A few more weeks passed, and people started to question if I could be pregnant. Ben went straight out and bought 4 clear blue digital pregnancy tests. I was quite frightened and nervous, a positive test would be life changing, but a negative one would leave me baffled and worried.
I did the first test. It was negative. Ben was slightly deflated, which was surprising as he had just bought us both round the world tickets.
As the week went on, and Ben went back to work miles away, more and more of the women in my life suggested that, that pregnancy test was most certainly wrong.
I went back to my doctor again. He said it was definitely stress. So naturally I googled all of the different exotic diseases that I was certainly dying of!
15 pregnancy test came back negative, so I took myself to see the main GP at my surgery, who took one look at me and told me to leave and go and do another pregnancy test, and to come back if that was negative. I took no notice, I was now convinced it was a disease.
The pain and sickness became impossible to cope with, so I did the 16th test, to prove my GP wrong!
He was right...
The first scan was amazing, I was only 10 weeks and he looked like a tiny, dancing, kidney bean. We had done the emotional journey of coming to terms with being parents, and as soon as I realised I was really pregnant and there was my baby, that was the moment I became a Mum.
Just a few days later, Ben came to visit me, and only finished work late. I turned the light on as I felt quite uncomfortable, only to find that there was blood everywhere. We thought the worst. The cramping got much, much worse, and I was completely inconsolable.
We jumped straight into a taxi and went to A and E. They examined me, to find that my cervix was closed, but the early stage of pregnancy and the amount of blood was not a good sign. The consultant sat down next to me, and held my hand, and placed his other hand on top of mine. He said my name, and told me that 'this is not a good sign.', ben asked several questions about miscarriage and the bleed. He kept repeating to the consultant that we had already had a scan and that our baby was alive and he was ok. Half telling the consultant that the baby was ok, while asking if the baby was alive. The consultant explained that he did not know. He said some women do bleed and go on to have their babies, but this is rare. They advised me to stay in hospital, but I was such an emotional wreck that I couldn't face it any more. I went home and had to wait a few days before my 'emergency' scan. Every moment of those few days were spent in floods of tears. Ben telling me that as long as I am ok, we can always have another baby. This support was just thrown back in his face, as I had no interest in my health, just that of my baby's. (not even 'our' baby...mine)
When we went in for the scan, the baby was ok. I was elated.
I played it very safe after the first haemorrhage/threatened miscarriage. My hips hurt all of the time and i was diagnosed with spd. We had our 20 week scan and found out that baby was a good sized, very active, boy. Ben really wanted a son, i didn't mind at all but i was happy to go and get something blue for my hospital bag. That lump of black wavy lines on the screen was my boy. What a feeling. At 5 or so months i managed to get a bus into town. I met Ben for a Starbucks and my life felt normal for an hour. We strolled to asda casually as i was getting the odd sharp twinge. I nipped to the loo and Ben sat waiting for me. The pains started coming thick and fast, i looked down to see a small puddle of blood, i was covered in it. I went straight back out to Ben and said "do not panic"... He saw the blood... And he panicked. We got outside quite quickly and his friend came to drive us to a and e. I was lay on the floor outside asda, unresponsive but conscious. The pain had taken over. In hospital once again they examined me. They couldn't see the cervix properly because if the amount of blood.
While My Mum and Ben were away getting drinks, they moved me from a private room to the A and E ward, where they gave me morphine and a doctor came to explain to me that my baby had apparently die
d, and I would be prepared for theatre. I have never felt so alone. I could feel the baby moving, and this just upset me more. I thought that I must be mad. I thought that every butterfly and twinge I got had been fabricated, and I was then left to explain this to my family, who were totally oblivious.
I did not explain to them. I said nothing.
Ben came back, I was screaming about there being too many feet in my bed... the morphine had kicked in and I was scratching at my face because it felt really itchy and all of the student doctors were walking about the ward talking loudly, I had seen all of their feet through the gap under the curtain.
