Quinton's story actually starts long before his birth. Dave, my husband, and I had started trying to have a child since THE day we got married. That was in 1992. We didn't see any reason in waiting at all since we already had my stepson Adam at home, who was then 3 years old. We tried to get pregnant for 3 long years. I knew something wasn't right after the first year of trying but I was scared to death the doctor would say I could never have children if I went in to get it checked out. When we finally went to the consultation and the doctor started talking about the emotions of infertility and how it seems like everyone you know is pregnant and you start to wonder what you did that was so wrong that God won't allow you to have a baby, I actually burst into tears, much to Dave's horror! But I knew exactly what the doctor was talking about! Also, there are soooo many insensitive people in this world. The second you get married people are asking you when you're going to have a baby. Once a couple years after Dave and I were married we went to a family gathering at Christmas and the subject came up. "Why haven't you guys had a baby yet?!" My standard answer was always "it hasn't been for lack of trying" hoping the subject would drop. But that Christmas someone actually said to me "trying?! you don't TRY, you just go DO it!" I will never forget that. So, remember never to ask when someone is going to have a baby. You never know how much that question might hurt.

Now back to Quinton...
After a couple months of taking my temperature every morning, it turned out, all that was wrong with me was that I didn't ovulate. If you're going to have a fertility problem, that's the best one to have. I was given a prescription of clomid and directions on when to use it. The doctor said we'd try this for 3 months and go from there. I did my first cycle of clomid expecting it not to work, that's just not my luck but I bought a home pregnancy test anyway just in case. You're really supposed to take it in the morning but I couldn't wait. I woke up in the middle of the night and waited my 3 minutes. Dave was still sleeping. When it was time to look, there it was, a very faint line in the second window! I immediately woke Dave up to see if he could see the line. I remember my hand was shaking when I handed him the stick. He saw it too but wasn't sure because it was so faint you could just barely see it. I called the doctor to get a test there but after I took it they told me it was too early for a test and to come back in a week. Talk about torture! The week went by and sure enough....the test was positive! We were beside ourselves with joy. My due date was February 6th, 1996.

I felt great through the pregnancy, not a bit of morning sickness. I wasn't even more tired than usual. Although I did call my doctor over every little ache or pain I had. This child wasn't just my baby, he was my obsession! What To Expect When You're Expecting was my Bible! Everything seemed to be going great.

Then on December 5, 1995 I woke up wet. I actually thought I had wet the bed. I called the doctor on call and he said to wait until morning and then go get checked out. I went in and sure enough, my water had broken at 31 weeks gestation. I was taken to the hospital immediately and put on fetal monitors. The baby seemed fine but it was 9 weeks before my due date. They wanted to take me by ambulance to Iowa City where they have a higher level neonatal intensive care unit but it was snowing like crazy, the worst snow storm of the year. So, I was stuck here in Dubuque, where they don't like to have babies born before 32 weeks. I was terrified! They put me on an IV of steroids to help mature the baby's lungs faster and a drug to help keep labor from starting. Although my water broke, labor hadn't started. I had to stay in the hospital, in bed. Bedrest sounds great until you actually have to do it. No matter how long I lasted, even if I went full-term, I wasn't going anywhere. Once your water breaks they start worrying about infection. They kept track of my blood count...once when my antibodies were high they thought they might have to take the baby in an emergency c-section. I started crying, of course. Only to be told the doctors in Iowa City said to just wait and see what happens.

I lasted a week. On December 12th, around dinner time, I started feeling these little cramps that didn't even hurt. Had dinner, played cards with Dave, and went to bed. By the next day I knew that labor was starting. The doctor told me what I should prepare myself for. Breathing problems, birth defects, all sorts of bad things. And the possibility that the baby would need to be transported to Iowa City by helicopter, with me left behind. The weird thing is...I didn't cry like the other times they told me he may be coming, and coming too early at that. I just had this sense that everything would be fine.

Contractions built up in intensity as the day wore on. I was given pitocin to progress labor. Once they knew they couldn't stop him from coming they wanted him out as fast as possible. I was told from the beginning I wouldn't get an epidural or any other type of pain relief because they didn't know the baby's condition. I used lamaze breathing (only made it to one class before my water broke) the nurse was a great help, showing me how to do it. "he he he hooooo" It actually helped me get through the pain. To his credit, Dave tried to comfort me once by rubbing my leg, which irritated the heck out of me! I had to shush him a couple times too. I just wanted to concentrate on the task at hand and didn't want anyone to talk to me, let alone touch me. The contractions started getting bad at around 5:30 in the evening. I don't remember the time when I felt the need to push but it didn't seem to take long before he was actually born. Although, I know it must have been about an hour and a half. He was born at 7:13p.m. on December 13th. 8 weeks (2 months) premature. It seemed to take forever for them to get him to cry, but he finally did. Music to my ears! I got to see a glimpse of him before they took him to the NICU. The pediatrician came to my room to tell me he was doing great. He was breathing with no help at all. He did have two cysts on his tongue, which in comparison, were of no concern to me. It wasn't until the next day that they took me down to see him again. Warning me he had an IV in the top of his head. We couldn't hold him that first day but we could touch him through the incubator. He weighed 5lbs and 12oz. HUGE for a baby two months premature! The doctor asked me if I was totally sure about my due date because he was just so big and healthy. I knew the date was right because of the fertility drugs, I knew within a span of 3 days when he was conceived. And he still seemed extremely tiny to his mom and dad!

I went home from the hospital the very next night. And although Quinton was breathing on his own and very healthy, he had no sucking reflex. I had planned on nursing him but he wouldn't suck on anything at all. They fed him by putting a tube into his mouth, down his throat, and into his stomach. Literally pouring the breast milk, that I pumped out, right into him. It got to be frustrating, he looked so well but had to stay in the hospital until his weight stopped dropping. And he was a spitter! If you held the tube up too high and poured the milk in too fast, it came right back up. All of it. The nurses taught us how to TRY to bottle feed him. Pressing the nipple up against his gums and really just pumping it into his mouth. Slowly he got better at it and finally, at 3 weeks old, we got to take him home! We were thrilled but scared to death all at the same time.

Although his life started out a bit rough, Quinton shows no signs at all that he was premature. He caught up to the rest of babies his age at about 6 months and then passed them. He runs in the 80-90th percentile for height and weight. Many preemies also have vision problems...Quinton doesn't. He's a perfectly healthy 4 year old now. Just goes to show...miracles DO happen!

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