Alex and I haven't concluded whether or not to celebrate this day or try to erase it from our memory. Since the latter is impossible, we are called to celebrate or at least recognize the date.
Where to start. . .
Two years ago, after the stress of the first trimester troubles were over and while we were settling into the delightful second trimester (I really mean delightful. . I love being pregnant) I took my mom with me to a routine ultrasound. My pregnancy was high risk and ultrasounds weren't uncommon. What was uncommon was that Alex didn't accompany me. It was the first appointment that he missed.
The tech examined Lila Grace first and she was dancing away. I assumed everything was fine with Adeline when the tech decided to take a "potty break" but when Dr. Carlson came in and proceeded to do the ultrasound without speaking, I knew. I pushed him for answers and he was reluctant to give any. He said that Adeline was measuring half the size of her sister and that her placenta had bled and formed a hematoma. He wouldn't comment on her prognosis but it was clearly grim. I immediately went upstairs for my clinical portion of the visit at which point Dr. Roberts said that there no chance for Adeline's survival. Her blood flow was restricted and would soon reverse. She gave Adeline two weeks to live and mentioned that they wouldn't consider delivering her so early because she would be too small to provide support. She concluded the appointment with, "In reality, she will probably give up the fight in the next couple of days which will make delivery a non-issue."
I was stunned, angry and scared. I continued to search for a way for my little girl to beat the odds but kept coming up empty. Alex finally arrived at the hospital and I collapsed in his arms. I desperately needed him to tell me that they were wrong. We both decided to hang our hopes on a 12 hour fetal diagnosis that was scheduled at Penn in 48 hours. That 48 hours seemed like 48 days. Was Adeline alive? That remained the question for every waking moment over the next 29 days.
After our appointment at Penn we sat at a round table with Doctors and counselors. The concensus was that Adeline had a 5% (a.k.a. no chance) of making it to 24 weeks which would be the first day they could ethically deliver. If by some miracle Adeline did hold on for two weeks, it would mean that Lila Grace would also have to be delivered early, putting her life at risk as well. Could we possibly put Lila Grace at such great risk for the sake of delivering Adeline early? A terrible decision to have to make.
A few days later, we went over the results of the appointment with Dr. Carlson and he told us to go for baby "B" (Lila) and pretend that baby "A" doesn't exist. Hard to hear and poorly delivered but an honest opinion from a doctor that hates to give them.
And so the fight had begun. . . each day laying on my side pushing my fingers into my belly trying to get Adeline to move and give some indication that she was still alive. We were given ultrasounds every 48 hours but that is too long to wait when you know your child is fighting for life and most likely loosing. Each ultrasound indicated poor blood flow, but the predicted flow reversal never appeared! Her amniotic fluid was slowly leaking which was part of the reason she wasn't able to move in the womb. I don't think my heart ever beat as fast as it did during the few seconds it took the tech to locate a heartbeat during each scan. Nor do I think anything has been more emotional for us than the sight of a beating heart when you have prepared yourself not to see one.
I like to say that God held her in the palm of his hand during those 29 days. She shunted every last drop of blood to her brain and held on to life. It was evident by the looks of her on her birthday. Her head was about as big as her body. . .a sign of a baby in distress.
Alex and I still had to grapple with the decision of when to deliver the girls since Adeline was clinging to life, hanging in that miraculous 5% survial category. We finally made the decision to deliver at 28 weeks which would most likely guarantee Lila's survival if she was administered steroids 72 hours in advance. The day of the girls' delivery was the day we were going to set up my admission and begin the steroid course for the anticipated 28 week delivery. Clearly, God knew that Adeline had fought long enough and gave both girls the strength they needed to live in the absence of steroids. Their delivery was the caused by preeclampsia - something that the doctors mistakingly didn't watch. Proof that God works in mysterious ways.
29 days of agony, despair and anger, or 29 days of miraculous strength and perseverance by my little one. It just depends on how you want to look at it. At the time it was the former but two years later I see things through different eyes.
July 26th will always be Adeline's day. She fought a good fight for 29 days and then continued fighting for 125 more in the NICU. She never ceases to amaze me or comfort me. As she approaches two and begins to take on the characteristics of a typical two year old, she still exudes calm and serenity. She makes me smile like no other. How can one be so funny, sweet and full of life considering her calm and peace didn't really start until less than a year ago when she gave up the oxygen? Her road has been long and hard and will continue to be. Adeline continues to raise the bar when it comes to living life to its fullest.
There are no words to express how much I love this little one. She makes me a better person each and every day!!
Miss Belly Belle, Thank YOU!!!
