Do You Believe in Miracles?

It was 5 a.m. and I was barely coherent as the nurse wheeled me in to see her for the first time. I remember taking the first look at my newborn daughter and thinking how small she seemed. She looked so frail and tiny. I could see her ribs and blood vessels through her transparent skin. She was a few hours old by the time I got to see her. She was on oxygen to help her lungs function. She had a tiny band around her head to cover her eyes from the heat lamps that had been set up to keep her petite body warm. They had put the IV in the top of her head. She had been lubricated with Aquafor (sort of like Vaseline) to keep her skin from tearing. The experience was surreal. There I was looking at my little girl in the incubator. She should still be inside my womb at 27 weeks gestation.(6 ½ mo)

My head was spinning as I began to realize what had just happened. I had been hospitalized 12 hours ago for a week of bed-rest. The idea of the journey ahead was equally mind-boggling. The first 48 hours will be touch and go. If she makes it through the next ten days, they do a sonogram to check for broken blood vessels and brain damage at that time. They’ll check her eyes once a month for the first year. Easter Seals will monitor her progress with regular physical check ups every three months until she turns five to track her fine motor skills and development.

Delivering my daughter three months early was a shock to all of us. Having a premature baby girl after having three healthy full term boys was certainly unexpected. We were blessed to have her but little did we know at that point in time how truly blessed we really were.

At our mid point prenatal visit we were referred to the specialists. The maternal fetal doctors told us the baby’s growth had slowed to an alarming pace. I was put on bed-rest immediately. We saw the high risk doctors every ten days to check the progress. On our third visit the doctor decided to hospitalize me for a week of more closely monitored bed-rest. I was admitted to the OSF ante-partum section [that’s the before delivery section of the hospital] about 2 p.m., September 13, 2000. The nurses helped me get settled in and took the baby’s vitals signs. The evening nurse said she would be back about 4 a.m. to check vitals. About 1:30 a.m. another nurse stopped in to say she was helping out on the floor since they were busy, and that she was going to go ahead and get the vitals now. She was having a difficult time getting the heart rate, she mentioned that everything was ok, but she wanted to page the Head Resident to do a quick sonogram. She was watching her watch and wondered aloud what was taking him so long. Once again she assured me that everything was ok. I was tired and unsuspecting so I was more curious than concerned by her behavior at that point.

The resident came bounding in with his portable sonogram machine a few minutes later and then things got a little crazy. He said “you time, I’ll count”. Then he announced “we’re going to delivery.” I was in a fog by then, wondering what was going on and how we could possibly be going to delivery when I wasn’t in labor. They unlocked my bed and wheeled me out into the hallway. We raced down the hall and through some doors to the delivery room. People were coming from everywhere, running to keep up with us. I started to shake uncontrollably as we were moving toward the delivery room. When I figured out that they were going to do an emergency caesarean I asked if someone could call my husband, who was at home with our other three children.

There were people all around me. One person was starting an IV while another was giving me a shot and someone else was preparing my belly for surgery. I could feel the cold cloth wiping across my abdomen. I felt the marker as they drew the line where they were going to make the incision. I was positive they were going to cut me before I was sedated. The next conscious thought I had was the nurse taking me to see my little girl.

It was not until a few days later that I heard ‘the rest of the story’. The head resident of the neo-natal team shared the following information with me a few days after Marly was born. The head OB resident had to perform the emergency C-Section because there was no time to wait for attending or my doctor to arrive. The neonatal attending physician was busy with twins, so the neo-natal team was also comprised of residents. By the time they got to Marly, her heart had stopped. She was blue and not responsive. They began CPR. After 2 minutes with no response, they administered epinephrine to her it was their last hope for any sign of life from her. Much to everyone’s surprise she responded. The resident said it was his first epinephrine response and he would always remember her. He said that it was a vivid reminder of why he chose to be a doctor.

Margaret Kimberly was born September 14, 2000, 2:20 a.m., weighing 1 pound, 9 ounces. She was 12 inches long.

If we hadn’t had the appointment on the 13th ...If we hadn’t been in the hospital that night . . .If the nurse hadn’t come in early to check vitals . . . If we hadn’t been at a teaching hospital where residentscan operate without an attending physician present . . .

We wouldn’t have Marly with us today...We wouldn’t have the only...granddaughter on my side of the family.

She’s seven and a half years old and full of life.She shows no signs of the early trauma in her life. We are truly blessed to have our little gift from God.

Now I ask you again, Do You Believe in Miracles?

Seed Newsvine

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