A few weeks ago my phone rang and it
was my publisher telling me that my book was going live. I knew that I wanted this to happen, I
expected this to happen, I needed this day to come, but like so many things in
life, we are not prepared for what we know is coming. This brings me to think about the birth of my
son.
Five years ago, my son was born too
soon. Nothing can prepare a mother for
hearing that your baby is going to arrive 10 ½ weeks early. Being six months pregnant, I, like many other
women beginning their third trimester, think to themselves , “Oh, how I wish
this baby would be born already”, which we don’t really mean!!!
It was my 37th birthday,
my husband had brought home dinner and cake. And as we finished dinner, I
continued to have contractions, which I had been having on and off for several
weeks. Actually, more on than off, but
as a first time mom, I didn’t know how serious these were.
I was off my feet and had just
started taking medication for preterm contractions, so I figured the medication,
will take some time to kick in. Later
that evening, my husband asked me, “How many times are you having these
contractions”? I replied about every 30 minutes or so, but again, not ever
being pregnant before, I didn’t want to be a “baby” about it, so I just tried
not to move too much. By 4am in the
morning, the pain was pretty severe and we called the doctor, who told me to go
to the hospital. We figured, they will
check me out, give me something to take the edge off and we’ll be back in bed
in a few hours. Nothing could have been
further from the truth.
Only minutes after arriving in
maternity, I was being monitored and a nurse came in and said, “you are fully
dilated and this baby is going to be born today.” My first thought was “no way”, “impossible”,
“this is my birthday”, “my baby is supposed to have an April birthday”. Then I got it!!! And I felt like my heart was
going to stop, I couldn’t breath, I think I was in total shock!
I looked over at my husband, who
looked shocked and scared, but only for one second!!! Then, he calmly,
confidently looked into my eyes, took my hand and told me that I would be fine!
At that moment, I believed him with all
of my heart! Of course, looking back now, what was he going to say?
Only a few moments later, the room
was filled with nurses, preparing the room for the birth of my son. Even now, these moments seem surreal to me.
Almost like they didn’t happen. But, I know they did. And, actually, it was not until this very
moment that I remembered this happening.
Not long after, maybe a few more minutes had passed, everything
stopped. Nurses left. And, one nurse returned and told us that the
doctor was on her way, I was going to be moved to another room and they were
going to administer two medications, which would buy us 12 hours.
One drug was surfactant (link URL),
which is used to facilitate the lung development of unborn babies. The second drug was magnesium sulfate (link
URL), which would slow down or totally stop the contractions.
I didn’t feel any effects of the
surfactant, however, the magnesium was a whole other story. As the day went on, my mouth was so dry, but
all I was allowed was ice chips and sips of water. The magnesium slows you down. In fact from about 6 am till 6 pm that
evening, I was in and out of a very calm sleep.
As I think back, this was probably the last time I slept so well. My husband never left my side and my rosary
never left my hand. There was something
very comforting about holding my grandmother’s rosary in my hand. This is a
rosary, which was my great grandmothers, given to my mom-mom and then given to
me.
Allow me to divert from my story for
a moment to tell you that this rosary is all-powerful… at least to me it
is! My mom-mom, who was the most
catholic woman I ever knew, believed with her whole heart that if you said the
rosary or even held the rosary, the blessed mother would be by your side and
protect you always! As a child, and even
as a young adult, I always laughed at this thought. That’s just something a catholic mom-mom
would say to her granddaughter. But, holding
that rosary in my hand gave me an amazing amount of comfort. A peace that is unexplainable!
As the day went on, things were
happening all around me, but I was unaware of anything except that every time I
opened my eyes, my husband was there by my side assuring me that everything was
fine. During that same day, my husband’s
boss, who owns his own plane arranged to have my mother and father flown from
Philadelphia to Greenville to be with us.
Of course, all I really remember is waking up and seeing their
faces. The kindness of so many was
overwhelming. I know that many people
came by the hospital just to reassure us that we were not alone.
Before I knew it, it was 6pm. Showtime!
My doctor came in and said that it was time to deliver my son. There is nothing that could have prepared me
for the overwhelming fear I had for my baby. I had never experienced anything
like this before or since. My unborn
son was only expected to be about 2 pounds. My teeth were chattering and my
body was shaking uncontrollably.
I remember my parents kissing my
forehead and telling me how much they loved me.
I could see in their eyes how afraid they were for my baby and I. I cry now as I think of the feelings that my
parents must have experienced. Any
parent knows that feeling helpless when it comes to your child is like your
heart being ripped out. My husband
stood by my side as nurses prepared the room for the birth of our son.
The doctor was talking to me as she
began to deliver my son. Of course, I didn’t hear a word she said and to this
day, I can’t remember anything except that only a few moments passed and she
stopped everything. Now, I remember like
it was only moments ago the words she spoke as she stopped the delivery. She said…”something is not right, I need to
consult with another doctor before we move on.”
