Ruthie's story - born at 24w2d

I don't even know how to begin this post...I'm crying as I write it (I'm not really sure why...just emotional, I guess) and while part of me dreads writing it, I want to get it out before I start forgetting the little bit of it that I CAN remember.

We went back to the OB triage on Sunday afternoon, around 4pm. The bleeding had picked up a little and I was on the fence as to whether or not we should wait a little longer to see what happened or just go. It was a nudge from Above that told us to go, and go now. By the time we made the 30+ minute drive to the hospital, it was gushing. I mean GUSHING. My mom met us there and took me (via that awesome wheelchair) upstairs while Jay parked the truck in the Labor & Delivery parking lot. (That we'd just vacated not 48 hours earlier.)

Triage immediately called in the resident dr and they did the usual, then decided to admit me back to the High Risk section in the OB floor. They kept me on two monitors all night - one to keep track of any contractions I was having (and I was, somewhat) and one to monitor Sprout's heartbeat. Through all of this, she seemed fine - not always cooperative to stay in one place for the monitor, but otherwise fine.

On Monday morning, the dr on duty ("happened" to be the head of MFM) talked to us, quite frankly, about the fact that it would be best to keep me there for at least a couple of weeks. We had planned to put our foot down (okay, BEG) for them to keep me since we live so far away and this had been by far the most amount of blood I'd ever had. I settled in quickly to the fact that I was on hospital bedrest for at least the next few weeks to see how much more time we could buy for Sprout. All fine by me.

Monday night our world changed.

Jay went on into work and my mom had come to stay the night with me. All Sunday night I had been telling the nurse I had odd stomach cramping, really low and around to my back. She kept me on the monitors during the day Monday, but they showed I was not having any contractions. Around 10:30 Monday evening the pain started to pick up once again. I tried to brush it aside as just the uterine irritability that the triage nurses had said was probably pretty bad due to all the issues going on inside that poor uterus lately (baby, fibroids, bleeding, etc).

Around midnight, the pain was getting considerably worse and was obviously time-able. Again the monitors didn't show any contractions. I was given Tylenol and then oxycodeine for the pain but neither did much to help. The night nurse (loved her!) finally decided to call the resident on-call to see what she thought could be going on. Another check revealed I was dilated to 3cm....which meant I WAS having contractions. I KNEW that I was, in fact, knew that all those pains I'd been having since Sunday had been contractions. Why the monitors never picked it up, who knows.

They decided to take me back down the hall to L&D. Mom called Jay and told him to come back from work - we were officially in labor. And to be honest, at this point, I wasn't totally freaked out. I specifically asked if this meant delivery was imminent tonight and everyone said no. The next couple of hours are very hazy for me, and I'm still trying to piece it together from what Mom and Jay tell me was happening. I remember getting Stadol in my IV (and feeling like that medicine was "HAPPY birthday to me!" - great stuff) and from then on, I don't remember much. I do remember asking Jay several times if he was going to get in trouble for leaving work, and I couldn't finish a sentence because my mouth was so dry, and I fell asleep the minute the question was asked. I don't remember having more contractions b/c I was so knocked out, but I know that I did. They said I was coming off the bed in pain from them, but I really only remember the last two incredibly strong ones before the L&D nurse (or dr? no idea) checked again for dilation. I do remember her saying, "It's a 6. We're going to have to do an emergency c-section." I remember being in a hellish amount of pain while some nurse (or some stranger off the street, I don't know) explained to me what the risks of a c-section was, and the whole time I was wanting to scream at her to shut up and just DO it. I hurt so bad and I honestly have no idea what she even said to me or what I may or may not have agreed to do.

