Our Miracle

The feeling of having control is a comforting feeling. Knowing that we can dictate how things are done brings a sense of calmness to oneself. Well, when your significant other is pregnant, welcome to a period of the most powerless you will ever feel.

My fiance and I did not have the most prototypical pregnancy. Evelyn, years prior, was found to have precancerous cells on her cervix. They were found during a routine pap smear. Results came back abnormal and so she had to return to have a biopsy.

The results were not as terrifying as hearing that someone has full-fledged cancer but hearing precancerous is still alarming. The doctor advised a Leep procedure. During this procedure the doctor utilizes a surgical tool that uses voltage excise abnormal tissue from the cervix.

The procedure was a success; however, there was a downside to it as well. The doctor told us that while conceiving a child has not been impeded upon, *carrying* the child will be difficult. Any pregnancy would have a higher chance of miscarriage. This news weighed heavily. Even though we were not planning a family any time soon, we knew that when we wanted to, we would be facing a difficult path to having a child.

Fast forward to the surprise, elation, and of course, fear of finding out we were now planning a family. We immediately scheduled an appointment with an OBGYN, we informed them of the Leep procedure. At the time, it was not guaranteed that Evelyn would be able to carry our baby.

The OBGYN measured the wall of her cervix and determined the best course of action would be to perform a cerclage procedure. Basically, the OBGYN would tie close the opening of the cervix to help strengthen it. Imagine a draw-string bag. On top of that, she would need to have Progesterone shots every week. She was now considered a high-risk pregnancy.

The Progesterone shot was meant to prevent premature birth by preventing contractions. One of the side effects was nausea. Now, morning sickness is common among pregnancies, but we are talking ALL DAY sickness. Morning, noon, night, waking up in the middle of the night sick. It was debilitating.

About seven weeks into the pregnancy, things were getting worse. Evelyn was working overnights in retail, on top of classes in the daytime and the nausea made holding anything down impossible for Evelyn. We ended up in the ER. She had lost dramatic weight and was incredibly dehydrated. She was so dehydrated that her veins had shriveled. It took two nurses multiple attempts each to find her vein. It left Evelyn with bruising around the two areas they tried to inject her. They set her up with two bags of saline solution to re-hydrate her and they gave her an injection of Zofran.

Now Zofran, if you are not aware, has had some mixed reviews in the medical community. Some studies have claimed it can be attributed to birth defects. Others have stated it was safe and has no effect on the fetus. Our initial fear of what it would do to the child lead us to research on the subject and really sit down and speak with our provider to ensure it would not negatively impact the pregnancy. Our Dr. had studied this same issue and had already determined that there was insufficient evidence-based research to suggest it can be linked to any birth defects. The Dr. gave Evelyn a prescription for Zofran. Instructed her to take it anytime she felt nauseous so that she could alleviate the symptoms and gain back the weight she had lost.

With all of this chaos and fear, came a spark of joy, hope and excitement. We got our first glimpse at our little miracle baby. Hearing the heartbeat for the first time, holding her hand and seeing the screen at our little raspberry sized baby. It was tears. It feels difficult to even put in words how it truly felt because it was so surreal. Seeing the actual heart beating on the screen, knowing that was a piece of each of us. It was incredible.

The pregnancy brings about a flux of hormones in a woman. Your significant other is experiencing a change that seems so sudden and is jarring. The outpouring of emotions is as random and unpredictable as anything in life can be. No matter what though, you cannot be upset or off-putting by any of it. It is all a part of the cycle. Hell hath no fury like a pregnant woman who (insert any minor, or tiny insignificant inconvenience). It isn’t just anger either, its moments of extreme sadness for no apparent reason as well.

Have no fear though, because the highs outweigh the lows.

We were progressing in the pregnancy and at thirty-six weeks it was time to remove the Cerclage. The doctor informed us that when this happens the baby could be coming at any moment. We had a higher chance of delivering preterm. The Dr. said it was common amongst woman in our situation, and so now we were with the OBGYN every other week in the last month and a half to continue to measure the thickness of the cervix as well as checking the rotation of the baby and seeing if it was settling into a head-down, birthing, position.

