Do You Believe In Miracles?

Our son was born five weeks premature on May 11, 2006. I  started having pre-term labor around my 7th month of the pregnancy. The contractions wouldn't stop so I was sent to St. Mary's in St. Louis. I spent a whole week there which was pure hell. When I finally came home, I was put on bed rest and I was prescribed a medication for the contractions. It was a blood pressure medicine called Procardia. After being on bed rest for awhile, I noticed one day that my son wasn't moving. He didn't move the whole day. Finally that night, I mentioned it to my mom and she immediately took me to Anderson Hospital in Maryville. They hooked me up to a monitor and saw that my son's heartbeat had dropped. After about an hour my doctor came in and saw that his heartbeat was improving so they did an ultrasound. He still wasn't moving. My doctor's exact words were "If he doesn't move within the next 15 minutes, we are doing an emergency C-section." At that point, I was losing it. I had just expected to go in there and leave after awhile. Just an in and out thing. So I was freaking out. I was shaking all over and I felt sick to my stomach. Within the next 15 minutes they were preparing me for surgery. My husband was at work so my mom had to call him and tell him that we were having a baby. My husband made it to the hopsital just in time, right before they rolled me in. The nurses had to try three different times to get the epideral in, which sucked. But once they got it in and I laid down on the table, the baby was out within minutes. I remember seeing him being carried over to a table to be wiped off and he was a bright red color. He wasn't crying either. Our son had to be rushed to Cardinal Glennon because he was having problems breathing and his blood was acidic. My husband went with our son while my mom stayed with me. When the c-section was over and I was rolled back into my room, the paramedics rolled my son in. He was in an incubator machine on a stretcher. I was only able to touch his hand and say good-bye. He was so little and fragile, only weighing 5lbs. 2oz. I found out the next day that St. Mary's had actually prescribed me double the medication than what my doctor wanted me taking. My doctor told me if we would have waiting any longer to deliver our son, he probably wouldn't have made it. So we are almost positive that the procardia was the cause. I was released that day. (24 hours later) I immediately went with my husband to see our son. Our son was at Cardinal Glennon for two weeks. He recovered very quickly, though he had several blood tranfusions. During the second week of our son being at the hospital, I had developed an infection in my uterus. I never let myself rest and heal because I was constantly at the hospital. I had to go back to Anderson hospital for two days. That was torture. My poor husband didn't know where to go because both me and my son were in hospitals. Once I was released, it was only a few days after that when our son finally got to come home. When he came he had to be hooked up to a portable breathing monitor. We had to keep it on him 24/7. He was only home for five days. The fifth night, his monitor kept going off. It was scaring me and my husband so we called the pediatrition (and it was 1:00 AM) and she said to take him back to Cardinal Glennon to the ER. So we did and once we got there, they evaluated him and wanted to keep over night to observe him for 24 hours. Once we got into our private patient room, I fed him a bottle before we went to bed which was 3:00 a.m. (the room had a futon that folded out into a bed for me and my husband to sleep on) After I fed him, he was incredibly fussy so the nurse came in and offered to take him so we could get some sleep. So I let her. Around 7:00 that same morning, we awake to doctor we've never seen before. Our son is nowhere to be found, he was still gone. The doctor tells us that they are concerned about his belly. She said it was swelling up like a balloon and had thrown up the bottle I fed him. After she left the room, I ran out into the hallway trying to frantically ask a nurse where our son was. She told me to go back to our room and she would send a doctor in to talk to us. So ignoring her, I ran back towards our room to find a different nurse and as I'm coming up to our door, the door to the room across from us opens. In the room are at least 20 nurses and doctors all crowded around a tiny baby who is screaming. At that moment it felt like my heart dropped into my stomach. I couldn't breathe. At that moment a different doctor tries to explain to me what's going on and then before I know it we are running after our son who is being rushed down to the intensive care. Once we got there, they were shoving a breathing tube down his throat, putting in IVs everywhere, hooking him up to a bunch of monitors, etc. I have broken down at this point bawling my eyes out. All we could do is just stand there helplessly as we watch all of these doctors and nurses running around everywhere doing all these things to our son. After what seemed like an eternity, our son's surgeon explains to us that our son has an intestinal disease called Necrotizing Enterocolits. He went on explaining that it's a very rare disease that only occurs in babies that are either premature or born with problems. The disease eats away at the intestines until the baby dies. There's no cure for it. The only hope is to do surgery. One of the doctors told us to go out into the waiting room. So we both start calling our families to tell them what has happened. The next day both of our families are there and the doctor tells us she needs to have a family meeting with us. Once we all got into a private room, the doctor tells us that our son's case is very severe and it will be a miracle if he survives. We both just sat there not really taking in what the doctor just told us. I cried a little but I was just in shock. I was still trying to take in all that had happend over the last 24 hours. I just couldn't believe it, like it was a dream. I didn't want to believe it. The following day, they did one of three surgeries to see how much intestine was really damaged. They said the longer they're in the operating room, the better. They said it might just be an open and close thing. Because if too much intestine was damaged, they would close back up and let him go pretty much. The surgery took longer than they predicted and they told us there was a large quantity damaged but there was still hope. The second surgery was done two days later. They went in and removed all of the dead intestine and brought the two ends of the intestine to the skin and he then wore an ostomy bag. He spent a week in the intensive care and most of the time that he was in intensive care, his whole body was swollen because of the dead intestine. Here's this three week old tiny baby who swelled up to the size of a five or six month old. It didn't look like the same baby. At one point they had to sedate and paralyze him because it was too painful for him to move. He spent six weeks in recovery. We spent our whole summer at Cardinal Glennon. The third and final surgery was to go in and re-connect the two ends of the intestines. The surgery was a sucess. Doctors were predicting that our son wouldn't go home until Thanksgiving and that he would be going home on an IV and that he would be on a special diet and that he would alway be small due to the lack of intestine. They were wrong on everything. Our son came home on August 12, 2006, he didn't come home on anything, he's not on a special diet and he's not a small baby. Today he's a 22lbs. 11 month old who can do everything except crawl and walk. Though he lost over half of his intestines, he's just a normal baby now. We are working on the walking though. I don't think he will crawl, he's more interested in walking. We have come a long way with him. He's a very strong-willed little guy who is determined to live life to the fullest. I thank God everyday that our little boy is still here with us today. I always heard the saying "miracles really do happen" and before we had our son, I never really believed in miracles. But that has all changed. I think it was the determination and help from God that kept our son alive through that critical week. Everyone including people we didn't even know were praying for our son. I have faith now and I witnessed a miracle happen right before my eyes. Miracles really do happen, do you believe?
hardas07 hardas07
18-21, F
2 Responses Apr 5, 2007

