Chapter Twelve

Becoming and Being a Mom

When I was a young girl about 15-16, my Mom took me to the doctor to see why I was having so much trouble with my periods. They were irregular and extremely painful. I bled heavily for about a week each time, missed school due to the pain and heavy flow, and often ended up sick with the flu during that week. Her regular OB/GYN put me on birth control pills and said it would help regulate me but it didn't. He referred us to Cleveland Clinic.

Apparently, I've blocked out a lot of that because I only remember bits and pieces of that experience. I remember having to save my urine for 24 hours for testing at the Clinic. I remember having some very painful exams and other tests. And, I remember the doctor telling me I had "sclerosis of the ovaries" and that I would never conceive. His answer was to take hormone pills so I would have a regular cycle, but they would not help prepare me to be a mother. I remember crying when I was told I couldn't be a mother and that I would never get pregnant or carry a child. That was a hard thing to tell a 16-year old girl with dreams of marriage, a home filled with babies, and a life of happiness.

They Were Wrong!

We were living in Norwalk, married just a few years, and I went to the doctor again thinking I might be pregnant. I can't remember how many times I'd been tested. My doctor was at the point that he refused to give me the test because it just wasn't going to happen!

So by now, I knew the test would be negative, but this time it wasn't. I was at home when I answered the phone and the nurse gave me the results: "Mrs. Ross, the test is back and you are pregnant. Your hormone levels aren't quite what we thought they should be, but we'll recheck at your next appointment."

I was ecstatic! I didn't know what to do or how to think! That poor nurse sensed I was overjoyed and nearly out of control; she said, "All you need to do now is take care of yourself, stop jumping, and calm down!" I can't begin to tell you what I was feeling!

My next appointment went fine and Dr. Davies in North Fairfield said he heard a heartbeat – no need to do another test! I was pregnant with our first child and I was a mom!

One morning a few weeks after Dr. Davies heard our baby's heartbeat, I began bleeding. It was light at first and I called the doctor. He said to lay down and put my feet up. I remember laying there in bed and beginning to feel crampy. I felt like I needed to go to the hospital, so away we went! By the time they examined me there, I was bleeding quite heavily and my blood count was low so they admitted me. The next day I passed a huge clot with a lot of bleeding; I was no longer pregnant.

I was devastated. My husband was devastated. We lost our first child. A longed-after child that I had been told would never be possible.

Months passed and once again my period came unexpectedly. It was the beginning of another most devastating experience. It was a weekend we went to a conference in Columbus with Bob and Betty. I had started my period before we left and was prepared, but not for the massive amount of bleeding I experienced. I was light-headed. I was wearing two pads and it wasn't enough, even changing every hour or less. We had to leave the conference early. By the time we got home, my skin was ashen and I was almost too weak to walk.

We went to the hospital again and they did the normal bloodwork to determine if I was pregnant. There was an indication that I might have been but not by the time they ran the test; the levels were markedly reduced. I had lost another child. But the worst part was that my uterine artery had ruptured and I was bleeding out. They gave me blood and rushed me to the OR to cauterize the artery. I was told if I conceived again, I would be in grave danger of the artery rupturing when out of reach of help. Shortly afterward, I started bleeding again and they did another D&C with the same warning but this time they recommended a hysterectomy. I don't know if I was pregnant at that time or not but likely so since I never used birth control. We were devastated. We refused the procedure that would end any chance of conceiving and actually giving birth.

About the same time, my husband lost his job and I was forced to quit mine since we both worked for an agency that didn't allow spouses to be employed together. We prayed about our circumstances and felt that God was leading us to move to California where (1) I would have access to infertility specialists, and (2) we would have an opportunity to grow in our faith under the teaching of my husband's Uncle Charles. (He hosted and led a Bible Study group in his home.)

The Unexpected Response

Once we were settled in California and we both found jobs, it was time to make an appointment at a specialist since my periods were still very irregular and a potential hysterectomy loomed over us like a storm cloud about to burst. It took a while to get the appointment due to being new employees with limited insurance, but it all finally worked out. By then, we had our own apartment in Upland and were fairly settled.

Unfortunately, I don't remember the doctor's name. But, the appointment was one I will never forget! Once checked in, they did the routine prep for new patients complete with vital signs, urinalysis, and reviewing my complete history. I remember being on the exam table when the doctor walked in and greeted me with a question: "What brings you in today?" I told him a bit about what we had gone through in Ohio before we moved to California and we were hoping there was something he could do to help us have a baby. I remember a silly grin on his face as he snickered: "Mrs. Ross, you are already pregnant! You don't need me to help you get pregnant."

