Good morning friends.  This edition of Miracle Baby Monday is brought to you by Mikaela.  She is currently 32 weeks pregnant with twins and her story is truly a miracle.

A twin pregnancy

Good afternoon friends!  Miracle Baby Monday is here and this guest post is brought to you by my lovely mommy blogger friend and fellow mama of preemie twins, who you can find at The Nitty Gritty Mommy.  She is a very gifted writer and I am very fortunate to have her here today sharing her story.  Rather than give you the play by play of their NICU journey, she talks about the emotional aspect of being a mother of preemies.  She echoes my sentiments exactly in this beautiful narrative.

why me? A journey

This edition of Miracle Baby Monday is very special to me because unlike the previous two mamas, I have never met Isabella’s mommy.  Rachel found her way to me through another blog and had the courage to email me, a complete stranger, her family’s beautiful miracle.  She, like Branwyn and Erika, wanted her story of hope and inspiration to be shared with the world.  Thank you, my dear Rachel, for your faith in me to deliver your message.  

Isabella is the youngest preemie I’ve had to opportunity to encounter.  Born at a mere 23 weeks 3 days, this little girl is remarkable.  Rachel’s words are powerful and strong, her dedication to her daughter unquestionable.  After her daughter was moved to a private room, Rachel made the decision to spend every night in her room, sleeping on an uncomfortable couch.  I maybe spent 3 nights in the hospital while the boys were there so Rachel is definitely a hero in my book.  I will leave you now with the story of Isabella.

Isabella

“My daughter is a miracle. Her entrance into this world was the scariest day of my life. People kept telling me congratulations and I kept thinking what are we celebrating. Nothing was how I had imagined it would be. I didn’t experience my water breaking, or breathing through labor pains as I walked into the hospital with a giant belly. My pregnancy ended astonishingly early. But I am so blessed to have had the opportunity to walk this path of prematurity. It has changed everything about me, and has given me the gift of living in the present.

I found out I was pregnant in December of 2009. It was a complete shock for my husband and me. We were not trying to have a child, but we weren’t trying to prevent it either. We had been doing this for 16 years, and we just thought we had pretty good timing! I almost fell over when I saw those 2 pink lines. It took me a few days to adjust to the idea of being a mom, but I was almost instantly attached to this new life growing inside of me.

I was sick for the first few months, not the throw up kind of sick, just the nauseous, I feel like I’m going to throw up sick-and it lasted all day long. Other than that, my pregnancy was progressing normally. I was labeled “advanced maternal age” at 35, and also noted to have a few fibroids, but I was told neither of those things would interfere with my pregnancy.

Everything changed at my 20 week appointment. My husband and I were thrilled to find that our baby girl was looking perfect. However, we were confused and scared when our OB told us that my cervix was shortening. It was measuring 1.7cm, but she wasn’t too concerned as the cervix can be dynamic and can change. We made a plan to come back the following week for a re-check. Foolishly, I decided to attend that appointment alone, convinced that everything would be fine. Unfortunately, it was considerably worse and I was wheeled out of the office and told to go directly to the hospital. I was 20 weeks 5 days, 1-2cm dilated and 80% effaced.

Thus began 19 days of hospital bedrest. They weren’t quite sure if I had incompetent cervix or preterm labor so they treated me for both, positioning my bed with my head angled down and hooking me up to an iv of magnesium. It’s hard for me to remember those days. I wavered between extreme optimism and unbearable gloom and doom. I was sick from the magnesium, petrified that I was never going to see my baby alive. I was angry and scared and sad. After 11 days on prenatal I was moved to labor and delivery because I was now 3cm dilated and they weren’t sure how much longer I was going to last. I prayed and begged and pleaded to make it many more weeks. I would have given anything to stay pregnant…but I only made it 8 more days. On May 2, 2010 Isabella Maria was born via c-section. She weighed 1 pound 6 ounces and was 11 and ½ inches long. She let out 2 little squeaks…pretty good for a baby who only gestated for 23 weeks and 3 days.

