30 years ago tomorrow our middle son, Dan, was born in Portland, Oregon. He is an extraordinary young man and I am grateful to have him in my life. I am going to share our story of a very special January 2, 1981.
After Del and I married in 1978 we believed that adding to our family would be as easy as falling off a log because we had each had a child without difficulty in our previous marriages, but that was not to be the case. After well over one year, and thanks to modern medicine, we conceived. It was the same month Mt. St. Helens erupted and we were living in Oregon at the time. I distinctly recall hearing it. In any case, it seems an interesting coincidence.
All seemed well and we were thrilled to be expecting. Weeks and then months passed without a hitch. I was a nurse at the time and one fateful evening Del was driving me to work when I realized something was terribly wrong. I was overwhelmed with panic and Del sped to the hospital to take me there as a patient instead of my going to work there that night. I could not believe that after waiting so long, wishing so hard, and praying so much that we might lose our child. I was only 24 weeks along. In my mind I was crying, "No, no, no, please no!"
At the hospital they put me in the ambulance and transported me across town to their larger hospital where I was whisked into the Labor and Delivery Unit, where they began giving me blood transfusions, and then they took me to radiology for an ultrasound. Thirty years ago ultrasounds were done in emergencies or special situations, not done routinely as they are today. I was diagnosed with a complete placenta previa which means the placenta was over the opening leaving the uterus rather than on the inside wall of the uterus, much like a drain plug in a bath tub, and it was bleeding. If it kept bleeding faster than they could give blood to me they would be forced to deliver our baby by emergency C section or take the risk of losing both of us. Del and I were both terrified.
The hemorrhaging stopped temporarily, and I had to stay in the hospital where I would remain until Dan was born by C section, and our hope was that we could delay that until he had a reasonable chance of survival.
I was in the hospital, on bed rest the majority of the stay, for 67 days over which time it would happen three more times. I could not be any farther than minutes from the labor and delivery operating room. During those 67 days we were on a roller coaster ride of terror and hope. Each time just when we believed surgery was inevitable we were blessed with an opportunity to wait a while longer.
Del was incredible. He worked, cared for our eldest, David, and visited me every day. We lived far out in the country so that was not an easy feat. We visited the neonatal intensive care unit together to prepare ourselves should delivery have to be sooner than we hoped.
We made it to just four weeks shy of the due date for which we remain grateful, and they scheduled the surgery. Dan was delivered safely and did not require admission to the NICU. We were elated.
At this time of every year I think of our incredible good fortune of having Dan in our family, how wonderful my husband and eldest son were to me through the terrifying ordeal, how fantastic the doctors and nurses were in caring for us, and how blessed we are as a family.
New Years Day has had a very special meaning to me for thirty years. Happy New Years Day, and a special Happy Birthday to Dan!
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