Einstein's theory of childbirth

Yes, women have it more difficult than men when it comes to childbirth. Women who give birth prematurely have more difficulty than those who deliver on time. Still, it's relative. Regardless of the outcome, 999 times out of 1,000 we get up and walk away with no lasting negative effects. It's the children that face the real difficulties. And that's relative, too. Relativity does come to a screeching halt, though, when you are the child of the premature birth. It's difficult. It’s life threatening. There is nothing relative about it.

Let me give you my perspective on the experience of giving birth to Ian. Relative to a normal birth experience, yes, I had a rough go. A very rough go. But it's my son Ian who really had to struggle. I'll get to him in a minute.

I woke up early one morning to severe cramping, two days after I had gone in for my sixth month's checkup. Coming out of the checkup, I had been assured that everything checked out ok. Having previously experienced some sporadic cramping I wanted to tell the doctor about it, but he breezed through the room so quickly I didn't get a chance. Ah, the joys of the modern healthcare system...but that's another story. Anyway, I mentioned the cramping to the nurse and she replied that the baby was breach and the cramping was probably the result of Ian just pushing down. That made sense to me.

So, two days later at 2 am I realized that he was 'pushing down' every 5 minutes, and it was extremely uncomfortable. Based on what I had heard during the checkup, I actually waited for a while to see if the cramps would go away. Of course, they didn't. I phoned Portland St. Vincent's Hospital ER and was told to check in ASAP. They informed me over the phone that I was in labor. Of course, I thought they were mistaken; after all, I was only 6 months pregnant.

This is where the surreal element begins. I phoned my mother and told her to meet me at the hospital, just in case. My husband was out of state working (hey, I was only six months pregnant - no worries, right?), and so I had to drive myself to the hospital. My expectation was that the nurse, doctor, whoever, would give me a shot to stop the cramping and I would be sent home. Imagine my surprise when I was told I was already 1cm dilated, the baby wasn't waiting, he had turned his body around and he was heading down. I was so glad my Mother was there waiting for me. Apparently, I had been in labor almost a week and didn't know it.

I immediately received surfactant for the baby's lungs. It helps keep the small air sacks in his lungs from collapsing and sticking together. I held out for two days, just long enough for my husband to make it back to my side. Willpower is an amazing thing sometimes. During those two days I had been pumped so full of muscle relaxers that I was incapable of pushing. I had also shifted from my surprised mode to about 1000 miles north of terrified. I recall telling the nurse as I was being wheeled into the operating room that I had just sent my money away for childbirth classes, and I didn't know what I was doing. She reassured me that I would be fine. I didn't feel fine, but sometime nature just takes over.

So that's where my relative difficulty ended. Early in the morning on October 26, 1998, Ian Michael Garris was born, weighing in at a featherweight 865 grams. That's 1 lb., 14.5 ozs. to those of us on this side of The Pond. He was 26 weeks old; 14 weeks early.

Ian was rushed into the NICU, and the medical staff started its their work at breakneck speed. I'll try to give you a sense of the relative nature of the relative nature of difficulty, childbirth's difficulties, my difficulties. Again, relativity ceases when it comes to the receiving end of premature birth. Ian's He skin was similar to that of a burn victim, his eyes were still fused together, and he didn't have any cartilage in his ears or any nipples yet. But, he was a fighter from the beginning. What choice did he have; he had to be. It was 6 days before he could start taking milk, and then only ½ teaspoon a day. It was 7 days before we could hold him. There are NO words to describe just how good that first embrace felt.

Back to difficulties. Yes, I had a rough go of it, but let me attempt to show you what I mean when it comes to the absolute nature of difficulty and what premature babies battle through. Of course, these are the ones who survive. Ian had jaundice, a PDA (Patent Ductus Arteriosus- a temporary heart condition, the PDA is a valve in the heart that is supposed to close when babies are born, if it doesn't they use medication, and in worse case scenario, surgery). His didn’t close, and he was on two rounds of medication, and surgery was scheduled. Luckily Ian's finally closed and he was able to avoid that, no doubt, lovely experience. He had ROP (Retinopathy-a condition of the retina), Respiratory Distress Syndrome (due to his lungs not being developed), Bronchopulmanary Dysplasia, various infections, and an inguinal hernia on both sides. He had Apnea (when the breathing stops for over 20 seconds) and Bradycardia (when the heart rate goes below 100 in a pre-term baby). He was intibated, and received a blood transfusion from his father. He was also treated for RSV (Respiratory Syncytial Virus). He had about nine lives of difficulty all four months time. His experience tends to put a little relativity to we characterize the term 'difficult'.

I do want to relay one of the joyous things that came out of all this difficulty. At one point the local Hallmark Store gave all the NICU babies Beanie Babies. Ian received a "Princess Di" Beanie Baby Bear. He was one of the smallest babies in the NICU, and the local news - (KATU, NW Cable News), several papers (The Oregonian, Tigard Times, Beaverton Times, etc.) and CNN picked up on it. He was known as the "Preemie Baby with the Beanie Baby" and was the size of one. We started receiving cards and gifts from all over the country. Human kindness can be the ultimate a pick me up.

Ian continued to struggle. He had pic lines through his entire little body and IV's everywhere, including his head. He still has scars on his hands and feet today. He went up and down with his weight, and even losing a gram was terrifying for us. However, even though they don't look it, preemies are the strongest of people based on their sheer desperation to live. After 95 days and weighing 2620 grams or 5 lbs., 12 ozs., Ian was ready to come home. Again a little relativity, he came home the day before his actual due date.

On his first birthday KATU News came out and did a follow up segment on him as a 'good will story'. I invited a family we had met in the NICU. It was so wonderful to see two healthy babies, Ian and Hade, playing together!

We still don't know why Ian came early, and this is the critical area that can only be understood through more research. There was a sign of infection in my placenta, but they didn't know if it caused the birth or came afterwards.

Luckily, Ian is now a healthy and robust boy with no signs of being a preemie, except for an occasional bought with asthma. He is going into the second grade this year and just turned 7 in October. Honestly, he wouldn't be here if it weren't for the staff at St. Vincent's and the critical research done by the good people at the March of Dimes. And yes, somewhere in there was the often mysterious hand of God. There are just some things for which human explanations fall short.

The fight goes on though, even as Ian puts his hard fought battles behind him. Recently, Ian and I have raised money and given gifts to a few preemie families at the St. Charles NICU in Bend, OR. He really enjoys helping others. We both feel it's important to give at least a few of the family’s hope that things will work out. At the very least we want to let them know there are others who have gone through this as well. We had so many people help us in our time of need that we pay it forward. From difficulty to hope, I'm sure that Einstein would agree that all things are inexorably linked. How deep those ties run is just a little matter of relativity.