Now began the NICU journey. The days after I gave birth are kind of foggy. I don’t really remember, but apparently they wheeled me in my bed into the NICU to see Isabella once she got stabilized. My husband said I just began sobbing uncontrollably and they had to wheel me out. I was so afraid of my daughter. I was afraid to love her even though I already did. I didn’t want to touch her. I could barely bring myself to go into her room. In fact, they put a chair in the hall just outside her room for me. When I went to visit I would sit in the chair and sob. The pain is really indescribable and I’m crying now just typing these words, feeling those feelings all over again. I quickly learned that each moment my daughter was here was a gift and that all I could do was show up for her. One step at a time I walked through the NICU and the days got easier. I re-opened my line of communication with God and came to trust that things were really out of my control…it was between God and Isabella.

When Isabella was ten days old she developed an infection. The first indication that something was brewing came from her increasing oxygen needs. She was on the oscillating ventilator and they had to keep turning up her oxygen until she was at 100%, but her saturations kept dropping. The doctor began discussing our options with my husband, as I was at home that night. He told my husband that the last option would be oral steroids, but that there were a lot of side effects from that treatment. Fortunately, she began to improve with antibiotics, and by the next day things were turning around.

On May 31^st, 29 days after Isabella was born, I was able to hold her for the first time. The nurses had been trying to get me to hold her for a few days, but I was too afraid. I really believed that she would die if I disturbed her. The guilt of not wanting to hold her is still present for me today. Every time I look at her sweet face I wonder if she remembers a time when her mom was too scared to hold her.

It took Isabella over a month to reach the 2 pound mark, but from there she began gaining weight steadily. She graduated to c-pap on June 3^rd and then to nasal cannula on June 10^th. She moved to the continuing care nursery(CCN) on July 6^th. Our hospital had private rooms, and the CCN had couches, perfect for me as I had decided to spend every night at the hospital until she was discharged. I wonder sometimes if the staff thought I was nuts! But I didn’t care…Isabella was stable…I was getting to know my baby and she was getting bigger and stronger. I started feeling like a mom. I could hold her whenever I wanted! And give her baths! I was never anxious to get home. I talked with her everyday and told her that whenever she was ready to go home was perfectly fine with me.

On August 17^th, after 107 days, we left the hospital with a carseat filled with a healthy baby girl! Boy did we feel blessed…the luckiest parents on the planet! Because I had spent so much time with Isabella at the hospital, I felt really comfortable bringing her home. I knew the noises she made in her sleep and how her cry for food sounded. I only got to spend 2 weeks at home with her before going back to work, but I spent the majority of our time holding her. She loved being in the Ergo infant carrier…it mimicked kangaroo care and I think it was very comforting for her! And of course I loved it too!

We are coming up on Isabella’s second birthday. It’s a difficult time for me. A huge amount of varying emotions flood me during my quiet moments…driving in the car, late at night when trying to fall asleep, while rocking Isabella before bed. I cry more easily. I cry for the babies who didn’t get to go home, for the babies still fighting in the hospital, for the moms and dads who are so scared. I cry for Isabella and all the pain she endured. I cry because it’s unfair. I have survivor’s guilt. Why did I get so lucky.

The true miracle of Isabella is not just that she survived her early birth, but that she survived with seemingly no lasting effects to date. Her eyes never needed treatment. Her PDA closed with medication. She never had any brain bleeds. She was discharged without oxygen and sent home with no monitors or medications. She is growing nicely on her curve. She never developed oral aversions. She walked at 18 months actual age. She talks. She climbs. You would never guess by looking at her that she started out so sick and so small.”

Good morning to you friends! Thank you so much for stopping by! Today is the 2nd edition of Miracle Baby Monday and I am just pleased as punch to bring Conrad’s Story to you. Conrad, just like Claire, was in the NICU at Mercy Hospital, Des Moines at the same time my turkey’s were at Mercy Hospital in Des Moines. I met Conrad’s mommy, Branwyn, during a scrapbooking session the NICU offered to help mommies bond with one another.

