There are a lot of preemie babies in my life and I have to say, their mommies are some of the most amazing women I’ve ever met. Their strength and resiliency are truly astounding. So, in honor or Prematurity Awareness Month, here is one of their stories:
I am a mommy to three awesome kiddos. None of their deliveries or first days went as I hoped, and each got crazier than the last. Here is our (condensed!) story.
My first pregnancy was pretty uneventful. I was caught off guard when my water broke Christmas morning (a day shy of 38 weeks). My Little Man was born later that evening via c section.
We were quite excited when we learned #2 was on the way. The boys would be about 21 months apart (so we initially thought), which many people thought was crazy, but we wanted our kids close together in age. I expected a somewhat similar experience this time around. This pregnancy was pretty uneventful as well, other than feeling pretty miserable the first trimester. I had 2 friends that were due within weeks of me, so we had fun comparing notes. Hubby and I struggled agreeing on a name for this baby. I so clearly remember a conversation on August 11 about what we would name Peanut. We both had a top name, and thankfully it was the same first name, but neither of us were convinced it was the right name. “At least we still have awhile to decide!” we said. Later that afternoon, while at a play date, another expectant friend and I discussed what still needed doing before our boys arrived. “At least we still have some time!” we agreed. I got home and quickly put Little Man to bed, since it was past his bedtime. I thought I was having some Braxton hicks, so I laid on the couch and drank large amounts of water. I decided to go to bed kind of early, but woke up every hour, still noticing something seemed off. I started googling contractions at 33 weeks, but not having any of the conditions that increase chances for preterm delivery, I went back to bed. Eventually, I realized that these were contractions and they were coming consistently and closer. I called the doctor, who went through her list of questions. She felt it was probably nothing, but wanted me to come in to get checked. Things got pretty painful enroute to the hospital. (No bags packed, all I had was chap stick and the camera we grabbed as we ran out the door.) I was already 7cm when I got there. No chances to try for a vbac, they just had to get him out quickly. Once he was delivered, they smooshed his face next to mine for a second before whisking him off to the NICU. I had prepared myself that this delivery would probably be a c-section. I had prepared myself to have to wait a couple hours before holding this baby. I was not prepared for a baby in the NICU while recovering from a c-section. I was not prepared to wait a whole day to really see him. And I really was not prepared to have to wait 4 ½ days to hold him (I know many moms have to wait much longer, and my hugs go to you!) I never dreamed that I’d scrub like a surgeon for 3 minutes every time I visited Peanut. Or that I would become fluent in NICU terminology. Instead of happily showing him off to friends and family, we were celebrating extubations, no more UV lights, no more oxygen, bottle feeding for the first time (which was a major challenge …….he’d burn more calories eating than calories he was in taking from the bottle), moving from an incubator to an open crib, maintaining body temperature, nursing for the first time, and finally going home 2 weeks later…….at which point he finally got to meet his big brother for the first time. A week after being home, Peanut’s body temperature dropped scary low. We had to bring him back to the hospital, where he was readmitted. Tests were ran, antibiotics were administered, and we waited. It turned out his body temperature had just gotten too low and regardless of what we did, he didn’t have enough fat to keep his temperature up. So, even though it was about 195 degrees in south Florida, he was kept bundled in sleepers, hats, and blankets at all times.
Fast forward to pregnancy #3. We were so excited that we’d be a family of 5. But I was definitely more cautious this time around, more aware of every oddity. At my first doctor appointment, I asked if it was likely this baby would arrive early too. I was assured that another preterm delivery wasn’t guaranteed, that this baby could come full term. But at my 20 week ultrasound, the perinatologist explained that with every preterm delivery, chances for another preterm delivery went up. It was suggested I receive weekly progesterone injections to hopefully prevent another preemie. While those injections were miserable and made me feel even more cruddy, I hoped that they would keep Little Miss put until at least 36 weeks. (I realized that was still preterm, but that didn’t seem so scary.) I prepared myself for a c-section. I prepared myself for a preemie who would be whisked to the NICU. I knew it would be a day before I could really see her, or so I had prepared myself for. Well, at 35 ½ weeks, contractions started. And they got closer and stronger very, very quickly. I was completely dilated when I got to the hospital and I was raced to the OR. They sat me up to administer the spinal and quickly realized that wasn’t going to be possible. So, I waited, strapped down and alone (hubby couldn’t come in until Little Miss was born) in crazy pain , waiting for the doctor so they could put me under general anesthesia. I hadn’t prepared myself to miss that first cry, the moment they announce the weight, etc. I missed it all……then I had a horrible time coming out of the anesthesia, completely different pain management than I had experienced previously, and then several steps backward the following day due to the anesthesia. It was 2 days before I even got to see my little girl. And another day until I got to hold her. Her NICU stay was shorter, only 8 days. And while she thankfully never needed to be intubated, we still celebrated many NICU milestones. But bringing her home and introducing her to her brothers was pretty special. I had a very difficult recovery from her birth and she has had many extra appointments due to some mild health issues that we are still wading through. (I believe these challenges are due to the delivery and not the fact that she was preterm.)
Looking at my kids today, you would never guess that two were preemies. They are growing and developing on track. They are happy and healthy. I know there are many mommies out there that have endured much more challenging NICU stays. (And to those moms that didn’t have NICU babies, be extra thankful for those snuggles you got so early in your little one’s life.) But this is my story of my kids’ beginnings. Nothing can prepare you for a preterm birth; no two deliveries are alike. Preemie mommies experience things many mommies don’t, but we have a special connection and understanding with each other. And thank goodness for those NICU nurses, there will always be a special place in my heart for them, as they celebrated each milestone with us as if it was their own baby. And while I wish my little ones didn’t spend time in the NICU, I am so very thankful they are healthy, growing, developing, and a part of our family!
