Thankfully they never had to evacuate because they managed to hault the fire about 2 miles from the hospital. The smoke continued to hang over the hospital and surrounding area for days. We settled back in for the wait, but contractions continued, nothing could stop them.
On occasion my daughter’s doctor would do an ultra sound to see how our little Ava was looking. On this particular morning her doctor was very concerned with what he was seeing. Ava was still looking great, by my daughter's cervix had thinned out dramatically in just 2 days. She was told not to get out of bed except to use the restroom, not for anything else. Anxiety was growing as Ava was just at a little over 26 weeks.
Then I got the call one morning at about 9:00 AM.........It was my daughter and I could hear the panic in her voice. She was hemorrhaging severely and the nurse who was very concerned had paged my daughter's doctor on the PA system STAT!! He had already been in when my daughter called, and she could hear the stress in his voice. By this time our family had forged a real personal relationship with this man. He often spent free time just hanging out with us in my daughter's room.
I jumped into my car and headed for the hospital only to find the freeways were backed up bumper to bumper due to morning rush hour traffic. I felt in a panic at this point and tried to head down the coast which was nearly as slow. My husband who was closer headed to the hospital. I think that was the longest drive of my life.
I ran up stairs to find my husband and daughter both looking scared. They were getting ready to move our daughter to the labor and delivery floor. Her doctor came in and yes, he was very concerned, his voice actually shook as he spoke.We were settled into the new room and tests were run to see just where my daughters blood count was, keeping in mind it was already getting pretty low. Her doctor discussed with us the situation as he saw it. We were at a crossroads. Literally every hour that Ava could be kept in was good for her, but we had to now consider what the risks were to her mom and ultimately Ava's survival. Would one more day be worth this risk? We had grown to trust this man to the highest degree and it was decided the decision would be left up to him.
We waited quietly and sometimes laughed as our family often does under pressure. Her doctor stayed with us or very close by for the next 2 hrs while waiting for the results of the most recent blood tests. Then it happened.......as the doctor was sitting on a swivel stool, looking at a computer screen, he spun around and said, "we're going in now, your blood count can't wait".
The whole mood of the room changed in an instant. People started rushing around my daughter readying her for an emergency c-section. We had just moments together as a family in which a prayer was said, asking that our heavenly father look over our daughter and Ava. Please let her survive.
I knew that my daughter was in the best of hands and was going to be fine, my heart and thoughts turned toward our little Ava, her fight was just beginning. Our daughter was whisked away and we went to the waiting room where there was a large group of our friends waiting. At this point things were nothing but a blur both mentally and physically as tears flowed. I vaguely remember talking to people and pacing the floor, watching the clock constantly.
I don't remember how long it took, but the nurse who had been with my daughter in labor and delivery prior to the emergency finally came in. I was sitting in a chair and she kneeled in front of me and took my hands, with tears in her eyes, she said, "Ava's here, they are breathing for her". I could feel the room closing in, the pain was unimaginable.
A little bit longer and from across the room I see my daughter's doctor enter this very large waiting room. When he saw me he walked straight through the large group of people, and the stress on his face was really painful to look at. As he approached I am watching his eyes and every expression of his face trying to read from that what he was feeling.
He said it was the toughest delivery he had ever had. Due to the degree of irritation my daughter's uterus was under when he touched it with the scalpel, it contracted down around Ava in a death grip. He reached into grab Ava and she had been pushed all the way to the top, out of his reach. He could not get his hand around her. He knew though that the placenta had fully abrupted and now Ava was bleeding out and so was her mother.
He made the split second decision to cut my daughter's uterus top to bottom. Fortunately for some reason before he ever even made the first cut, he took some steps that he does not normally do. It turned out that having already taken those steps he saved himself critical seconds at this very crucial moment. He was able to now reach in, grab Ava out, and clamp the cord before she bled out. Now he could stop the bleeding in my girl. And he did, that was the easy part.
He is so sweet, he actually apologized that it did not go better. Like what he had just accomplished wasn't amazing enough. Ava made it to 26.5 weeks, my daughter was stable and he had done it without having to give her a blood transfusion. That was so important to all of us.