Note: I was a scrapbooking machine during this time, but haven’t picked up a single piece of scrapbook paper since.

In summer of 2008, smartphones were just hitting the mainstream market. I mean, business professionals had them, and that was it. It was unheard of for normal people, like moms to be in possession of one of these bad boys. I don’t know how I survived, when now, I seriously sometimes think that someone needs to stage an intervention between me and my phone. Anyhow, I read a lot of books, you know paperback ones, because the Nook/Kindle hadn’t been invented yet and I scrapbooked. It was therapeutic.  And I met Branwyn.  I met her literally just a few days after Conrad had been born.  She and I had suffered the same pregnancy related condition, HELLP syndrome, which caused our babies to be born prematurely.  Her little one weighed just a smidge over a pound, unlike my turkeys who made 2 lbs look like giants next to those precious micropreemies.

Branwyn and her husband also had unique challenges that fortunately my family didn’t have to face.  They lived almost 2 hours away from the hospital.  So Branwyn was able to utilize the services of the Ronald McDonald House and stay close to her baby.  Here is their story.

Conrad

“My name is Branwyn and I had the wonderful opportunity to meet Andrea when our path’s collided in the NICU at Mercy Hospital.  I am a special education teacher from Fort Dodge, Iowa and this is my story.

July 6, 2008 will always be the day that changed my life forever.  I was 26 weeks pregnant and having an easy pregnancy.  I had been having headaches for the past week but nothing came up abnormal when I went to the doctor.  We thought I was just having migraine headaches, which I have had my whole life.  Something changed during the day and I started having pains in my left side.  My husband, Joel said we have to go to the hospital.  I really didn’t think it was necessary but I figured we would go and they would give me something for the headache and we would be home.  Boy, was I wrong.

When we got to the hospital my blood pressure was 220 over 190.  Well over stroke level.  Tests followed, I was put on oxygen and then my doctor appeared in my room.  I could tell by her expression that it was not good news.  She sat on the edge of my bed and gave us the news we were not prepared for.  I had developed pre-eclamsia which had turned into HELLP syndrome (Hemolysis Elevated Liver enzymes Low Platelet count).   Our baby would be delivered today and might weigh a pound if we were lucky.

Had I just heard her correctly?  It is July and he isn’t due until October.  It is too early.  She continued to say that babies are viable at 22 weeks but we needed to understand the seriousness of the situation.  She said you both could die if we don’t do this soon and I would really prefer to take you by life flight to Des Moines because Fort Dodge is not prepared to deal with a baby with needs like he will have.  We might have to deliver him here and send him by life flight to Des Moines and keep you here until you are able to travel.

I looked at her and said, “That is not going to happen!  What can you do to get us both there? I trust you and I know you will do what we need but we need to go to Des Moines together.” She said she would do everything she could to get us both there.

With this being a holiday weekend and with a lightning storm in progress, life flight was not an option.  They were on their fourth group of ambulance crews and finally got two ladies to come in.  We were finally off to Des Moines.  That was the longest, scariest and life altering ride of my life.  We got to Des Moines at 7:20 in the morning.  The doctor was barking orders to a team of about 10 and Joel was standing in the corner trying to get to me.  The doctor said we are delivering this baby right now.  I said I thought we wanted to get one more shot into me to give the baby’s lungs time to mature.

The doctor got up very close to my face and said, “Honey if we wait one minute, you are both going to die. I need your signature right here.” I got the B of my name and he grabbed the paper and we were moving.  I looked back only to see Joel slide down the wall.

Conrad Joel entered the world at 7:36 am weighing 1 lb. and 5 oz. and was 12 inches long.  I was out of it for four days before I really remember things clearly.

