My Miracle Baby

My little Gabriel is a miracle baby.  I don’t say that lightly, but he really shouldn’t be here right now.  He should have died three different times, all before he was actually born, but God chose to save him.  I don’t want to ever forget what God has done in his life, so I want to tell his story.

I had a really good pregnancy.  I was active and I felt really good.  I had my moments of nausea or emotional craziness, but they were moments, not months of agony that so many of my friends dealt with.  Overall, it was going really well and I liked being pregnant.

At 19 weeks 3 days, a Tuesday, Pat, Bella and I all went to my ultrasound to find out if we were having a boy or a girl.  The ultrasound went well, everything looked good and we found out that we were having a little boy.  At the end of the appointment, the ultrasound tech checked my cervical length and then suddenly said “I need to talk to your doctor” and ran out of the room.

When the doctor came in, he explained that your cervix length is supposed to be 4 cm.  Mine was .5 cm.  I had an incompetent cervix and the only chance to keep the baby was to get an emergent cerclage, a stitch to hold the cervix closed until the baby is full term.  My aunt had several cerclages and had three healthy babies, so I was familiar with the procedure and wasn’t particularly concerned at this point.  The doctor left to go make the arrangements to medivac me to Seattle that night to get the procedure.  

The doctor came back in and said that we needed to check the status of the membranes and do an amniocentesis before I could fly to Seattle.  He did a physical exam and discovered that the membranes were already leaking out.  The hospital in Seattle now considered the situation too dire to medivac me and told me to just wait until the sac ruptured.  Since I was only at 19 weeks gestation, the baby would have no chance of survival.

This was actually the first time that God saved Gabriel’s life.  When I went to my 8 week appointment, I mentioned that Pat and I were going on vacation to Hawaii.  The nurse told me to come in for my next appointment when I got back, which was 11 weeks instead of 12 weeks.  As such, each of my appointments was actually a week earlier than they were supposed to be.  I went in for my 20 week appointment at 19 weeks 3 days, instead of 20 weeks.  If I’d gone in a week later, the sac would have already burst.

Our doctor said that he’d be willing to try and put the cerclage in for us.  He’d done them before, but only in emergency situations and it had been a few years since he'd put one in.  He’d never tried pushing a sac back in and he wasn’t sure that it was even done, but he’d be willing to try.  However, it was pretty likely that the sac would rupture in the process and then there was nothing that could be done.  It was either that or just wait for the sac to rupture on its own, since it was already exposed.  In either case, it looked like our baby was going to be delivered too early to survive.

We went home that day both devastated and in shock.  I was now on complete bedrest, trying to keep as much pressure off of my cervix as possible.  Pat and I spent two days thinking, talking, praying and crying.  We finally decided to let the doctor try to put in the cerclage.  We knew that more than likely he’d puncture the sac and that would be it.   But if it worked, then at least our baby would have a chance.  That was better than laying in bed, knowing that the sac was going to burst on its own at any moment.

On Thursday I saw a bit of blood, so we headed back to the doctor.  As we were waiting in the exam room, I told God that if we were going to lose this baby, I wanted to feel him kick first.  Just then I felt two little kicks. 

We saw a different doctor this time, who was shocked that the first doctor would even consider putting in a cerclage.  But he did an exam and said that everything still looked the same.  He sent me down for an amniocentesis, to make sure that there wasn’t any sort of infection, a reason that my body was actually trying to get rid of the baby.  When he called with the results that night, he said that they’d found white blood cells, which indicated infection.  They’d need to culture them for 48 hours to figure out what they actually were but “the odds were not good before.  Now they’re even worse.”

Saturday morning, at 20 weeks pregnant, the first doctor called to say that he could do the surgery that day if we wanted.  The cultures had come back negative (our first bit of good news!) and the operating room was available if we could head to the hospital right then.  We grabbed our stuff and headed to the hospital, knowing that more than likely we were having a baby that day, but hoping and praying for a miracle.

The plan was for me to have a spinal block and then to be awake for the surgery.  I was not happy about this.  Since this was the regular operating room (rather than the c-section operating room), Pat wasn’t allowed inside.  This meant that I was going to be awake for the whole procedure and would hear the doctor say that he’d ruptured the sac.  I was willing to get the spinal and have the surgery, but I did not want to hear the doctor rupture the sac without my husband there to hold my hand.  However, once they wheeled me into the operating room and were about to put me on the operating table, the anesthesiologist said that they’d talked it over and they felt that I could be knocked out if I’d rather.  Um, yes.  Put me to sleep and wake me up when this is all over.  Then we can deal with the ramifications of whatever happens in surgery.

