And to think, I never thought there was such a day until I gave birth to a premature baby 8 months ago. What I'm about to post is very difficult for me. I haven't really talked much about Aaron's birth except to a few people, even then, picking and choosing certain information that I thought was relevant. But, today, in honor of Prematurity Day, I will give you a glimpse of how prematurity affected me and my family.
Nearing the end of dental school and heading towards our 3 year wedding anniversary, Clayton and I decided it was the best time for us to become parents! Neither of us had any medical issues so there wasn't a second thought about waiting. I forced myself to wait the recommended minimum 10 days after first trying to take a pregnancy test. It came up negative and I was devastated, truly believing it was false. Two days later, I saw the faintest pink line and that was it, I was in love. I was always tired, no morning sickness and no food aversions. Really, I couldn't ask for a better pregnancy.
I had my first prenatal appointment at about 9w. The heart rate was great and it was amazing to hear that sound coming out of my belly. The doctor was concerned, though, because my uterus felt like it was 5 months pregnant. My options: multiples or a fibroid. We were excited and scared. Multiples, how could we manage more than one baby, especially as our firsts! And, a fibroid? Whaaat? I cried on the way to school. I never thought I'd hear ANYTHING negative about anything. Of course we were scheduled for an ultrasound immediately.
Our first ultrasound was much earlier than most peoples. We saw a tiny little speck on the monitor with a heart beating away. It was so beautiful to see our baby so early in its life. And, of course, there it was. The fibroid. The doctor was quite impressed with how large it was already, 9cm x 10cm. How big will it get as I get farther along? How will it affect me and my baby? It was all speculation. And, what ended up happening was never what was imagined.
For the next few months, I was having an ultrasound every 3 weeks, to check the growth of the fibroid and to make sure my cervix wasn't shortening (
incompetent cervix), which it never did. The fibroid did get a little big bigger, but remained steady once I was a few weeks into the 2nd trimester. An answer from God! We were finally in the clear. I found out shortly after that my sister was also pregnant, due only 4 days after I was. We will shop together, go through the experience together. They'll be like twins! This was her second baby so I couldn't imagine all the wonderful advice she'd give me as I progressed and wondered about every little thing "baby".
We made it to our 20 week ultrasound and found out we were having a boy! Finally, we were allowed to pick out a name. A boy! He will be the fourth generation Berry boy. Everyone was excited. My sister was also having a boy. What're the odds. Life was great and we were happy. Graduation was around the corner. I had job interviews lined up. Everything was perfect.
At 24 weeks, I celebrated viability day. At this point, our baby had a fighting chance to live if he was born. Not that he was going to be. But, if he was, doctors could work on him and he'd be fine. Woo hoo! It's a big milestone in a pregnancy. I never would've thought that I would give birth only 5 days later.
March 14th, 2009. I had trouble sleeping the night before. I summed it up to being nervous for my boards. Will I scale all the plaque off and add the right retention? Will I have contact? I didn't have to worry about my patients because 2 of them were family members. I wasn't in much pain, just discomfort. I had just had an ultrasound the previous week and everything was absolutely fine. It must've been nerves because there wasn't anything else it could be...right?
When I woke up to shower and get dressed, something felt not right. It wasn't labor, though, I was so early. So Clayton drove me off to school to let them know that I wasn't going to take the exam that day. I was going to the ER to get checked out and then home to relax. Hopefully I'd feel up to it and take the exam on Sunday. We headed down the elevator and Clayton went to get the car. I had a very sharp pain on my side and felt like going to the bathroom. Once there, I barely pushed and there he was. In the toilet. My son. Our son. I picked him up and sat on the floor. I needed to know if he was alive. I touched his hand and he moved it. I yelled for the security gaurd and she called EMS. "He's still moving, tell them to hurry".
Clayton came back and opened the door. I never would've imagined that the sight of a mother holding her child after birth would bring such terror to a dad's face. I didn't want him to come in, to see us like that. Our son's skin was dark. He was so skinny and small. He didn't look like the small baby I imagined when I thought of the word "preemie". He still looked like a fetus. What you see on those Discovery Channel programs.
