My husband, Eddie, and I married in October of 2006, and planned to begin trying to start our family after about six months. We got pregnant right away and enjoyed a fairly uneventful pregnancy with our son, EJ, who was born in December 2007.
I was able to have an unmedicated vaginal birth with him and looked forward to having a similar birth experience with all of my future children. In November of 2008, I was enjoying new motherhood with EJ, who was not yet a year old. As a nursing mother, my menstrual cycle had not returned to being fully regular, so I didn’t think much of it when it seemed like several weeks had passed since my last cycle.
I remember attending a women’s conference workshop at my church and feeling a bit “off” by the time I arrived home that evening. I told my husband my stomach was bothering me, and he jokingly asked me if I was pregnant. We both laughed it off but neither of us could shake the nagging possibility I could actually be pregnant, so we went out and got a test.
Almost immediately, the test came back positive, and we were both incredulous at the fact that we were expecting again, so soon after our son’s birth. We both felt grossly unprepared for the challenges that would lie ahead as parents to “two under two” and it was definitely not in our plans, but we decided to accept God’s plan and embrace what lay ahead of us.
The first couple months of my pregnancy seemed to progress fairly normal, until it came time for my anatomy scan. This was the first time our faith was tested during this pregnancy as the doctors thought they saw some abnormalities on my scan. Specifically, they observed what appeared to be rocker bottom feet, which is a congenital foot deformity.
Our baby’s feet appeared to be shaped like a rocking chair on the scan, and the doctor informed us this could be indicative of one of a few different types of trisomy syndromes (like Down Syndrome). We were told the only way to confirm if our baby had trisomy syndrome was to undergo an amniocentesis.
Due to the risks associated with that prenatal test, we talked about it, prayed about it, and agreed we would not take the chance. We knew that whether or not our daughter had trisomy syndrome, we would still proceed with the pregnancy. We never considered terminating the pregnancy and knew we would love our child, no matter the prognosis.
We prayed and prayed about it, and asked all of our prayer warriors to intercede on our behalf. We trusted God that everything would be okay and our baby would be healthy. On our next ultrasound, our prayers were answered! There was no further evidence of rocker bottom feet or any other trisomy indicators! But that was not the end of our worries.
Unfortunately, at that time the doctor observed I had placenta previa in my 2nd trimester, as my placenta was covering my cervix. The concern was if my placenta did not move away from the cervix, then I would not be able to have a vaginal delivery.
I was then classified as a high-risk pregnancy and my prenatal care was transferred from a midwife to an obstetrician. I would have to deliver at a hospital with a Level III NICU rather than the birthing center-style hospital where I had previously delivered my son. My dreams of another smooth vaginal delivery were slipping through my fingers, but I thought all of this seemed minor compared to the scare of the trisomy diagnosis.
As the pregnancy continued, I was monitored continuously but my placenta did not move. Early in the 3rd trimester, plans were made to deliver my baby by cesarean delivery at 37 weeks. I had an appointment scheduled for July 6th, 2009, for steroid injections ahead of the delivery date to help develop my baby’s lungs.
Unfortunately, all of this scheduling and planning would soon prove to be irrelevant. On the morning of Sunday, June 14th, at 34 weeks pregnant, I woke up to get ready for church and something didn’t feel right. I felt a wetness between my legs and looked down to see there was a large amount of blood. I woke my husband up and told him I was bleeding and needed to call the doctor right away.
While he took care of getting himself and our toddler up and dressed, I called the doctor and began preparing my son’s diaper bag. I remember being strangely calm and my only concern was getting everything my son would need – diapers, snacks, change of clothes, etc. My “mom mode” was in full effect and perhaps it was also a welcome distraction while I waited for the doctor to call back, although the wait was not very long.
When the doctor called back only moments later, she spoke very calmly to me but told me I needed to get to the hospital right away, and if my husband couldn’t take me, I needed to go by ambulance. I could sense the urgency in her words. Hearing her voice was the moment I knew things were very serious, so my husband, toddler, and I loaded up in the car for what would feel like the longest drive of my life.
