By age 30 I had just given birth to my third little boy. I was tired and I felt that having a baby past the age of 30 wouldn't be a good idea. My mom was 36 when she had me and she was the "old mom" in our group. I always felt she was so out of touch and as a little child I was always afraid she would die lol. Since I didn't want to be the "old mom" I asked my husband to get a vasectomy. He agreed. The deal was done. After 8 years of infertility, one miscarriage and 3 healthy boys under the age of 6 I felt like we had done very well for ourselves and I thanked God for what I had been given.
Fast forward five years. I'm 35, I don't feel "old", in fact, I feel younger than I did at 30. Having a baby sounded like something I could do. I wasn't tired anymore. I had had a 5 year rest, well , you know what I mean. And above and beyond all these rationalizations was the plain old fact that I wanted a baby. Just one more, before I really was too old and possibly unable to conceive again.
I prayed, I pondered, I did internet research and then...I approached my husband with the idea of having his vasectomy reversed. He wholeheartedly agreed. Now, we live in a city known for it's fine hospitals but after finding a Dr. with a 95 percent success rate I asked the hubs to travel all the way to Minnesota. He agreed and spent a weekend in Minneapolis having the procedure and spending a day recovering. I had absolute faith in this Dr. and within 8 months we were pregnant.
I had horrible morning sickness with every baby and this was no exception so I was very sick all the time. Zofran saved my sanity!! It was the only way I could function. A few weeks after I found out I was pregnant I started bleeding. I was checked out and found that I had a massive hematoma in my uterus, the biggest they had seen. They feared for my baby's life and didn't think he would have enough room to grow. I cried all the way home from the sonogram, I mean uncontrollably. Then, out of the blue, I had this feeling that everything would be ok. I knew it was God and from then on, no matter how bad things got, and they got bad, I just kept believing. I had to be on modified bed rest and get an ultrasound every week or two. It was the scariest thing in the world.
One Saturday morning at 13 weeks, I woke to bleeding, vomiting and leaking fluid. I was sure my water had broken. Luckily my sister had spent the night and she took me to the hospital. Tim was at work. When I arrived, the Dr. said my water had probably broken and more than likely the baby was gone. I was devastated but I held on. Amazingly enough during the ultrasound, there he was, we saw his little heart beat.
I went home and rested and just took it one day at a time. It was so hard. At 34 weeks I became so ill. I was almost blacking out and seeing floaters. Funnily enough, the thing that made me go to the Dr. was a horrendous sore throat. At the end of my appointment, just as they were about to release me, I heard my Dr. gasp aloud. She hadn't looked at my blood pressure and the nurse never bothered to tell her how high it was. She didn't give me the number, just said that they needed to call an ambulance right then. My husband was with me and they told me if I could get to the hospital right then they would let me go on my own. We honestly thought it would be faster than waiting for the ambulance. We were there in a flash.
The Dr. checked me, left the room and when he came back he told me that I was extremely sick and that I would be having the baby that night. He checked the protein in my urine. He said a bad number was 300, a very bad number was 1,000. My levels were at 30,000. He said, in 25 years of practice he had never seen anyone with such bad pre eclampsia. They turned the lights off and the tv in my room so I wouldn't stroke out. My sister wasn't allowed in, only my husband. Pitocin was started even before they gave me bp meds because they had to start labor. My head was spinning. I've almost lost this baby a hundred times and if that Dr. hadn't checked my bp, which is crazy that they almost overlooked it, me and my baby could be dead.
The pitocin and epidural worked quickly, so quickly that the second my water broke, the baby started delivering himself. The Dr. was not around because they had no warning, it all happened so quickly. The nurse had to deliver my little man. It took him a while to cry and that was all I could focus on at first. But, since the baby was out and I had been given so much blood pressure medication, my BP plummeted to 43/20. The Dr. arrived and quickly called in two other Dr's and a team of nurses.
I started to lose my hearing. The Dr. explained that all my blood was leaving my extremities to keep my heart pumping. I kept passing out. I asked if I was going to die. My Dr's reply was simply, "I hope not". After a lot of ammonia under my nose and meds to stabilize my bp I was ok once again. My husband was crying and almost passed out from the shock. My little guy was rushed to the NICU because he was having breathing problems.
I couldn't see or hold him till the next day. He was so tiny. 5 pounds, 3 oz. Almost half the size of two of my other boys. But, he was healthy and I was alive. I had to stay a day longer than usual and my baby was now only 4 pounds 9 oz. but he was cleared to go home. I have looked at him in wonder and amazement for 3 years now and even before that in his constant ultrasound pics. He's so big and healthy, he's incredibly bright and makes me laugh every day. In the end, God's promise of it all being ok came true. Little Rhys Patrick Owczarzak is going to be three years old in a few short weeks. A baby,that at age 30,I was sure I would never want. A huge change of my mind. A post vasectomy miracle. He survived it all. The hematoma, the bed rest, the pre-eclampsia and crazy birth. To me and our family, he's the boy that almost wasn't. My little chubby faced, belly laughing, mommy loving miracle. They do happen, every day, and for us, it was a long succession of miracles. It's funny because he has this quality about him, this specialness, this "shine". I know it's there to remind me of everything I went through to bring this person into the world. And everything that he went through to get to me.
Proud to be sharing at The Farmhouse Porch Welcome to Week 53 of The Cowgirl Up!
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