This is a copy of the posts I like to call Caleb's Tiny Testimony of how God ruled over the S Anti-body. There is a John Elliott song that sings "Lord I thank you for your faithful mercy... All my footsteps have been guarded by grace" among other powerful lines in that song. I found myself singing these words over and over again during my pregnancy and even more so after. This is the reason that these original posts are titled "It's been Mercy All the Way" after that song, in case you were wondering. That song serves as the perfect reminder to me that all our footsteps can be guarded by grace.. even the tiniest of footsteps.
I've been wondering how to write these next few posts because there so much to chronicle, and it's not just a matter of being able to leave stuff out here and there, because I really don't want to leave any of the last ten months out. So it looks like this will be a long and complicated post. Or wait, better yet it will be a series of posts. You don't have to read them if you don't want to, but I promise that if you do there will be such a sweet reward at the end of them.
I've been wondering how to write these next few posts because there so much to chronicle, and it's not just a matter of being able to leave stuff out here and there, because I really don't want to leave any of the last ten months out. So it looks like this will be a long and complicated post. Or wait, better yet it will be a series of posts. You don't have to read them if you don't want to, but I promise that if you do there will be such a sweet reward at the end of them.
Months and months ago I found out I was pregnant. This would be baby #3. It took some time adjusting to the idea, mostly because we knew that the baby would arrive midst house building, etc. But adjust we did. God's timing is, after all, perfect.
We started to plan, started to wonder whether it was a boy or girl and started to consider doctor choices. The doctor, and the birthing center that delivered my first two children would not be available for this birth. Not only was she no longer delivering babies, but no doctor at that birthing center was covered under our insurance. I started to become... stressed.
There, I said it. Not much stresses me. But when I have a doctor that I love dearly, who is like minded with me, and who I trust so much.. let's just say that the idea of closing that chapter just bothered me immensely.
But I put on my big-girl pants and went in search of the next Dr who would replace her. First I pondered local hospitals and birthing centers. The nearest hospital offered one Dr who was a provider for our insurance. I've heard some people say that they like him, but I've also heard others who have horror stories about him pressuring them into C-sections, ignoring their requests, misdiagnosing and even one good friend who ended up with a horrible infection because of him leaving stitches in her that were supposed to be removed. I really preferred a female doctor anyway so the decision was a no-brainer for me.
So I moved on to birthing centers farther away. Let's start out by saying that the birthing center where I had Aidan and Vivi was more like a retreat. It was very home-like with family centered rooms, bubble tubs, many types of labor coping mechanisms encouraged, etc. And then there was the staff. Nurses there drive from an hour away to be able to work at that center, and I've heard that it's difficult to get hired there. They hire the best and the nurses are extremely good at what they do. So when I found out I wouldn't be delivering at that center this time, I decided to find a similar center first, and then pick my doctor from amongst the ones who practiced there.
So I prayed about it, dare I say stressed over it a little, and then prayed some more. I finally picked one that's in the town that my husband works in. I figured it would be easy for him to meet me for appointments, and I mean it's not like a 40 minute drive is that bad when the most you ever really have to go is once a week for those last few weeks. (for those of you who know how this story ends, you're already laughing at this) So after I decided on the center I started searching the list of providers accepted by my insurance, and then I did what I swore I'd never do.
I looked at their website to see who looked the "nicest".
No kidding. I know, I'm an idiot.
But that's how I picked the office that I called and I'm here to tell you that God worked in all of this. Somehow He was there the day those pictures were taken. Because had I not thought that one looked really nice, and called then I never would have met a lovely lady who was incredibly influential with my medical care, but actually barely even ever treated me.
See this first Dr, we'll call her Dr. Blondie, she was awesome. I loved her. She was even pregnant herself so she could commiserate with all my pregnancy discomforts. We got along smashingly that first appointment or two. She ordered the full spectrum of blood work that is normal at the beginning.
And that's where it all started. It seems that I had an anti-body in my blood, specifically the S anti-body. You see, normal blood has what's called an S antigen. My blood does not. So with each progressing pregnancy my blood starts to recognize the foreign blood within me (the baby with the S Factor in its blood) as being a threat. Dr. Blondie was quick to call me in to chat.