I was later taken up to a room where a surgeon met me. She was very nice to me, very patient and calming. She held my hand and spoke softly. She asked me what had happened. I explained that I could feel the baby moving, but he had died. I just seemed to burst and the tears wouldn't stop. She asked me if anyone had checked for a heart beat. They hadn't. She checked for me, and there it was, my little boy was alive and I wasn't insane.
They warned me that this fight was far from over and that I was to prepare myself for the worst. They took me down to the maternity ward, I had my own private room, but I was surrounded by other people's new babies.
I stayed for about a month.
The scan showed a large blood clot had formed, somewhere in my notes someone has assumed I had been in a car crash. I had Symphysis pubis dysfunction which left me almost completely immobile, and Placenta praevia. I was informed that they would not attempt to save him before 24 weeks. So this was my new goal. They explained that the baby would be unable to obtain vital nutrients, would be premature and heavily under weight.
Each day I worried myself until I was physically sick. I was in and out of hospital after the 24 week point came, having contractions but my cervix remained closed.
The minutes eventually turned into months, and I prepared myself for a premature baby. I bought him enough closes to see him through the first few days. This carried on and on until I was actually approaching my due date with a baby still in tact. I could barely believe it. Every day was a miracle to me.
I became very large and moving was near impossible. I had several water infections which turned to kidney infections, and everything had stood against my little man.
Then my due date came... and went!!! Baby boy was measuring at a good size some how, and had been on steroid treatment since my first contractions started. At about 34 weeks I had started to dilate. I was 1cm. The doctor said tonight is the night. progressing no further. They told me that I would have to carry on as long as possible.
One of my many scans had an estimated due date on it which was a week out, and somewhere along the line, one of the midwives had used this date. So after going through all of my scan forms, I managed to prove that they had my due date wrong, and the midwife booked me in to be induced the following week.
The week passed slower than years have passed before.
I got to hospital and had the woman opposite warn me that She had been waiting and it was her turn to have her baby before me. She wasn't 15 days overdue like I was, but she had been in a few days.
The midwife checked me first. She asked about the contractions, but I hadn't had any that day. I was 5cm dilated, so they took me straight up... so long suckers!!!
The midwife checked me first. She asked about the contractions, but I hadn't had any that day. I was 5cm dilated, so they took me straight up... so long suckers!!!
Ben rang my Mum and She got there straight away! Ben went home for a shower.
They broke my waters for me, I couldn't really feel anything at all, just like someone popping a water balloon...from within. The waters exploded and hit the midwife in the chest. She had to go and get changed. They stood me over a bucket, which filled. She told me that I was carrying a lot more fluid than normal, and that the baby had pooped, so would need to be checked over as soon as he is born.
The contractions weren't coming so they put me on a drip. I had a diamorphine injection anyway. 4 hours later of flicking through magazines and chatting with my Mum, I asked how long I would be. She looked and said She'd estimate at least 12 more hours.
She finished her shift and another midwife came in. She was lovely. We were all chatting and the diamorphine started to wear off. She asked me if I wanted an epidural and told me "you all get the same prize at the end of it, you don't have to be a hero" but I was more frightened of the epidural!
The pain became suddenly worse, and I got the urge to push. The midwife had gone out as she could hear a very loud Ben wandering around the corridors lost. When She came back in with him, explaining that I would be a good while yet, I screamed at her that I am going to push this baby out now!!!
They broke my waters for me, I couldn't really feel anything at all, just like someone popping a water balloon...from within. The waters exploded and hit the midwife in the chest. She had to go and get changed. They stood me over a bucket, which filled. She told me that I was carrying a lot more fluid than normal, and that the baby had pooped, so would need to be checked over as soon as he is born.
The contractions weren't coming so they put me on a drip. I had a diamorphine injection anyway. 4 hours later of flicking through magazines and chatting with my Mum, I asked how long I would be. She looked and said She'd estimate at least 12 more hours.
