By Terese, Omaha, NE USAI was diagnosed with PCOS and after two years of trying, my husband and I conceived twins by artificial insemination in July. Our first ultrasound at seven weeks showed three sacs present, but one was empty. We had a twinge of sadness for the baby that didn't develop, but that was overshadowed by the relief and joy we felt. We had an ultrasound at eight weeks with my new OB, and then two days later I started bleeding. The heavy bleeding stopped in a few days, and I spotted after that. After watching our babies grow and swim for the next seven weeks, I was comforted but still scared there would be more complications.
PROM at 15 weeks + 2 days. Delivery at 22 weeks.
Story added: 2004-12-17
At 15 weeks, 2days, I woke up at 03:00 a.m. to a gush of fluid. At first I though I was bleeding badly, and then I thought I had peed the bed. A quick trip to the ER revealed PPROM, and being a nurse, I knew it was a dismal prognosis. I heard those words "dismal prognosis" frequently for the next few days. I was admitted, and then sent home a day later on modified bedrest. We don't have a computer at home, so I didn't have access to much information. We were hopeful, although I continued to leak fluid all the time. Weekly ultrasounds showed two wiggly babies, Baby B a girl, Baby A a surprise. I have a really dry sense of humor, and I jokingly kept track of the days by marking on my bedroom wall with a pencil, as if I were stranded on a deserted island.
On November 3rd, I woke up and felt uncomfortable, as if I might be constipated, but I did have a nagging sense that something was "off". I didn't want to eat anything, hoping that would help. I couldn't get comfortable, and the fullness seemed to be centered low in my pelvis and was getting worse. I took my usual brief shower and started to panic when I realized it was getting worse and seemed to be coming and going. I called my husband and doctor and we headed for the hospital. By the time I was admitted for monitoring, I started to chill and shake. My temperature was up and the pain was getting a lot worse. Things started moving really fast then, and even though I begged my OB to stop the labor, she couldn't because I was obviously infected. I was so scared. I kept hoping that the affected baby, Baby A, would be delivered and maybe they could stop labor and save Baby B. Sadly, Baby B delivered first that night, our beautiful baby girl that we had been calling Kate for weeks. My husband asked if we would name her Ekaterina, the full name we had picked, but it seemed too big for such a tiny baby. She was 1 pound, 2 ounces and perfect. We held her for an hour until she died. Baby A was born as Kate died. My OB told us that she couldn't feel Baby A's pulse anymore in the birth canal, and then a minute later called out softly "Here is your baby boy" it felt like I had been punched in the heart. We hadn't been able to tell before delivery that Baby A was a boy. Losing two babies seemed too cruel, and then to lose our perfect dream of a boy and a girl was just too much. We wanted to name a boy James, after my husband's father, but looking at him - already gone- it didn't seem right to name the dead after the living. And I still long to have my "Jimmy" someday. So we named him Anton, after his great grandfather. He was only 10 ounces, and although we feel he was perfect, he did have some of the physical problems that low-fluid babies develop. I regret not having our own camera to take pictures with the babies. The nurses took a picture of them together hours after they died, and that one picture is all we have.
I have been overwhelmed with guilt for months. For seven weeks on bedrest I wondered what I did, or didn't do, that caused the PROM. After the delivery I blamed myself for failing. That extra trip to the bathroom, stolen minutes sitting in a recliner instead of lying down; I was sure I was responsible, after all, who else can you blame?
I have been able to do a lot of research on PROM since we lost the babies, and it did help to relieve some of my guilt. I'm back at work, back in the world, but when my family asks "are things getting back to normal?" I cringe and think, "no, just back to the way things were before my pregnancy". I think about my babies everyday, and I still cry a lot, although a little less each day. I even feel guilty for the days when I don't cry, like somehow I am forgetting them.
I would like to talk to other women who have PCOS and have been able to get pregnant again after PPROM. And if you're reading this and can't stop believing that it was somehow your fault, I encourage you to do some research, however painful it may be. Writing in a journal has helped too, because even when everyone else has "moved on", you can always talk to the babies you have lost.
God bless you.