She explained to me as well as she could about what consequences this anti-body could have on the baby, and then let me know that she'd be referring me to the Perinatal Center at Childrens' Hospital in Buffalo. Which is 2 hours and 28 minutes from my house. Yay. But she advised me that they would be THE best to treat me for this particular problem... but no worries she said, "We of course would prefer that you deliver HERE instead of there, so we'll try to manage the rest of your care here."
*Sigh of relief at the idea of not having to drive almost 3 hours amongst painful contractions*
"Oh, but I did want to talk to you about transferring you to Dr. Brunette" (once again not her real name)
*mini-panic attack ensues due to information overload and my resistance to change*
Ok, so maybe that's a little melodramatic but I did stress at first. But Dr. Blondie had good reasoning. Since her own maternity leave would fall smack dab in the middle of what appeared to be my new-found-high-risk pregnancy, she felt it would be best to transfer me to her colleague who is not only more experienced in high risk gals, but also able to deliver via C-section should I need it. She also assured me that Dr. Brunette had a similar bedside manner, similar personality and similar philosophy in general. They're great friends.
"Ok, I'll deal" I think to myself. I can process this change. I mean, I have to right?
So off to Buffalo I went the following week.....
....
So I prayed about it, dare I say stressed over it a little, and then prayed some more. I finally picked one that's in the town that my husband works in. I figured it would be easy for him to meet me for appointments, and I mean it's not like a 40 minute drive is that bad when the most you ever really have to go is once a week for those last few weeks. (for those of you who know how this story ends, you're already laughing at this) So after I decided on the center I started searching the list of providers accepted by my insurance, and then I did what I swore I'd never do.
I looked at their website to see who looked the "nicest".
No kidding. I know, I'm an idiot.
But that's how I picked the office that I called and I'm here to tell you that God worked in all of this. Somehow He was there the day those pictures were taken. Because had I not thought that one looked really nice, and called then I never would have met a lovely lady who was incredibly influential with my medical care, but actually barely even ever treated me.
See this first Dr, we'll call her Dr. Blondie, she was awesome. I loved her. She was even pregnant herself so she could commiserate with all my pregnancy discomforts. We got along smashingly that first appointment or two. She ordered the full spectrum of blood work that is normal at the beginning.
And that's where it all started. It seems that I had an anti-body in my blood, specifically the S anti-body. You see, normal blood has what's called an S antigen. My blood does not. So with each progressing pregnancy my blood starts to recognize the foreign blood within me (the baby with the S Factor in its blood) as being a threat. Dr. Blondie was quick to call me in to chat.
She explained to me as well as she could about what consequences this anti-body could have on the baby, and then let me know that she'd be referring me to the Perinatal Center at Childrens' Hospital in Buffalo. Which is 2 hours and 28 minutes from my house. Yay. But she advised me that they would be THE best to treat me for this particular problem... but no worries she said, "We of course would prefer that you deliver HERE instead of there, so we'll try to manage the rest of your care here."
*Sigh of relief at the idea of not having to drive almost 3 hours amongst painful contractions*
"Oh, but I did want to talk to you about transferring you to Dr. Brunette" (once again not her real name)
*mini-panic attack ensues due to information overload and my resistance to change*
Ok, so maybe that's a little melodramatic but I did stress at first. But Dr. Blondie had good reasoning. Since her own maternity leave would fall smack dab in the middle of what appeared to be my new-found-high-risk pregnancy, she felt it would be best to transfer me to her colleague who is not only more experienced in high risk gals, but also able to deliver via C-section should I need it. She also assured me that Dr. Brunette had a similar bedside manner, similar personality and similar philosophy in general. They're great friends.
"Ok, I'll deal" I think to myself. I can process this change. I mean, I have to right?
So off to Buffalo I went the following week.....
....
Let's see, where were we? Ah yes. Driving to Buffalo.
I was fortunate enough to be accompanied by an excellent co-pilot (my niece Sarah) and my dreadfully annoying GPS on that first trip to Buffalo so it was a fairly smooth trip. Plus there was sunshine and unseasonably warm weather, so nice in fact that we had the sun roof open in celebration of it. The trip was also made manageable by a fellow named Tim Horton and a lovely stroll through a mall. But that's besides the point.
The specialist at the perinatal center told me that there were very serious risks to this baby. The way it was worded was that the baby would probably start becoming anemic at around the 24 week mark. This anemia is representative of my body trying to kill off the fetus with antibodies that cross the placenta and attack the babies blood until its organs weakened and failed.