He gave me a huge bear hug and said he needed to go see how Ava was doing. He was worried, but her blood gases were amazingly good, better than a lot of full term babies, born under normal circumstances. That was a good sign to him.
Probably within a half hour, I was taken to see Ava. When I saw her for the first time, I feel into a puddle into Ava's daddy's arms...........
Monday, January 19, 2009
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
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..........
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..........
Friday, November 7, 2008
AvaBaby's Story of a Micro Preemie Part 1
The story of Ava’s arrival did not begin at her actual birth. It started about 3 months before with what seemed like another normal pregnancy. One day the phone call came from my daughter that there was spotting. For those of you ladies who have experienced this when pregnant, you know how un-nerving that can be. Often though it doesn’t mean anything is really wrong. In our case though, as we would eventually find out, things were seriously wrong in more ways than one.
An appointment was made with my daughter’s doctor, and he did the usual ultrasound. At this point, all looked well, and there was clearly a little heartbeat. We were sent off and told not to worry at this point. The spotting continued and at some times was rather heavy. We tried to do as the doctor said about not worrying but it was kind of hard.
We managed to stay away from the doctor for a few weeks, even thought the spotting was fairly regular. On returning, another ultrasound showed that while our little one was still hanging on, it appeared as if my daughter had a low lying placenta or placenta privia . What this would all mean was still not clear. Being that it was fairly early in the pregnancy, the placenta might move as it often does into a more normal position. We were also told at that time, that we were expecting our second little granddaughter. She was given the name Ava. I often thought of her as Froggie, because every time we saw her she was moving around. One time, when she was still very small, but clearly having arms and legs, she appeared as if she was free floating in a pond. She would sink to the bottom and push up to the top with her tiny little legs, like a little frog surfacing in a pond. Saw her do this a couple of times. We saw her often with ultrasounds, and even though her mom was barely even showing, she was VERY real to us.
When you are going through this, it is so frustrating, because you are told there is nothing they can even attempt to do to save this little one. It is not until you reach the 17th week of gestation that they really start recommending bed rest. When my daughter got there, that is what she did, but it was called light bed rest. For me, that meant that I would need to be the caretaker of my almost 2 year old granddaughter. As if all this wasn’t enough, my only son was getting married in a few weeks and I was expecting a houseful of guests for the wedding. The stress was starting to feel overwhelming.
Eventually the bed rest became more restrictive, and the spotting was getting much heavier. Still with each ultrasound little Ava was as wiggly as ever and growing right on schedule. We had one run to the ER when the spotting turned more to a hemorrhage. At about 19 weeks, someone had recommended that my daughter see a perinatologist, a doctor who specializes in high risk pregnancy. But the big question was who.
Finally the wedding guests arrived, and we were 2 nights away from the actual wedding. In the middle of the night we get that heart stopping phone call, my daughter is having what seems like contractions. I’m thinking to myself, please not now, my son is getting married in less than 36 hrs. Please don’t let us loose Ava now. We decided to head to San Diego’s Mary Birch hospital in the middle of the night. This is a hospital for women, with a very large high risk unit, and a team of perinatologists, with someone there 24/7. We arrived and were wisked upstairs and my daughter was hooked up to the monitors. We sat waiting for the doctor who is there doing his 24hr watch.
We sat there quietly most of the time, but at one point my daughter says to me, “Mom, if I loose her tonight, I still want you to go to Dana’s (her brother) wedding.” That was such an incredibly painful thought, not only for my daughter but, my son and his fiance. What a damper that would be on their day.The doctor came in, a very young man, maybe 35, but he had the most incredible bed side manner. Very sweet, he actually sat right down on the bed with my daughter. He examined my daughter by way of ultrasound and confirmed what we had already know by now. Placenta privia with a blood clot that was growing larger all the time. But as usual there was Ava, bopping all around. He said she looked very strong, and of a size he would expect to see at about 20 weeks gestation, that was good. He said that my daughter needed to make an appointment to see a perinatologist in the next week. She was put on severe bed rest, laying down all the time if possible. She was given a drug called Turbutaline to stop any contractions, and we were sent home, knowing that if Ava by some fluke was able to stay put, my daughter would be hospitalized at about 24 weeks.
