Great and Mighty Things, Part 3
Sometimes God answers prayers in ways that we cannot foresee and in ways that we do not expect. Such was the case for us. We had assumed that since Rachel had survived her harrowing birth, she would develop and grow as any other baby. But God had other plans - good and perfect plans for our little girl.
As time went on, my body adjusted to the new "normal." I did not have contractions or any other signs of continuing labor. Each day, the doctors granted me more and more freedom. I was allowed to go to the NICU several times a day to see Rachel. I could shower independently. One of my favorite privileges was that of daily visits to the therapy pool with all of the other high-risk moms at the hospital.
Two weeks after Rachel's birth, the doctors determined that I could go home, as long as I observed total bed rest. Although I was very happy to leave the hospital food and schedule behind, there were two problems with going home.
First, I would be leaving Rachel at the hospital. I would no longer be able to walk down the hall to visit her, to sing or talk to her, or even just to watch her. The nurses assured me that I could call them at any time of day, and they would give me an update on all that was happening. Of course, Mike would continue to come see her, morning and evening, every day.
The second problem was that we didn't have a home to which I could return! Because of the nature of a construction business and because of all the time that Mike had spent at the hospital with Rachel and me, we had no income for several weeks. We could not make our rent when February 1st came around. Mike and his parents had packed up our apartment while I was in the hospital. So going home meant going to my husband's parents' house. They were so gracious and welcomed us with open arms. My mother-in-love cared for me daily by cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry for us without a word of complaint.
Thus began my long wait. Days dragged by. I tried to fill them with word puzzles and games, phone calls to the hospital, naps, and TV shows. It was torturous to be away from my little one. And yet, I knew I must rest in order to keep my other little one in the womb for as long as possible.
Once a week, I traveled to the hospital for a check-up for Twin B and myself. Typically, the doctor would do an ultrasound and a 30-minute monitoring of the baby to make sure she was doing well. Then he would give me a vitamin and steroid shot, which was intended to help the baby's development and to prepare her for what would likely be a premature delivery, as well. I would visit Rachel at the same time.
Rachel continued to follow a roller coaster pattern. She would do extremely well for a couple of days, and then she would have a crash. Sometimes it was her heart; other times it was her lungs. Once she got an infection in her ventilator, which earned her some time in isolation.
Two concerns began to take shape. The first was her eyes. Because of the amount of oxygen she was requiring, doctors knew that her eyes would suffer. In fact, many premature babies end up completely blind because of this very thing, as the high concentration of oxygen causes the retinas to detach from the eyes. So this issue was carefully monitored.
The second issue was that it appeared Rachel had had a hemorrhage in the ventricles of her brain. Although this is common in premature infants, the doctors needed to do further testing to learn the extent of this bleeding.
Once the tests were completed, Rachel's medical team called Mike and I in for a meeting.
"We wanted to let you know about the results of our testing concerning Rachel's brain bleed. Unfortunately, it is not good news. These hemorrhages are categorized based on a scale of one to four. A one would mean that there was just a tiny bit of bleeding and very little long-term effect on the baby. Grade four means that the bleeding has been prolonged and significant, with a large area of the brain damaged. Rachel's bleed is a Grade 4 on both sides of the brain."
From the very first day of this whole ordeal, the doctors had tried to prepare us for every possible outcome for our babies. We knew that this was a real possibility, but it was still a shock to hear this news.
"How severely do you think her brain has been affected? What does this mean for the long term?" we asked.
One doctor replied, "Her bleed is very serious. We anticipate her future being very limited. She will likely remain in a vegetative state for the duration of her life. And that is if she even survives."
Mike and I immediately grasped each other's hands for strength and courage. Tears were threatening to spill down my cheeks, but I wanted to stay strong until the meeting with the doctors was over. But the doctor had more to say.
"In a situation like this, it is advisable that you terminate and look ahead to the baby you are still carrying."
There was a beat of silence as we processed what he had just said. My husband took a step closer to the doctor and said, "Excuse me?"
"Well, considering her prognosis," the doctor continued, "we would advise that you abort. In Colorado, this is legal until the third trimester, or 28 weeks. Rachel is only 26 weeks at this point. It really is the best thing for all involved."
Abort?! He was talking about our beautiful daughter who had been born two weeks earlier! I could look across the room and see her lying peacefully amid stuffed animals and hand-made cards in her incubator. ABORT?!
