MY THREE STORIES

My Arrival
Well, I guess it all began with me. My name is Carmen-Ann Galea MacDonald. I was born 28 years ago at 28 weeks gestation. This is my story. My mom started having stomach pain after my dad had left for work early one July morning in 1981. My mother called my grandmother  who drove her to the hospital. Once admitted the doctors told her that she was going into preterm labour. They gave her medication to stop the contractions. My 'Nana' called my dad and other family members. The medication did not work. I was coming out. As the doctor was scrubbing his hands my mother delivered me on an exam table- I almost fell to the floor. My mother started praying. The name 'Ann' came to her.The doctors showed me to my mother and told her I had not made it. Weighing in at only 1 pound 10 ounces I was small for gestation and unfortunatley had died. "But her eyes are fluttering" my mother shouted. "Involuntary reactions of the body are common" is what the doctors told her. They wrapped me up, put me on a gurny in the hallway and gave my mother medication to make her sleep. Meanwhile my father arrived. He was told I had died. So being a strict Roman Catholic  he immediatley went looking for a priest to come and perform the "last rites' and bless my body. He fouund a priest who was walking in the hospital hallway on his way to see another patient. My father stopped him and asked if he could please bless his little baby girl who had just died. The holy man agreed. He lifted the blanket off my head and miraculously heard a weak little cry. He grabbed me and rushed me to the nurses station. It's a miracle my father said- "what can we do?" he asked the priest. "Name her Carmen please, as this is th feast of  Our Lady of Mount Carmel " he said. Meanwhile my mother came to, and was told that I was alive. She thought that someone was confused. "you must have me mixed up" "my baby died" she said. Family came and told her what had happened. My mother was in shock. I was transfered by helicopter to The Hospital for Sick Children. My mother was told to stay in the hospital and rest for a while.  She refused. She checked herself out and came to be with me at Sick Kids. I was tiny, but a fighter. I needed minimal oxygen, no ventilator, or CPAP, no problems at all just tiny. My mother was told that if I  survived I would have severe imparements- mental retardation, hearing loss, blindness.... my mother refused to believe it.  As I grew slowly, and was released from the hospital and sent home we continued to go to follow-up appointments, the doctors were shocked, surley she is going to have limitations they kept saying, even when I was three years old and walking and talking just fine- they kept telling my parents to be prepared for complications. My parents stopped taking me to follow-up due to this. I turned out just fine. I am a graduate of The University of Toronto, and am a wife and mother of a preemie of my very own. I know how lucky I am to be alive and to have beat the odds, I know most preemies are not as lucky.

 My Angel

Almost wenty six years later, after trying for two years, I was pregnant. I was so happy. My husband Charles was too. My 'Nana' was the first one we told. We had been trying to concieve. I was taking pregnancy tests every month. When it finally came back positive we were all so happy. But just a couple of weeks after the positive pregnancy test, and even before my first doctors appointment, I started spotting. I was terrified and went to the emergency room. The doctor confirmed that I was indeed pregnant, but was probably going to lose the baby soon. Go home and wait they told me. I went home and cried. A few weeks later the bleeding stopped. I was seen by my gynacologist who prescribed progesterone. I took it and was feeling great. No more bleeding, My tummy was getting bigger. The baby was doing fine. I was about 16 weeks pregnant. At work one morning (I work as a Behaviour Therapist for children with Autism) I noticed some cramping, then spotting. Crying I told my boss I had to leave. (They all knew something was wrong, I was showing very early in my pregnancy, and all my co-workers knew I was pregnant.) I went to my doctors. She prescribed no more work and bed rest. A few days later the bleeding stopped, the baby was checked and doing fine again, but to be safe I was not to return to work. I felt that this baby was a girl. I knew I had to name her 'Grace'  but I also knew deep down that something would be wrong. How wrong is what I was not prepared for.

It was the weekend before my 26th birthday my 'Nana' was spending the weekend with us and my mother and sister were coming to visit and celebrate with us. Nana and I had just finished lunch. My husband was at work, and mom and sister were driving up to see us (we live about 2 hours away). My stomach started hurting. I thought that maybe I had eaten too much. Nana suggested that I lay down, So I did. I couldn't sleep. The pain was getting worse. My husband would be home soon,I thought maybe when he gets here we could go to the doctors or hospital and check it out. The pain turned from bad to worse. My husband arrived, as did my mother and sister. We got to leave now I said. My mother and my husband took me to the Emergency room. My water broke in the car. I lost alot of blood. We arrived at the hospital. I was immediatly brought up to labour and delivery. I was just 20 weeks pregnant. They tried to stop the labour. I was given medication and was told to let nature takie it's course either the labour would stop or I would deliver. My mother and husband went to make some phone calls, the nurses and doctors left to let me rest. Less than two hours after being admitted I delivered my tiny Angel. Alone. I named her "Grace" as I felt that should have been her name from the begining. I was allowed to hold her and say goodbye. We buried her on my 26th birthday.

 After losing Grace we were devestated. The Doctors did not know why I had delivered so prematurley, I kept blaming myself. Time passed, I went back to work earlier than I had to, I just couldn't sit at home and cry anymore. I made a special box with pictures of her, her hospital blanket, a teddy bear... It helped to know I could look at her picture whenever I wanted. I slept with the hospital blanket she was wrapped in for months.

