We found out that I was expecting late in 2010, a complete
surprise to both Shane and I, but as with all gifts of this type I was
thrilled. The pregnancy didn’t start off well though, as early on by 8 weeks, I
was diagnosed with Placenta Previa (a low lying placenta), and shortly
after, hospitalised due to bleeding. At
that stage I wasn’t aware that I was carrying triplets and sadly by the
beginning of January I had suffered an inevitable miscarriage. It being during
the holidays, the Gynae that I was seeing was not available and after some
investigation, I found Dr Coetsee in Umhlanga who promptly advised me that I
had in fact miscarried, but that there was evidence of two further embryo’s. Twins!
And so our journey together started… I remember asking Dr K
at that point, what I could do to help keep my babies safe and avoid another
miscarriage and his answer was simple…Pray.
And pray I did, sadly within the next few weeks one of the
heartbeats no longer showed up on the ultra sound, but one very strong little
heartbeat hung on – Olivia. Even from that point we were seeing Dr K every 2
weeks and each visit Olivia grew and grew. But by 16 weeks I was aware that something
was very wrong. At 16 weeks I was feeling heavy and uncomfortable like I did
nearing the end of my previous two pregnancies, breathless and battling to
sleep at night because of the pain.
Dr K was very thorough and after much investigation and a visit
to a foetal maternal specialist, Placenta Percreta was confirmed. Placenta
Percreta is a very rare condition where the Placenta grows through the
uterine wall and into neighbouring organs. There were six known cases worldwide
and the prognosis was not good.
So at 16 weeks I was put on bed rest. I was only allowed up
to take and fetch my kids from school and do short trips to and from the
supermarket. Sadly though things went from bad to worse!
By 22 weeks, I was losing amniotic fluid and we were told that
we should consider termination as without enough fluid Olivia would be unable
to move around thus enabling her limbs to build muscle and grow and fluid was
also needed for her to inhale to allow her lungs to form and allow her to take
her first breath at birth. She was also lying breach and this position too was
inhibiting her movements and adding to the problem. The docters were very
skeptacke of her being able to turn into a better position due to the size of
the placenta and the masses of vascular tissue that was forming around the
placenta. My pain seemed to be worsening daily and the risk to me of maternal
haemorrhage and infection was now extremely high. Without giving it a second thought I refused,
I could carry on if Olivia could and so far apart from the warnings she was
growing albeit a little slowly and she had a strong heartbeat and with each
movement I knew I could never give up on her.
For the next few weeks we saw the Dr every few days and did
blood tests for infection. By 24 weeks Olivias growth had slowed down
drastically and she was now only the size of a 21 week foetus. I was by this
stage experiencing contractions and the fear of premature labour loomed. At 26
weeks I was experiencing terrible pain and was admitted to the hospital for what
I would later call my “dry run”, I was given a course of steroid injections to
help mature Olivia’s tiny lungs and was monitored overnight. The pain slowly
eased and contractions settled and I was again sent home to wait just a little
longer.
At 27 weeks, our little fighter had done the impossible;
somehow she had managed to move in her tight quarters from breach to upright
position, with her head comfortably nestled under my heart! This was just what
we had been praying for. Now our baby girl would have some space to move and
perhaps be able to catch up on some of the growth she so desperately needed.
And in just 1 more week she would be medically viable – in theory able to
survive should she be born.
We kept on trucking and by 29 weeks her weight was starting
to pick up but then the placental function started to fail. Flow through the umbilical
cord was not good endangering her access to oxygen and food. Again we prayed
and so many with us…
At 30 weeks we again saw the Foetal maternal specialist and
after weighing up the pro’s and cons it was decided that I would try to hang in
there for another two weeks, just enough to allow Olivia to gain the weight she
needed and for her lungs to mature a little more. At that stage the risk to me
would start to outweigh the benefit of keeping Olivia inside me.
On Monday the 20th June 2011, I was once again
admitted to Umhlanga hospital. I was again given a set of steroid injections to
help mature her lungs and waited for my theatre date early the next morning.
That night I have never been more terrified as I anxiously waited for the morning. I prayed
like I had never prayed before, prayed that she would be able to take that
first precious breath of air, prayed that she would be whole, I knew that she
would be perfect in my eyes no matter
what abnormalities she might have, I just needed her to be able to breath. That
night was spent begging for us both to be spared and alternating hot baths and
heat pads to be able to deal with the extreme pain.
Olivia was born at 7.47am the following morning, at just
1.31kilograms, she took her first breath, cried and then stopped breathing…I
thankfully was asleep for this as with the risks being so high Olivia was
delivered under General anaesthetic. That being the reason she stopped breathing
– Dr Karl was prepared though and worked tirelessly to stabilize her and settle
her in her little incubator in NICU where she would spend the next 49 days
growing and fighting…
The decision was made to deliver Olivia via C-section and
simply remove her control the bleeding
and close me up again, leaving the placenta where it was. I was given a few
days rebate to recover and establish expressing breast milk for Olivia.
