The Georges' Story: Great Loss, Great Blessing
Many of you know about the roller coaster ride my family was on this year. You celebrated with us when we announced our pregnancy, and grieved with us when one of our twin girls died. My husband Chris and I have decided to establish the Melissa George Neonatal Memorial Fund, which will raise money for the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Huntsville Hospital. To explain why this is so important to us, we'd like to share our story.
I'm not doing this to draw attention to myself or my family. In fact, if I had my way, I would keep this story to myself. But we feel our story can help others. That's why I'm sharing it with you.
When I announced to the Tennessee Valley that I was pregnant, I was 18 weeks along and feeling great. In fact, on that very day we had seen the babies on ultrasound and learned we were having two girls. Life was perfect.
"Two little girls," says my husband Chris. "You can't ask for anything more. I was whipped right then and there," he adds.
A week and a half later, I started feeling pressure in my belly, and I knew something wasn't right. But I wasn't prepared for what I was about to find out.
"One of the girls was trying to come a little too early," said Chris. "It was Melissa. The babies were one on top of the other. Melissa was beneath Ann Catherine."
"[Amy] suffered from a condition called incompetent cervix," said Dr. Eric Tallent, OBGYN. "Unfortunately, it's a condition that's often diagnosed too late. What that means is that the cervix is simply not strong enough to withstand the pressure of a developing pregnancy and it begins to dialate prematurely," said Dr. Tallent.
Melissa and Ann Catherine were in separate amniotic sacs, and Melissa's sac was starting to come through the cervix. I was rushed to the labor and delivery floor of Huntsville Hospital for Women and Children.
"It was a total sense of helplessness," said Chris. "There was nothing I could do. As a dad, you want to protect your family, but there was nothing I could do."
For 10 hours, I laid in a hospital bed that literally turned me upside down. Doctors hoped gravity would pull the sac back in. When that didn't work, Dr. Tallent performed an emergency procedure where Melissa's amniotic sac was pushed back into the cervix and then the cervix was stitched closed. We knew there was a chance Melissa's sac could rupture during the procedure, and that's just what happened. Most of her amniotic fluid leaked out.
"Babies in utero breathe, if you will," said Dr. Tallent. "Their chest expands and contracts and that pulls the amniotic fluid into the lung fields and we think that's very important for lung development," he said.
And that could mean Melissa's lungs wouldn't develop properly, something we wouldn't know for sure until she was born.
There was also the threat of infection, which could force both babies to deliver early. Every morning, Dr. Tallent did an ultrasound to make sure the twins were ok, and each day I was able to hear their hearts beating. The babies had to make it to 24 weeks, just to have a chance to survive. That meant at least 5 weeks of complete bed rest in the hospital for me.
"We did a lot of praying, a lot of praying," said Chris.
Despite all the problems, Melissa held on for seven weeks. And by doing that, she gave Ann Catherine a chance to live.
"People go through their whole life not knowing what their purpose is," Chris says. "I can truly believe in my heart that Melissa's purpose was to save Ann Catherine and she did."
On June first, our girls were born -- three months premature. They were rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Melissa didn't have enough amniotic fluid for her lungs to develop, and she died just a few hours after birth.
"It was the strangest day," Chris says as he thinks back. "You had given birth to our babies, our two girls, but at the same time, you had lost one. I didn't know what to feel," he says.
We were overcome with grief. Melissa, who fought so hard, was gone. But the second we saw Ann Catherine in NICU, we realized we had a reason to keep going. Melissa saved her sister's life. Now, Ann Catherine was saving ours. We had a baby who needed us -- a baby who still had a long road ahead.
Sometimes we are handed a unique opportunity to take tragedy and turn it into something positive. That's how Chris and I feel about what we went through this summer.
I'm not doing this to draw attention to myself or my family. In fact, if I had my way, I would keep this story to myself. But we feel our story can help others. That's why I'm sharing it with you.
When I announced to the Tennessee Valley that I was pregnant, I was 18 weeks along and feeling great. In fact, on that very day we had seen the babies on ultrasound and learned we were having two girls. Life was perfect.
"Two little girls," says my husband Chris. "You can't ask for anything more. I was whipped right then and there," he adds.
A week and a half later, I started feeling pressure in my belly, and I knew something wasn't right. But I wasn't prepared for what I was about to find out.
"One of the girls was trying to come a little too early," said Chris. "It was Melissa. The babies were one on top of the other. Melissa was beneath Ann Catherine."
"[Amy] suffered from a condition called incompetent cervix," said Dr. Eric Tallent, OBGYN. "Unfortunately, it's a condition that's often diagnosed too late. What that means is that the cervix is simply not strong enough to withstand the pressure of a developing pregnancy and it begins to dialate prematurely," said Dr. Tallent.
Melissa and Ann Catherine were in separate amniotic sacs, and Melissa's sac was starting to come through the cervix. I was rushed to the labor and delivery floor of Huntsville Hospital for Women and Children.
"It was a total sense of helplessness," said Chris. "There was nothing I could do. As a dad, you want to protect your family, but there was nothing I could do."
For 10 hours, I laid in a hospital bed that literally turned me upside down. Doctors hoped gravity would pull the sac back in. When that didn't work, Dr. Tallent performed an emergency procedure where Melissa's amniotic sac was pushed back into the cervix and then the cervix was stitched closed. We knew there was a chance Melissa's sac could rupture during the procedure, and that's just what happened. Most of her amniotic fluid leaked out.
"Babies in utero breathe, if you will," said Dr. Tallent. "Their chest expands and contracts and that pulls the amniotic fluid into the lung fields and we think that's very important for lung development," he said.
And that could mean Melissa's lungs wouldn't develop properly, something we wouldn't know for sure until she was born.
There was also the threat of infection, which could force both babies to deliver early. Every morning, Dr. Tallent did an ultrasound to make sure the twins were ok, and each day I was able to hear their hearts beating. The babies had to make it to 24 weeks, just to have a chance to survive. That meant at least 5 weeks of complete bed rest in the hospital for me.
"We did a lot of praying, a lot of praying," said Chris.
Despite all the problems, Melissa held on for seven weeks. And by doing that, she gave Ann Catherine a chance to live.
"People go through their whole life not knowing what their purpose is," Chris says. "I can truly believe in my heart that Melissa's purpose was to save Ann Catherine and she did."
On June first, our girls were born -- three months premature. They were rushed to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. Melissa didn't have enough amniotic fluid for her lungs to develop, and she died just a few hours after birth.
"It was the strangest day," Chris says as he thinks back. "You had given birth to our babies, our two girls, but at the same time, you had lost one. I didn't know what to feel," he says.
We were overcome with grief. Melissa, who fought so hard, was gone. But the second we saw Ann Catherine in NICU, we realized we had a reason to keep going. Melissa saved her sister's life. Now, Ann Catherine was saving ours. We had a baby who needed us -- a baby who still had a long road ahead.
Sometimes we are handed a unique opportunity to take tragedy and turn it into something positive. That's how Chris and I feel about what we went through this summer.