My Caleb

I got pregnant shortly after. I was scared. After my ob/gyn told me that I could no longer be a patient of hers as she felt that I had "too many problems" she referred me to a general practioner.  This new doctor was shocked that the ob/gyn had dismissed my earlier complications and was shocked that a specialist would refer me to a general practionner considering what had happened. My new family doctor sent me to another ob/gyn. He was head of obstetrics at the hospital near me, and his specialty was ultrasounds. At our first visit he said things were going well, but to come back every few weeks. I continued to work. I was showing at three months.  I felt good. Happy again. But then at 16 weeks I started to spot. The next day I went to my ob/gyn. He diagnosed me with incompetent cervix. He said that a general lab tech would probably have missed it, but because of his state of the art machines , combined with his experience, he was able to see that my cervix was begining to open prematurely. Right away I was addmitted to hospital, and my doctor performed a cerclage/stich to keep my cervix from opening. I was sent home, and put on bed rest again.  Both the doctor and I felt confidant in the cerclage operation. I rested. I went to weekly appointments, but then just two weeks later, during a routine ultrasound the doctor found that the stich was not holding. I was again readmitted to hospital and given another cerclage in my cervix.  I went back on bed rest, but this time felt a bit nervous, 'what if this stich does not hold' I kept wondering. I made it to 20 weeks and was thrilled. At 22 weeks I felt my baby kick. I knew it would be a boy, and I was to name him Caleb- the name again just came to me- almost like I did not have a choice, just like Grace,j ust like the name Ann came to my mother. Every week I kept asking the doctor when I could get celestone (a drug to incresase the development of the lungs) just in case the baby was to come early. The doctor said that he would not give it before 24 weeks as he said that the baby was non-viable (unable to live) before then.

At 23 weeks I started to bleed. It was the middle of the night. We ran red lights getting to the hospital. My doctor was awoken from his warm bed. He removed the stiches that were not holding and said that there was nothing more we could do. Hopefully the baby would hold on. I started having mild contactions within 10 minutes. They gave me drugs to stop the labour. I thought I peed myself, but it turns out I had started to leak amniotic fluid. I called my mom crying. Get to Toronto she said, maybe they can do something, anything. I talked to my doctor. He was leery about sending me, although the baby's only chance of survival (if he/she holds on) would be to send me to Toronto, where they have a level three NICU, the worst thing that could happen was to give bith in a helicopter, but what choice did I have? He gave me celestone earlier than he wold have liked  and sent me on my way. I was air lifted to Women's College Hospital (Sunnybrook). As I was wheeled in to the helicopter, my contractions amazingly stopped.

I made it to the hospital no longer in labour. The outlook was grim. If you deliver the baby will not survive, I was told. At one point I had five doctors surronding me, telling me before 25 weeks, most die, do not recussitate, I was told, it would only be torture. I cried, but vowed I would give my baby every chance I could, I don't care if he has delays, if he is blind, deaf, unable to speak, walk, or talk, the decision was up to God, not me. Recussitate  and save him at all costs I told them. I prayed.

The nurses told me that I could deliver anytime, or that  I could even go full term,  no one knew. I was hopefull. My husband stayed with me for five days and then on June 6th went back home to go to work- you will be here for months he said. My mom came to stay with me. I was upset to see my husband go. I had a bad feeing. That night I went into labour. There was no stopping it this time. I was now 24 weeks along. My husband made it with minutes to spare. Caleb Charles MacDonald was born on June 7th at 5:19 am weighing only  518 grams (1 pound 2 ounces).

He had severe Respitory distress syndrome his eyes were fused shut, his skin looked like jello. He might not make it through the night I was told. He did. He required much help for the four months that we spent in the NICU. He had Respritory distress syndrome, which required him to be ventilated for two months. We tried twice in those two months to get him off the ventalator, to prevent long term damage, but he just couldn't do it yet, The second time we tried to wean him off the ventilator and on to CPAP he almost didn't make it. He needed to be bagged and required CPR. He had so many bradys the doctors thought he was having seizures, they thought he had a heart murmmer, but thankfully they were wrong about both. He required 4 blood transfusions, and came down with sepsis twice. We finally got him off the ventilator and on to CPAP with the help of a controversial drug called dexamethosone. But we would still face stage 3 ROP, severe chronic lung disease (bronchiopulmonary dysplasia) and stridor.

After 116 days in the NICU Caleb came home. He is now 20 months old or 16 corrected. He is the happiest little guy I have ever seen. He is doing well. We still have some lung and stridor issues as he still has severe chronic lung disease.  But nothing we can't handle, he needs two nebulizer treatment a day, but  he didn't  need to come home with oxygen as we initally thought.To look at him you would never know what he has been through.  He can walk, and see and hear and he even said his first word. He is such a joy. He was supposed to be non-viable, but here he is, but then again I was dead and here I am. Believe in miracles. Ido.

Me (Carmen) at 28 weeks- 1 pound 10 ounces                 Caleb 24 weeks 1 pound 2 ounces (518 grams)

Us now.