Share Your Story

Our March for Babies walk was this past Saturday. On the eve of the walk, I can't help but think about the very early arrivals of all of my baby boys. I can easily go back to each of my pregnancies and recall all of the details that led to their premature births. Our first son, Donovyn, was born at 32 weeks in 2005. I had been admitted at 31 weeks and 4/7 for severe preeclampsia. He spent 3 weeks in two different NICUs and came home just in time for Christmas that year. Our second son, Tristyn, was born at 34 weeks in 2007. It was discovered that I had lost nearly all of my amniotic fluid at a weekly routine ultrasound. We delivered shortly after I arrived at the hospital and he was able to come home despite being totally jaundice. Our angel son, Naethyn, was born at exactly 30 weeks in 2009. The economy was awful and people were losing their jobs and homes. I lost my baby. 

I was seeing the same OB for all three pregnancies, someone I knew and trusted, who knew me. With the economy the way it was and being near retirement himself, he had not invested in the practice. He was let go and I was involuntarily transferred to another OB. We only had two visits together and we were not on the same page. With the guidelines for early C-section in place, she was talking maybe 37 or 38 weeks depending. I was high-risk. I should have been in that office at least twice a month if not weekly. In the end, I knew that something was up and called her in the late afternoon on a Thursday. She couldn't remember a thing about me. That I was 30 weeks along, had been on bedrest for 2 months, was a teacher, NOTHING. I described the swelling and other symptoms I knew too well. She told me it was "too early" and I should try and get help with the kids, stay off of my feet, drink plenty of water, and do some hydrotherapy. Right then on the phone, I felt doomed already. She was not the least concerned. I was glad that I called, but I didn't feel right. A few hours later, those awful cramps had started and I was shaking uncontrollably. They subsided and I made the decision to head to the hospital by myself approaching midnight. 

Upon arrival, there was no heartbeat. I had preeclampsia and a placental abruption coupled with a blood clot. I was bleeding out and lost so much more blood because no one could get an IV started. I was that swollen. A call was made to my husband, we talked for a few seconds really, and I was off to surgery. I remember being in so much pain, tears streaming down my face, and the nurses accompanying me in the elevator up to the surgical floor were as silent as the baby I was now carrying. When I came to, my husband was there and we met our son together. He was beautiful and I treasure the moments of togetherness that we had with him. We have pictures of those moments and it's all the proof I have that he was here on this Earth, if only for a short time.

I think about all of this and so much more as I geared up for another wonderful walk in support of March of Dimes. I am trying to channel the pain and the grief into something positive. I think about the amazing families I've met and connected with while on this journey of "new normal." The ShareYourStory site has been a tremendous line of support these last 7 years just as it continues to be for so many. We need to keep walking so that more research can be done, more training can be put in place, and more guidelines established. On walk day, I feel so much pride as I watch hundreds of families and people out supporting each other for such a wonderful cause.

Note: The inflatable had just blown over. Nobody was hurt in the capturing of this picture:)