The Unexpected ‘Bombshell’

“I have both good news and bad news for you – which do you want to hear first,” the stenographer quizzed.

“I am pregnant and I have fibroids,” my wife retorted, chuckling for a split second. Multiple tests in other health facilities had confirmed this to be the case. However, my wife was unprepared for what the stenographer in this facility had to say about the matter.

 “Yes. On a serious note, the baby in your womb cannot survive, since you have multiple and large-sized fibroids in and around your womb. An overwhelmingly large section of your womb houses the fibroids. The foetus is very tiny and occupies only a small section of your womb. I advise that you consult with the doctor to schedule for an abortion, and for the washing/flushing of your womb, to prepare your womb for your next pregnancy….” the stenographer opined.

My wife was saddened and speechless. She walked out of the scan room heartbroken and utterly confused by what the stenographer had told her. Abortion? We had gotten married barely two months prior – She was 34 and I was 36. In view of the age bracket we found ourselves in, we had thought it prudent to begin making babies at the earliest possible time, following our marriage. Therefore, when my wife complained of feverishness and body aches among other on-and-off symptoms spanning days, we decided to visit a nearby pharmacy for a rapid urinary pregnancy test. In about five or so minutes, the test result came back positive. Our excitement knew no bounds.

A few days later, we visited a government hospital in an adjoining community to undertake yet another pregnancy test. On this occasion also, the test result came back positive. A month later, my wife attended antennal and was required to do a scan. It was on this occasion the conversation between my wife and the stenographer ensued, as concisely narrated above.

That very day, my wife was scheduled to consult with a gynaecologist (routine consultation), following the scan. This was where she found some comfort in the words of the doctor, assuring her that since she had gotten pregnant in spite of the fibroids, she could keep the pregnancy.

Everything generally went on quite well in the ensuing months, until my wife’s fifth month of pregnancy, by which time both the baby and the fibroids had experienced significant growth. Unknown to us, we were in for a bumpy ride.

The Road Less Travelled

One particular night, my wife complained of excruciating pain in her abdomen that made walking shear drudgery – standing upright was impossible. She took some painkillers as a first resort, but the pain did not abate – it grew in intensity. Early the following morning, we made our way to a specialist hospital. She was hospitalized. The specialist doctors in this facility who attended to her (three doctors in all) explained to us what the underlying cause of the excruciating pain was – the tension and increased heaviness in the abdomen area, because of the growing baby and fibroids. Several scans revealed that the fibroids had grown so large that they had covered the entrance to my wife’s womb. The doctors expressed surprise as to how she was even able to pick seed in the first place since the entrance to her womb appeared impenetrable.

That aside, the doctors resorted to more potent pain-relieving treatments (dealing with the side effects) to keep the pain under manageable levels. She was given multiple injections, drips and oral medication, and was eventually discharged from the hospital a couple of days later. The attending doctors had advised that she sticks to the medication, has continued bed rest at home, and desist from engaging in any kind of work – acting otherwise could spell doom for both mother and unborn baby.

Much to our consternation, by the following day of her discharge, the severe abdominal pain had returned. She had to be hospitalized one more time at the same specialist hospital for days, and made to undergo similar medical care, with some variations. It was during this period, one of the doctors (a Cuban-trained specialist doctor) suggested the termination of the pregnancy, entirely for medical reasons, after conducting additional tests. Alternatively, he suggested that we manage the pain until the sixth to seventh month of pregnancy when a caesarean session could be done to remove the baby, and then later the fibroids. In the latter instance, the baby would be prematurely born, and as such will have to be cared for in an incubator until possibly the ninth month. Again, frequent hospitalisation will become a common feature of this option. Tough decisions had to be taken – My wife and I were inclined to go for the second option – keep the baby until the seventh month, amidst the hospitalizations and incubation, with its associated cost and risk factors.

In the adjoining ward to that of my wife, a woman lay in bed who had undergone a similar ordeal, but had unfortunately lost her pregnancy in the process. She was scheduled to undergo a myomectomy in that health facility. That was unsettling and emotionally draining for my wife.

Additionally, a close male relation visited my wife while on admission. He visited in the company of his wife. In his quest to provide some comfort to my wife and I, he intimated that we psyche ourselves for whatever outcome, even if it meant losing the baby, and that such an unpleasant outcome may even auger well for the both of us since it would prevent the birth of a possibly sickly or physically challenged baby. They meant well but that certainly did not go down well with us – we only pretended it did, until they had exited the ward. We very much wanted to keep the baby. We were set in our pro-life values and in our trust in God.

