AvaBaby's Story of a Micro Preemie Part 2

Some how we managed to make it to the wedding. Ava's mom managed to be there as well. She sat through the whole thing. When it cam time to dance with my son, the tears flowed rather heavily. It was such a relief that we made it through their special night and it was beautiful.

The days following the wedding crept by very slowly. Wanting time to fast forward to a point where Ava would be safe if she was born. I was with my daughter all day long until Ava's daddy would arrive home. Then in the evenings there were constant phone calls as my daughter was experiencing yet another frightening symptom. Contractions stopped and started and there were bouts of stabbing, knife like pains and then hemorrhage.

There were numerous visits to her new perinatologist, the doctor we had met in the hospital that night before the wedding. There were regular ultrasounds and each time the grave scenario became more clear. There was actually a very large quantity of blood inside of the sac too. You could see it because it sparkled like glitter. The clot was always a little larger and then the doctor realized that not only was there placenta previa, with a blood clot underneath, but the cord was attached not in the center of the placenta like it should be, but right on the edge.........the edge where the blood clot was right underneath...........Nothing was going right for this little girl, but some how she still looked strong and perfectly healthy.

Ava managed to stay put and seemed to be doing well up until the 24th week where she was now considered viable, meaning able to possibly survive outside of her mother. The contractions were more consistent and were not controllable with the Turbutaline she had been given. The doctor now wanted my daughter admitted into the hospital, possibly for the duration. That was an incredibly difficult moment, because it meant leaving her not yet 2 year old little girl, my first granddaughter.

We fished our way through evening rush hour traffic, and it seemed like there was nothing but brake lights in front of us. Anxiety was high, as the contractions were getting stronger and stronger and it seemed as if the drive was taking forever.We finally arrived and my daughter was immediately put in her room. Her doctor happened to be the doctor on for 24 hours that night and he came right in and ordered steroids shots. They give steroids to pregnant mothers under these conditions. The steroids mature the unborn child's lungs for breathing and their brain to attempt to prevent brain bleeds, all of which can be devastating problems.

It was quite a relief to have actually made it to the hospital where I knew that my daughter's doctor would be on constant watch there, and just minutes away. This was the best place to be if we were going to be able to save Ava's life. We prepared for the long haul and the goal would be to get Ava to 34 weeks.

Time continued to creep by ever so slowly. Contractions still escalating, more aggressive measures being taken nearly every day to try and stop the new surge. Meanwhile my daughter's blood count was dropping ever lower. This was of grave concern because my daughter as well as all of the family on both sides are Jehovah's Witnesses and blood transfusions are not an option.

My daughter had discussed this issue with her doctor before he became her primary many weeks earlier. He felt that he was up to the challenge and would stand behind her no matter what her decisions. It was going to prove to be a tremendous challenge for this young doctor, and the first experience like it for him.

We felt confident in his cutting edge skills, his knowledge, and his compassion. If anyone was going to be able to do this without blood, it would be him.When my daughter was admitted, orders went out as well to keep track of every drop of blood she lost. He monitored her blood count on a regular basis, but being very careful not to tax her already diminishing blood volume.

The following day, a NICU/Neonatal Intensive Care Unit doctor came up to speak with my daughter and tell her what the situation would look like if Ava was to be born right then. Her chances of survival were about 60% and if she survived she would likely have some profound problems, like mental retardation, cerebral palsy, etc. The grim details left us feeling scared and fighting hopelessness. But, every day that Ava stayed put, the chances for a good outcome increased.

Then the winds changed again, and I do mean literally. The southern California Santa Ana winds began to blow. Do you remember the fires in San Diego 4 years ago? Well we were there, right in the middle of the fire storm. For several days fires had been springing up all over San Diego Co. People's homes were burning in massive numbers. It was really a very sad state of affairs.

It was a Sunday morning, still hot, dry and windy. There was no let up in sight. A fire that had started in the mountains of San Diego had worked it's way closer and closer all the way to the City of San Diego, burning everything in it's path, jumping freeways as if they weren't even there. Other fires started due to various reasons throughout the county and areas were being evacuated in mass. By about 2 pm the smoke was acrid over the city of San Diego and people started leaving town, heading north to get out of the smoke.

My husband called me to tell me that he had just driven into a solid wall of thick smoke when heading south to visit our daughter. I thought it interesting but couldn't see it from our house and had no idea how bad it really was until I left for the hospital a couple of hours later. The traffic was insane heading north and the freeway that I needed to travel on to get to the hospital was closed due to smoke and the fire being so close. It was closing in on the city. That was unbelievable to imagine. It was actually only about 2 miles from the hospital.

I ended up going down the coast highway, the traffic was a snarl there too. I finally found my way to the hospital through the dense smoke. It was such an earry feeling. Everything was dark in the middle of the day and ash was falling like snow. I parked my car and walked through the empty parking garage and into the empty lobby of the hospital, where everyone inside was wearing masks in order to breath. The smell of smoke was heavy inside of the hospital even as I went up to my daughter's room. It was uncomfortable to breathe. All of the nurses were wearing masks and I entered the room to find my daughter and her dad wearing masks as well. Tape had been put around all of the window seams and towels up against the bottom of the door to try to keep the smoke out. That was a loosing battle.

The hospital was in a state of emergency and beginning to make plans to evacuate. Can you even imagine the kind of undertaking that would be? This is a hospital for women, with a whole floor dedicated to pregnant mom's who are at high risk and on strict bed rest. There is a NICU down stairs with at the very least 60 preemies of all sizes. Micro preemies hocked up to all kinds of life saving equipment. That doesn't even include the full term babies and their moms. The plans were to move all of those critically fragile preemies and mom's to a huge medical naval ship called the Mercy docked in San Diego's bay. Unbelievable, how would they ever manage this monumental feat?

I'll tell you how this ended later..........