The treatment? They would do special ultrasounds in which they would measure the blood flow in the brain. Apparently it was the easiest way to observe anemia. They told me that when the baby starts to be in danger they would give the baby blood transfusions.
Ok, how on earth does THAT happen?
Oh. Ok, THAT happens by sticking a giant needle in my belly and into the umbilical cord, inserting blood into the baby via the cord. Sometimes they sedate the mother for this process. Let me tell you, they almost had to sedate me just explaining it to me. They would then follow up with more transfusions if needed until they could safely deliver. Anyhoo, that would be the plan of action when the anemia kicked in.
Do you notice that I just wrote "WHEN" the anemia kicked in. There was no if. I don't think that dear educated, experienced lady ever wanted me to have a glimpse of hope at any other outcome. She knew what was coming and she wanted me to be prepared for it.
She also wanted me to be prepared for other things. Like a scheduled Cesarean section in Buffalo, a premature baby, and even better the popular BC.
She wanted me to sign the papers saying I'd have my tubes tied at the time of delivery because this problem gets worse with consecutive pregnancies.
"But I've never had a C-section..."
"Oh, we'd rather schedule a C-section and deliver you here after the transfusions so we can be prepared to give the baby a transfusion after birth."
"But I don't want my tubes tied, or at least I don't want to make that decision now!"
"Well I encourage you to consider it."
Jeesh. Let's just say Dr Buffalo might be an expert but she's like the dark cloud of doom. And she wanted to ultrasound me every 2 weeks. Oh my flying spaghetti monster. You want me to drive here every two weeks for this circus, are you crazy? Well apparently she was serious. She checked the baby that trip and everything was normal. And I left hoping the trip Sarah and I had planned to the mall would help sooth my ruffled feathers. It did. Although I almost ran a man over. But he wasn't a very cautious pedestrian and he was wearing a heavy parka on a very hot day. So go figure. I digress.
So fast forward back to my first appointment with Dr. Brunette. She did all the normal formalities and then finally sat down to chat with me heart-to-heart. It's in this conversation that I knew that I would love Dr. Brunette. You see, she scoffed at Dr. Buffalo's insistence upon tying my tubes. She felt it was a surgical procedure that was perhaps not only unnecessary but also risky. She also felt it was entirely possible for me to still deliver with her. She called Dr. Buffalo and expressed this desire to her, and they came to an agreement that they would both continue to see me until the dangers to the baby made it necessary for them to do otherwise.
Then she hung up the phone and said that we wouldn't be panicking, but instead would play this by ear and embrace the slight possibility that the antibody wouldn't affect the baby in any drastic way. Did I mention that I loved Dr. Brunette? And Dr. Blondie for referring me to her? And God for knowing that I needed this reassuring conversation?
The weeks and months passed. So did my appointments. Dr. Buffalo almost seemed disappointed when she didn't find anemia on the sonograms. The S-antibody was still in my blood, increasingly in fact. (She insisted on running the blood work two more times throughout the pregnancy) And the S antigen was in the baby's blood. But the baby seemed to be thriving, and wasn't nearly as anemic as they predicted. In fact the measurements that they took increased every time, but they were still well within range of normal blood flow, not anemic.
I remember at one point Dr. Buffalo came in and made me get back up on the bed so that she could take a second ultrasound after the first one of the appointment didn't show any problems. She would give me a funny smile that showed her dismay and then just tell me the good news. And schedule another appointment. It's a good thing I like road trips. Eventually she gave me the good news that I could extend the gaps between ultrasounds by a week, and at one point I even went a full month without seeing her.
Dr. Brunette was seeing me as regularly as normal, but that would soon change too. My gestational diabetes returned with this pregnancy and it was decided that part way through my third trimester I would start coming to the birthing center for non-stress tests twice a week. I have to say that I felt like the majority of my time was spent at some sort of appointment. My job was being sorely neglected, in fact I was barely there anymore.
The upside of the non-stress tests was that I became quite friendly with the maternity nurses, in fact I think I managed to know every single one of them, at least to know their names. There was another upside too. Twice a week I was able to relax in a quiet room and a comfortable bed where they would bring me iced tea or ice water and the occasional snack and I could just spend the time enjoying the sound of the baby's heart beat. The test itself wasn't too exciting but the quiet time was... well it was bonding in a way. And it reinforced the idea in my mind that the baby was indeed healthy in spite of Dr. Buffalo's predictions.