The emotions that followed our conversation were intense. Fear of miscarriage. Fear of bleeding to death. Fear of everything the doctors in Ohio had warned me about. We discussed my fears and he said he was prepared to help me carry this baby successfully to term. High risk, but very definitely nearly three months pregnant.

All seemed to go well except for the fact that I felt like I was having a nervous breakdown. Not just a brief wave of fear but a day-after-day fear kept me awake, nervous, and unable to function at work. The doctor insisted I go on disability for the remainder of the pregnancy and rest. He was determined to get me to full term.

It was during those early months that my husband's workplace shut down. He was referred to a similar company in Westminster but it was far enough away to warrant a move. We soon found an apartment in Huntington Beach that was not only beautiful but close to the ocean and close to his place of work. The bad news, however, was that I had to find another obstitrician because of the distance to his office from our new apartment. Dr. Solana in Pomona took over my care and delivery; it turned out to not be a very good choice but we had no way of knowing that.

I was due and the baby was big, so Dr. Solana set a date for induction. We went to the hospital early on May 25, 1976. I was prepped and they started pitocin tablets under my tongue. It didn't seem to do much over the next few hours, so they increased the strength through an IV. Labor pains began to become regular and increasing in strength.

Being in a private labor room was not an option for us; I was in a ward with at least 6 beds, at least 4 were occupied with other moms in labor. The girl in the bed next to me screamed blood-curdling screams with every contraction. (She apologized to me later!) I don't recall screaming but do recall the pain and pressure in my back.

Finally, after hours of labor, our first child was forcibly delivered using forceps after everything else failed. But, we had our first child – the baby that was never supposed to be born. Andrew was 21 inches long, 7 lbs 8 oz ... right on target for boys!

Andrew had been deprived of oxygen and was bruised; had a deep gash on his forehead close to his eye. They whisked him away and put me in a room with the screamer. But by the time I got back there, she was up and bouncing around like nothing had ever happened to her body! My experience was not at all like that. I could hardly move and my back and hips were so sore from all the contortions they forced me into during delivery. We learned later that Dr. Solana didn't believe in C-Sections. If he had, Andrew's life would have been so different.

Because I had a spinal, I had to lay flat for 24 hours and, because my baby was bruised, they didn't let me hold him until he was a day old. With all that I'd gone through, the hardest part was being denied the right to see and hold my baby until late in the evening the second day. By then, he had been bottle-fed and not interested in nursing. Latching on was not going well. I tried for weeks and finally gave up even after contacting a lactating coach and LaLeche League and doing everything I knew to do, we never bonded through nursing. Our bonding occurred in other ways. He was my miracle baby ... he was in my arms, stealing my heart with his every breath. What an amazing thing God did to give us our first born son not long after my 25th birthday!

Unexpected Dana

About a year and a half had passed and my husband's employer made a major decision to move the whole operation to Stanford, KY. He was the only non-salaried person asked to move with them. I quit a job shortly after I'd started. Arrangements had been made by Ceramichrome (aka Americana Paints) to move us and our two vehicles to Kentucky.

We decided to drive the older car because it had air conditioning. Andrew was about 15 months old. Making the travel to Kentucky from Southern California was destined to be challenging with a toddler. We weren't prepared for the additional challenge. I was not well, feeling faint, dizzy and sick much of the time on the road. By the time we got to Kentucky, I knew I had to find a doctor. Something was wrong! That something happened to be Dana, another unexpected and unanticipated baby on the way.

We were living at the Holiday Inn in Danville for nearly six months until we could locate a home that we could afford. Since my husband wasn't high on the salaried totem pole, affording a home wasn't easy. We finally found one we could barely afford on Wells Landing. It wasn't the best, but it would work. After all, we had one toddler and we were expecting another child. The size of the house worked!

At the same time, Shan Kihlman was pregnant with Nicky but about three months ahead of me. Nick was born sometime the end of January or the beginning of February. I often think that Dana's early arrival was partially because I was so anxious to have this baby that my emotions impacted her premature birth. I certainly can't state that as a fact, but I've spent time blaming myself for all she went through.