Every day felt like an eternity waiting to get the call.

Here we are now. Thirty-nine weeks and a few days in. We have passed the point of fearing premature birth and we are in a daze because anytime in the next week, we’re going to be parents.

The night before delivery we’re at home, eating tamales. Then the contractions hit. Holy Crap. It’s real, it’s go time. We waited until the contractions were ten minutes apart, and then rushed to the hospital. We got there around 10 p.m. They put us in a room and they measured her to see if she was ready for delivery or where we were.

False alarm, she was only 2 cm dilated. They sent us home. We were in what is called “pre” labor.

All night, no sleep for Evelyn, contractions every ten minutes and then down to eight minutes. 6:30 a.m. and we were back at the hospital. The drive to the nearest Kaiser hospital was about 35-45 minutes, depending on traffic. Once again, they told us to go home because even though the contractions were getting closer together, she was still 2 cm dilated. Evelyn needed to be 5 cm before they would admit her.

We refused to leave and instead we were told to walk. Walk up and down the hallway to try to help. So poor Evelyn is here walking (with me alongside her to help her) as she doubles over from the pain of the contractions. Finally, around 10 a.m. we are admitted.

Evelyn’s water never broke on its own either. It had to be done by the Midwife at the hospital to prepare and help speed along the delivery process. For the entire day, Evelyn is stuck at 7 cm. They ended up giving her an IV drip of Pitocin to help dilate her further. Hours go by. We’re waiting for an epidural because the pain has been unbearable for her. We ask what is happening and why we are still waiting. They tell us their anesthesiologist is stuck in a surgery and both of the backups were called into an emergency surgery.

Around 8 p.m. the anesthesiologist comes into the room to administer the epidural. Some relief for Evelyn. She has been an absolute trooper through this whole day of labor. The epidural allows her to get some rest after being awake the past 24 hours. I try to sleep but I am just too anxious and worried for Evelyn and the baby.

Ezra, as we had named him, did not flip over. Although he was head down, he was facing upwards. This is very rare and is called being “sunny-side up”. The midwife assured us there would be no harm and that Ezra would be born safely, although the reality of an emergency cesarean now became an option. The midwife wanted to continue with normal childbirth to see how Evelyn progresses before she considered it the only option.

11:00 p.m. The Midwife comes in. Proceeds to check. Full dilation. It is go time. I help support one of Evelyn’s legs so that she can push against me while I hold her hand. Evelyn’s mother is in the room as well and was asked to hold the other leg. Her mother ends up getting lightheaded with all of it and had to sit down on the chair in the birthing room. So a nurse held her other leg and it is time for Ezra to take center stage.

The actual pushing happened so fast. He was born within fifteen minutes of the laborious pushing. 2:30 a.m. On his due date. The first one in the hospital born that day. 7lbs 19.5”. Most importantly, healthy.

Nothing prepares you for that moment. It is an out of body experience. Just subliminal joy. Hearing him cry for the first time. Watching the doctor deliver our son and then getting to cut the umbilical cord.

If you are not a father, you won’t understand the feeling and it quite honestly cannot be put into words. Joy, of course, but the out of body experience, the overwhelming emotions are indescribable.

Seeing the love of my life hold our son. It was like something out of a dream. Just the most-pure form of happiness you could ever see.

They wheeled Evelyn to help her change and clean up and I got to hold my little boy for the first time. The feeling of holding him, the dim lighting of the room, the smell of him, a newborn baby. All of it. You remember every detail.

Evelyn endured one of the most brutal nine months a pregnant woman can endure. Yet, she took every day as a new day, persevered and pushed through. I can’t even thank her enough for all she did and went through to carry Ezra and suffer the hardships that came with it. After his birth and holding him for the first time, she proudly and lovingly said she would gladly do it all over again for our little miracle boy.

That is exactly what Ezra is, a miracle. He and Evelyn defied the odds and he was born healthy and perfect.

-Brandon Morales