Things were looking really grim, even though the doctor was trying to be very hopeful. He said it is important to try to stay positive. We tried to then turn our focus on to my son's wedding which was now just the next afternoon. Well, got to stop here, so please come back……… If you know someone going through an experience similar to this, send them here, they may find comfort in this story.
An appointment was made with my daughter’s doctor, and he did the usual ultrasound. At this point, all looked well, and there was clearly a little heartbeat. We were sent off and told not to worry at this point. The spotting continued and at some times was rather heavy. We tried to do as the doctor said about not worrying but it was kind of hard.
We managed to stay away from the doctor for a few weeks, even thought the spotting was fairly regular. On returning, another ultrasound showed that while our little one was still hanging on, it appeared as if my daughter had a low lying placenta or placenta privia . What this would all mean was still not clear. Being that it was fairly early in the pregnancy, the placenta might move as it often does into a more normal position. We were also told at that time, that we were expecting our second little granddaughter. She was given the name Ava. I often thought of her as Froggie, because every time we saw her she was moving around. One time, when she was still very small, but clearly having arms and legs, she appeared as if she was free floating in a pond. She would sink to the bottom and push up to the top with her tiny little legs, like a little frog surfacing in a pond. Saw her do this a couple of times. We saw her often with ultrasounds, and even though her mom was barely even showing, she was VERY real to us.
When you are going through this, it is so frustrating, because you are told there is nothing they can even attempt to do to save this little one. It is not until you reach the 17th week of gestation that they really start recommending bed rest. When my daughter got there, that is what she did, but it was called light bed rest. For me, that meant that I would need to be the caretaker of my almost 2 year old granddaughter. As if all this wasn’t enough, my only son was getting married in a few weeks and I was expecting a houseful of guests for the wedding. The stress was starting to feel overwhelming.
Eventually the bed rest became more restrictive, and the spotting was getting much heavier. Still with each ultrasound little Ava was as wiggly as ever and growing right on schedule. We had one run to the ER when the spotting turned more to a hemorrhage. At about 19 weeks, someone had recommended that my daughter see a perinatologist, a doctor who specializes in high risk pregnancy. But the big question was who.
Finally the wedding guests arrived, and we were 2 nights away from the actual wedding. In the middle of the night we get that heart stopping phone call, my daughter is having what seems like contractions. I’m thinking to myself, please not now, my son is getting married in less than 36 hrs. Please don’t let us loose Ava now. We decided to head to San Diego’s Mary Birch hospital in the middle of the night. This is a hospital for women, with a very large high risk unit, and a team of perinatologists, with someone there 24/7. We arrived and were wisked upstairs and my daughter was hooked up to the monitors. We sat waiting for the doctor who is there doing his 24hr watch.
We sat there quietly most of the time, but at one point my daughter says to me, “Mom, if I loose her tonight, I still want you to go to Dana’s (her brother) wedding.” That was such an incredibly painful thought, not only for my daughter but, my son and his fiance. What a damper that would be on their day.The doctor came in, a very young man, maybe 35, but he had the most incredible bed side manner. Very sweet, he actually sat right down on the bed with my daughter. He examined my daughter by way of ultrasound and confirmed what we had already know by now. Placenta privia with a blood clot that was growing larger all the time. But as usual there was Ava, bopping all around. He said she looked very strong, and of a size he would expect to see at about 20 weeks gestation, that was good. He said that my daughter needed to make an appointment to see a perinatologist in the next week. She was put on severe bed rest, laying down all the time if possible. She was given a drug called Turbutaline to stop any contractions, and we were sent home, knowing that if Ava by some fluke was able to stay put, my daughter would be hospitalized at about 24 weeks.
Things were looking really grim, even though the doctor was trying to be very hopeful. He said it is important to try to stay positive. We tried to then turn our focus on to my son's wedding which was now just the next afternoon. Well, got to stop here, so please come back……… If you know someone going through an experience similar to this, send them here, they may find comfort in this story.
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