It was on July 9^th that I was finally able to get into a wheel chair and go to the NICU to see my baby.  They had tried to prep for me what I would see when I entered the NICU.  But there are no words to explain my initial shock when I reached his room.  On the video monitor that had been placed in my room, made him appear very large and looked fine.  I remember standing in his room looking at the isolate and crying.  He was so little, there were wires and tubes and monitors going off and on and beeping.  The nurse was trying to explain what things were to me and all I could see was this helpless little person with his eyes covered up, tubes down his throat, needles/IV’s sticking out of his head, oxygen tubes attached to his nose, a blue light with wrapping around his foot and a diaper that was up to his arm pit.

After the initial shock of what I was seeing, I began listening to the nurse who was being brutally honest with us.  She was explaining that the next few weeks were very critical for Conrad and we needed to understand all the things that they were looking for.  He would be undergoing a series of tests to look for a heart condition, a brain bleed and tests to ensure all of his internal organs were working correctly.  My head was still trying to wrap itself around all this NICU medical jargon when an alarm starting going off.

What now?? His breathing had slowed too much and they were stimulating him into breathing again.  At that moment I knew I needed to pray and take everything in because I had no idea what was in store for us.  I realized that I should not take any moment for granted and this little man was our miracle no matter how long he was in our lives.  I can honestly say now that I don’t think I let myself believe he would be okay until weeks later.  I was really afraid to love him for fear that I would loose him.  I couldn’t say it out loud to anyone at that time because they were trying to make me be at ease with it all.  I also knew that I needed to put a brave face on because Joel was looking to me for guidance.  I could tell he was struggling so I knew he needed me to be strong.  I waited and until things seemed a little calmer and found a bathroom a floor down and locked myself in and cried.  I cried for that little man, I cried for my husband, I cried for the whole situation and I cried for myself.  Our once perfect life had taken a drastic turn.  I realized that I could have continued for feel sorry for myself or I could pick myself up and face this journey head on.  I headed back into the NICU and faced my fears.

We were an hour and a half away from home and so the Ronald McDonald House became our home away from home.  It is a truly amazing place that has thought of everything to make you feel at home.  It was a great place to meet other families going through similar things and help you process what was going on.  We would go the hospital at 7:30 am every morning and leave around 6 every night and then our amazing family would go and sit with Conrad until 11 at night.

One week after Conrad was born, we walked into his room and the nurse said okay today it is time to hold this little guy.  Had I just heard her correctly?  FINALLY I would get to hold my baby.  She said I had to hold him first because it is always the mother first. I was so excited and scared to death at the same time.  What if he couldn’t breathe or stop breathing while I was holding him, what if I hurt him, what if…. The nurse came in and told me to put on hospital scrubs because I would be kangarooing with Conrad.  What?  Skin to skin contact while holding him.  So I sat in the chair, she picked him up and placed him on my chest, put a heated blanket over him and adjusted some wires.  She sat with us and made me feel so at ease.  She showed us how on the monitor when I held him, his stats were the best they had been.   It was truly an amazing moment and one that I will never forget.  Joel held him after I did and later after we processed the day; we had been feeling the same things.  This started the many kangarooing sessions with Conrad.

Early on one of the nurses told us to expect the unexpected and understand that you will take one step forward and then two steps back then three steps forward to five steps back and that the NICU journey is like a roller coaster. Best advice we were given!  Conrad started gaining weight but struggled with eating.  He had to have feeding tubes for many weeks.  He was not able to breathe on his own, which meant oxygen and tubes were normal everyday discussion.  Was he getting too much oxygen, not enough? He would have what they called spells which were when he forgot to breathe on his own and then the beeps would go off and they would come in and stimulate him to take a breath.

After we got comfortable with him, the nurses turned his cares over to us and they were done every three hours.  We had to change his diaper, check his tempeture, change the pulse ox machine and feed him.  This became a way of life and we scheduled our days around his cares…this was our normal.  Each day we went in and heard how his night went and what there next plan was.  Conrad had many scares in the NICU.  He had numerous infections which caused him to be placed back on the vent twice, reverse isolation where we had to wear hospital gowns, gloves and masks and a grade two brain bleed.  The brain bleed eventually corrected itself!

