Diagnosis: Preterm Premature Rupture of Membranes (PPROM)
By A Mother at Peace
In my fifteenth week of pregnancy, I was laying on the couch, watching a movie late one night, when I had the urge to go to the restroom. As I stood up, water started to run down my leg, I knew that was a bad sign. Then when on the toilet I noticed blood, and we decided to rush to the hospital. I called my pastor’s wife and asked her to pray for us. Sitting there in the waiting room was agony. All I could think of was the worst: “What did I do? Why did this happen?” I was so confused, so scared. When they called me in and I was finally checked by the doctor, he told me the sac had a hole and I was losing fluid. They didn’t let me go home that night. This marked the beginning of more agonizing days to come.
March 18, 2005 was such an exciting day for my husband and me, as that was the day we found out we were expecting our first child. After three years of marriage, we felt it was time. My first month was agonizing because I was sick all day, everyday. My second trimester was going smoothly, so we thought. I was four months pregnant, starting to show a little more, wearing cute clothes, talking to the baby, rubbing my tummy every chance I had. We were so excited and busy making plans, talking about what kind of parents we were going to be, how we were going to decorate the nursery. Well, all our dreams and goals for our precious little one had to come to a complete halt.
My OB told us of the chances this baby had of making it, he told us of the danger, he told us of the risks. I didn’t want to believe it and I didn’t want to hear it. My baby had a heartbeat and I wasn’t going to do what this doctor was suggesting. I wasn’t going to end a life. We were advised to see a specialist. At this time things had only gotten worse: the hole in the sac had become a rupture. I remember thinking that everything was going well because I was no longer leaking. How could I be leaking? There was nothing for the fluid to leak from. My baby no longer had fluid protecting it.
Once again our hopes were shattered, as this doctor gave us even less hope than the first. At this time he warned us about the possible dangers to me. Hoping that our prayers would be answered once again, we tried to put it behind us, but we were just avoiding the inevitable. After going to the ER two more times and seeing the concerned look on my doctor’s face, we knew it was time to take action before it was too late. I told my OB that as long as my baby had a heartbeat, I wasn’t going to terminate the pregnancy. He told the nurse and this precious nurse came in asked my parents to step out of the room. She closed the door behind her. She told me and apologized for stepping over her boundaries, and she told us what can happen to me if I kept the baby. I knew the baby could be born with severe complications, I knew I could lose the baby before full term, I knew I could lose my uterus and never have children again, but I did not know I could die because of the bacteria from the ruptured sac. We left with no more dreams of having this baby.
My husband and I needed to do some serious praying and some serious talking about what we were going to do. Now my life and the baby’s life were in my hands. I hated it. We sat down with our pastor and his wife, because we didn’t know how to look at this situation from a biblical standpoint. How do we honor God if we were going to have to take a life? That was our main concern. I felt guilty for wanting to end my pregnancy and I thought God would be mad at me. After leaving our pastor’s house, we knew we had peace. He didn’t influence us, he just prayed and comforted us.
Two nights passed and I went into the emergency room again. This time I knew I would leave without my baby. It was the hardest thing I had to do, but I remember leaving that hospital with so much peace because I knew that my baby was in the Lord’s hands now. As my friend so beautifully put it, “There will be two people waiting for you when you get to heaven.” That brought so much comfort to me. The road to healing has been so hard and so beautiful. I have learned so much about myself and my husband and the Lord that could have only been learned through a hard situation. When I get sad, I remember what it says in the Bible: “All things work together for good …” As hard as it is to believe, they are. And I find rest in that.