We were hit with a horrible snow and ice storm on the evening of our sixth anniversary. My husband left for work the next morning not realizing how bad the roads were. I kissed him goodbye, he walked out to the car and got it out of the driveway. As I watched his tail lights disappear down the road, I felt a trickle of water run down my legs. The trickle soon turned into a flow. I grabbed a towel, put it between my legs, and tried to call Ceramichrome to let them know what was happening and ask them to send my husband home as soon as he got there.

There I was, stranded with no vehicle, a toddler, before cellphones, in the middle of a snow and ice storm, with labor about to begin in full force! I finally called the operator and she connected me to the emergency squad but she warned me that it might take a while due to the road conditions. I was way beyond nervous ... I was scared!

Suddenly, I saw lights in the driveway as my husband pulled back in. He had never made it off our road; it was solid ice. A school bus had tried to get through but was stuck, blocking the road. There was no way to get to the hospital.

There was an unexpected knock at the door with a sheriff's deputy standing outside to check on me and see if I needed help. He told us that the squad couldn't get through and that we were just going to have to wait. Thankfully, I wasn't having any labor pains even though my water had broken. The concern was that this baby was 9 weeks premature and the deputy wasn't prepared to deliver a premie.

An hour or so later, we heard the sound of an ambulance. They had finally made it through to our house and took me to the hospital. My OB/GYN met us there and examined me; I was definitely in labor and he gave me some meds to try to slow it down. Unfortunately, it didn't work. Later that same afternoon, he came into the room and looked at us with the most sullen expression: "I'm sorry, you can always have another baby!"

I was devastated. We were devastated! All I could think of was the life I felt in my belly was very much alive! Dr. Harrison said they were going to transfer me to UK Medical Center in Lexington where they were better prepared to care for a premature baby. But, we had to wait until the roads were cleared.

Finally, about 5:00 pm, the rescue squad arrived, ready to take me to Lexington. The drivers kept me laughing with every bump in the road. "Are you ok? Hold that baby in there!" They were scared to death to have to deliver a premature baby. At the same time, I was scared for the life of my child!

By the time we got to Lexington, they rushed me into L&D and brought in a slew of students who wanted to examine me. By this time, Dana's birth was imminent so stimulating my cervix was not a concern. It may have hastened delivery to a degree. When I was fully dilated, they took me into a delivery room with a neonatal team waiting.

The doctor told me not to push; he wanted to use suction to ease the baby out. He said there was a risk of the baby's death if I pushed and the force caused damage. It was apparently best to use the suction. They expected her to be 1-1/2 to 2 pounds ... she was about twice that size but very obviously lacking oxygen. She was dark blue, nearly black, when they held her up for me to see before they began working to resuscitate her. Once again, my baby was taken away and I was put in a room with three other young moms, one of which gave up her child for adoption and another lost her baby in childbirth. The third was an older mother not so sure she wanted another child. What an experience!!

It was a most heart-breaking time. I had no idea how my baby was, what she looked like, or what it felt like to hold my very own newborn. I wasn't allowed to see her until the next day but she was very sick, hooked up to tubes and wires in her layette in the NICU. The doctors wouldn't give us too much hope for her survival. She continued to lose weight and struggle to breathe. Actually, she kept forgetting to breathe and they had to flick the bottom of her feet to startle her into taking a breath. They finally intubated her for a few days until she began to breathe on her own.

The day of my discharge from the hospital was one of the hardest days of my life. Leaving behind a child we so very much wanted, one with no guarantees of survival, multiplied my postpartum anxiety beyond measure. Phone calls from the doctors or nurses continually stirred our emotions and opened the floodgate of tears time and time again.

I left the hospital with a breast pump and made the trip from Danville to Lexington daily to spend time with my baby and bring the tubes of breastmilk I had collected the previous 24 hours for them to feed her. But, she wasn't tolerating her feedings. Surgery to put in an umbilical catheter turned out to be a life-saving procedure. She finally began to rally. Weeks went by until we were finally talking about taking her home. The NICU staff contacted Dr. Scott in Danville and he agreed to take over her care if they released her before she was 5 pounds. So, at 4 pounds, our little bundle came home wearing Cabbage Patch Doll clothes.

Dr. Scott was amazing! For the first month or so, we went every other day to check her weight and for bloodwork. The nurses fought over her; she was such a little doll-baby! Dr. Scott informed me that she would "always be tiny, petite, and sickly" due to her prematurity. It didn't matter! We had our boy and girl and were a complete and happy family!

Or so we thought ...

