In January of 2007 I found out that I was pregnant and due in September. I was going to be a single mother; I was scared but I was also so excited. I had been living in Hawaii since I graduated from college in 2005 and at first I had decided that I was going to stay there and try to raise my child alone. Thankfully I came to my senses and around April I moved back home to northern Virginia (right outside of DC) to live with my parents and to be around my family and close friends. I realize now that that decision was the best one I have ever made. First, because I came home to a huge support system (something I didn't have in Hawaii); I got a much better paying job; and most importantly, the health care in northern VA is much better than the healthcare I was receiving in Hawaii. Even though I loved my OB/GYN in Hawaii, hind sight tells me that the outcome of my story could have been much different if I had stayed there.

Upon returning home to northern VA I got in with a great OB/GYN practice; one of the doctors delivered my sister and brother and performed my mothers hysterectomy. At my first appointment with them (about 17 weeks along) I was immediately referred to a high risk OB/GYN; because of my own health problems (congenital heart condition and a lung malformation), my doctor in Hawaii neve r even suggested I be seen by a high risk doctor. However, the high risk OB/GYN took one look at me and sent me right back to my regular OB/GYN and said I could stay there and be treated as a normal pregnancy unless something happened…nothing happened. My big u/s revealed that I was carrying a healthy baby boy! My parents and I were thrilled. Everything looked great, placental placement was great, so far there were no concerns. Still my doctor wanted me to have a Fetal EKG to make sure that my son didn't have the same heart condition (even though we knew it wasn't genetic); better to be safe, I went along with it and everything looked great! My cardiologist that I have seen since I was born actually did the Fetal EKG (yes, I still see a pediatric cardiologist), so it was very comforting. He said that everything looked great, my son kept kicking and hitting the probe as he was trying to look at his heart; it was quite comical.

My dear son was given a clean bill of health and I continued with my uneventful pregnancy. I still saw my cardiologist and pulmonologist regularly throughout my pregnancy and all my check ups continued to be great. This pregnancy was turning out to be prefect, despite everyone's initial concerns. I breezed through the trimesters with very little morning sickness and no causes for concern.

As my due date SLOWLY crept closer and my belly grew bigger (as well as my ankles and butt!) I was ready to meet this little guy. At 36 weeks I had the doctor start checking my cervix, praying that something was happening. I heard the same thing every week, "you're starting to make progress but it could still be a few weeks." Finally, at 39 weeks and 3 days (and many pounds later) I was starting to dilate (only 2 cm). The doctor said that I was probably carrying a large baby (I agreed) and he offered to induce me the next morning. The same doctor that delivered my sister and brother (over 20 years ago) would be delivering my son; I was so excited, it felt perfect! Since my mother and I knew that we would be meeting this guy sometime within the next 24 hours we had time to pack my bag, get our nails done and I got a hair cut. I arrived at the hospital at 6PM that evening to have the gel put on my cervix. They monitored me for an hour afterwards, gave me one sleeping pill and sent me home to get one last good nights rest (yeah, right!).

I was supposed to arrive at the hospital at 7AM the next morning to be induced but nature had other plans. After arriving home from the hospital the night before I started having contractions and attempted to sleep through them (100 sleeping pills wouldn't have helped me sleep through that!) sometime after midnight I felt a small gush and rushed to the bathroom (praying that my water was breaking…they have to admit you if your water breaks!); it wasn't water, it was blood and it appeared to be A LOT. I called the doctor and explained what happened and he assured me that it was normal, "just my bloody show," and told me to get some rest. Assuming that the doctor knew what he was talking about I ignored the bleeding that followed. I had soaked through an overnight pad. FINALLY, my water did break at 5AM; we rushed to the hospital (only 4 miles away) and I was immediately admitted and hooked up to fetal monitors. Everything looked great, no cause for concern. They again assured me that the blood I had lost earlier was normal. They did an internal and I was only dilated to 3 cm, disappointed at my progress they told me to get some rest.

