My Tiny Wonder Woman

In honor of World Prematurity Day, today I decided to share with you some of Isabel’s story, from my point of view anyways.

I remember like it was today, the day I took that pregnancy test and two lines showed up.  It was a Thursday night and my husband, Gregory, and I spent the evening playing volleyball with friends at church.  When we finally made it back home, without telling Gregory, I took a pregnancy test that night.  I saw two lines showing up in that plastic, purple, dollar store test.  Immediately I started shaking and screaming.  Gregory hurried to the bathroom quite a bit nervous asking what was going on. He saw the pregnancy test in the bathroom sick.

–       What do two lines mean? He asked.

–       We are having a baby. I said.

We could not believe it! Having been married for only 4 months and already with a baby on the way.  How crazy and scary! Both of us cried happy tears of excitement that night.

The next week, at 5 weeks of pregnancy, I had my first prenatal appointment.  It was in a small clinic that I enjoyed visiting. The doctors and nurses were so friendly and nice to me.  I felt completely secure to be their patient at that time. They asked for some blood work as well as a pee sample. It was confirmed then, that baby Huish’s due date was April fourth of two thousand fifteen.  The following 10 weeks were miserable.  I could not eat or drink anything without vomiting and getting ready in the morning was impossible.

When I hit the second trimester, everything was almost back to normal.  I had my energy, appetite, and disposition back.  At 22 weeks, I had an ultrasound scheduled.  Gregory and I got at the clinic a couple minutes early. We were extremely excited to find out if we were having a boy or a girl and of course, my husband was cheering for a boy.

We were shown in to the room. The ultrasound technician started by showing us the baby’s legs, arms, fingers, head, and heart.  For me, that little tiny human looked a lot like a shrimp.  After a couple of minutes talking about how tiny the baby was, the technician finally told us that we could start buying everything in pink.  We were having a little girl!  How exciting!  But after all the joy and excitement, she took a moment and called the doctor, Dr. Evans.

The Doctor came into the room where we were and they both watched the images together. He told us that our baby was measuring weeks behind and because of that, he would need us to go do a level two ultrasound so they could make sure everything was okay with the baby. We were so excited to finally being able to call the baby, “She”, and to start buying clothes for her that we did not care much about doing a more expensive ultrasound.

I had done at least 6 level two ultrasounds by week 32, and in all of them, baby girl was measuring small.  So, going to the hospital every week was a lot of work and planning for Gregory and me because we lived an hour away from the hospital, in a small border town called Douglas. The appointments would last around an hour or so, and afterwards we would always go out for a lunch date, which was fun.

The weeks passed by and suddenly I was 36 weeks. It was a Thursday morning, going to a routine appointment to check on baby girl when at this time a Doctor called Silva, who was the main doctor at the clinic, came to our room and told us that the baby had Intrauterine growthrestriction (IUGR), which is basically when the baby has a poor growth while in the mother’s womb during pregnancy.

IUGR is dangerous and in most cases, the baby would be healthier receiving more nutrients outside the belly. For this reason, the doctor told us to come to the hospital again in three days, on a Sunday afternoon, to be induced.  We were shocked! I left the hospital room miserable, feeling awful about my body not being able to keep my little one safe.

On Sunday morning, I woke up early, prepared mine and the baby’s bag. We went to sacrament meeting and afterwards, straight to the hospital.  Getting there, I did the check-in, and a nurse took me to the room where I was going to deliver my baby.  The room was huge, and red. Yes, the room was RED! Crazy, right?  I think the color was a little disturbing but it was okay I guess. My amazing and loving husband gave me a blessing and then the nurse administered the inducing medicine via IV.

The next day was Monday, I was in so much pain that talking was almost impossible. Miserably, I asked for pain medicine because I could not take that situation any longer. So, they gave me an epidural and my water broke in that afternoon.  My mom and sister got there to support me while my contractions were getting stronger every minute.  Pushing was the worst part of all. I pushed for hours and soon my beautiful baby girl was there, real and with us but, I did not have the chance to hold her.  She was born with some breathing problems and because of that, they took her straight to the NICU.

The next day, the pediatrician let me see but not hold my girl. She had tons of machines and tubes around her. It was the saddest thing I have ever seen but she was strong and she wanted to live.

It took her a whole week to get better and finally could go home with us. Everybody was so excited. Now she is a healthy and strong two-year-old. Every day of my life I will give thanks to my Father in Heaven for the opportunity given to be Isabel’s mother.  She is the light of my heart, and I wouldn’t change a thing.


Thanks for checking in.



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