Apparently putting me to sleep was exactly what needed to happen.  When I fell asleep and my whole body relaxed, my body kindof sucked the sac partially back in.   When the doctor went to push it back in, it was significantly smaller than it had been when he’d seen it four days earlier, making it much easier to push back in.  Once the sac was out of the way, there was a lot more cervix to work with, so he was able to get a really good cerclage in.

When the doctor told Pat how the surgery had gone, he was giddy.  It had gone so much better than he had thought it was going to.  This was the second time that God saved Gabriel’s life.

We went back home and I was on complete bedrest.  The ultimate goal was to make it to 36 weeks, then they’d pull the cerclage and I could deliver the baby in Juneau.  The more immediate goal was to make it to 24 weeks, which was viability.  Then we’d talk about whether or not I needed medivaced to either Seattle or Anchorage for the remainder of my pregnancy.  Since 24 weeks was going to be six days before Christmas, I was hoping to at least make it to 25 weeks, so that we could have a semi-normal Christmas at home with Bella.

Bedrest is lame.  Yes, it is something that you do to protect your baby, but it is still lame.  It’s hard to lay on the couch and ask everyone else to help you out by refilling your water when you feel perfectly fine and know that you’re capable of getting your own water, but you can’t.  Thanksgiving dinner was at our house, but instead of helping, I laid on the couch while Pat, my Mom, and all of the guests, including one friend who had just had brain surgery, cooked dinner in my kitchen.  I did have special permission from the doctor to sit at the table for Thanksgiving dinner, but I had to eat fast and then go lay back down the moment I was done.  The only thing that saved my sanity was that I could work from home.  But still.  Bedrest is hard.

On Monday, December 14, one day shy of 4 weeks on bedrest and 23 weeks 2 days gestation, I started having contractions.  I looked up the difference between real contractions and Braxton Hicks and everything lined up with Braxton Hicks, so I wasn’t worried.  Plus, I had an appointment in two days anyway, and I figured that I could just talk to the doctor then.  But when we went to bed that night, both Pat and I agreed that we hadn’t been this worried about the baby since the cerclage had been put in.

I didn’t sleep much that night.  Every time I was about to fall asleep, I’d wake up to another contraction.  At about 4am, I found a hint of blood.  We called the on-call doctor who told us to come to the hospital to get everything checked out.

When we got to the hospital, they quickly gave me terbutaline to stop the contractions.  They checked to make sure that sac hadn’t broken (which it hadn’t) and the cerclage was still in place (which it was).  They also did an ultrasound to make sure that the baby was okay.  Everything checked out great.  They were able to get the contractions to stop and decided that I had a bladder infection and a vaginal infection, which was irritating my uterus, causing the contractions.  They gave me two prescriptions to take care of the infections and sent me home.

Once we got home, both Pat and I felt a lot better about life.  We ate some breakfast and took a long nap.  We were just starting to think about lunch when I had another bigger contraction.  I wasn’t worried about it, figuring that the anti-contraction medication had worn off, but then I saw all of the blood.  We quickly grabbed our stuff and headed back to the hospital.

By this time, the contractions were coming pretty regularly.  I wasn’t timing them, but in the time that it took Pat to fill out all of the admission paperwork I had four.  That either means that they were coming really fast or that the admission process was very slow…  Once we finally got inside, the doctor was very concerned about the amount of blood.  They did the amniotic sac test again and this time they decided that the sac had broken.

Since I was only 23 weeks pregnant, staying in Juneau wasn’t an option.  They don’t deliver babies earlier than 36 weeks, sending them to either Seattle or Anchorage.  We just don’t have the facilities to take care of babies smaller than that.  If this baby had a chance of surviving, we were getting medivaced that night.  We told them that we’d rather go to Seattle, since we have a larger circle of people down there.

After having a long chat with the doctor about all of the potential things that could be wrong with the baby and making sure that we really did want to keep him, the doctor left to make some phone calls.  The thought was to send me to Seattle and then try and keep the baby in there as long as possible.  We definitely wanted to hold him in for four more days so that we’d reach 24 weeks, but other than that, as long as my body could do it.  He said that he’d seen people keep the baby in for weeks after the sac had popped, so that was what we were going for.

Eventually the doctor came back in and said that Seattle wouldn’t take me until I reached 28 weeks.  However, Providence in Anchorage would be willing to take me today.  We quickly made the decision to go north instead.  The nurses started getting me ready to be medivaced and Pat went home to pack us a bag and explain what was going on to Bella.  They also gave me the first of two lung steroid shots, which have to be given 24 hours apart.

Once Pat got back, the paramedics loaded me up into the ambulance and took me to the airport.  It was my first ambulance trip and they even used the lights!  However, my body didn’t seem to like the ambulance.  Every time they moved me or we hit a bump, I had another contraction.

