

A couple of things that completely threw me for a loop. First, apparently PPROM is quite common where a woman has had continuous bleeding in a pregnancy. I had no idea. Secondly, if this baby dies in utero and is born still before 25 weeks, it is possible that they will not be able to tell us whether the baby is a boy or a girl. What happens, I guess, is that the baby's body gets dehydrated and babies look very similar at this stage. We had chosen not to find out the gender of the baby because we wanted a surprise. Unfortunately, if you tell the ultrasound tech you do not want to know the gender, they do not even look for it in your scan, and they take no pictures of the baby's sex organs. So, despite my desperately wanting to know NOW what this baby is, there is no way for us to find out. We will just have to hope that if he or she is born still that we will be able to see the gender. It breaks me apart to think that we may have lost our chance to know whether this is our son or our daughter.

We will meet with a neonatologist next week to discuss in more detail what types of preemie issues we might be dealing with, in addition to the specific issues that will arise from the lack of fluid.

If you have made it this far, thank you. I may sound fairly coherent in this post, but the reality is that I am broken and I can never be repaired. I have cried buckets full of tears. On the one hand I am trying to cling to some hope that we will beat the odds and be one of the success stories. On the other hand, the realist in me is preparing for the death of our child and we are exploring burial options. And yet another side of me is trying to research as much possible so I understand the disabilities that we may be facing if this baby proves to be the fighter that he or she has been throughout this whole pregnancy. We are scrambling to buy some micro preemie outfits, because even if our baby is born dead or dies soon thereafter, I do not want him or her to be naked.

This all just feels like a bad dream that I cannot wake up from. Mostly I ask myself "why me, why us, why our baby?" I feel like I'm being punished for something, but I'm not sure what. I am so angry at my body for failing this baby. Unfortunately, I don't think there are any answers or any comfort that I can find in this situation.

I'll keep you updated as and when I can, but I don't know how often that will be. Pray for us, we need all the help we can get.