Unexpected Debbie

A few months had passed when I thought my period woes were back again. I hadn't had a period since Dana was born but I assumed it was because she was nursing part-time and I was continuing to pump. But, I noticed that Dana wasn't as satisfied with the breast and I ended up giving her some formula. In the meantime, I thought I should go get checked.

We were low on money at this point. I wasn't working. My husband's pay wasn't going as far as it needed to. We couldn't afford another doctor bill, so I went to the Health Department to see a nurse hoping to get something to regulate my periods. They ran a test ... I was pregnant again!

Laugh or cry ... I wasn't sure how to respond. The social worker came in to talk with me. She explained that since I had already had two difficult birth experiences including a premature birth, and that both my children were very young, that it would be best to abort and have my tubes tied. I left the office making sure they all knew that an abortion was out of the question.

So, we were expecting again. Mom and Dad were in Canada on vacation. I had the number at the lodge so I called and asked if I could talk to Mom. She got on the phone and I began to cry. She knew right then what I was about to say. She was consoling and thrilled at the same time. She was never able to have children of her own and now I'm expecting my third. My Dad got on the phone and was such a calming influence to me. I just knew everything would be okay.

Just a few short weeks after learning Debbie was on the way, I began cramping and spotting again. After examining me, Dr. Harrison sent me home on bed rest (with two little ones, no less) in order to get to the 16-week mark. I had the first ultrasound at St. Joseph Hospital in Lexington to confirm the gestation age and then scheduled a cervical cerclage. I was in the hospital for about three days to keep myself off my feet and be sure the procedure worked preventing any further changes in my cervix that would lead to another premature birth. The worst part was that I would be required to have a C-Section because my cervix was compromised by the cerclage. Debbie's birthday was scheduled for March 5th.

On Sunday, March 4th, however, I got out of bed and walked out to the kitchen as usual. I truly thought I had wet myself but, in fact, my water broke. It was the day before the scheduled C-Section. We called Dr. Harrison and he told me to get to the hospital; he would deliver Debbie that afternoon. By mid-afternoon, we had our little monkey, my tubes were tied, and all was well with the world. Debbie came into the world at 8 lbs, 4 ounces and 21 inches long. Jet black hair; her daddy nicknamed her "monkey"!

It was amazing how friends from Ceramichrome rallied together to help with Andrew and Dana while I recuperated. We weren't necessarily close to any of them, but they reached out and helped – such a blessing and relief to know my other babies were well cared for until I was on my feet again!

No More Babies!

We were done! Tubes were tied, babies were all healthy and growing. My life was full! One day when Debbie was about 3 months old, I saw a commercial on television promoting SNAP, the Special Needs Adoption Program. My heart was so moved and, being an adopted child, I felt so strongly about giving to another child the same blessing of adoption given to me. I jotted down the number and began talking to my husband about the possibility of adopting another child – one who was a little older and in need of a forever family. He agreed to go to an introductory meeting in Lexington where we met Virginia Sturgeon, our case worker.

We walked into the meeting with three little ones. I think the stares from other couples there should have been enough to make us rethink the possibility of adopting. But, it didn't! It wasn't long until Virginia called and said she had a sibling group of two girls who were eager to find a forever home. We went through the application process, the home study, and introductions to the girls. In January 1980, Martha and Barbara moved in ... Debbie wasn't even a year old and now our three babies had two older sisters.

Virginia was so impressed by our family, living in cramped quarters, making accommodations for their special needs, fighting for their right to learn and grow in a healthy environment. It wasn't long until we received another call introducing us to another child in need of a forever home. After meeting Glen, we eagerly accepted him into our family.

Glen was a little harder because he was a little older than the girls. He tested us in several ways, ways in which we confirmed our commitment to him over and over again. He seemed to settle down some until another call came from Virginia with another child who was more disabled than the other three. Scotty joined our family – a 12-year old with pain and trauma and physical challenges no child should ever have to deal with.

Scotty was hard! Too hard, in fact! He challenged peace in our home. He challenged all six of our kids with his independence, his emotional pain and God only knows what else. We worked with him well over a year when we finally had to make the hardest decision ever – we called Virginia and told her he wasn't working out and she needed to make other accommodations for him.

Obviously there's much more to the stories, but we realized that our family was complete with six children. We stopped pursuing other opportunities to help unadoptable children. Our hands were full. Our hearts had been bruised enough. Our six children deserved our focused love and affection to help them grow into stable young adults. We always knew that whatever they decided about their bio-families was up to them. We had done our part and would love them no matter what their decision would be.