A testimony of the birth of my Oldest Son.
It all started when I became pregnant at the young age of 19.
I had dreadful bouts of morning sickness.
The doctor ended up doing a blood test to check for any birth defects. Sadly the test results came back positive.
My unborn child had gastroschisis. It is a condition where the abdomen wall leaves a whole instead of closing completely. The intestines then push through this whole and are developed outside the babies body in the amniotic fluid.
As the doctor is explaining this to me he suggests that I have an abortion because at the time the survival rate was low, there could be complications as the child grows if he survives, and the stay at the hospital could be anywhere from six weeks to a year.
Since this story continues on, I am sure you are aware I did not make that choice. I had faith that all would be fine especially since doctors have been wrong before with my diagnosis after hitting my head as a baby. (See "Personal Testimony" blog post for more information on what I am referring to.)
I had to travel a distance to a specialist for weekly ultrasounds to be sure everything was going accordingly with my Oldest Son's development.
The very last scheduled ultrasound visit was the very day the doctor ended up inducing me into labor because they found on the ultrasound there was a sac membrane developing around his intestines that were outside his body in the amniotic fluid. I believed this was an answered prayer and God's way of protecting my Oldest Son's intestines from ripping on the way out of the birth canal which would have caused grave danger.
I ended up spending my 20th birthday in the hospital waiting to give birth. It took three days after being induced before my water broke, which was the day right after my birthday. When my water broke however it was not water but looked like mustard cottage cheese. Once my water broke I finally felt the pains of childbirth and begged for an epidermal because I did not really get any sleep since the day all this started and I was exhausted.
I got to sleep for three hours before I was woken up and told it is time to push. After pushing one time my Oldest Son was born exactly one month premature. He weighed two pounds more than the doctors had expected him to weigh. I got a quick view of him as they cut the umbilical cord and he was swept away to surgery.
The nurse asked, "Have you given birth before?"
I replied, "No, I have not. He is my first. Why?"
The nurse answered, "Because you were so natural and knew how to properly push. You should teach Lamaze."
Time had passed and I was cleaned up enough to go see my Oldest Son in NICU. He did great with the surgery. They had wrapped his intestines. It looked and worked like a big tube of toothpaste to slowly squeeze his intestines back inside.
I was allowed to stay at the Ronald McDonald House while my Oldest Son was in the hospital. I went to visit as much as I could and continued to pump breast milk for the nurses to feed to him.
There was another couple who had a child born a week later of the same condition as my Oldest Son. Sadly however their child did not make it. I cried for them and it put a fear in my own heart about my Oldest Son. I cried, pleaded, and prayed to God for my Oldest Son's survival and to allow me the chance to be the best mom to him that I could be.
A week later from the time of that prayer my Oldest Son was improving so greatly that the doctors were discussing taking him off the ventilator the following day. Of course, though my Oldest Son took it upon himself to pull the ventilator out that same night.
One of the nurses knew I was pumping breast milk constantly and knew I could not wait to actually put my Oldest Son to my breast to feed him myself. So she went against the doctor order. She picked up my Oldest Son, weighed him, and let me breastfeed him. She then stopped him from feeding a few minutes later and weighed him again. It ended up that he ate more than what they were allowing him to eat and she hoped she would not get into trouble for allowing me this experience. (I also was praying she would not be in any trouble.) It turned out that she did not get into trouble and I was then on call any time to come feed my Oldest Son when he was hungry. I remember getting a call at one in the morning to come to feed him and they had a police escort to bring me to the hospital.
I believe being allowed to breastfeed my Oldest Son also attributed to his quick healing since he was in the hospital for exactly one month. This is much shorter than the normal duration of stay in the hospital that children who are born with gastroschisis usually experience. It is normally six weeks to one year.
We have been very blessed that there have been no other complications with the birth defect. My Oldest Son is healthy, handsome, a very smart "out of the box thinker" (he hates when I say that), and very talented with words and music. He always brings a new perspective to any situation. I thank God for answering my prayers and I am blessed to call him my Oldest Son.
What is your becoming a mother story?
Kommentare