EMS came quickly and cut the cord, rushing my son away. I found out later that the EMT just rushed him to the cop car outside and around the corner to the ER. That was probably the best and fastest thing he could've done and I am forever thankful for his quick thinking. As soon as my son was taken away, the tears came. I was no longer "in control". What happened to me after was a blur. Lots of doctors, lots of questions, morphine, pitocin. All I wanted to know was is my baby still alive. It took a few hours before I found out. Clayton was by my side the entire time, except for making some phone calls to family and letting them know what had happened.
Eventually, I was brought to a hospital room. My parents were there when the doctor first came in to let us know about Aaron. Yes, finally we could call him the name we decided on. They had rescuciated him, intubated him and warmed him up (his body temp was 86 degrees upon arrival at the ER). I heard what every mom wants to hear: his weight and lenghth: 1 lb 14 oz and 14.75 inches long! Pretty big for a 24 weeker. I couldn't see him yet, they were still working on him a bit. I was pretty composed. After speaking with people that came to visit me after the fact, they told me they couldn't believe my attitude about the whole situation. Honestly, I felt like God placed a shield of calmness around me to protect me from all the evil things I could be thinking. I knew and felt deep down that it was going to be ok. That Aaron was going to be ok. Of course, my belief was tested time and time again, especially those first few weeks.
I didn't see Aaron until later that night. I couldn't count how many tubes were in him. I couldn't even touch him because his skin wasn't fully developed and I could rub it off with the slightest touch. So, I just looked on. And prayed. It was a few more days before he opened his eyes for the first time and I knew he had more Egyptian in him Polish/Dutch. It would be two weeks before we could hold Aaron and take our first family picture. We celebrated every ounce gained and every tube taken out. After 57 days on a ventillator he had enough and took it out himself. I heard my baby cry for the first time and it made me cry (as I'm doing right now). We avoided NEC but had ROP, PDA and IVH. Bradys, apneas, O2 sats: I knew way too much about the NICU for a new mom. My day depended on the numbers on his monitor. I watched as woman after woman took care of my baby. And, as thankful as I was to them, I wished it was me doing what a mom should be doing.
I went about my school business as usual because Aaron needed me home when he came home. With all that was going on, I graduated on time and celebrated with my #1 motivation afterwards. It would be another month until his due date so I knew we still had a long way to go.
Aaron was such a fighter. The nurses loved taking care of him. He was easy. With no more school, the NICU became my second home. The nurses saw more of me than my family did. I knew the day was coming when we'd walk out of there and never come back, but for now, Aaron needed me by his side as much as possible. I couldn't imagine how the NICU nurses did it day in and day out, for years.
Being in that dark room with monitors beeping every second, with all the blood being drawn and xrays being taken, with all the paperwork and diagnoses being thrown around. I could barely do it for the 118 days we were there. NICU nurses are truly angels.
Eventually, that day came when we were ready for DISCHARGE, a word I only dreamed about. I was overwhelmed with emotions as they cut the ID bracelet I had on for 4 months and took the last of the leads off of Aaron. HE WAS COMING HOME. I couldn't imagine who in their right mind would release this baby to ME! We prayed we were ready. How would we manage without the wires that told us how he was doing? But we did. And we still are.
Today, Aaron is thriving like a champ. He weighs well over 11 lbs and is 22 inches long. He loves to "talk" to whoever will listen and is a pretty good listener himself. His favorite song: "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know". I've been singing it to him every day since his birth day and no other song calms him quite like this one does. He's progressing at physical therapy and wowing the doctors at his visits every month. Of course, we still don't know the full impact of Aaron's prematurity on his growth and development but we are steadfast in believing that that same God that saved him on March 14th; that was with him every single day in the NICU, protecting him and holding his hand when Clayton and I couldn't; that told me from day 1 that Aaron will be ok, is still with him and healing him.
So, how has prematurity affected me and my family? For one, it has strengthened our belief in God. Regardless of beliefs, we have yet to meet anyone who's experienced Aaron's story that can deny a that "greater being" had His hand in all of this. We've learned that no matter how perfectly we have things planned that God's plan may be different and we need to be faithful in following it. Aaron's story is for God's glory, there's no denying that. And, just when I start to think of all that prematurity has taken away from me (from third trimester antics, getting his room ready, holding him for the first time after birth, breastfeeding), I look at Aaron (currently sleeping next to me on the couch) and start thinking, "Wow!" Although I would never wish my experience on anyone, I am thankful for the person it has made me become and for the baby that is surpassing more than his initial 40% chance of survival.