Towards the end of the pregnancy my blood pressure started to spike and that was slightly troubling but in general all was progressing without problems.
Now I'd like to take some time to tell you that this baby was prayed for so fervently that it would have been an oddity if anything had gone wrong with the pregnancy. I had such prayer warriors around me constantly that it made it easy to have a solid faith in He who is such a great protector. I knew that God was laying out a path for this baby, and I gained great comfort from that. I won't say that there were no days when doubt crept into my mind, but for the most part the people around me were used by the Lord to hold me strong.
On Monday just before I hit the 37 week mark I made my last trip to Dr. Buffalo and the dark cloud of doom herself was full of smiles as she wished me good luck. *she also asked me one last time to consider getting my tubes tied. I was starting to wonder if she scored some sort of commission for tubal ligation procedures*
Then Tuesday I went for a non-stress test. My blood pressure was quite elevated. Dr. Brunette was slightly concerned. She tested my urine and found it extremely high with protein. She decided to take some other samples and then on Friday the 27th she ordered an in depth ultrasound to check on the baby's status and development. Unfortunately there was no lung movement and that concerned her.
Because of the combined risks of the pregnancy: the antibody, diabetes and hypertension, and also being unsure if the pre-eclampsia was causing the lung issues, Dr. Brunette decided to induce labor...
To be continued.....
So there I am, sitting in a room at the birthing center, text messaging anyone who should be aware of the fact that I was going to have a baby that night. Michael seemed a little shocked, which really how shocked could he possibly have been at the idea of having a baby when he knew he had a wife with a huge belly who was just 37 weeks. But apparently he didn't expect to have a baby that day.
Here is where Dr. Blondie comes back into the picture. Since she is a general practice doctor, and the Dr I had with my other kids not only didn't practice at that hospital but also was no longer a provider under my insurance, I wanted Dr. Blondie to be the baby's doctor. Well when they called her she apparently had some hesitation and reconsidered. She had a hunch that if there were complications related to the antibody we would need a pediatrician who had a lot of experience with this rare problem. She placed a call to the top pediatrician at the hospital (we'll call him Dr. Rockstar) and explained my pregnancy to him. She knew he wasn't accepting any more newborn patients at the moment, but she was hoping for an exception.
It turns out that Dr. Rockstar was actually covering another doctor's week of being the on-call pediatrician at the hospital... even though he stopped his own on-call rotation last year. So he was happy to step in, especially considering that he was more experienced doctor when it comes to antibodies and the like.
So Dr. Rockstar became my baby's pediatrician.
With all our ducks in a row it was time to have a baby. I wasn't scared. Even with the baby's lack of action in the lungs I still wasn't afraid because I could feel the baby's kicks just as strong as ever and it was comforting. They started the whole process after giving me a chance to shower and the arrival of my husband. It was around dinner time when they gave me my i.v. and I'll skip all the lovely details of being checked a million times for dilation and how the epidural wasn't nearly as strong as it could have been.
Instead I'll skip right to the fact that at around 11:00 that night I started pushing and at 11:05 I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy who we named Caleb Jack.
His lungs were certainly healthy and we could tell that by the way he yelled out at us. Then he quieted down and looked around as if trying to figure out what planet he had landed on.
Dr. Rockstar discovered that Caleb's blood sugar was dangerously low (because of my gestational diabetes) and that he was tongue tied so he couldn't take a bottle or nurse. He put an IV in his arm to be sure that he could give him something to raise his sugar at a second's notice.
Caleb drank sugar water at first, as a temporary precaution and then by the time his blood sugar dropped again Dr. Rockstar had us give him formula a tiny bit at a time from a little cup. It took some time to get him in a safe zone, but we finally did by the following day. Dr. Rockstar asked me to start trying to nurse, knowing that since Caleb's tongue was tied down and he couldn't suck that it would be pretty much impossible. But he wanted to at least get him used to the comforting aspect and the idea of nursing. Since my milk hadn't come in anyway and it was purely for practice purposes. I still had to cup-feed him formula after every nursing because if he didn't get a good amount of milk his blood sugar would drop all over again.
As for the antibody, his blood was drawn and tested for various things, various times. Dr. Rockstar really was a rockstar when it came to the care of my child. He was incredibly fond of Caleb and took every precaution to make sure everything was normal. Caleb's organs were all healthy and the anti-body seemed to no longer be a threat although we were told the testing would happen periodically for a while just to be sure.