Alas, she was discharged for a second time, even though she was not completely relieved yet. She was to return for review the following week, but that was not to be. We considered it appropriate to consult with yet another specialist doctor in another private health facility. We headed for this hospital as well. She was hospitalized for a couple of days. The gynaecologist and owner of the facility (one with over thirty years of specialist experience) conducted the scan himself. The scan showed that in spite of the presence of large and multiple fibroids, the baby was fine. He considered this a medical miracle. He advised that we keep the baby and that we manage the pain through bed rest and medication. While at this health facility, my wife was given multiple injections, drips and oral medications. She was discharged on her fourth day of admission.

Owing to the medications provided, the pain became manageable for the subsequent months, aside from the intermittent sharp pains, restlessness and loss of sleep. During this period, my wife had to be hospitalized one more time in another health facility but for a separate but related condition. That was for a night. She pulled through. By this time, she had been under the care of four different hospitals.

Eventually, we secured my wife’s transfer to yet another health facility (Nsawam Government Hospital) because of a specialist doctor there (This facility was located beyond the town and region in which we resided). We had to commute there regularly. We had heard of Dr Awuku’s medical exploits and wealth of experience garnered handling cases of this kind. He was the head of the gynaecology unit/department of that hospital and showed genuine care for his patients. The Nsawam Government Hospital was where my wife underwent her remaining monthly antennal care. All went well under the expert guidance of Dr Awuku until my wife’s blood level became a cause for serious concern – the fibroids were doing her in. Varied medications and herbs intended to boost her blood level appreciably, failed to yield the desired outcomes. Time was of the essence.

Dr Awuku however, scheduled the mid-9th month of my wife’s pregnancy to carry out a double procedure – a caesarean session (for the delivery of the baby) and myomectomy (the removal of fibroids). His concern however remained my wife’s blood level – it was woefully below the required level for medical procedures such as the ones she was scheduled to undergo. Approximately two weeks before the scheduled date for the procedures, I had to escort my wife to the hospital every other day (for five days) so that she could be given a special kind of drip that was supposed to boost her blood level. That ultimately worked.

The Sound of Victory

A day before the scheduled medical procedures, my wife was admitted to the maternity ward of the hospital. The following day, the specialist doctor surprisingly made it to the theatre on time. We had been told he had some engagements and would probably not be available for the procedures that day. Soon, a perfectly healthy and normal baby girl, with striking semblance to her dad (& grandfather) was delivered via caesarean session. News of her delivery gladdened my heart. The next hour or two were difficult moments nonetheless. My wife underwent the second procedure (myomectomy) shortly after she delivered the baby. It was not until about three to four hours later that I could set my eyes on both my wife and our baby girl – my wife was transferred from the theatre’s waiting room to the maternity ward together with our baby, in the company of some nurses. These nurses were exceptionally committed to their work, and that showed in their work ethic.

My wife was discharged three days later. Her recuperation had its own bumpy ride but she successfully recovered under three months.  

Afterthought 1: In the twist and turns, through thick and thin, we witnessed a Divine Hand working behind the scenes, making all things beautiful in His Time. We owe God a billion thanks. We owe family members and friends who stood with us in prayer our heartfelt gratitude. Of course, we had also remained steadfast in prayer throughout the trying moments.

Afterthought 2: During my wife’s ordeal, it was as though God was assuring and reassuring us that everything will be all right. Multiple scans could not show the identity of our unborn baby, owing to its posture in the womb, coupled with the presence of fibroids. Yet, even before my wife delivered, she had dreamt on two occasions of having given birth to a good-looking baby girl. One of my wife’s junior sisters had also dreamt about her having delivered a beautiful baby girl. Barely a week before the scheduled date for the double procedure, my elder sister also dreamt of a safe procedure and the delivery of a healthy-looking baby girl. The news of these separate dreams had reached us prior to my wife’s delivery. They were comforting and reassuring, indeed.

Lo and behold, a beautiful and healthy-looking baby girl was born, to our pleasant surprise and to the glory of God.

I am a writer, editor, blogger & published author. I write from a Judeo-Christian worldview. 
Email: [email protected]. Blog: http://danieldeladunoo.blogspot.com / http:theroyalwordsmithgh.wordpress.com