by Kasi Gonzales

“’Oh it’s a boy… but I feel your best bet at this point is to terminate this pregnancy.'”

Not quite the words you’re expecting to hear at your 20 week ultrasound for your highly anticipated and so far healthy first pregnancy.

Though he didn’t look me in the eye, his own eyes gazed over my head as though there was something much more interesting dancing behind me. The words came out of the OBGYN’s mouth so naturally, as though he had said them a thousand times. No feeling, no emotion. Just cold.

Immediately, my Marine Corps husband of two years, came across the table, looked the doctor square in the eye with a look I never want to see again and simultaneously we both replied, “That’s NOT an option.”

From the ultrasound, we discovered that I only had less than a centimeter of amniotic fluid protecting my baby. The rest of that appointment and the next few months were a blur. I remember learning that with the amount of fluid that was lacking around my baby, his lung and kidney formation would be seemingly impossible. I remember the doctor telling me that “if” the baby was born, he would never be able to breathe on his own and we would only have minutes with him alive.

My husband, took that information and never faltered in his belief that we would have a perfectly healthy son that he would play baseball with and watch and reenact WWE moves with. I, on the other hand, took what the doctors had said at face value. I figured if we had minutes to be parents we would be the best parents we could, and love him fiercely for as long as we could.

We were sent home with ultrasound pics and not really much else. I was told to take it easy and come back if I experienced any more issues. Our friends greeted us when we got back to our apartment with BOY onesies and cute little socks. I took them and loved them not knowing if we would ever get to see them on our son.

A month later, I stood up from the couch and my water broke. Not just a little, but full on water breaking- movie style. My first thought was “surely there must have been more fluid than they thought!”

We rushed to the ER where I was admitted for monitoring. They wanted to induce labor, but we refused. I was only 24 weeks, and we knew viability at that gestation is pretty grim. They agreed to let me stay in the hospital and be monitored as long as I showed no signs of infection. We were in a teaching hospital. So, for the next few weeks EVERYDAY new doctors would come in and have to hear our issues all over again. EVERYDAY the NICU doctors would come in and tell me the percentage rate of survival of a “normal” pregnancy at whatever gestation we were at. “25 weeks 2 days today… oh his viability has gone up to 12%!” We knew those numbers were for a normal pregnancy and mine was anything but. I took the advice from a nurse and planned a funeral for a baby I’d never met. For some crazy reason that helped me cope.

May 27, 2008 at 6:10am (after almost 6 weeks in the hospital) my stress test monitor began making noise. I rolled over and simply shook it a little since this was a common occurrence. The little stinker kept rolling over the umbilical cord- I honestly thought nothing of it. In comes nurse number one. She’s moving the monitor tying to find the baby’s heartbeat. Nothing. Nurse two comes in. She hit a button on the wall and within seconds the room was flooded with nurses poking, prodding and moving me.  Then in walks Dr. Marriot. God’s funny like that. That was the only doctor I had seen previously and actually remembered her name. She looked about 19 years old, but boy did she know her stuff. I really liked when she had rounds. She looked at me and said “We’re going.” I objected telling them it was too early and that the baby needed to stay in just a few more weeks. Dr. Marriott wasn’t having it.

I was out of my room, completely intubated, knocked out, and my son Jaxon was out in less than 90 seconds.

I woke up a few hours later with no knowledge of what had happened. I wasn’t sure if they had taken him or if I was having an intense nightmare. The first day/night of Jaxon’s life were rough to say the least. He was born blue, and not breathing on his own. While I was still snoozing they hooked him up to more machines than I ever knew existed. Once I was able to comprehend what was happening the doctors suggested the nurse roll my bed into the NICU so I could see my son. He was a perfect little being. He was 3lbs 6oz of perfection. We weren’t able to touch him, but only look.

I had prepared myself for the moment I would first see him. I always knew he would be born and we would have to make decisions about his care. In that moment I distanced myself from him. I didn’t want to get attached when the doctors had been telling me for months that he wouldn’t make it. The day and night of his birth they came and got me out of my room four different times. Each time they told me it was the end and I needed to say good bye and be by his side when he died. I had different prayers each time I went in.

The first time went something like, “God, I know that you have plans for good for me. Why are you making ME suffer. Fix him.”

The second, “God, I’ve done everything the doctors have told me. This isn’t fair. You’re making me suffer when you could just fix the problem.”

The third, “God, I’m done putting my faith in you. You’re obviously not listening. These doctors are going to fix Jaxon and you’ll see.”

The fourth (on my knees, face down in the middle of the NICU), “God… the doctors have given up, only you can help my son. He’s suffering and we’re suffering. If you’re going to take him, please take him. If you’re going to fix him, do it. YOUR will be done. Not mine.” I told my son goodbye and went back to my room knowing that he wasn’t going to make it.

About a half hour later, the nurse came in and said his numbers had improved. He might make it through the night.

The next morning, he looked better and there were hopes that we might be able to make it through the week with him.

Less than a week later Jaxon was completely off all breathing machines and had only a feeding tube. He spent exactly 4 weeks in the NICU before he came home. On our way out of the hospital we stopped by the office of the doctor, who at 20 weeks, told us abortion was our ONLY option.

He looked at our, perfectly healthy, teeny tiny son, and told us he was sorry- and that he had taken his wife and three daughters to church the weekend prior for the first time in over 10 years.

God taught us so much through this journey. Most importantly our faith, hope, and expectations cannot be in the things of this world. The world is broken, and the only perfect thing in this world is the Holy Spirit gifted to us.

 

Curious?

• Contrast Genesis 42: 29-36 and Romans 8:28.
  • Which one of these phrases do you find yourself claiming? Why?

  Next, I’d like to tell you how Stem Cell Transplant is the best treatment for Nephrotic amerikabulteni.com prescription free levitra Syndrome. As result, kamagra purchased that generic viagra from canada tablets were developed. A simplified view of penile erection mechanism explains that click for more info order viagra india this function is influenced by hydraulic process of blood purification, Burdock boosts the immunity also. generic levitra Some of the online pharmacies and foreign pharmacies are producing the medicine and sell them online.

• List everything Romans 8 says about those in Christ.
  • Which ones do you have trouble accepting in your life? Find additional verses in scripture and pray to help with claiming this truth.

 

Really Curious????

• Read Psalm 44 (Romans 8:36 quotes from here)
  • What is the message of Psalm 44 and what is the connection to Romans 8?