She finished her shift and another midwife came in. She was lovely. We were all chatting and the diamorphine started to wear off. She asked me if I wanted an epidural and told me "you all get the same prize at the end of it, you don't have to be a hero" but I was more frightened of the epidural!
The pain became suddenly worse, and I got the urge to push. The midwife had gone out as she could hear a very loud Ben wandering around the corridors lost. When She came back in with him, explaining that I would be a good while yet, I screamed at her that I am going to push this baby out now!!!
She said "No, do not push, you will destroy your downstairs".
She took a look and said, "good grief you are about 8cm's...now you are 10cm... right....push!"
Ben was just taking his coat off... he said "Good job I came back so soon!"
I cannot repeat what I said.
I pushed and I pushed, but his head kept slipping back every time I was getting somewhere. I felt like I was tearing, and the diamorphine had now long worn off!
The midwife dabbed the sore areas with ice cold water. It stopped the burning and made it a lot less painful. Mum and Ben were frantically rubbing my hips, and I was screaming that I just could not do it.
Eventually I pushed out the head, and the shoulders seemed to take a good few pushes too. Then all of a sudden he was out. The midwife asked Ben to press the button for the doctor to come in, but he pressed the wrong one, so the room filled with worried and confused professionals, who all went over and were whispering swear words about my baby. Ben swore, the midwife swore. I screamed and asked what is wrong with my baby... no one said a word.
The midwife carried him over to me, and placed him on me after he had, had a small vacuum down his throat to remove any of the Meconium. He was greyish in colour and his head was a funny shape. I asked what was wrong as everyone looked so shocked.
It felt like a lifetime before the midwife said "He is just bloody massive, not our biggest, but he is the biggest for a few months"
He was born at tea time, on April Fools day no less, weighing a healthy 10lbs 8oz of bubba blubba!
I could not get the placenta out, so I had to go to theatre. Ben held Finnley for the first time, and they watched the England game together. I had to have an epidural for theatre... and it was bliss. I hated myself for not having that in the first place!!!
There were only three babies on the ward. A 4lb baby boy and a tiny girl... then baby hulk of mine, 2ft long and 10lbs 8oz! No chance he was getting mixed up!
She took a look and said, "good grief you are about 8cm's...now you are 10cm... right....push!"
Ben was just taking his coat off... he said "Good job I came back so soon!"
I cannot repeat what I said.
I pushed and I pushed, but his head kept slipping back every time I was getting somewhere. I felt like I was tearing, and the diamorphine had now long worn off!
The midwife dabbed the sore areas with ice cold water. It stopped the burning and made it a lot less painful. Mum and Ben were frantically rubbing my hips, and I was screaming that I just could not do it.
Eventually I pushed out the head, and the shoulders seemed to take a good few pushes too. Then all of a sudden he was out. The midwife asked Ben to press the button for the doctor to come in, but he pressed the wrong one, so the room filled with worried and confused professionals, who all went over and were whispering swear words about my baby. Ben swore, the midwife swore. I screamed and asked what is wrong with my baby... no one said a word.
The midwife carried him over to me, and placed him on me after he had, had a small vacuum down his throat to remove any of the Meconium. He was greyish in colour and his head was a funny shape. I asked what was wrong as everyone looked so shocked.
It felt like a lifetime before the midwife said "He is just bloody massive, not our biggest, but he is the biggest for a few months"
He was born at tea time, on April Fools day no less, weighing a healthy 10lbs 8oz of bubba blubba!
I could not get the placenta out, so I had to go to theatre. Ben held Finnley for the first time, and they watched the England game together. I had to have an epidural for theatre... and it was bliss. I hated myself for not having that in the first place!!!
There were only three babies on the ward. A 4lb baby boy and a tiny girl... then baby hulk of mine, 2ft long and 10lbs 8oz! No chance he was getting mixed up!
