"Complicated Birth Story"

My pregnancy with my last son was fairly uneventful. I didn’t have any complications, and aside from being uncomfortable and dealing with horrible morning sickness, everything seemed normal. At 39 weeks, my OB performed a sweep, which was called a “favorable sweep.” That night, I went to bed as usual, but early the next morning, I woke up to a big gush.

At first, I thought my water had broken. I got up and walked to the bathroom, but as soon as I sat down, I felt another rush. When I looked down, all I could see was red. A horrible sense of dread washed over me. Blood was pouring out of me, huge clots passing one after another. I panicked and called 911, barely able to process what was happening. The contractions were coming back to back, and the operator started giving me instructions—preparing me to give birth right there on my couch.

When the ambulance arrived, two young male EMS workers came in and checked my vitals. They didn’t seem overly concerned, but I was nearly having a panic attack. I knew something was very wrong. I was terrified for my baby. They helped me to the ambulance but it felt like they took their time getting everything ready. Then, another ambulance arrived, and a more senior EMS worker stepped in. He immediately saw my state, checked my vitals, and  it sounded like he gave the first two EMS a stern lecture for not rushing me to the hospital.

The drive was a blur—lights, sirens, and unbearable pain. I asked them if my baby was okay. They indicated they were not sure. 

At the hospital, they rushed me to Labor and Delivery. The contractions were relentless, and with each one, I could feel more blood gushing out. The pain was unbearable, and nothing seemed to help. The nurses did their best, but I don’t think they fully understood how intense it was. I eventually got an epidural, but it barely took the edge off.

The delivery happened quickly. The nurses were incredible—they brought me cold cloths, held my hand, reassured me as much as they could. When my son was born, they placed him on my chest. He was beautiful and perfect. But something was off. The nurses listened for his heartbeat, and I saw the concern on their faces.

I overheard someone say he is blue. 

They took him from me, pulled the emergency alarm, and suddenly, the NICU team was flooding the room. I kept asking if he was okay, but I don’t think anyone heard me. One of the nurses brought me a picture of him, and I’m so grateful for that. They told me he had swallowed a lot of blood and lost a significant amount of his blood volume.

As they worked on my son, I started hemorrhaging. After my placenta was delivered, I lost a lot of blood. I tried to move, but my blood pressure was so low they wouldn’t let me get out of bed. My husband was able to go with our son to the NICU while I recovered.

When I was finally able to see my son, I couldn’t believe how small and fragile he looked. Tubes, wires—so many things connected to his tiny body. I couldn’t even hold him. It was overwhelming. A normal pregnancy, and now this.

The NICU team at  Peter Lougheed Centre (PLC) was incredible. They helped our son gain weight and ran every test they could. Eventually, he was stable enough to come home. But after just a week, I had to rush him to the emergency room at the children’s hospital.

They took him from my arms and ran him to the trauma room. His color was awful, and he was struggling to stay awake. I was beside myself with fear, just praying he’d be okay. Doctors and nurses worked tirelessly, running test after test. Eventually, they stabilized him and admitted him.

That’s when they placed an NG tube. He had dropped below his birth weight and was too weak and sleepy to eat properly. After about a week in the hospital, he started gaining weight again, and we went home, adjusting to our new normal.

Since then, our son has faced numerous health challenges. He was recently diagnosed with Stage 1 Genetic Mutation, a very rare disorder. He also has failure to thrive, GERD, microcephaly, low muscle tone, and possibly sleep apnea, among other concerns. He’s been on an NG tube since his hospital admission as a newborn, and now, almost a year later, he is preparing for surgery to have a G-tube placed.

Through it all, my son has been the bravest, most resilient little boy. He radiates love and kindness, always smiling despite everything he’s been through. I am endlessly proud of him.

I’m also deeply grateful to all the doctors, nurses, and medical staff who have been part of our son's journey. Their care and dedication have made all the difference.