The consulting physician came in, examined me and left all within a few
minutes time. The next thing I new, my
doctor was explaining to my husband and I that although I was “fully effaced”,
I was not at all “dilated”!
I didn’t know whether to be relieved
and thankful or angry and disappointed that this was the 2nd time I
was prepped for delivery only to be told that we needed to wait. Looking back, I was definitely relieved and
very thankful. In fact as I reflect back
to that hour, I am not only thankful to God for giving us more time, but I am
in awe of the clarity and composure my doctor had at that time. She handled the situation as if I were a
loved one. To this day, I am and will
always be eternally grateful that she stopped the delivery. I believe with my whole heart that she saved
the life of my baby that day, and perhaps my life as well.
As you can imagine, both my husband
and I were filled with anxiety and uncertainty.
We were beyond exhausted and trying to grasp what just happened and what
to expect in the hours and days to come.
The next morning, I woke up to my husband, who was sleeping on the most
uncomfortable bed in the world. He smiled at me, asked if I was ok and at
the click of 7am, nurses changed shifts and a new day began. I was told that
they were going to move me to a bigger room because I needed to remain in the
hospital until Joseph was born. Everyday was another day that Joseph
would grow and become stronger. Everyday was a gift. I arrived in a room
at St. Francis Hospital on the Eastside, which I have to say is more like a
hotel room than a hospital room.
Not long after we were settled into the room, monitors and all, my
parents came in and a sense of relief was shared among all of us. We were
told that the goal was to make it to 32 week. 35 weeks would be ideal,
but 32 weeks would be acceptable for our unborn baby to have the best chance
for survival. At this point, I was at 28 weeks. I thought... no
problem, we are in the safest place we could be, no distractions, no stress, and
I could definitely make it to 32 weeks. I would just need a few things to
keep me busy.
Before I could think about how I
would pass all the hours and days ahead of me, I needed some time to regroup
and relax. After all, I had plenty of
time (or so I thought) for finding things to keep me busy. As I laid there thinking of the prior day, I
remember thinking, …”was there something I did wrong, something I could have
done different,” which would have prevented this from happening?
As they say, hindsight is 20/20!!! If
there is, something I could share with other moms in my same situation, it
would be this… LISTEN TO YOUR BODY, LISTEN TO YOUR HEART! IF SOMETHING DOESN’T
FEEL RIGHT, ACT ON I! TELL YOUR DOCTOR!
I’m sure there are so many other pregnant
women, who feel that exact same way, as I did.
You don’t know if the slightest pain is important when you are pregnant
for the 1st time. I didn’t
want to be a baby about it and I certainly figured, just like many other women
do, that many women have babies every day, and they are fine. I will be fine
too! I rationalized preterm contractions
as being Braxton Hicks contractions.
Nothing to worry about, it was totally normal. I rationalized that the pain I was having was
associated to stretching ligaments, which is totally normal. I know now that it is not normal to be in
pain at 28 weeks. Pain during pregnancy
is a sign that something could be wrong.
So, here I am in this beautiful
hospital room, which would be my home for the next 10 weeks. I wanted to get out of bed to at least move
around and go to the bathroom, but as I tried to move out of bed, I realized I
could not move my legs. I remember
thinking that this was definitely a problem.
Besides all the other major issues we are trying to deal with, now, I
have to announce to a room full of family and nurses that I can’t feel my
legs. I thought to myself, “this is not happening, I just need to focus
and stand up,” but I couldn’t! I didn’t know whether to laugh or cry, but I had
to pee so badly, I grabbed my mom’s arm on one side and my step mom’s other arm
on the other side, and they managed to drag me into the bathroom. I couldn’t stand on my own and I don’t
remember how they did it, but I did get to pee!!! Thank you Jesus! Getting back to bed was even more fun,
because they had to lift my legs onto the bed. Not so easy when I’m 6 months
pregnant and I’m supposed to move gently so that nothing causes a
contraction. You just have to laugh!
Once settled back in bed, we decided
we should find out how serious this leg thing was. Clearly, this was not normal. Only a few
moments passed and I was reassured, that the magnesium, was the cause of my
temporary paralysis. I was assured that once I was taken off of this drug, I
would have full use of my legs again.
What a relief… I knew I needed my legs to push this baby out…eventually!
By now, things are settling down and
everyone is relieved to know that mommy and baby are ok and we are being taken
care of by the best doctors and nurses in Greenville. We begin our plan to get everyone back home
to Philadelphia. After all, no baby
should be here for at least 4 more weeks, probably more like 10. Everyone should go back to their homes and
families and carry on business as usually.
I am going to be at St Francis Hospital for the next 10 weeks, preparing
for the arrival of Joseph Nicholas sometime in late march to early April. Only God knew that was far from the
truth.