I thanks you for reading this very long post and I hope that it gave you some insight into the life of a premature baby, a NICU experience, and a mom handling it all. If you feel so inclined, please donate to the
March of Dimes, an organization that has done, and continues to do, so much in increase awareness of prematurity, improve the survival rates of premature babies, and decrease the ever growing rate of premature births in the United States.
Believe it or not, as long as this post is, there is still plenty of other information about our exprience that just didn't get to write about. I am very open and willing to share Aaron's story (as every parent is with thier own children). Feel free to email me.
Thank you.
We made it to our 20 week ultrasound and found out we were having a boy! Finally, we were allowed to pick out a name. A boy! He will be the fourth generation Berry boy. Everyone was excited. My sister was also having a boy. What're the odds. Life was great and we were happy. Graduation was around the corner. I had job interviews lined up. Everything was perfect.
Eventually, I was brought to a hospital room. My parents were there when the doctor first came in to let us know about Aaron. Yes, finally we could call him the name we decided on. They had rescuciated him, intubated him and warmed him up (his body temp was 86 degrees upon arrival at the ER). I heard what every mom wants to hear: his weight and lenghth: 1 lb 14 oz and 14.75 inches long! Pretty big for a 24 weeker. I couldn't see him yet, they were still working on him a bit. I was pretty composed. After speaking with people that came to visit me after the fact, they told me they couldn't believe my attitude about the whole situation. Honestly, I felt like God placed a shield of calmness around me to protect me from all the evil things I could be thinking. I knew and felt deep down that it was going to be ok. That Aaron was going to be ok. Of course, my belief was tested time and time again, especially those first few weeks.
I didn't see Aaron until later that night. I couldn't count how many tubes were in him. I couldn't even touch him because his skin wasn't fully developed and I could rub it off with the slightest touch. So, I just looked on. And prayed. It was a few more days before he opened his eyes for the first time and I knew he had more Egyptian in him Polish/Dutch. It would be two weeks before we could hold Aaron and take our first family picture. We celebrated every ounce gained and every tube taken out. After 57 days on a ventillator he had enough and took it out himself. I heard my baby cry for the first time and it made me cry (as I'm doing right now). We avoided NEC but had ROP, PDA and IVH. Bradys, apneas, O2 sats: I knew way too much about the NICU for a new mom. My day depended on the numbers on his monitor. I watched as woman after woman took care of my baby. And, as thankful as I was to them, I wished it was me doing what a mom should be doing.
Today, Aaron is thriving like a champ. He weighs well over 11 lbs and is 22 inches long. He loves to "talk" to whoever will listen and is a pretty good listener himself. His favorite song: "Jesus Loves Me, This I Know". I've been singing it to him every day since his birth day and no other song calms him quite like this one does. He's progressing at physical therapy and wowing the doctors at his visits every month. Of course, we still don't know the full impact of Aaron's prematurity on his growth and development but we are steadfast in believing that that same God that saved him on March 14th; that was with him every single day in the NICU, protecting him and holding his hand when Clayton and I couldn't; that told me from day 1 that Aaron will be ok, is still with him and healing him.
So, how has prematurity affected me and my family? For one, it has strengthened our belief in God. Regardless of beliefs, we have yet to meet anyone who's experienced Aaron's story that can deny a that "greater being" had His hand in all of this. We've learned that no matter how perfectly we have things planned that God's plan may be different and we need to be faithful in following it. Aaron's story is for God's glory, there's no denying that. And, just when I start to think of all that prematurity has taken away from me (from third trimester antics, getting his room ready, holding him for the first time after birth, breastfeeding), I look at Aaron (currently sleeping next to me on the couch) and start thinking, "Wow!" Although I would never wish my experience on anyone, I am thankful for the person it has made me become and for the baby that is surpassing more than his initial 40% chance of survival.
That week, Aaron started vomiting a lot and just not doing well. It got to a point where we just had to call his pedi. We started just feeding him very small amounts (1 tsp every 10 minutes) until he was able to keep it all down. Turns out, after catching him chomping on his fingers like crazy, Aaron is teething! And all that saliva he swallows from chewing on his hands upsets his tummy. So, of course, I have been doing daily oral exams since then to see if anything has been peeking through. Not yet...
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