Yes, I do believe in miracles. Here is one I witnessed, also to do with a premature baby. Not my son, I was one of his nurses.<br />
He was in NICU because when he was born at 26 weeks gestation he was very pale and not breathing on his own. He was put on a ventilator, but it was discoveres that he hadan extremely rare blood group, and his haemoglobin was so low it was incompatible with life. He was not getting enough oxygen to his brain and we had to send away to another country to get his blood type. This took time a long time.<br />
In the mean tie even though he was receiving as much oxygen as possible, his blood oxygen levels were extremely low at about 20 - 30%. Totally incompatible with life.<br />
His relatives, particularly his aunt were at his side all the time. They prayed and prayed for him, and sang Christmas carols to him at it was close to christmas. This went on for days, until suddenly for no apparant reason, his heart rate picked up, his oxygen levels increased. It was in the middle of the night. I just watched the monitors in amazement, my mouth open in disbelief.<br />
Eventually the right blood arrived and we were able to transfuse him. We weaned him off his ventilator, got him taking milk, and he went home for Christmas.<br />
We were still dubious as to how normal he would be, but he came back to see us a normal healthy toddler.<br />
Was this a miracle, or what??

I absolutely believe in miracles. I don't think they come along very often and not at our bidding, but I absolutely think they occure. I do believe they are from God and not just random acts of nature.