By the end of that day, which is only
day 2, all plans were made and parents were being transported to the Spinks
hanger to be flown back to PA, courtesy of Stewart Spink’s airplane. But wait! Since Phil (the pilot) is going to
be in PA, my husband has this wonderful idea of having someone meet him at the
plane with cheesesteaks and hoagies from Philly. Yes, it’s true… Philly does
have the best cheesesteaks and hoagies in the world… So, we can’t miss this
opportunity to have cheesesteaks and hoagies from Philly directly flown into
Greenville just for us!!! Now that’s delivery!!! Believe me, at this moment, I
couldn’t believe we were talking about cheesesteaks and hoagies when only 24
hours ago, we were talking about the life and death of our unborn baby.
Day 3 in the life of my unborn baby…
I must have fallen asleep, because all I remember is waking up to the smell of
South Philly. That’s right…the smell of
Cheesesteaks and Hoagies. I just laughed
and laughed. My husband actually arranged
it perfectly and the Storti family shared the best cheesesteaks and hoagies
with the nursing staff on the 3rd shift that night. The maternity ward never smelled so good… Even in the middle of the night, I had to have
a bite!
As Day 4 and the following days moved
on, I was limited to walking to the bathroom and back, I was not allowed to
stand for more than 10-15 minutes at a time, enough to shower and brush my teeth…
and then back to bed. My loving husband
had arranged people to come and visit me as often as possible. He was trying to think of anything that would
help me pass the hours, a DVD player, a steady stream of books, magazines,
puzzles and anything else which would help pass the time. I expected to be there for the next 10 weeks.
Of course, God had other plans… only
a few days later, just as I was settling in and had come to peace with the fact
that I wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, I started to have contractions. This was to be expected and the nurses
quickly came to my side with additional medications to control the
contractions. This worked for a few more
days. On the evening of Wednesday,
January 24th, I felt something different. I felt the pain that feels
like a knife is being stabbed into your tailbone. Any mother knows what I am talking about!!!
This is a pain that takes your breath away!
I told my husband to call the nurse, and immediately, the nurses gave me
something for the pain and called the doctor.
Since it was rather late that night, the nurse told me that the doctor’s
instructions were to keep me comfortable, give me something to help me sleep
and she would be in to see me the following day!
I did sleep very well that night, and
that would be the last time I would have the opportunity to sleep like a
baby!
On Thursday, January 25th,
2007 about 2pm in the afternoon, my doctor came into my room to examine
me. Immediately, she looked at me and
told me that she could see the baby’s head. He had dark hair just like
mine. She calmly told me that she was
going to confer with the advanced maternal obstetrician. This is just a fancy name for an obstetrician
who specializes in births to women of my age.
Only a few moments passed when I was
told that I should call my husband because Joseph would be born today, most
likely in the next few hours. She said
this so calmly, as if I should let him know that he should probably wrap things
up at the office and head over to the hospital.
For some reason, I didn’t feel any urgency, but she overheard my conversation
with my husband and told me that he needed to come immediately. I remember laughing because we had been at
this same place a couple of times before, so I didn’t know if she was really
serious. The drugs I was given surely
had an impact on my sense of urgency. Now I know, she was VERY serious.
Before I knew it, Stan was by my
side. Hearing the urgency in her voice
in the background, he got the message to move quickly.
Within an hour or so, the room was
being prepared for the birth of Joseph.
I had Stan by my side and my rosary was in my hand. I was ready.
Epidural time… I had no intention of going the natural way. Actually, nothing up until now had felt
natural, so why start now.
Once the epidural was done,
everything was ready and it was time to push.
As I began to push, nothing happened.
I could not feel the urge to push. I was given medication to help me
relax and stop the contractions. I kept
hearing the words…”Push, push, push” and I felt like I was pushing with all my
might, but nothing was happening. A
couple of moments passed (feeling like hours to me) and still nothing. The monitor for my baby’s heartbeat indicated
that his heart rate was dropping. I
could not focus on pushing as I was so focused on the dropping heart rate
number. About 10 seconds passed, when my
doctor informed me that we were going to need to do an emergency C-section,
immediately because the baby’s heart beat was dropping. Within seconds, the nurses had my bed out the
door, running down the hallway to the operating room. My dear friend, Jolene, who has been like a
second mom to me since I moved to Greenville, was in the hallway waiting. I can only imagine the horror she felt as she
saw what was happening. No words, no
explanation. She saw the nurses, doctor, my husband and me on my bed speeding
past her outside the room to the operating room. She had no idea what was going on. To this day, I can only imagine the thoughts
running through her head. Although she
is not my biological mom, she was a mom to me in every way that counts for the
previous two years. To any parent, you
can only imagine how she must have felt.
