On Thanksgiving Day, Thursday November 26th, 2009, something happened that Stacy and I could never had anticipated. It was around 4AM and Stacy, who had been having pains in her back and chest for several days that we just attributed to normal pregnancy discomfort, was having another bad night. Unable to sleep and tossing and turning in worsening pain we finally decided to take a trip to hospital to get her checked out. Upon arrival at the E.R. they began the normal battery of tests and the Tylenol that she had taken on the way had kicked in and the pain was subsiding. After talking to a few doctors and nurses, the initial diagnosis was a common issue with her gall bladder. The next step - an ultrasound of the gall bladder to take a look at it. Much to the confusion of the E.R doctors, the ultra-sound came back normal and her gall bladder looked perfect. After sending us up to the Labor and Delivery ward where they specialize in pregnant women, the tests continued, as did the confusion. Then the scary part began.
The doctors we spoke to there were becoming increasingly alarmed at how rapidly Stacy's blood platelet count was dropping and liver enzyme count was rising - both signs of a rare condition called preeclampsia. The odd part was that she did not have any of the typical symptoms other than the random chest & back pains. No headache, dizziness, or anything else most women encounter. A few tests later and it was confirmed - HELLP Syndrome - which is an extremely rare and severe version of preeclampsia. Then came the really scary news. There is no treatment and the only thing to do is to deliver our son early - at only 25 weeks of gestation. It's hard to describe what we felt. Shock, fear, confusion, disbelief, denial and more fear. As one of the specialists informed us, the problem was that, while our baby was doing just fine inside, the rare condition she was stricken with basically causes the body to start to attack itself and the liver, kidneys and other organs start to shut down and if Stacy's blood platelet count, which was at 100 when we came into the ER and had already dropped to 70 by 1pm, got down to 50, it posed a severe threat to both Stacy and our son's life. There was no longer a choice and they had to act as soon as possible. The next hour or two were almost unbearable. The mere thought of any risk of losing both my wife and unborn son was more than I ever thought I could handle and I wouldn't wish those moments on anyone.
Luckily, with the help of God and my incredible family who was there to support us we got through the operation. The emergency C-section went as well as they could have hoped and my son was born at 2:35 pm - at a very tiny 12.2 inches long and only 1lb 5.9 ounces. I was able to see him for a very brief minute or so before they rushed him down to the NICU (Neo-natal Intensive Care Unit) and the moment was very surreal. I had just become a father which is usually the single most exciting day of a man's life, but for me, my wife was only a few rooms away was still undergoing a major surgery.
Around 10 or 15 excruciatingly long minutes later, the surgeon came out and gave me the good news that the operation went even better than expected. Stacy had minimal blood loss despite the condition and our son, even at his tiny size, even let out a cry (I like to think of it as a tiny warrior cry). Just minutes after Stacy was brought into the post-op room, she was in good spirits, and even joked around in her anesthesia-induced haze.
A little over an hour later, still in what felt like some messed up dream/nightmare, and completely exhausted both physically and emotionally I was able to go down to the NICU and see my son. Even though it was through a plastic, protective case and unable to touch him I could see how strong he was despite his tiny body and felt reassured. 10 little fingers, 10 little toes, little ears and his mommy's nose. God certainly had given us something to be thankful for.
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