By Mami Daphne

The month of November is World Prematurity Awareness month and today marks World Prematurity Awareness Day. According to the March of Dimes - 1 out of 8 babies are born prematurely in the United States. Worldwide there are 13 million babies born too soon. Prematurity is the leading killer of America’s newborns. Those who survive often have lifelong health problems, including cerebral palsy, mental retardation, chronic lung disease, blindness and hearing loss. The goal of the March of Dimes Prematurity Campaign is to reduce the rate of premature birth and to raise public awareness about the seriousness of the problem. On this very important day March of Dimes will bring more attention and awareness of babies being born too soon. So please visit March of Dimes and “help moms have full-term pregnancies and research the problems that threaten the health of babies.”

Our Miracle Preemie - Amelia Rose

The March of Dimes organization is very close to my heart because of my own experience of giving birth to a premature baby.

Four and half years ago I was a 28 weeks pregnant, glowing mom-to-be for the second time around. During my first pregnancy I had a few complications. I developed HELLP syndrome and my baby boy was born at 36 weeks. He was a healthy baby and though only 5lbs he thankfully had no major complications. I was so blessed to have him and be able to take him home with me like most most moms would and should. A few years later, we decided to expand our family and in 2006 we found out that we were pregnant again. I was so excited that my son would be having a sibling. I did not worry for a moment that I would have any complications with this pregnancy. I truly believed this pregnancy would go without a hitch. Needless to say, I was completely wrong and I traveled on a journey that I never imagined I would be on.

At 28 ½ weeks gestational, I was on my way to my neonatal appointment. I dropped off my 4-year-old son at a friend’s house and off I went for my routine checkup. Little did I know, that on that day I would not return home. I would instead be on my way to the hospital. My blood pressure had elevated and preeclampsia had made its appearance once again during my pregnancy. What was to be a 24-hour observation stay in the hospital turned into news that I was to stay 10 weeks in the hospital until my baby was born. The doctors immediately ordered steroid shots to help my baby’s lungs to mature as a precaution if she were to come early. In hearing this news my head just spun and spun, trying desperately to process it all. I tried quickly to mentally take note of what needed to be done. My son and husband needed me and I had to keep my baby in utero for as long as I could.

By week 30 my blood pressure was getting gradually getting worse. My doctor felt he couldn’t wait anymore. It wasn’t safe for my baby or me. We had to deliver her and once the doctor made the final decision things went into motion. I was so scared and worried – it was too soon. We were suppose to get to at least 36 weeks - that would have been a safer time for her to enter into this world. I was so scared and in shock when I realized at 30 weeks gestational my daughter was going to be born.

Amelia Rose was born 10 weeks too early and was delivered via c-section. She weighed 3lbs – she was our miracle preemie. I heard her cry when she first came out and then they quickly whisked her away to the ICN (intensive care nursery) unit. I saw her for a very brief moment and I didn’t get a chance to hold her until 24 hours later. Those 24 hours were heartbreaking for me. How could I have not held my baby? Amelia spent her first 41 days of life at Presbyterian Hospital in Charlotte, NC. She spent those first few weeks fighting to grow and develop into the full term baby she should have been. We were told that her stay could be approximately the 10 weeks that she would have been in utero, as long as she did not have any complications or set backs.

My total hospital stay was 2 weeks. I was discharged without my daughter and placed on medication for my high blood pressure. I was given strict rules not to drive for several weeks and not to do a lot of moving around. I had to rest. Rest?!?! How could I rest when my baby needs me?!?! I had to get to the hospital everyday and I needed to pump my milk in order to get it to her. Everyday I filled small syringes that the ICN unit froze and they slowly gave her small amounts through her feeding tube. Family and friends came from near and far to help my husband and I with taking care of our son. They helped out with errands, meals and helped me once I came home to drive me to and from the hospital. I felt helpless but I knew the one thing I could do was be there for my daughter.

