By Ginger, USA
PROM at 15 weeksDelivery at 15 weeks + 3 days.
Story added: 2006-04-05

My husband and I have been trying to build our family for about seven years now. We have undergone 6 IUIs, then 2 failed IVFs, then a surgery, then one more IVF. I was ready for the worst, and the 3rd IVF was the end of the road for us. But then the miraculous news - we were pregnant. I'll never forget the day the nurse called me to confirm the blood test. I was on my cell phone and pulled over to write down what she was telling me. I just couldn't believe it. I was the happiest person in the world, and even with my terrible morning sickness, I enjoyed every bit of being pregnant; I treasured it. My levels were so high that I always suspected we were pregnant with twins, and it was confirmed with ultrasound at our 8 week appointment. Then, going on my 16th week, I woke up in the middle of the night and my sheets were soaking wet. I walked to the bathroom leaking water the whole way. This wasn’t in any of my happy pregnancy books. It was after midnight and I didn’t know what to do so I tried to lie down, but I finally convinced myself that this wasn’t normal and I woke my husband up and phoned the doctor. My ob happened to be the one on call that night, and she told us to meet her in the emergency room. She confirmed that my membrane had ruptured and was grave about our chances. She immediately put me on bed rest and antibiotics and scheduled an appointment with a specialist the next morning who did an extensive ultrasound and saw that all of the fluid had emptied out of Baby A’s sac. He said he would rather it had been Baby B since that would offer more of a cushion, and maybe even plug things up, giving us a better chance for the babies. We were given the bittersweet news that Baby B was a boy, but he said he couldn’t tell on Baby A since the fluid was gone. It broke my heart to see my little baby A all scrunched up and unable to flip around like I had seen him do only a few weeks earlier. He gave us all of the bleak options, and we chose bed rest and antibiotics, but we were so hopeful. That was Saturday. On Monday night, I was watching TV and trying to get my mind off of my worries, but I started having pains that felt like menstrual cramps. I didn’t want to believe it was happening. Finally, I went to the bathroom and at that point I knew I was going into labor. I felt the baby already emerging and I absolutely panicked! I honestly thought that I had felt a little leg or an arm, but my husband later told me that was probably the umbilical cord, which is what he saw when they got me to the ER. My husband and parents carried me down the stairs and loaded me into the car and I was basically telling the on-call doctor on my cell phone that he’d better meet me in the ER. They took me to labor and delivery and checked for heartbeats. They were still there and the nurse seemed relieved about that. However, when the doctor arrived, he confirmed that Baby A was “presenting” and Baby B still had his little heartbeat. We were hopeful, but I was starting to feel extremely sick. They checked my blood for infection and my levels were extremely high. The doctor got another doctor on the phone from the perinatologist’s group (the one I had spoken to wasn’t on call and it was nearly midnight.) He kept saying that they should induce delivery on both babies, but we didn’t want to hear that! I had convinced myself that even if they both didn’t make it, we would fight to try to keep Baby B. At that point, I knew that Baby A didn’t have a chance. I kept saying, “It’s still my decision, right?” I wanted to talk to the other doctor, the one who had given us hope, but it was after midnight, and the doctor I was talking to said that he had dealt with more cases even than the doctor we wanted to talk to. He said that if we delivered Baby A and then they sutured me up that I would still have to get through 9 more weeks before we even had an inkling of a chance, and even then our chances were slim. He said that given my situation, I was more likely to lose Baby B in the next few days, and if we didn’t do this right now, I could get a staff infection, have to have a hysterectomy, and any number of terrible things. I couldn’t bear to hear it, and I put my husband on the phone. The doctor told him the same thing, in medical terms, and finally my husband said, “Can’t you just tell me in plain English?” Then, everyone left me and my husband in the room together to make the decision. We wailed and held each other, just sobbing, and completely unglued that we had to make this desperate decision. I hate admitting it even now, because part of me feels like we should have been able to do more to save our boys. We had to make the decision, and at that time I was just so weak. I just didn’t think I could make it 9 more weeks, and when I told my husband, we decided together, under incredible duress, to let them induce delivery. Part of me, now that I have gained back my strength wonders how I could have let them take my babies. And I feel so much guilt for that. That night was the bleakest, most desperate night of my life. My husband held our two boys as they each died in his hands and we just sobbed. The other decision may have led to my health failing, but sometimes I wonder if that’s the way it was supposed to be. Maybe I could be in heaven right now looking after my boys. My little niece says that they have an auntie in heaven watching over them – referring to my sister who was killed in a car accident at age 16 – thirteen years ago. I take some comfort in that thought. Our precious little boys, Alexander and Bode, were born and died on March 7, 2006 and I'm still so devastated. Our doctor said that we really didn’t have a chance, and she reminded me that even though I am back to feeling better now, they had me on IV antibiotics for 3 days, plus two blood transfusions. My husband likens our situation to nearing the summit of a mountain we have been climbing for a very long time, then falling off without any ropes. We were so close to having our family, and now we're back at the beginning, or worse, since I doubt we'll be able to do any more infertility treatments. I have had many friends who can relate to how difficult it is to have a miscarriage, but only my husband who understands how difficult it is to lose our twins, coupled with infertility. He has more hope than I have right now. I just turned 32, my husband is 39, and it feels like our window is closing. I have my terrible days, and my not-so-bad days, although it’s still a very fresh pain. I am blessed to have good friends and caring family, and I definitely appreciate my husband more than ever.
Thank you for reading and listening to my long story. I already feel better for having written it. I plan to send it to LAMBS, Loss After IVF and the PROM list, so I apologize to those of you who receive it more than once. Thank you all for your stories, they have already been a great comfort.
Ginger