Waiting

Walking With You

is happening again today, Monday. So in walking on this journey with the rest of these moms, I will be writing on topic with them today. Today is all about waiting. Waiting after you found out your baby either a) had a bad diagnosis or b) to deliver after finding out your baby has already passed.

"If you are a mother who has heard the words incompatible with life, what happened next for you? Share about the waiting if your journey continued. How did you walk that path? What were some of your feelings? What did you do to form lasting memories? What were your struggles? Things you found comfort in?"

We found out on a Friday that my water did indeed break. The ultrasound showed no fluid in Baby A's sac. We were almost 15 weeks. First option given was terminate because he could infect the other babies, in terminating, it could end up ending the other 2 baby's lives as well. It was an option for us. We believed in a miracle. We knew there was a less than 20% chance that Nathan would be born and could survive. We wanted to take that chance though because we know of the capabilities of the God we serve. I was scared. We had to be extremely careful not to go into labor because it would mean that I would deliver all 3 of the babies. I had to be careful not to get an infection because that could kill all the babies and myself. I felt like every day I was holding my breath. Each week we went to check on babies, cervix length, infection, anything else the dr could think of. Those few moments, I exhaled. I would see Nathan growing, though it has slowed down. I had seen the fluid in his kidneys and bladder, and I could see the pools of fluid above his neck, by his knee. I could also see and feel the constant leaking of the fluid. Just as fast as Nathan and I could make his fluid, it was seeping out. But, I could exhale. No infection. Cervix staying the same length. No signs that labor was looming. Then, another week of holding my breath. My husband whispering things like "keep fighting", "look to Jesus", "you have to meet your mommy and sister", and "love you". Waiting. Will our miracle happen? Will we make it past 24 weeks? Will Nathan survive this and then survive all the obstacles that come from growing with very little fluid?

Fast forward to a Saturday afternoon, just under 22 weeks pregnant. I was going to shower and then lay back down and relax. My husband was about to leave. My mother, who had been living with us for this pregnancy and planning to for the first few months after the babies were born, had left. My daughter was sleeping. I was exhausted, but that was nothing normal. It's exhausting carrying 3 babies. They take all reserves, they take all lung space, they take all energy at all. I miss that. I would give them everything all over if it meant they were still here. I felt nothing abnormal until I looked down, there was umbilical cord hanging out. It was Nathan's. He was on bottom. I screamed. Most everything is surreal from that point on. Ambulance came, so many people trying to keep pressure off Nathan's cord. They did all they could. I got to the hospital and found Nathan had passed. Too much pressure on his cord. I spiked a high fever. Decisions needed to be made fast. Dr's in and out of my room. Nurses, techs....all hurrying to monitor me and the babies. They must have taken my temp every 15 minutes. The high risk OB on call came in to tell us there were no more options. There was no more time to wait. Nathan's infection would soon pass to the other 2, and had already passed to me. We may be able to buy a few more days, maybe even 10 more which meant they would be "viable", stupidest word I've ever heard! Only problem with that was my fever was high. Too high. Sepsis was a very real concept at this point. That most likely would turn into death for me. My triplets would die. I would die. Anthony couldn't handle that. To be left just him and our daughter. He was very distraught, and I saw him age before my eyes. To be the leader of the family and have to make a decision like this...wife dies, children die....or risk children possibly living and wife most likely dying....it was too much for anyone. Dr's all advised to deliver. Even our dr who knows our beliefs, where we stand with all our children, our family, our faith. We decided to induce. We needed to wait a little longer. I needed to wait. I wanted my husband to go home and hold my daughter. Let her know it's ok. This was the first time she was away from mommy and daddy in her life. She woke up from her nap and we were gone. I wanted him to pick up the camera because I wanted pictures. I wanted my clothes, I wanted so much more that I couldn't have. I wish I had had time to talk more with a few close friends. To pray with them. I didn't though. My husband and I prayed and he left. During that hour and a half that I had to wait I went over and over in my head if this was our only option. I wondered what it would be like to die....I wondered if my body could fight this...if I COULD survive this and save Anthony Jr and Malia. I felt numb. I wondered if I should be feeling more. I prayed God would intervene and let Anthony and Malia survive. I prayed Nathan was ok and at peace when he passed. I prayed God would show Nathan how sorry I was that my body couldn't do more for him, that it had failed him. That I had failed him. I tried being strong. That the dr's could see my faith and my strength that came only from the One who gives strength at times like this. I didn't do a great job of that. I was a wreck. I heard everything going on around me, but couldn't focus. I waited some more. Antibiotics were put on IV the second I arrived at the hospital, but almost 8 hours later, my fever was only going up higher. My dr came into my room, sat down on the chair next to my bed, brought her knees to her chest and asked if she could wait with me for a bit. I am forever grateful to her for that. Her face was sad, her eyes filled with tears. She was and is the best dr a person could ask for in that moment. The waiting ended shortly after 7:30 that evening when they started the induction. It was real. It was all going to happen in the next 12 hours. We waiting as the contractions slowly got worse, the dilating took it's sweet time. Every hour I wanted to scream out "STOP! Stop this process. God can still step in!" One moment I would have peace about our decision, the next I would be in agony over losing them. I know it was the enemy attacking my peace. Every single moment ticked by with anguish. Every kick I felt from Anthony Jr and Malia, I wondered if it would be their last one. I wondered if they were in pain. If they knew what was about to happen. If God was granting them peace as well. I waited 12 hours from induction to delivery. It was the longest and shortest 12 hours of my life.

Prayer Requests for the Week:

Peace. I still struggle every day with thoughts of them moving inside of me in those last moments, knowing my body was forcing them out. I still struggle in wondering if I could have fought off the infection better, and if they would have been able to have a chance at life.

And the fertility process didn't start out like we had hoped last week, and my body has thrown in a few more curve balls, of course. Nothing is every easy. So peace and God's hand on every step of this process.