Dr. Rockstar came in and sat for a while each day we were at the hospital, explaining stuff to me. During these visits he advised that we keep Caleb very anti-social for first few months with no unnecessary contact with people because while his organs were good, his blood was unhealthy. His immune system was exhausted and his reticulocyte count was high, meaning he was breaking down red cells too quickly which meant we'd have to watch for jaundice. So Dr. Rockstar wanted us to become germophobes until the baby had a chance to become healthy again and his immune system was strong enough to hold its own.
Normally I dislike being a germophobe. Something about that level of paranoia stresses me. In this case however, I truly knew that Dr. Rockstar had the best intentions. He did not want to see someone give my newborn a regular common cold and have it turn into a case of pneumonia that was fatal, or on the less dramatic level just have to pump the poor baby up with medicines at such a young age.
So I agreed. They discharged us and I took my little pumpkin home, with orders to return for blood work in two days. Then he turned into a real pumpkin. The following day when we took him to have his tongue fixed he was yellow. But at least he took an immediate interest in nursing after having full use of his tongue.
He was bright orange/yellow by the time we took him in. And his bilirubin levels were indeed too elevated. They readmitted us and put him under the UV lights.
Dr. Rockstar came and checked in constantly. He was so on top of things. And he knew I was teetering on the edge of insanity over all of this too I think because he even gave me a big old hug at one point. I must have looked entirely exhausted and unstable. Kudos to the guy for having the tact not to tell me so.
Dr. Rockstar came and checked in constantly. He was so on top of things. And he knew I was teetering on the edge of insanity over all of this too I think because he even gave me a big old hug at one point. I must have looked entirely exhausted and unstable. Kudos to the guy for having the tact not to tell me so.
By the following night we were able to take Caleb home again. The nurses were heartbroken to see him leave at this point because he had become a favorite, but they knew we were not heartbroken ourselves about it.
I've been back to see Dr. Rockstar since then and he is thrilled with Caleb's progress. We've chatted via phone also and he's just monitoring Caleb at this point. (In case you were wondering, he truly is the rockstar pediatrician. He does house calls, places phone calls to me in the evenings on occasion, gives out his cell number to parents... carries toys in his pockets, sugar free lolly pops, the works.)
So that's where we are right now, secluded but happy to be healthy. It seems odd to have a baby who has not yet been officially introduced to anyone other than his immediate family, but we know that the days of his social interaction are coming and until then we'll keep him in this nice little bubble we have at home.
Now it would be neglectful of me not to point out the hand of God in all of this. Had Dr. Blondie not looked so sweet in her picture I wouldn't have picked her office, thus never have had the excellent care of Dr. Brunette, or the watchful eye of Dr. Buffalo, and last but not least the incredible care of Dr. Rockstar. Think about it. Dr. Rockstar is NEVER on call any more. It was just a "coincidence" that another doctor decided to take vacation that week so Dr. Rockstar was asked to help out. Just a "coincidence" that my health started to waver that week and Dr. Brunette was cautious enough to induce. Just a "rare exception to the rule" that my S antibody didn't do true damage to Caleb.
But you see, there is no such thing as coincidence. Everywhere you see the word "coincidence" you might as well delete it and replace it with "God's hand". Nothing happens by chance. And that "rare exception"? That could be removed and replaced by "the power of prayer". Because God is the exception to any earthly rule, and we as his people have the privilege and sometimes even the responsibility to call upon Him to act. Sometimes it's even necessary to call upon him in order to be faithful, rather than accepting the human or scientific verdict laid out before us. The final verdict comes from the Lord, so do not accept substitutions. I have a sweet baby boy who is proof that God still answers prayer.
I'll end this little saga by giving you the part of the description of the name Caleb, which we did not even know until after we had officially named him.
Caleb, a companion of Moses and Joshua, was known for his astute powers of observation and fearlessness in the face of overwhelming odds.
Hmmm... "Overwhelming odds"? Funny. That seems like a "coincidence" considering what the specialists said my Caleb would have to overcome in order to even be born.
If this story resonates at all with you, please leave me a comment on one of the original posts HERE. I'd love to hear from you and this full story doesn't have a comment option. Thanks and be blessed!
