It took my breath away...

The breathlessness didn’t go away that night and I woke up still short of breath on Monday morning. I called in sick to work and went to my family doctor. I questioned whether I should call my OB but couldn’t possibly see how it could be related to my pregnancy. I spent nearly two hours with my family doctor and did my first breathing treatment. I have never had any type of breathing problem and was amazed by how quickly it came on. I left with a prescription and was told that I had pneumonia in my left lung and was to come back on Friday for a follow up. There were a few times that I had sneezed or coughed that I felt wet. I couldn’t believe that I was having weak bladder issues so early in pregnancy. At one point, I wondered if it could be amniotic fluid but quickly justified how stupid that sounded at 17 weeks. I called in to work on Tuesday as well, hoping that the prescription would soon kick in. I worked my half a day on Wednesday but came home immediately to rest.

When I went to bed that night, I cried myself to sleep. I knew that something was wrong but I didn’t know what it was. The breathing problem perplexed me but I couldn't justify that as the cause of my concern. It was the baby...something just seemed wrong. I listened to Parker for much longer than usual on the doppler. I waited until the next morning and I called my OB and made an appointment for later that Thursday afternoon. Much to my surprise, everything appeared to be fine. I was scheduled for an ultrasound the following Tuesday and I left the office trying to convince myself that everything was fine even though I couldn’t shake the feeling. I went back to work, still worried but feeling silly for not trusting my doctors.

At 4:30, I stood up and felt the familiar, yet petrifying gush. I ran to the bathroom to discover much more blood than normal. Work was over in a half hour and I tried to keep my mind focused. By 7:30, the bleeding had not subsided and I could feel that something really wasn’t right. I finally called my doctor who told me to go to the hospital. The ER department immediately took me upstairs to labor and delivery. The eerie feeling that something was very wrong was starting to take over. The hospital’s ultrasound tech came to my room and made small talk as she set up the machine. I could see the screen with Parker's image on it and carried on a conversation with her on my right and the nurse on my left. Upon looking away from the ultrasound tech for a moment, I noticed that she turned the screen completely out of my view. The nurse asked if I had noticed any amniotic fluid leaking. I immediately thought back to the few times the thought had entered my mind and then my mind began to scatter. The ultrasound tech wished me luck and left. My nurse told me that my doctor was on her way in to see me. That eerie feeling immediately turned to sheer panic knowing that if my doctor was coming in at 11:00pm to tell me what a nurse simply could have, that it was bad. My world stopped moving, my heart was ripped from my chest and time has stood still since that very moment.

My OB confirmed my fears that something was indeed very wrong. I had been leaking amniotic fluid and now it was gone. There was nothing that could be done. I would be given antibiotics and fluids through an IV and we would reassess the fluid levels on Saturday morning. Until then, we prepare for the worst but hope for the best. Her hopes were not high and her fears were very real. To say that we cried would be an understatement. I fell asleep feeling as if my daughter and my dreams had been ripped out from inside me. I spent all day Friday on the internet searching for a way to save her. I found several websites with PROM (premature rupture of membranes)support groups that gave me the courage to think positively and offered hope. I quickly learned why this may have happened, what could happen and what conditions, both maternal and fetal could be happening. I was surprised at how quickly Saturday arrived. It felt like the test that I hadn’t had time to prepare for. At 7:30am, Chris, the tech that I met during my ER ultrasound arrived. His small talk was different this time and the look in his eyes less casual than the first time we met, yet again he was tight lipped. We had to wait several grueling hours for the radiologist to interpret the ultrasound results and my doctor to come in and read it to me.

