This is the story of the birth of our "miracle baby", Ethan Mitchell. We were very excited about being pregnant, and I felt good through out the majority of my pregnancy. I had a "normal" pregnancy with no significant complications.

When I was 32 weeks pregnant, I was referred by my doctor for an ultrasound due to a suspicion of Intrauterine Growth Restriction. Intrauterine Growth Restriction ("IUGR", for short) is a term for a baby who is smaller than normal during pregnancy. The baby is not growing inside the uterus at the normal rate. I underwent several additional sonograms to monitor the condition. After a sonogram when I as 38 ½ weeks pregnant, it was recommended that I be induced because the sonogram revealed that the baby had grown minimally as compared to the sonogram two weeks beforehand. The doctors assured me that there was most likely nothing wrong, but did not want to take any chances. Since I was so close to full-term, they recommended that I get admitted to the hospital that evening to begin the induction process. Of course we heeded the doctor’s advice and at 10pm, we headed to the hospital.

The pre-induction process was started late in the evening. The next morning around 7:30am the nurse informed us that my OBGYN would be in shortly to begin the induction process. At this point, thinking that soon could be hours, I urged Adam to leave to get breakfast and take a break because it may be his last for a long time. I finally convinced him to leave. To my surprise, a few minutes later my doctor arrived and informed me that she was going to break my water. I was hesitant to allow her to break my water without Adam present, but thought to myself “if I don’t get it done now, she could be called to deliver a baby and I’d have to wait a while”. After all, she was just breaking my water…

That began the most frightening experience of our life. The doctor broke my water and I remember immediately sensing something was wrong. I expected the amniotic fluid to slowly trickle out, but instead I felt more like a warm constant stream of wetness. I recall asking my doctor if something was wrong. I saw her turn around to press the emergency call button and ask for a fetal heart monitor. The next thing I know, a swarm of nurses arrive. My doctor checked the baby's heart and said the baby was in bradycardia. The rest is pretty fuzzy. I was told that I would be having an immediate c-section under general anesthia. Thanks to the instructor in our birthing class, who took the time to review emergency c-sections, I was somehow in tune with the fact that this was a true emergency and fully cooperated, not always my nature. I remember being rushed to the OR, opening my mouth for some liquid (to this day, we still can’t figure out what they were giving me) and a strap flying across my leg.

Meanwhile, Adam returned to the labor and delivery floor shortly after they took me to the OR. He remembers looking up at the patient room board and seeing our room say “dirty”. He thought to himself, “do I have the wrong room number in my head”. He walked to the room saw that I was not there and a trail of blood leading down the hall. A nurse informed him I was in the OR but would provide him with no details. He remained glued to the outside of the OR, calling family and waiting to speak with a doctor. Suddenly, the OR doors opened and a doctor ran out with our baby, resuscitating him while asking Adam’s consent to give the baby a blood transfusion.

Ethan was born at 8:08am following an emergency c-section. Twelve minutes after the doctor broke my water. He needed to be resuscitated and required two blood transfusions. At birth his Apgar score was 2. At five minutes it was 4. And later his score was a 6. He weighed 5 pounds 6 ounces and was 18 1/2 inches long. According to Adam and photos of Ethan from the first few hours after his birth he had tubes and IV’s hooked up to him everywhere (nose, mouth, belly button, arms and legs). While I was in the recovery room, Adam went to the NICU to see our baby for the first time. When he returned, his first description of Ethan to me was not what I expected. Instead of saying something like, "he is so small and precious" or "he is so beautiful, he looks just like his mommy", Adam says to me “WE GOT TROUBLES. HE IS ONE FIESTY BOY”! Apparently, at a few hours old, he ripped a tube right out of his nose and was going for the next tube. That phrase has become a staple for us as we have watched and witnessed Ethan conquer the world, his way!

Ethan remained in the NICU for eight days. For the first four days he was not allowed to eat, in case of organ failure, became jaundiced, and was poked and prodded too any times to count. Fortunately, he received phenomenal care the whole time he was in the NICU and came home on October 4, 2005 declared perfectly healthy.

Later, my doctor informed us that I had Vasa Previa and Velamentous Cord Insertion. Vasa Previa is a condition that occurs when one or more of the baby’s placental or umbilical blood vessels cross the entrance to the birth canal beneath the baby. When the cervix dilates or the membranes rupture, the unprotected vessels tear, causing rapid fetal hemorrhage. When the doctor ruptured my membranes (broke my water) the wetness I felt was Ethan’s blood. Vasa Previa occurs in approximately 1:3000 births. The fetal mortality rate is estimated to be as high as 95% if the condition is not prenatally diagnosed. If the condition is prenatally diagnosed a scheduled c-section creates an almost 100% survival rate. The doctors had to explain the condition to us numerous times and even drew us a picture to get a better understanding. They told us that Vasa Previa is not genetic and extremely rare. In fact, the OBGYN who delivered Ethan had only seen one other case, and that was during her residency 16 years ago. We were also told that Vasa Previa is not routinely checked for during sonograms. If my water had broken at home instead of in the hospital, Ethan never would have survived and my life would have been at risk as well.

All the doctors involved in my prenatal care and our hospitalization were wonderful and contributed to Ethan’s survival. If it weren’t for the OBGYN from my practice who suggested I get another sonogram, just to be on the safe side, ….If it weren’t for the Director of Maternal and Fetal Medicine at Mt. Sinai Medical Center in New York City who suggested I get induced…If it weren’t for the OBGYN from my practice who was on call the day I delivered Ethan….If it weren’t for the anastheologist and the team in the OR when I delivered Ethan….If it weren’t for the Director of the Pediatric NICU, who happened to arrive to work early that day and resuscitated Ethan…If it hadn’t been for the wonderful doctors and nurses in the NICU…If it hadn’t been that I had such a strong and "feisty" baby…Ethan would not have survived. Words cannot express my gratitude for the people mentioned above as well as to my loving and supportive husband who slept on the hospital floor for five nights because I needed him to check on Ethan every few hours, okay every hour.

Ethan brings us so much joy and happiness. We know how truly blessed and lucky we are that he survived and is a perfectly healthy almost two year old. I wish all VP cases could turn out as good as ours did.

~ Wendy and Adam Portnoff