The next part is the hardest part to talk about, because I can honestly tell you I have never been so terrified in my life or felt like nobody was listening to me. I'm sure they were, but by this point there were a lot of medical professionals in the room and it was panicky. They moved my bed toward the door to go to the OR for the csection and I remember feeling an incredible amount of pressure and knowing we weren't going to make it. Something exploded (so it felt) out of me, I still don't know if it was blood or the water breaking or what, but it felt like all of my organs shot out of me. My immediate thought was it was the placenta abrupting and coming out before the baby, and I knew if that happened they would never be able to get her out in time. I remember saying (okay, screaming) this at people and whether or not they answered me, I'm not sure. I don't remember anyone answering me the whole time I was telling them we had to go NOW NOW NOW....I just remember feeling totally alone (I was NOT - Jay and my mom were right there the whole time but I was so out of it) and like all these drs and nurses were just taking their sweet time moving that bed. I remember crying and being in horrible pain while they ran the bed down the hall to the OR. I don't remember going into the OR, but I remember feeling that same pressure again and having the worst panic moment of my life - I knew she was coming out and they weren't ready or able to stop it. I do remember feeling her come out (okay, shoot out) and Jay said I was screaming bloody murder, but I don't remember that part. The last thing I really remember is hearing somebody say, "There's a live baby in the bed." I kinda went into shock after that. I vaguely remember Jay talking to me but I don't know what he said and he said I never responded, just stared at him. I do remember thinking "What just happened?" I knew she was out, the pain was gone, I had no idea where I was, what room I was in, what anyone was doing to me...nothing. The nurses made Jay leave the room - he said one nurse had come running out on her phone telling the NICU people there was a live baby in that bed and they were there immediately with an incubator to take her. They let him back in with me and the last thing I remembered was just being in total shock. It all happened so fast and while I wasn't in denial that I'd had her, I just couldn't come around to reality.

I don't remember anything that happened right after that. I don't remember being taken back to the L&R room for recovery or anything that happened after. I know my parents and my aunt & uncle were there....I don't remember anything that was said...I vaguely remember being taken back to the High-Risk room and transferred to that bed, then we all sat around waiting for news on the baby.

A little after 4am, someone took Jay and me to the NICU to see her for the first time. I've seen plenty of pictures of preemies and even pictures/stories of friends with preemies, but nothing prepares you for the first time you see your own baby in that sort of environment. She was so little and looked so fragile. They let us touch her and talk to her, and she was so perfect. She weighed 1lb 9.1oz and was 13 inches long. She had the bilirubin lights on over her and had on the little glasses and a white knit hat and the tiniest diaper you could imagine (that was still too big on her).

We were finally able to tell people the long-awaited name. No more "Sprout." We named her Ruthie Laurence Miller. My grandma's name is Ruth and my PaPa's name was Lawrence. We settled on that name well over a year ago, long before we were even pregnant. It suits her so well - a delicate little name for a delicate little girl.

The night of her delivery is so hazy for me, but at the same time there are things that I very vividly remember, some of which I would like to forget. I don't think I'll ever forget the true panic I felt when I knew she was coming out and there was nothing they could do to stop it. And while I know they were scurrying to do whatever had to be done, to me it seemed like they were moving in slow motion. I remember feeling like nobody was listening to me when I said she was coming. Whether they even answered me, I don't know - it was such a whirlwind for everyone.

Ruthie is a little fighter. When we were told in January that we would never get pregnant, we prayed. When we were told at 5 weeks that she was ectopic and we should get a D&C immediately, we prayed. (The next morning she was found to be right where she was supposed to be.) At 7 weeks when they told us there was a subchorionic hemmorhage and we would most likely lose her to miscarriage, we prayed. At 12 weeks when we went back for a follow-up ultrasound, the SCH was gone and we rejoiced. All of the bloodwork and screening tests on her came back perfect at every appointment, and we thanked God. At 19 weeks we had another huge bleed and the dr said they had no idea what was wrong - but every ultrasound showed a healthy baby. At 22 weeks we had an emergency ultrasound for more bleeding and cramping - the tests showed a healthy baby. At 23 weeks we went to the hospital for heavy bleeding - the ultrasound showed a healthy baby. At 24 weeks, I was diagnosed with a chronic abruption, a condition that could imminently take the life of both Ruthie and me.....but the morning after her birth, the dr came in and said she had no idea what caused this to happen - that placenta never abrupted that night...it was perfectly in tact. Had it abrupted, it would have cost Ruthie her life before they could have gotten in to save her. She said she just didn't understand what happned......but we do. This baby was meant to be here from day 1 and though she's three months ahead of her due date, she is here. She is our miracle baby and I want the world to know how special she is and how tightly she has been held in Christ's hands. There is no better place to be and we are so in love with her.