She arrived around 2pm and there were those words again; "No Fluid". The condition is known as oligohydramnios. She told us what would happen and that we would stop the fluids and antibiotics then wait. Either an infection would force me into labor or Parker would pass away from an infection and be delivered. No one knew how long it would take, but it was bound to happen. We were offered the option to terminate. Those words felt like a knife through my heart. I wanted to kick her off my bed for even thinking of it. I would never ever give up on my baby and she wasn't giving up either. I could still feel her flutters, although much less, and she had a strong heartbeat of 150bmp. We cried harder than we had on Thursday. Any glimmer of hope that we were holding on to was gone in a flash. I was at a loss for words but heard myself say that I wasn’t giving up my IV fluids and I wasn't walking around. They were Parker’s only chance. I asked about the procedures I had read of on the internet, such as amniopatches, Transabdominal Amnioinfusion, gelatin sponge plugs or the possibility of the leak self sealing and they were not possible options at this point because the procedures were experimental and not offered at St. Rita's Medical Center or know to be happening elsewhere. I don’t remember much more of Saturday or Sunday morning other than the fact that my cheeks stayed wet with tears. The hospital was only checking her heartbeat once every 12 hours, so Chad brought my doppler from home so that I could check her myself. The blue gel used for the doppler & ultrasounds is made by a company called Parker and the name is on the bottom of the bottle. Several people came to see us, called, sent emails and started prayer chains. I continued to have blood work done to look for signs of infection and my temperature was taken every 4 hours. I always asked what it was and was relieved to keep hearing that it wasn't going up. I had read about the risk, sepsis was one of them. At some point, I realized that I may have to come to terms with sacrificing her life to save my own. It was a decision that I would never willingly make. I was livid with God, fate, karma, whatever, whoever, my body, myself, etc. I wasn’t willing to give up on my daughter.

One of the responses on my internet forum posts directed me to the Society of Maternal-Fetal Medicine’s Website. I found a “contact us” link and was able to search doctors who specialized in this area in Ohio. All 60 of them that came up on the physician finder received a desperate email from us.

I hoped that at least a few doctors would reply and that maybe one of them would be willing to help me or know someone who could. My noon the next day, over 20 doctors had been in contact, one of which who referred me to a hospital in Pittsburgh, PA. Another 15 emails were sent to every MFM physician in that area as well. I received a call from a Dr. Marcotte at Good Samaritan Hospital in Cincinnati who was willing to do an amnioinfussion. There was also a doctor in Lexington, KY doing amniopatches. It was our only hope and bound to work. The amnioinfussion would find out where the fluid was going. If it was leaking, the doctor in Lexington could patch the hole (he is one of the doctors who did the study linked above on gelatin sponges). Sounded simple enough and it almost seemed as if the sun came out. I was certain that I was not leaking amniotic fluid and my OB sent me home Monday evening on bed rest with an order to drink nearly 100 oz of fluid a day. I would have the procedure done on Friday. On Tuesday, I was examined by my OB and my cervix was still closed and I was showing no sign of infection. On Wednesday, I had another private ultrasound done in Columbus and the tech was able to find a few measurable pockets of fluid but the hematoma was now a little larger than a quarter. I was disappointed to hear that it had nearly doubled in size in less than a month. I lay in bed hopeful that Friday’s amniofussion would find more fluid and no leak. The hematoma was still at the bottom of my worry list even though I now know that it may have been to blame for all this.

I buried myself in research on the computer. Sharing the information that I found w/ friends, family on MySpace, emails, text messages, and even perfect strangers in forum updates was all I had to hold on to. I was very optimistic and promised Parker everyday that I was never going to give up on her. I found websites and people who were dealing with the same problem as I who had healthy babies. For every 1 healthy baby were 10 who didn't make it or had serious health issues. I was prepared for the risks as well as the potential birth defects. I had never thought of myself as someone who would have a child with a physical or mental handicap, yet club feet or ear abnormalities didn’t bother me. I actually looked at them as a trade off for a daughter who could have a functioning set of lungs and kidneys. Even the risk of a mental handicap didn’t alter my thinking; after all she was still my daughter. Another day pregnant was another day closer to saving Parker’s life.