Another big obstacle was that due to the levels of oxygen he was given, he developed Retinopathy of Prematurity  (ROP) of the eyes. The blood vessels in his eyes were going the wrong way because of the levels of oxygen.  He had to have lots of different tests and exams and many follow up appointments.  When he started eating on his own, it became a huge challenge for all of us.  We had to learn to feed him which doesn’t sound difficult, but he had to learn how to suck, swallow and breathe on his own.  The first time I was feeding him, he stopped breathing and the nurse just looked at me and said what do you do?  I said a few not nice words and had to get him to breath.  I rubbed his back and patted him hardly on the back.  Finally he took a breath.  I am sure I didn’t breathe at all either!

We ended up meeting with Occupational Therapy to give us suggestions to get him to eat on his own.  So we were given lessons from the OT.  She showed me how to hold him on his side with my left hand holding his neck and the palm of my hand on his back to feel his breathing.  Then to feed him with my right hand counting 1-2-3 and then tipping the bottle the other direction so he wasn’t getting any milk and watching his breathing from the front.  Something that should be automatic for him was not and was not automatic for us either.  We had to train ourselves and it was not easy.  It got very frustrating at times and many times we wanted to quite.  It should be easy to feed your baby but it was so scary and frustrating at the same time.

When they tell you that the NICU is a journey that will change you, they are not kidding.  Finally after 79 days, Conrad was discharged from the hospital.  He came home on oxygen and faced many follow up appointments in Des Moines.  He is now 3 years old and still tiny for his age.  However after his rocky start, there is nothing wrong with him.  He is happy, healthy and doing great.  He is learning just as he should and has meet most milestones on time or early in some cases.  We have our miracle and we know that we are blessed! Our journey has changed us in so many positive ways including realizing what you are given, never take anything for granted and that even when faced with things that seem to impossible to handle, you can do it and you can do it together!”

For more information about The Ronald McDonald House Charities and how to help, please click here.  Thank you for joining us today!

When I started this blog, I was amazed at how easily the words flowed through my fingers.  I had a lot to write about apparently.  I wrote this post just the other day while doing some serious soul searching.  And just yesterday I had an epiphany of sorts.

I love sharing stories about my turkeys and our life.  But there is so much more in this world I want to share with you.  I want to use this blog for good.  That’s a pretty vague statement, I realize.  But when the words “Miracle Monday” popped into my head yesterday, I started thinking.

Whenever, I hear the word miracle, an image of my boys when they were first born immediately materializes in my toddler hazed brain.  I started thinking about all of the women I have known who have given birth prematurely and the stories behind those births. I also started thinking about all the families I have known who have children that have overcome medical conditions.  I want to give those children and their families a voice.

Their stories are of hope.  Their stories are of perserverance.  Their stories are of faith.  Their stories are of triumph over tragedy.

I want other parents in similar situations to find my blog and read these stories of real people and real children overcoming the most extreme obstacles.  Real stories of real people and how their faith, hope and love helped them to overcome the most daunting of times.

I am so happy to announce that “Miracle Baby Monday” is coming to my blog.  Every Monday, beginning April 9, I will feature one family and their story.  I will provide a forum for their voice to be heard.

There are three lovely ladies who have volunteered to share their stories.  Two of these ladies gave birth to micropreemies, their babies were born weighing right around a pound.  The other beautiful woman delivered two preemies less than 15 months apart.  I am so grateful that these women have decided to help me get my idea off the ground.

While these are stories regarding premature babies, I want to stress that I would like to share stories of other miracle children as well.  If you would like to share your story or know someone who would be interested, please email me at twinshappenblog@gmail.com.

In the next several weeks, I will be switching my blog over to wordpress and will have my own domain. This is a little frightening for me, but after doing some research and speaking with a wonderful technologically savvy friend who has offered her assistance, I’ve decided the move is necessary.

I will continue posting until my launch date and I have plenty of new stories to amuse you with, including one about the turkeys and golf.  That’s a fun one.