When I got to the hospital, they took me up to labor and delivery, they did a test and told me that my water had broken, I was 24 weeks pregnant, and my water broke, the baby can not survive to long without the amniotic fluid, but even if he stays in for a couple more days, his survival rate will increase, so they pump me full of magnesium, which is to help stop contractions, which I didn’t know at the time, but I was having them for 2 days prior, I thought they were just cramps, or Braxton hicks, which everyone said was normal, which is, but in my case, it was the real thing.
At this hospital, it was small so they did not have the equipment for babies that are premature. They put me in an ambulance, hooked up to all kinds of cords, and monitors, once again, there are both my mom and dad. They had no room for them because the monitors were taking up a lot of space, I remember my dad saying “it will be ok, we will be right behind you, we love you!” I remember a feeling of pure terror, I was so scared.
While in the ambulance, the contractions got so intense and they were coming about every 2 minutes, so the nice lady with me gave me some IV pain meds.
My parents had called the father, him and his mom had met me at the hospital, which happened to be right in the city they lived in, so they got there, waiting in the room for me to arrive. Then my parents would arrive soon after. The Doc came in, they did an ultrasound to try to determine how big my baby boy was. They pump me full of steroids to try to get the babies lungs ready, because this early on in gestation, they are not fully developed. I don’t remember a whole lot, but do remember them checking my dilation and saying, “ok hun, this baby is wants to come NOW!” “He isn’t suppose to come now, I’m not ready, he isn’t ready!” So with the father, and my parents, and a whole team of neonatologist in the room, There I was, pushing out this tiny baby, it didn’t take much, he was so small. He came out, let out a tiny little squeal and they rushed him away, I didn’t even get to see my baby. I remember my dad saying he was proud of me. Tears in my parents eyes, they just watched their first grandchild being rush away, so tiny, so fragile.
All I could do was cry, my beating heart was just ripped right out of my chest. “What happened? What have I done wrong during my pregnancy that caused this?” I smoked a little pot in the first trimester, but I stopped smoking pot and cigarettes by my 3rd month, I racked my brain, and could come up with nothing. The Doc said this kind of stuff happens, its nothing you did, we will run some tests, and see what may have cause this.
I remember so much of my family coming and going, my brother and sister, my grandparents, Aunts, Uncles, friends, even the father’s family, and of course, my parents. They barely left my side besides to go home, shower and come back.
The neonatologist came to speak with us, my baby boy, Austin John weighed in at 1 pound 5 ounces and 13 inches long. He is stable, but this is what they call the honeymoon period. He will seem like he is doing good for the first 24 hours, but he and you guys as well, have a long road ahead of you.
He was born May 19th 2001, and was not actually due until September 9th 2001. I was 23 week and 3 days along.
I’m not sure how much longer it was before they wheeled me down to see him, his father already went to see him, and had warned me, “he is very tiny.” We got to the NICU, we had to scrub everything, hands, nails, arms, then put on our yellow gown, and then they wheeled me threw the doors. There he lay… His tiny, little, fragile body, with his paper-thin skin, but 5 little fingers and 5 little toes, everything about him on the outside was so perfect, but internally, he was not fully developed. My whole being, my heart, my soul, everything I am and have is in that incubator.