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Today Bloggers are taking time to raise awareness about prematurity. When I found out I was pregnant with quadruplets, I was told my babies would be born early. How early was hard to predict. There are so many "magic numbers" when you're dealing with multiples. My pregnancy became all about countdowns to various weekly milestones.
The first countdown was to week 5. This is the week I went for my first ultrasound to see how my pregnancy was going. It was also the week we found out I was carrying quadruplets.
The next countdown was to week 10. This is the first appointment I had with my obstetrician since becoming pregnant. He took one look at me and I could see the panic on his face. Since week 5 I had not been able to keep down much food. I was rapidly losing weight. He was concerned on a personal level because a close friend and patient had just lost her triplets at 19 weeks.
I tried not to focus on 19 and instead counted to 18 weeks... when we could find out the genders. My perinatologist jumped the gun at 16 weeks and excitedly announced one of the babies was a boy. At 18 weeks we found out all four babies were girls. This was a fun revelation, but meant the names Gavin and Wyatt were no longer on our short list of potential baby names.
Then I nervously counted to 19 weeks. It came. It went. We made it.
The biggest "week" was yet to come. We were informed from the beginning that I had to carry these babies to 28 weeks in order to deliver them at our local hospital. If I went into labor earlier than that I would be transferred 2+ hours away to the nearest facility with pediatric specialists. There was no way I was going to have my babies in a hospital so far away. Two hours? No, I wanted my babies to be delivered 20 minutes from my house so I could visit them every day once I was discharged.
At exactly 28 weeks we toured the NICU and talked with someone from the hospital about the "quad delivery game plan." Then I went home to begin my countdown to my scheduled c-section at 32 weeks. I made it two days into that particular countdown before my four fragile little girls arrived in this world.
It has been a crazy ride, full of ups and downs. In that first year, I never would have imagined having four five-year-olds. Now my countdowns are to fun milestones... such as the first day of kindergarten next year!
Today hundreds of bloggers are writing posts about premature births. Every year 20 million babies are born too soon. Medical advances are giving these babies a fighting chance, but for many of them, prematurity is still a life or death situation. Last week, to promote today's event, I shared some of my story involving the premature births of my four daughters. Today, I'm taking a slightly different angle.
I was born premature. I was approximately four weeks early. I've been told I spent time in an isolette so my lungs could develop properly. I've never had any developmental complications from being premature, so it never really hit me how serious being born early can be.... until I became a mommy of preemies.
When I learned I was pregnant with quadruplets I was immediately informed that I would give birth early. How early? There was no way to tell. The longer my babies could stay in the womb, the better. With a fairly uncomplicated pregnancy (save for 23 weeks of bed rest), a c-section was scheduled for 32 weeks. Then at 28 weeks and 2 days, at around 4 a.m., my water broke. I was in disbelief. It was way too early!
Twenty-eight weeks was a magic number. It was how far along I had to be to deliver my babies at my local hospital, rather than be immediately transferred to a hospital 2 1/2 hours away that had pediatric specialists.
My tour of the NICU did not prepare me for what would happen. It's not easy seeing someone else's baby connected to monitors with oxygen tubes up her nose. It's even harder when this fragile child is your own. It took 24 hours before I could hold one of my daughters. I was able to hold Tortilla on a pillow for about two minutes while her bedding was changed... then it was right back to the safety of her isolette. It would be weeks before we could hold any of our daughters for more than a few minutes.
The other day I dug out some NICU pictures for my daughters to see. I could see in their eyes how troubled they were to look at pictures of tiny babies with tubes coming out of their noses, etc. Then I had to explain to them that they were the babies in the pictures. We spent some time talking about how tiny they were and all the special care they needed. It's a lot for a 4-year-old to grasp.
We have since moved from the area where we lived when my daughters were born. It is my hope that one day we can visit so my daughters can see that area... and so we can show the NICU staff how well these girls have thrived, partly due to the care they received when they were first born.
To learn more about prematurity and what you can do to help, visit the March of Dimes.
When I found out I was pregnant with quadruplets, my life became defined by numbers.... weeks to be exact. I knew I would be delivering my babies early... but how early was the question.
Twenty-eight weeks and two days. Those two days are important. It's two days longer that my daughters had time to grow before coming into the world. Rarely will you meet a parent of preemies who doesn't talk about the birth in terms of weeks and days. Some of them can tell you the hours involved, too.
To see pictures of preemies is deceiving. Pictures did not capture the terror of having four babies weighing between 1 1/2 pounds and 2 pounds 4 ounces. In pictures my daughters looked delicate, but not that small. To give people an idea of the challenges we faced, Hubby sent this picture to friends and family:
That is a picture of Cakes' foot and Hubby's wedding band. He has average sized hands. (The blue tint is because all the girls were under Bilirubin lights for jaundice.) After seeing that picture people finally understood our fears.
With preemies, everything becomes a milestone... the first time you can hold your baby (it was about two weeks before we got to do more than transfer them from their isolette to the scale), the first time she poops, the first time she opens her eyes. I have pages upon pages documenting each of these "firsts," and plenty of pictures to go with them.
I consider us very blessed in our lack of "preemie problems." Sue Sue was born with an open heart ductus, but it closed without surgery. Each of the girls had Retinopathy of Prematurity, but, again, no need for surgery. Sue Sue had feeding issues and was eventually transferred to a children's hospital 2 1/2 hours away from us (an excrutiating and exhausting week, I might add). She finally came home with a feeding tube, which lasted for about a week. On Christmas Day she pulled the tube out, so, out of frustration, I gave her a bottle. which she drained. No more feeding issues!
Even now, at age 4, the issue of prematurity still comes up. For instance, next year my daughters miss the kindergarten cut-off by three days. So many parents have rolled their eyes and told me to appeal and start them in kindergarten. Yet, if they had been born "on time" (December) this wouldn't be an issue. At this point, I'm leaning toward another year of preschool. I would rather have four smart cookies who enjoy school than four girls struggling through school because I pushed them to start early, even if it's just a matter of days.
November is Prematurity Awareness Month. On Nov. 17, bloggers will unite to raise awareness about the crisis of premature births. I know why my daughters were born early, but I am forever thankful for the advances made by the March of Dimes and other organizations which have helped my daughters grow and thrive. If you want to share your own story or get involved in the effort to raise awarness, you can visit Bloggers Unite.
