I was inspired by a friends blog to write about my own experience of the best day of my life. The day my son was born.
It was not an easy pregnancy, from three months the morning sickness began, only it didn’t limit itself to morning, it was morning, noon and night. Some days I left work, went straight to the hospital to be given injections and put on a re-hydration drip. On a good day I would be home in a few hours, others I was kept in overnight.
At twenty weeks I went for my routine scan and discovered two things, first I was having a boy and second I had a low placenta. They said it may move as the pregnancy continued and not to be too concerned. However that changed very quickly. Two weeks later I began to bleed. After a couple of hours of waiting, the bleeding stopped and I got to hear my boy’s heartbeat. Everything was fine but the placenta had pulled further down and this meant a C-section would be needed, eventually.
Things settled down for a few weeks and was progressing as expected, even the sickness stopped.
Then, with two months to go everything went into free fall.
Sitting at home one afternoon watching television I had the strangest sensation, like a rubber band had snapped inside and then the bleeding really started. A quick phone call to the maternity unit and my mum and I made a quick dash to the hospital and was admitted to the delivery suite.
The placenta had started to come away and I was in slow labour, they had to stop this as quickly as possible. Within an hour I was hooked up to numerous drips and machines, on total bed rest and fifteen minute observations. I was given steroid injections to boost babies lungs, and gave me a dead leg. Thankfully the intervention worked and the contractions stopped, as did the bleeding, and through it all my little man was totally fine, oblivious even.
I was moved onto the long term stay ward, with three others in a similar situation. For the next two weeks I wasn’t allowed out of bed, and had to be taken to loo in a wheelchair. After this I was allowed to get up but not off the ward. Every day I got to hear my boy’s heartbeat and every other day I had a growth scan to ensure he was doing well, and he was.
The problem was that I wasn’t doing so well. My white blood cell count had gone through the roof and they couldn’t understand why. This was putting extreme strain on my kidneys and liver, by the end of three weeks in hospital my consultant was really concerned. Although the baby was doing well, if left much longer I was at risk of kidney failure and serious lifelong problems.
On the Monday they came to discuss options and after a bit of negotiation we agreed on Thursday for a planned C-section, however I was to have blood and urine tests twice daily and if things deteriorated further then I would go straightaway.
So twenty-eight days after being admitted I was to have my baby !
On the Thursday morning, I went and had a shower, changed into the lovely backless theatre gown and paper knickers, then mum and I walked down to theatre. First I had a quick scan for them to take further measurements and make the finally decision. It was one I was dreading, epidural or general anaesthetic. I was hoping for the first but it wasn’t to be. Unfortunately the placenta was once again causing issues and stem bleeding and keep control of the situation it was better for me to be under a general anaesthetic.
The short walk to the theatre was going well until the nurse said ‘say bye to your mum’, it was as if she’d told me I’d never see her again, the nerves kicked in and the tears began. The poor anaesthetist spent the next five minutes trying to calm me down enough to take deep breaths without sobs and snot getting in the way. Then off to sleep I went…..
A good few hours later I woke up on the ward, baby-less for the first time for seven months. He decided to cause his own chaos on arrival, he went from being perfectly happy and healthy to his lungs collapsing and being resuscitated within a few minutes. He was transferred to the special care baby unit (SCBU), put on oxygen and into an incubator and being fed via a tube through his nose. I had to wait until the following day to see my beautiful boy. Once I was allowed out of bed there was no stopping me, I would have breakfast then disappear down to SCBU until they threw me out in the evening. I could only touch him for a short time through the port holes in the incubator, it made changing nappies (especially dirty ones) interesting. Feeding was small and often, 2ml of milk pushed slowly down the tube into his stomach every hour. Too fast and he was sick, too slowly and he got gassy. That was when he wasn’t pulling the tube out ! He was naughty from day one….
By day five, I was at breaking point, all I wanted was to hold my boy. The hormones kicked in and the tears and sobs arrived. The nurse was an angel and knew instantly how to solve the issue. It took around ten minutes of changing tubes, replacing equipment but finally I had my baby. I had my first and the best cuddle ever. The nurse said the first contact should be skin to skin as this helps both mother and baby regulate bodies and bond.
Boy did it work, within two days he had really improved. His oxygen levels stabilised and he was out of the hot room and breathing independently. After twelve days we was up on the ward with me and exactly 14 days after being born we came home. He was closely monitored for the first year but never looked back, I however deteriorated as the year went on. Blood clots and Graves disease (caused by the pregnancy) meant almost seven years of treatment and operations and finally now, 12 years later I’m healthy again.
It was the most traumatic time of my life, has given me some of my greatest problems to overcome but I wouldn’t change it or him for anything.