Tuesday, April 24, 2018

    Ronnie's Vaccine Injury Story

      A parent's worst nightmare come true

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Jennifer's Story—

A mother's perspective on vaccine injury

After going through so much to have Eric, the question haunts me—my will or Gods?

Three words broke the silence in the cold delivery room. "Oh, my God!" My heart sank for a moment. Then the reassuring sounds of Ronnies camera clicking told me that all was well beyond the drapes that blocked my view. Sixteen hours of labor had left me aching in my bones and laying on an operating table with a C-section concluding the delivery process. This is not how I had pictured it!

I always had my future totally figured out. I would go to college, become a nurse and get married. My prince would sweep me off my feet, and we woud live happily every after. I didn't matter that I'd never known anyone that lived that life. I just knew I was going to have that life.

Prince charming came along in Ronnie. Part of my dream already in place! We had a small church wedding, speedy reception and took off to start a new life. I was only weeks away from reaching my goal of becoming an LPN. I was well on the way to enjoying the life of my dreams. Of course my grand plan included children, but not right away. I wanted to a few years along with my dream man. Five sounded about right!

We enjoyed our five years, but we felt the time was right to start our family. We had no idea that it would take two years of timed sex and months of fertility pills to accomplish pregnancy.

I prayed non-stop for God to send us our own little angel. Family and friends began to tell us that maybe it wasn't God's will. I just couldn't accept that such a loving God would withhold that blessing from us. When we turned to fertility treatments our families disapproved and warned us that we were turning away from God's will.

The day we finally heard that we were pregnant, we were ecstatic with praise to God. I made sure I watched everything I ate and avoided anything that could possible cause a problem in the pregnancy.

While you might think that the delivery day would be the first time I met Eric, I feel that our first meeting was at my first sonogram. At 20 weeks, I would be abe to count toes, see his face and see his heartbeat—this before I had felt him moving yet. I sat in the office waiting anxiously, fearful that the sonogram would prove that the doctors had made a mistake. Maybe I wan't pregnant after all.

I wondered if every mother to be felt this way. Was this normal? The routine blood pressure check and weigh in seemed to take an eternity. They picked up Eric's heartbeat, a soft thundering sound that was music to my ears. It's rythm beat with mine. The gel was cold as they prepared to use the ultrasound probe. My anxiety grew as I anticipated the probe glicing across tolocate the baby I longed to see.

My heart skipped a beat as I saw the shadowy profile of the most beautiful being in the world appear on the monitor. Tears of joy ran down my face. There he was--kicking his feet and moving his hands. It was as if he was telling me, “Here I am mama, and I am fine, just fine. Stop worrying.” I counted his toes, saw his heat beating and instantly fell in love.

Soon we were one our way with a picture of our precious little one and a video of the sonogram. I could hardly wait to share them with our family. We arrived at my mothers and called my sister, Debbie, and my sister-in-law, Debra. We were excited about sharing our first look at our angel.

Maybe our expectations were too high, but our family’s response to the video was a major let down. They just couldn’t be happy for us, even though they were amazed by the video. They warned me not to start working on the nursery yet. Their opinions about our having gone against God and that He was sure to punish us drained all the hope and reassurance I have gained from seeing our child. I would spend the next four months of my life wondering what the punishment would be and praying that everything would be OK.

I’m so thankful that I had Ronnie to reassure me everyday that things would ok and that God would not punish us in that way. Finally, he was able to convince me, and we started preparing for the arrival of our little boy.

As the months went soaring by my Mama (as well as the rest of my family) gradually decided to join in the excitement of the upcoming event. I was glad they had decided to do so because at last I no longer felt like I was committing a sin. Ronnie and I were both working, but we found time to finish the nursery. I prepared casseroles for the freezer so Ronnie could heat and eat.I had gone in to the doctors for a final visit before my due day. My blood pressure was a little high so they decided to put me through a non-stress test to make sure the baby was OK. They needed Eric to move for the test to be accurate. He refused to comply. So they sent me off the Dairy Queen to get an ice cream cone. It was the first time in my life I had ever been given permission to eat sweets!


The sugar hitting my blood stream woke my little sleepyhead up. He was jumping around like crazy. When the nurse asked, “Aren’t you feeling that?” I thought she meant Eric moving. She meant the contractions the monitorwas picking up. I said, “Oh, those. I guess I’m have those fake contractions again.”

She proceeded to inform me that these were not Braxton Hics. I was in the first stages of labor. She turned to my sister who was there with me and told her to take me home and keep me walking. If she did, I would be back at the hospital that night.

 At first, I was the one determined to walk this baby into the world. As the contractions became more intense, I began to ask myself why I was in such a rush?  I stopped at my mother's to take a break, then realized that I should head home. It was May in Alabama. I was desperate for a cool shower and a rest, and I wanted to be sure that Ronnie got a good meal before we had to head to the hospital, if we really did have to go. I still wasn't convinced that I was really in labor.
I finally got to that long awaited shower while Ronnie was eating his dinner. I bent over to dry my feet and found myself in a contraction that wouldn't let me stand back up. My cry for help had Ronnie in a panic. I called the doctor who told me to head to the hospital, 45 minutes away in Mobile, Ala. Then I called my mother, then Debra.
Mama had to remind me all the way to the hospital to quit holding my breath when I felt the contractions. Meanwhile Ronnie was driving like a mad man. My mouth was telling him to slow down, but I was thinking hurry up. I didn't want to yell and make a fool of myself, so I did my best to remember the Lamaze breathing I had learned. 
They settled me in at the hospital with Ronnie at my side. I wondered where my mama was, and finally found her sitting in the corner. When our eyes met, she smiled. It comforted me tremendously. Ronnie constantly reminded me to breathe. It was comforting to have him there, but having the woman who had been in the same place 25 years before there meant even more. I felt a new kinship with her.
The labor seemed to go on forever. I finally allowed pain meds, then regretted it when I saw Eric' heart rate drop almost immediately. After that I made sure that the meds were few and far between. Finally after 12 hours the doctor checked m progress again. I had only dilated a finger tip. I was exhausted from the pain, and Ronnie was exhausted from seeing me in pain.
I guess my mother was too, because she said to the doctor, "Don't you thinks she has had enough?" I realized that she was right. I wasn't going to have this baby the natural way. I felt like a failure. But soon there was Ronnie all dressed in scrubs and smiling at me. The epidural had me numb from my chest down. The drapes were blocking my view, but I could feel them tugging. I could tell something was going on. Then there was Ronnie's cry of "Oh, my God," the camera clicking, then the most beautiful sound in the world—the first cry from my angel.