Other than making a few phone calls and sending out a few texts to let my family know what was going on, the drive and arrival at the hospital were a blur. We made arrangements for my brother and sister-in-law to meet us at the hospital. When I finally arrived, I was whisked away and spoke with the doctor briefly; the next thing I knew I was being put under.
When I woke up, I knew my daughter had been born but I had no recollection of what had happened or where she was. I hadn’t even heard her first cry or had a chance to hold her. I was informed she was in the NICU and learned from the doctor that my placenta had abrupted, causing a very serious situation for me and my daughter. She had told my husband if he had gotten to the hospital even a few minutes later, one or both of us may not have survived.
My daughter’s name is Eliana, which means “God has answered.” We chose her name in my second trimester shortly after the trisomy scare. After the added distress of the way she entered this world, her name carried that much more meaning for us. Not only had God answered our prayers regarding the trisomy concerns, but He had also brought me and my daughter safely through the traumatic birth experience.
After her birth, I was advised to rest and recover but nothing could keep me from seeing Eliana in the NICU. When I first laid eyes on her, I just remember thinking she was so tiny and seemed so fragile. She was only 4 pounds and 9 ounces at birth, which was a little more than half the size of my son’s birth weight.
She was engulfed in an incubator, and we weren’t even allowed to hold her right away. The doctors informed us that her lungs were not fully developed, which the steroid shots would have helped with if we had made it that far. She was unable to regulate her body temperature or feed properly. The next couple of weeks would present many challenges for us.
My body was trying its best to recover physically, but I could not take the necessary time to rest for my recovery, as it felt like I was denying my motherly instincts because I wanted to be there both for my son at home and my daughter in the hospital. After my discharge, I was driven to the hospital each day where I would stay as long as I possibly could until I was picked up at night to go home, where I took care of my son.
When Eliana was able to regulate her body temperature better, she was moved down from the incubator and I was able to hold her more. All day long, Eliana and I would practice kangaroo care as much as we possibly could. One of her greatest challenges was learning how to nurse. Although I had nursed successfully and fairly easily with my son for 15 months, it did not come as naturally with Eliana.
I was told her sucking and swallowing reflexes had not been fully developed due to her premature birth. Once she had graduated from tube feeding and we were ready to breastfeed, it proved to be much more difficult than I had anticipated it would be. I was exhausted and we were both very frustrated.
Eventually, we were able to overcome that challenge and faced our greatest obstacle that stood between staying in the NICU and being discharged to go home – the car seat test. This is where the baby must be placed in the car seat in the reclining position and hooked up to monitors to observe breathing and heart rate. Too many changes observed during this time can be cause for concern to the medical team and possibly lead to them denying her discharge. I remember it felt like the longest two hours of my life, but finally, she passed the test and after 2 weeks in the NICU, we were finally ready to go home!
At home, there were still some difficulties along the way. Eliana was very slow to grow in both height and weight. She was always well below average on the growth charts. I learned about “adjusted” age, which meant when other children who were her age were doing certain things, we always had to subtract six weeks due to her premature birth and adjust our expectations accordingly.
And later, even with the adjusted age, we noticed she was still experiencing some developmental delays. We later had her tested by early intervention and found she indeed qualified for speech, physical, and occupational therapy.
Over the years, Eliana eventually caught up to her peers. God has been answering our prayers for Eliana since before she was born. Now at age 15, she is thriving academically and athletically. I always say she came into this world fighting and has been our little fighter ever since.
Encouragement for Moms:
You are not alone. Don’t be afraid to ask for and accept help. Take it one day at a time, cherish each milestone, big or small, and remember to rest. You can’t help your baby get healthy if you’re not healthy.
Prayer for Moms:
Father God we thank you for the gift of new life even when it comes in a way that is unexpected. We pray for the strength of the parents of premature babies as they navigate these challenging and uncertain times. May your angels protect the babies while they are separated from their parents, and may they continue to grow stronger and healthier each day so that they will soon be home with their families.
In Jesus’ name, Amen
Want to hear more of LynNae’s story? Watch our Moms Night In conversation on YouTube:
Faith-Filled Moms 