For the next 41 days I witnessed my baby girl begin her fight to be a healthy and strong baby. When I first saw my daughter 24 hours after she was born she was hooked up to all kinds of machines that were beeping. They completely frightened me as I held my breath. She had a CPAP that was helping her breathe in oxygen. Her eyes were covered with a mask in order to protect her from the bilirubin lamps inside her incubator and her skin was so thin and wrinkly. My husband and I were too scared to even pick her up – we were told she needed to save every calorie that she had and movement could burn calories that we did not want her to lose. She had already lost weight like most firstborn babies do but a preemie could not afford to lose any weight.

But in spite of our fears, one of the first things I did when I saw her for the first time was what was called Kangaroo Care – holding your baby with skin-to-skin contact. The nurses explained to us that our baby would benefit from this and that we should do it as often as we could. I was so nervous at first, she was so little and seemed so fragile. But sure enough once she was situated on my chest she snuggled in. I held her and sang to her to let her know mommy was there. I just stared at her and took it all in. I counted all her toes and fingers and just held her. I prayed that we would get through this together and we would be home soon.

Each day in the ICN unit it felt like a small step towards our goal. But each time those machine’s beeped and her heart rate dropped I basically froze not knowing what to expect. We signed paperwork after paperwork to approve certain procedures. We were given a daily report by each an every nurse, whether we called or stopped in to see her. The doctors were always caring and upbeat and gave us hope. She was my baby and she seemed far much stronger than I felt during that time. She was my little champion fighting the fight. After a few weeks, Amelia graduated from the incubator to an open crib. She still maintained a feeding tube but was getting stronger each day. The goal they had set for her was to reach 4lbs and completely be bottle-fed and then she could go home. We were told that this was a goal that could happen before the 10 weeks. We were hopeful.

Over several weeks I wrote down what I was feeling and what Amelia was going through in a preemie journal my sister gave me. At 34 weeks gestational, she weighed 3lbs and 11ounces. She was still in her incubator and her stats were stable and steady.

This is an excerpt from my journal:

“I love coming to visit you, you always put a smile on my face. Your brother says to give you a special kiss from him! We all miss you so much. You look great, very alert and getting bigger. I love watching you and seeing you move and wiggle around. You spit up a bit and I got nervous, but you were ok. So I went ahead and changed you into a fresh shirt and you didn’t skip a beat”.

Being able to write about what was happening and how I was feeling was a true blessing to let it all out during my private moments. It helped me deal with feelings that I was struggling with. I went through a stage where I felt guilty that I had done something wrong during my pregnancy. How could I not have prevented this from happening? But over time I realized that it was not my fault it was the cards that I was dealt and I was meant to be a preemie mom.

On April 26, 2007, my baby girl finally reached 36 weeks gestational and she was coming home. We were all so excited and yet I was a nervous wreck too. During her stay in the ICN unit I had nurses and doctors taking extremely good care of her and now it was all up to me. It was like be being a new mom all over again but at a higher level. I experienced intense anxiety for several weeks but as she got bigger I got better. The first two years of her life we kept a close eye on her and went on several different types of doctors appointments to make sure she was developing and growing in every way possible.

Today Amelia is a 4 ½ year old preschooler who has amazed us all! She is a bright, feisty, lovable and sensitive little girl. She has dealt with other medical issues in the past two years and to this day we do not know for sure if it is related to her being a preemie or not. Because of an organization like the March of Dimes my daughter was given the chance to make it through her early entrance into this world.

I am grateful and blessed to have been surrounded by wonderful doctors, nurses, friends and family during our time of need. My daughter is one of so many little champions that survived prematurity. So on this day of November 17^th, wear purple in recognition of World Prematurity Awareness Day or during the entire month for World Prematurity Awareness Month! And please take a moment to pray for those parents and families who are fighting the fight for their own little miracle, preemie.

Are you a preemie parent? What were your experiences? Feel free to share your stories or just add your little miracle’s name below in recognition of the beautiful preemie babies that we brought into this world and that we continue to help fight for and bring awareness too.

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