Hannah and Steven, July 15th, 2007

This isn't where I intended to go when I started this blog; the entries below are from a simpler time before our lives were turned upside down.

Last Sunday, July 15th, Carla had to undergo an emergency C-section because of rapidly progressing pre-eclampsia. This condition can essentially kill the mother and children, the only cure is to deliver the children. In this case, it meant that Hannah and Steven were brought into the world after only 24.5 weeks of gestation. These are two very premature babies, and it is a miracle that they are even still with us today. Hannah weighed about 24 ounces, and Steven weighed 10. Nobody in this hospital's neonatal ICU (NICU) can remember a smaller baby.

Four days later, both are still hanging on, in stable but critical condition. They will be in ICU for many months, if things go well. Carla battled high blood pressure and edema for several days, but is now almost back to normal, physically. We might even be released tomorrow.

The Tuesday before the forced delivery, Carla had been admitted to the hospital after a routine check-up showed that her cervix was allowing Steven's amniotic membrane to poke through. On Thursday morning her doctors performed a cerclage, which essentially sews the cervix shut to keep the babies in place. The intent was to allow several more weeks or months of development in the womb. That was not to be.

But it was only because she was being monitored closely after this surgery that the symptoms of pre-eclampsia were noticed and acted upon quickly enough to avoid eclampsia, which causes seizures severe enough to kill or disable both mother and child. Fortunately, the doctors also gave Carla a preemptive steroid shot to develop the babies' lungs, just in case they were delivered pre-term. Hopefully, this gave them an added boost before they needed it Sunday night.

At the moment, both Hannah and Steven are doing OK. I'll try to keep this blog updated, since there a lot of people wringing their hands over the fate of these two precious lives.

Shortly after delivery, after both babies were whisked away to ICU but before they were swaddled with the tubes, wires, and restraints that are now keeping them alive, I touched Hannah's tiny little hand. She grabbed my finger and held on. I'm not a religious person, but I pray every day now that she and her brother can both hang on like that until we can take them home.