Upon entering the operating room,
Stan was given scrubs to put over his clothes, but he never left my sight. All I could do was focus on his face. I was absolutely terrified. The only thing,
which gave me any comfort, was looking into his eyes. Surely, he was as terrified as I was, but he
was so reassuring and strong for me.
I remember how quickly everyone was
moving. I recall the doctor wiping my
stomach with something very cold and her asking me if I could feel it. I could still feel the sensation of the cold
on my stomach, but I remember like it was yesterday her words to the nurse. She said, “I don’t have anymore time”. With
that, I felt the knife into my belly, but I didn’t care. God has a way of taking care of everything,
because I didn’t feel any pain, just the pressure from the knife. Of course, it didn’t matter if I did feel the
pain. All I wanted was my son to be
born. Within moments, I heard the
softest, faintest little cry of my son.
The nurse held him up in her hand.
His body was so tiny that his whole body fit into the palm of her hand. His little arms and legs were dangling
through her fingers. All I could think was
how tiny he was. In total amazement, the
nurse announced that he was breathing room air.
What a miracle! How could this little baby be breathing on his own? It
was nearly impossible. Only God could give him the strength to breath. At 4:15pm on January 25th, 2007,
my little miracle baby was born. He weighed 2lbs., 13 oz.
I don’t remember much in the moments
that followed. But I do remember hearing
Joseph’s small cry, hearing my husband tell me how much he loved me and that
Joseph was born. I began to cry and feel
like I could not breath. I was shaking and coughing. The next thing I felt was a mask being placed
over my nose and I fell asleep.
I woke up in my hospital room. The lights were dim and the room was quiet. I
immediately began to panic because I didn’t see my baby or my husband. As I came to, Jolene was sitting beside
me. She gave me a picture of Joseph. She
told me that Stan was with Joseph in the NICU and he was doing fine. A sense of peace calmed me. I recall being in a lot of pain and my body
feeling so cold. Jolene placed her warm, loving hands on my face. With mothering love, she held my cheeks in
her hands to keep me warm and reassured me that I was fine and so was
Joseph. To this day, I will cherish her
for the calm, loving way she held me that evening. Stan had to be with Joseph in the NICU and
all of our family was back in Philadelphia.
Jolene never left my side.
Holding on to Joseph’s picture, I was
in and out of sleep. Nurses came in to
tell me that Joseph would have to be transferred from St. Francis Hospital to
the NICU at Greenville Memorial Hospital because he would require a level one
NICU. Stan would stay with Joseph the whole time, while Jolene would stay with
me. I was to be transferred to
Greenville Memorial Hospital as well to be with Joseph and Stan.
After a few more hours had passed,
Joseph was stabilized. He would need to
remain in an incubator and was ready to be transported via ambulance to
Greenville Memorial. Before leaving, the
transporters and nurse brought Joseph (in incubator) into my hospital room for
me to see. Seeing Joseph sleeping so
peacefully was almost surreal to me. God
had given me this perfect little baby.
Although he was extremely tiny, he
was so perfect. He was sleeping with his face looking toward me. He had the smallest little diaper I ever saw
on him and it was still too big. He had
a pacifier, which had been cut in half so it fit under his little nose, which
he was sucking on. I felt love like never before. There are hardly words to explain the love I
felt for him. It was overwhelming. I
didn’t want him to leave. As happy as I
was that he was born and he was healthy, I was brokenhearted that he would be
taken from me so soon. I wanted to hold
him, touch him, kiss him, but all I could do was look at him. I cry as I write this today, just as I cried
at that very moment. Tears of joy and tears of sadness overcame me.
While I waited for the time to come
for me to be transported to Greenville Hospital, I held onto Joseph’s
picture. I must have looked at it a
million times. It was all I had of him
for the time being. Sometime close to
11pm, I was told that the ambulance had arrived and within 30 minutes or so, I
would be leaving and would soon be with my husband and son.
Right on time, the transporters
arrived and within a short amount of time, I arrived at Greenville
Memorial. Just knowing that I was at the
same hospital as Joseph gave me a sense of relief. I was brought to my hospital room at a little
past midnight on January 26th.
Upon settling in, the nurse asked me if I would like to see Joseph in
the NICU. Overjoyed, I responded, “YES”,
of course!!! The nurse put me in the
wheelchair with pillows all around me and wheeled me to the NICU. I recall being in a lot of pain as I was wheeled
down the hallway, until the moment I saw my baby. As soon as I saw him, my pain
disappeared! Up until this moment, I
felt uncertain as to whether Joseph would survive. However, the moment I saw him, I knew with
certainty that he would be just fine. I
can’t explain it, I just knew. I felt as if God had taken away all my anxiety,
uncertainty, pain and sadness and replaced it with love and tranquility. It was a rough beginning, but a miraculous
ending!
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