Mike is typically a very mellow, mild-mannered sort of guy. But that day, he let the doctors know in no uncertain terms what he was thinking. And I applaud him for it!
"You are talking about murdering my child! I have already asked you once, and I will not tell you again! You must do everything in your power to save our daughter's life. It is not mine, nor yours, to take away. Only God has the power to make that decision!"
The doctor did not seem ashamed at all of the offer he had just made to kill our baby. But he agreed to continue helping her in any way he could. Sadly, our trust in the medical team was diminished from that point on. But we knew that God was actually the One in control, and our faith was firmly grounded in Him.
The days continued to pass slowly for me. But eventually the days turned into weeks, and the weeks grew into months. We all rejoiced when I reached the 30 week point in the pregnancy. Every day gave us more and more hope that our Twin B would be born healthy and strong. I rarely, if ever, had contractions, so I felt confident that I was going to carry her to term.
Occasionally, after my weekly visit to the hospital, we would stop for dinner on the way home or swing by the store for a few supplies. One weekend in March, I thought I might go stir-crazy if I didn't get out of the house for a little while. So we attended a basketball game and a birthday party for Mike's youngest brother. It was a welcome distraction from the monotony of bed rest. But it probably was too much strain on my system.
The next morning, a Sunday, I woke up before dawn. I needed to use the restroom, but I didn't want to wake anybody up that early. So I felt my way out of the bedroom and across the hall. As soon as I flipped on the light in the bathroom, I knew something was wrong. I was covered in blood! I immediately ran back into the bedroom and woke up Mike. I quickly tried to explain what I had found, but I was crying and nothing was making sense. But it didn't take long for him to figure it out.
He called the hospital, and the doctor told us to come to the hospital as quickly as possible. They felt that sending an ambulance would just waste time. By this time, my in-laws had heard all of the commotion and were waiting to help us. Mom wrapped me up in a blanket and some towels and ushered us out the door. She and Dad promised to pray and wait anxiously for any word on what was happening.
All the way to the hospital, Mike looked for a police car that could give us an escort or take me in faster. But we never saw one the whole way! Needless to say, he drove very fast. We made the 45 minute trip in about 20 minutes!
Once we got to the hospital, Dr. Porreco was waiting for us in the emergency room. Immediately he did an ultrasound and was able to see that the placenta had detached from the uterus, but the baby was doing fine!
"Looks like we're going to meet this famous Twin B today!" he told us.
Although 33 weeks gestation was still early to have her, we were very excited at that prospect. The nurses helped me get cleaned up and settled into a bed, and then began the long, tedious process of labor, once again. The contractions I had were very sporadic and weak, so they ended up giving me medications to induce labor. But they had also given me an epidural. Dr. Porreco wanted to be able to do a C-section on very short notice, just in case anything went wrong.
And so we waited. And waited. And waited. We arrived at the hospital around 6 AM, and by 9 PM, I was only dilated four centimeters. The doctors made the decision that for the baby's safety, they would do a C-section.
At 10:20 PM, March 17, 1996, Sarah Elise entered this world. She weighed 3 pounds, 12.5 ounces, and she was 17 inches long. We thought she was so big! And she was indeed so perfect. Her face was perfectly round and her head was covered with wavy, dark hair. As they had done with Rachel, the nurses brought her up near my face so I could see her before she had to be taken to the NICU. She was pink and rosy and absolutely beautiful. I stroked her tiny face and held her hand before she was whisked off to the nursery. There still were concerns about her breathing, so the doctors needed to make sure that she was OK.
I immediately fell asleep, probably because of all of the medications in my system, along with the exhausting work of labor twice within nine weeks! When I woke up a few hours later, I said to my nurse, "Where is my baby? I want to see my baby."
"OK! OK! We'll get you to her as soon as we can. Just be patient!" she replied.
"Well, she is rude!" I thought. But later I learned that I had been crying and asking for the baby for over an hour! But I don't remember any of that!
I did get to see and hold Sarah soon after that. Mike told me that the doctors had tried to put her on a ventilator, but Sarah kept pulling out the tubes. So they had left her alone to see how she did, and she responded beautifully! They had left her with an oxygen tent for good measure, but she hadn't needed any other intervention.
I cried tears of joy and relief as I held my second beautiful baby girl in my arms. Emotion swept through my heart as I thought of all that we had been through up to that point. Above all else, I praised and thanked God for His amazing gift to us in the form of these two precious children.
More of this story will be told in the coming weeks, so stay tuned!