Stacy and Riley Coulter’s Story

Stacy and Riley Coulter’s story

On May 18, 2006, the eagerly anticipated birth of my second daughter suddenly erupted into a life-and-death emergency for both of us. Looking back, I can see that God had known what was coming, and had arranged everything so that she and I would survive.

I hadn’t grown up Christian—church only until I was 10, then nothing for 15 years. But when my mom renewed her Christian faith after the birth of our first daughter, Kasey, I joined her at church. I felt empty, and knew something was missing. I did enjoy church, but still didn’t feel faith. My mom took me on a women’s retreat, but I was uncomfortable. The women were singing, their hands in the air, and I thought I would never feel like them. Afterwards my mother wrote a note saying she realized my brother and I were gifts from God, and that she loved us. I realized then that I had not thanked God for Kasey, for my wonderful husband Rob, for our life. I realized that God had been missing from my life. Our family then started attending Clairemont Covenant Church, about a year before I became pregnant with our second daughter.

With my first pregnancy, I had gestational diabetes, which usually gets worse with each pregnancy. In my second pregnancy, my blood sugar levels soared off the charts during my third trimester. So my doctor induced labor at 38 weeks to safeguard the baby’s blood sugar levels. The doctor began inducing labor at midnight, then left the hospital, expecting to arrive at 7 a.m. to deliver our baby. That night, only God knew that I also had a condition called vasa previa: Braided blood vessels in the umbilical cord fed the baby, but they splayed out precariously where they should have attached to the placenta. This weak connection cannot survive a birth – the vasa previa veins literally explode with the pressure of contractions.

Almost 6 hours into my induction, Rob and I were sleeping. I was barely starting to feel contractions, with no pain medication, dilated only to 2 cm. Suddenly I felt a gush and thought my water broke. Immediately, alarms went off at the nurses’ station, footsteps pounded to my room, and the door slammed open. I still thought my water had broken, but actually the blood vessels had burst, blood had instantly drained from the baby, and her heart had stopped. In all the panic, no one explained to Rob or me what was going on.

A nurse tried to force the fetal monitor to the baby’s head, but at 2 cm, that wasn’t going to happen. Rob and I were barely awake, and this rough treatment was alarming. An unfamiliar obstetrician rushed in, quickly assessed the situation, then ordered, “Get her out of here! “ Rob held my arm, but we raced out so quickly that I lost him. I heard the announcement “Stat, stat, OB team” and started to panic. I yelled for Rob and heard him yell back that I would be okay, that he was there, but I didn’t see him again until hours later.

Somewhere on another floor an entire pediatric team from ICU assembled immediately, took a private elevator, and arrived just before us in the operating room.

We pushed into the OR - bright lights, surgical instruments, crowds of people yelling “What’s going on?” It was like I wasn’t even there. Nurses instantly strapped my arms out to the sides and tipped my head back so I couldn’t see anything. That’s when I knew I was entirely in God’s hands.

Everybody was rushing. The doctors seemed so far away, down by the baby. A voice snapped, “We’re going to try to save your baby, calm down!”

But I needed to grab someone, to hurt someone, I was so scared. I clutched the anesthesiologist and yelled, “I haven’t had any pain medication! What are you going to do?”

“Either a spinal tap or knock you out,” he replied. I thought I was going to die. You hear about people saying their life passed before their eyes - it did. I wasn’t thinking about the baby. I wasn’t praying. Why didn’t I pray? I was cursing, panicked. From that rush of fluids to this point had been less than 10 minutes. It was too much for my brain. Veronica, my wonderful nurse, stayed with me to calm me down. When she started to turn away I said “No, keep looking at me, at my eyes!” And she turned back and looked at me until they knocked me out.

Our baby girl, Riley, was delivered lifeless. She had lost 80% of her blood volume and was white as a ghost. The obstetrician handed her through a window to the neonatal unit that was prepared for anything. Dr Alison Graham and six nurses with different specialties began CPR - nothing. Sodium bicarb - nothing. Epinephrine -first shot, nothing. The 2nd or 3rd shot finally started her heart, and they immediately did 2 blood transfusions, all in 15 minutes.

Rob had been in the hall all this time, and they finally opened the door and told him what was happening. He followed them to the newborn ICU, where Riley was having a third blood transfusion. It wasn’t until this time that the obstetrician discovered the erupted vasa previa.

Rob went home that night, put Kasey to bed, then researched vasa previa until morning. He brought the info in: 10% survival chance for the baby; can be fatal for the mother. Usually the blood vessels rupture when contractions start - at home. We prayed when we realized that because of the diabetes, my contractions had started at Mary Birch, a hospital with an amazing neonatal team.

Riley had been dead at delivery. As soon as the neonatal team revived her, they put her on a cooling pad to lower her temperature to 90 degrees, with an IV for sustenance. Riley spent the next four days in a coma-like state in hypothermo therapy to try to avert brain damage - anything from dyslexia to cerebral palsy. I couldn’t hold her for four days because it would warm her. Every four hours I could visit the NICU and touch the top of her head with my finger. It was agony watching her shiver.

Pastor Greg had asked us to call his cell phone when the baby was born. But after Riley’s birth, I was in the worst pain of my life and didn’t want to see or talk to anyone. So Rob called Greg, then went to see him. Greg really helped Rob understand what happened, and to calm him. When Riley came home 10 days later, Greg was the first one to visit besides my mom. I think that’s really cool. And Rob has never been so joyous about going to church as he is now.

An initial MRI showed that Riley had two brain infarctions where the cells had died. But seven months later a developmental test showed that she has rebounded beautifully. The doctors feel that any problems would be evident by now, and there are none.

Riley’s room has a mural of angels and clouds and stars, and next to it are the names of everyone who worked to save her life. I had been looking for a Bible verse to go above the mural, and my mom just found it: Mathew 10:16, “Then he took the children into his arms and placed his hands on their heads and blessed them.” I walk away from all this with two beautiful, healthy daughters, an incredible thankfulness to God and a favorite Bible verse to treasure.