After 5 days I was discharged and underwent two sessions
of Methotrixate/ chemo therapy as an out
patient for two weeks and travelled to
the hospital daily to see my baby girl. Unfortunately instead of killing off
the placenta as we had hoped the chemo seemed to fuel it putting me at further
risk so a decision was made to operate to remove it and due to the damage a
hysterectomy too.
Sadly the operation was aborted due to complications and
again we prayed. A week later I was sent to St Augustines to a vascular surgeon
who performed an angiogram and embolization which is inserting little bits of
medical fibres and coils into my arteries and vessels to block blood flow to
the uterus. It was envisaged to take about 45 mins but lasted 4 hours. I needed
to be awake in order for the procedure to be done correctly and how I managed
in excruitiating pain for those 4 hours I will never know.
The procedure was successful and the Dr managed to block off
90% of the blood flow to my uterus. After consultations between the drs it was
decided that the complications wre far more serious than origionally thought
and it was decided that the following morning Dr Coetsee would again attempt
the hysterectomy and extraction of the placenta. Thankfully this time the operation was a success after loosing my blood volume the drs managed to keep me alive, but I was put into a medically induced coma to allow my body a chance to recouperate. And from there we both healed.
Six months after the op, I was again struck with sever pain and it was found that due to all the suregeris and intervention, adhesions had formed between my intestines, colon and other internal organs literally gluing my insides together with a chewing gum like substance. So as my body worked my organs would pull against each other causing severe pain.
Olivia turned one a couple of weeks ago… a whole year has passed since that early morning in that cold sterile theatre as the slow, steady rhythm of the beeping machines in the background lulled me to sleep.
As I think back I can still smell the disinfectant in the
room and feel the Goosebumps prickle my skin under the warm blanket on that
hard cold operating table. I gulped back my fear, held on tight to Shane’s hand,
said a final pleading prayer and then there was nothing… nothing but him
keeping me going, keeping me strong.
That was the first of my surgeries; there were three further
and each time the same pleading prayer…don’t leave me, please give me the
strength to get through this…just a little further.
I am often asked how I kept so positive and strong and all I
can say is that it was not me, it was him. He never let me believe for a minute
that either of us wouldn’t make it.
Faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance of what we do not
see Hebrews 11.1Today those early days of anxiety mixed with excitement, and pure relief and joy every time we got a positive update on Olivia’s progress seem light years away – did it really even happen to us?
I watch Olivia play on the mat in the early morning sunshine, and I marvel at the miracle in front of me… to think, had I not the faith and the stubborn belief that we could make it, had I listened to the Doctors early warnings of deformity, mortality and more, had I made the choice to terminate this little mite, I would not be able to watch this dinky, strong, feisty, loving little girl busily moving around the floor, playing with this and that, jabbering quietly and coming over every now and then to give her mum a cuddle, flash that heart melting smile of hers and show me the toy she just discovered…
And then I am thankful, so very thankful that I was brought up in a Christian home, that I have the mother I do and the family that jumped to our support. Without my faith and special people this miracle girl would not be here, and we would not have completed our family and we would have missed out on so, so much joy!
And were it not for the very dedicated and supportive Dr Coetsee, who stood by me then and still does to this day even though I am no longer his patient, and Dr Karl, Olivia’s Paediatrician who came to visit me every day I was in ICU and update me on Olivia’s progress and just chat to keep my spirits up, and the amazing neonatal staff at Umhlanga Hospital who sent me text messages from Olivia and photo’s to keep me fighting and in fact all the medical staff along the way who I will never be able to adequately thank, our life as we know It today would not be. He put them in our path and led us to this place and for that I feel so very blessed.
Shane and I feel like the luckiest parents in the world to have been blessed with not one, not two, but three amazing strong, confident and loving little girls. When something like this happens you tend to re-evaluate your life and I am aware of just how much this has taught us. It has taught us strength, a strength I never thought I had. It has taught me to appreciate life and all of the little things. It has taught me trust, never at any point have I felt alone, it has taught me acceptance, the strength to accept the hand I have been dealt, it has taught me human kindness and it teaches me still.
Olivia is doing so well, on the whole healthy and happy, a little on the small side, but we all know that dynamite comes in small packages. I am still battling with the after effects of all the surgeries and interventions, and people often comment that when Olivia is a difficult teenager I can remind her of what I went through to give her life, but each time it is said I have the same violent emotional reaction… my body let her down, she did nothing to me, nothing but be the bravest little mite I know and the feistiest little fighter around. I am so proud of her and couldn’t in a million years blame her for anything but bringing me closer to God and making me a better person.
I would do it all again in a heartbeat just to be able to
see her silly smile and tickle those tiny feet.
The world is a better place with you in it Olivia, and I
thank heaven above for my daughter and my life.
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