Friday, August 17, 2012

One Day at a Time

This past week has been the most emotionally trying week I've ever had to endure. Not only me, by for my husband and my family.

Monday morning I woke up with slight cramping and some spotting. Instead of taking a trip down the the MVD like I had planned, I called my doctor's office and made an appointment to be seen. Being that it was my birthday, my family was already planning on coming over for a little cake and dinner, I asked them to come a little earlier so I could leave Ashton with them while I was checked out.
According to the ultrasound, my cervix had shortened to 2cm and I was sent to Arrowhead hospital to be monitored. From there, they confirmed that I was contracting every 4-5 minutes. After two shots of terbutaline and some Motrin, the contractions started to slow down. I was kept over night for observation but all looked well. The ultrasound the next morning showed that my cervix wasn't 2cm, but that it was about 3.2-3.5 cm long. My contracting made it appear shorter than it really was.

I was sent home Tuesday morning only to wake up Wednesday with a strange gush of fluid like I had wet the bed. I called the hospital and they said it could possibly be the lubricant from the gel they use when doing vaginal ultrasounds. Once it hits a certain temperature it will liquify. That seemed to make sense but the water like substance didn't stop. I called Patrick, my husband, who then called his mom to come over and pick myself and Ashton, my 21 month old son up. She dropped me off at the the hospital and then everything turned for the worse.

I did in fact rupture my water.

All of a sudden there were a million nurses rushing in and out giving me shots of this, and taking blood for that. My doctor is explaining the situation and nothing sounds positive. I'm an emotional wreck. Sobbing uncontrollably while trying to process all of the information that I was presented with.  I'm only 23 weeks and this is just too early. I'm not ready to have a baby and he is not ready to come out. I'm rushed from Arrowhead hospital to Thunderbird hospital because they are equipt to handle pre mature births from 24 weeks where as Arrowhead is only equipt for 28 and up.

With all the information I'm being thrown, its hard to stay positive. All the facts and statistics are not in our favor. The options we are given are not ideal. My mind is trying to process it all but it is so surreal. I keep thinking that I'll wake up soon and all will be back to normal.
I keep wanting and waiting for things to be okay. I keep waiting for a doctor to come in with a miracle cure that will ensure that my baby boy is safe and will grow to be healthy and strong. But its not happening. And instead I'm being faced with survival ratings and the chances for disabilities. How did it come to this?

Here are the facts.

I am 23 weeks and 3 days. Babies who are born at 23 weeks have the survival rate of 0-10%. And those who do survive have a 90% chance of having some sort of disability. Babies who are born at 24 weeks have a 50/50 chance at survival and will have an 80% chance of having disabilities. Each hour, each day, and each week play a huge factor in what our son's future will look like.

As of now, I am still pregnant. Although my water has ruptured, he has enough fluid to keep him in there. Amniotic fluid regenerates itself when the baby urinates. So as long as I don't lose too much fluid, we should be okay for a while. There is a small chance that the bag can reseal itself. Even though its possible, its very unlikely. I haven't leaked nearly as much fluid as I did yesterday. In fact, I've hardly lost any at all today. I am currently on an IV with magnesium and antibiotics to help keep infection away. Tomorrow at 8am, I will be taken off the IV because the magnesium can sometimes mask infection. If I get an infection, then my baby boy will have to be delivered whether we would like to or not. This is my situation. I know nothing. I don't know how this will play out. As much as we all would love to be optimistic, we can't deny reality. And right now, I'm struggling with reality.

I can handle disabilities. He is my child who I already love and will love with all of my being regardless of any handicaps. Its the other outcome that I can't imagine.
I can't express the pain that Patrick and I are going through. The fear is in the unknown. We have no idea if our baby will be here tomorrow, or a few weeks from now. We have no idea what complications we will face. We have no idea what sort of outcome we will be given. Not knowing anything is the scariest position to be in. If there was anyway to see into the future and pinpoint what we are facing, I would feel so much better because I could prepare for it. How can you prepare yourself for the unknown? There is such a thin line between life and death and I've never seen it until now. All we can do is go along for the ride and hope and pray for the very best outcome. We never thought this would happen to us. Nobody ever does.
Baby Blake is a fighter. I can feel him. He kicks and moves and is so strong. And that gives us hope. We are doing all that we can to keep him in my womb for as long as possible. Every day is a milestone and blessing. We leave his fate in God's hands and we trust that he knows what to do.

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