Once the doctor arrived I was given the go ahead to get an epidural; thank goodness! Once the pain meds kicked in I felt great, I was able to get some rest, it had just became a waiting game. We even sent my dad home to let the dog out and take a nap. Unfortunately, about 10 minutes after he left the nurse came to check me again and when she pulled back the sheet it was covered in blood. She didn't seem too alarmed, just stated that it was more blood than she was comfortable with and went to get the doctor. He wasn't pleased either and they were unsure where it was it was coming from. They figured my placenta was tearing and decided that they needed to get him out. They also weren't pleased with his heart rate; he had what was called a "flat rate" where his heart beat stayed at a consistent 150 bpm. This meant that he wasn't responding to the contractions; their heart rates are supposed to rise with the contractions and then come back down; he was in distress. He had a few decelerations but they were more concerned about his flat rate.

I was wheeled into the OR with both of my parents dressed in scrubs. We entered the OR at 11:19AM with the intention of getting him out right away. However, my doctor had another patient who was having serious decelerations and she was deemed more critical and also needed an emergency c-section. We waited in the OR all ready to go for 40 minutes. Of course, I was being monitored the entire time, and everything was stable. First cut was at 12PM and my son was brought into this world at 12:19PM. The neonatologist in the OR examined my son and gave him an APGAR score of 8 (1 min) and 10 (5 min). However, they suctioned quite a bit of blood out of his stomach before I was able to hear his first cry. I remember seeing him for the first time; he was the color of the blanket they wrapped him in. No one seemed very concerned, there was a neonatologist in the room and he said everything was fine. I remember thinking to myself, "that is one pale baby…they don't ever look like that on Discovery Health." They took him off to the recovery room to wait for me. My mother went with him; I didn't want him to ever be alone.

When I arrived in the recovery room he wasn't there, and either was my mother. She returned shortly afterwards and told me that the nurse who brought him to the recovery room didn't like the way he looked and scooped him up and put him in the first open bed in the NICU. The same neonatologist was back in the NICU and said "why is this baby here? I've already seen him and cleared him," the nurse responded "this baby can go back when you can prove on paper that he can stay there." THANK GOD for nurses like that. She probably saved my sons life or at least prevented him for having more problems.

Lab results showed that his blood count was very low and needed a transfusion. He spent 6 nights in the NICU, we joked that he liked it so much there that he didn't want to leave; enjoying all the attention he was receiving from the female nurses. He was being bottle fed after 3 days of IV fluid and antibiotics and was having some trouble eating and breathing at the same time. Once he got the hang of it we were able to bring him home.

Since he was released he has had no complications and is growing like a weed. He was born on September 25, 2007 at 12:19PM, weighing in at 8lb 14 oz and 20.75 inches. At 4 months he weighed 16lb 3oz and was 26.5 inches. Pathology confirmed what my doctor suspected, velamentous insertion of the umbilical cord. It was never confirmed on paper where all the blood was coming from (my placenta was intact, no tears) but my doctor suspected that it was from some of the smaller blood vessels. I saw the pictures of my uterus; in fact the entire staff of the maternity ward did, and it looked like a garden hose running across my bag of water between my placenta and the umbilical cord. I am so fortunate that the larger vessels didn't rupture. His umbilical cord was very big and had very little blood in it when they went to withdraw some.

The weeks following the birth of my dear son, Preston Reid, were very tough. Recovering from the c-section was a breeze compared to the emotional rollercoaster that I was riding. I was so nervous that the doctors were going to tell me that my son would have long term problems or that he was going to need another blood transfusion. Infants do not start making red blood cells until they are about 3 weeks old and I was terrified that we were going to be at home and I wouldn't be able to recognize that there was a problem. They checked his blood count everyday in the NICU, it continued to drop but was never again in the danger zone and the follow up with the pediatrician confirmed that he was fine.

When I started researching velamentous cord insertion and vasa previa the emotional rollercoaster picked back up. I spent days and nights pondering the what-if's; cried uncontrollably over how close I came to losing my son. I became angry at myself for not going to the hospital when I first started bleeding or wondering what the outcome would have been if I had stayed in Hawaii (I always assumed the worse). Today I realize that my son is truly a miracle, he overcame incredible odds and I know that he had someone looking out for him. I will always be thankful for everyone who played a roll in my son's birth and his care in the NICU; everything happened the way it was meant to.

Thank you for letting me share my story.

~ Sarah Kingdon