My body really didn’t like the medivac plane either.  No matter how hard the flight nurses tried, they couldn’t get the contractions to stop or slow down.  It was hard to be have contractions on the plane also.  Pat was there with me, but he could only hold my foot.

We pulled into Providence around 9pm and they transferred me straight to labor and delivery.  I was put in one of the rooms that has a little door connected to the NICU, so that they can get the babies into the unit as fast as possible.  They quickly upped the meds to try and stop the contractions and then the doctor looked at the cerclage, which still looked good.  They did an ultrasound and found a placental abruption.  At the time, we had no idea what that really meant.

A placental abruption occurs when the placenta pulls away from the walls of the uterus.  This means that the baby is no longer connected to the mom’s body and is not getting nutrition or oxygen through the umbilical cord, which will cause the baby to die.  The only indication that this is happening is the large quantities of blood that the mom will pass.  However, often the baby’s head will block the opening and the blood can’t be released, so the mom has no idea that any of this is happening until the baby has already died.  In our case, we saw the blood and had contractions, so we got to the hospital before it was too late.  Once again, God saved Gabriel’s life.

Since it was clear to the doctors that I was going into labor, they pulled the cerclage out.  I think this was the first time that it was real to me that we really were going to be having a baby fairly soon, although I was still going to try and hold him in there for hours or days if possible.  But I knew that the cerclage was the only thing holding him in and suddenly it was gone.

For the next few hours, they filled me with as many meds as possible to try and stop or slow the contractions, but they kept coming.  Pat got a tour of the NICU and had long conversations with the neonatologist about what that was all going to look like.  All we knew was that he was going to be very little, but that he still had a good heart beat.  The doctor came in and told us that they would do everything they realistically could to save him, but it would all depend on how he came out.  I remember telling her that I understood that we might be taking him home perfectly healthy, he might fight for a few weeks and then we’d lose him, or he might not last five minutes.  But if it looked like we were going to lose him now, could she please bring him back so I could hold him before he died.

At 3am the nurse told me that they had used every medicine they had to stop the contractions and it wasn’t working.  The only thing left was an epidural, which might slow things down.  We still had many hours until he could get the second steroid shot, so I got the epidural.  That also allowed me to sleep for a few hours.

At 6am, the doctor came in to check me and said that I was dilated to 10 and asked if I was ready to push.  Um, no.  I was definitely not ready to push as I thought we were still trying to see how long we could keep him in.  But keeping him in was no longer an option.  They put in an extra IV in case I needed a blood transfusion and then told me to push.

I pushed him out pretty easily, since he was so tiny.  He came out still in the sac and with the placenta attached.  The doctor caught him and handed him to the nurse standing at the door to the NICU so fast that she didn’t even have a chance to verify that he was a boy.

And then we waited.  Strangely, I don’t remember being that freaked out right then because I knew that there was nothing that we could do but wait.  I was also on a lot of medication, so that may have played into it.  After a half hour, someone stuck their head through the NICU door and said that they’d gotten him breathing and that he was doing well.  She took my phone to take a picture for us so we could see what he looked like.

We got to see him the first time when he was about 2 hours old, after most of the effects of the epidural had worn off.  He was so tiny, but he grabbed my finger and held on tight.  The doctor explained all sorts of things about how he was doing, but I didn’t hear any of it.  All I could do was cry and look at my tiny little son.

Pat and I had talked about names, but we hadn’t settled on anything.  Back in Juneau, when they started getting me ready to medivac, I looked at him and said that we might actually need a name soon.  He said that he kept going back to Gabriel.  I thought about it a lot on the plane and once we got to Anchorage I asked what he thought of Gabriel William, since William was his middle name as well as his Dad’s middle name.  He smiled and it was decided.  After the cerclage, I’d wanted a name that meant God is Faithful or something like that.  I’m sure that name is out there, but I wasn’t able to find it and then we settled on Gabriel.  We found out later that Gabriel means God is my Strength.  William means Mighty Warrior.  It turns out that we picked the perfect name for our tiny little miracle baby.

So that’s Gabriel’s story.  He truly is a little miracle.  Three times he should have died before he even took a breath.  Then he was born at 1lb 6oz.  Now, eight weeks later, he’s up to 2lbs 12oz.  They pulled his breathing tube out when he was 12 hours old and haven’t had to put it back in.  They even took him off of the CPAP, so he just has a nasal cannula.  He’s been breathing room air from the beginning.  They’ll increase his oxygen sometimes when he needs it and then turn it back off when he calms down.  The valve in his heart closed up by itself.  His brain scans have come back clear.  The only issue the little guy has had so far is the hole in his nose, and that’s a pretty minor issue.  We’re not out of the woods yet, but God has made it pretty clear that He has big plans for this little guy.