 |
||||||||||
|
||||||||||
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
 |
||||||||
He Still Performs Miracles By Wendy There it was again…that vague cramping sensation. I had been feeling it off and on all day. I had been at the doctor just two days prior, and I really didn’t think it meant anything. Besides, I could barely feel it. Maybe I was even mistaken. Just when I was able to convince myself, I’d feel it again. Finally I decided I’d better call my husband, Mike, and see what he thought. Mike had always been my sounding board and he seemed to be a lot less fearful than I was. However, this time he surprised me. “You better call your doctor,” he said. I resisted that idea…I didn’t want to bother my doctor. “No, I don’t want to do that,” I said. “Call your doctor!” Mike insisted. And it was a good thing, too. My doctor told me to come in to labor and delivery. Once I had been examined, I was told that I had begun to dilate. Apparently the nurses could see the baby’s head through my cervix and the amniotic sac. I was likely hours away from losing him. Fortunately, my doctor noticed a local high-risk specialist in the hallway. He asked him to come in and consult with me. The specialist informed me that I needed a cerclage or I would most likely lose my child. I was only 20 weeks along, and my baby didn’t have a chance of survival if born. That night I was rushed via ambulance to a larger, level III hospital in downtown Jacksonville. I spent the night in the Trendelenberg position (head down, feet up) and by morning my baby had “fallen back in.” After diagnosing me with an incompetent cervix, I was taken into the operating room. The doctors were successful in stitching my cervix closed. This opened up an entirely new situation, however. I could no longer work. I could no longer get out of bed for anything other than bathroom visits and short showers. Fortunately for me my mother-in-law came and took care of me, making my lunches and dinners as though I were a child again. I don’t know how I would have managed without her. For the duration of my pregnancy I was afraid to breathe. Every little twinge and ache worried me. My muscles ached. I was bored out of my mind. The medicine I was on to stop contractions made my hands shake and my stomach upset. I had to force myself to eat. I began to lose weight. I drank rivers of water. Minutes seemed like hours and days felt like years. I proceeded to go into labor three separate times. Each time I was given magnesium sulfate, morphine, indocin, and terbutaline. I was permitted to have phenergan to combat the terrible nausea brought on by the magnesium. Each time my husband would go down to the chapel to pray for our baby’s safety. Fortunately, each “mag cocktail” worked…though I spent several months in the hospital, I didn’t deliver until 37.5 weeks. My son, Brandon, was born on July 3rd. He was a healthy, though small, baby. Mike and I felt blessed beyond belief. We knew we were so fortunate. Looking at his tiny face, I couldn’t imagine a happier person than I in the entire world. What’s more- I could walk again! I could get up! Life could begin again. Why we decided to get ourselves into that situation again, I’m not sure. But we did. Barely two years later my husband and I found out I was once again pregnant. This was amazing, since we had just returned from Vail. We had been snowmobiling, horseback riding, soaking in the whirlpool, tumbling down the slopes. I can’t imagine how I was able to hang onto the pregnancy through all of that, but I did. In this pregnancy, I had a planned cerclage at 11 weeks. I was frightened when I experienced strong cramping afterward, for several days. Eventually, the cramping stopped and I was allowed to be on “modified” bedrest. This meant I could do most things for myself, I just needed to take it easy. That worked until I went into labor again. I proceeded to go into labor four times in that pregnancy, each time getting the same “mag cocktail” I had come to know and despise. Every subsequent labor saw me wanting to deliver, needing to deliver, even though I knew in my heart my baby was not ready. It wasn’t that I didn’t want my baby…it was just that I didn’t think I could endure one more day of the nauseating medicine, the four walls of my hospital room, the constant shots. And I had my first son at home, whom I missed terribly. I knew he needed me. I called on the hospital Pastor, and she prayed with me and held my hand each time. God knew better than I did and I didn’t deliver my second son until 36.5 weeks. After a brief check, he was also able to go to the regular nursery. He was also very small, but healthy. We named him Austin. I know that I am fortunate. I know that I am blessed. Having had two miscarriages myself, I know the pain they cause. I don’t know why my babies were saved when others are not. I am heartsick for each and every mother who has lost her baby. But for whatever reason, He has a plan for my two boys. And I know that God still performs miracles, even today.
|
||||||||
| |
||||||||
Copyright © 1999 - 2001, Incompetent Cervix and Pregnancy Support |
||||||||