|A – Newborn|
OK, so this post is more of a ‘write things down to get them off my chest’ post.
On the 21st October 2011 my baby, A, will be turning 1 and I cannot accept it. I have brought her a few gifts, but I really cannot bring myself to be happy that she is going to be a year old.
A lot of people probably think I am being stupid, and comments have been made about how I should be happy she’s turning 1, how she’s growing blah blah blah…I really don’t want to hear it!
I am distraught, devastated, upset about her growing up. I knew it was going to happen, I just didn’t expect it to be this quick!
It took me a bloody long time to get her here safe and well. It took me a lot of heartache, sheer determination, pain and suffering not knowing whether she would survive the pregnancy, whether I would survive the pregnancy and surgery to deliver her. It feels like the past year has been snapped away from me too quickly and I have not had the chance to enjoy my new baby that was handed to me nearly a year ago!
I am not ready to let go of her being a ‘baby’ just yet! She will always be my baby, of course she will, be she will never be a BABY again and that’s what destroys me! I miss having her in my belly. I miss being pregnant. I miss the newborn smell of her, holding her tiny body in my arms and just watching her sleeping.
I can appreciate that people are only trying to be nice with their comments, but they don’t seem to appreciate how I feel. They don’t understand. I’m sorry, but unless you have been in my situation then you don’t understand how I feel! You don’t understand the pain I went through. You don’t understand the heartache I felt every time I had a massive bleed, losing clots of blood, thinking, is this it? Is this my body giving up on me and my baby. How can my body keep her safe, give her what she needs, when it keeps taking it away from her.
I have written about my pregnancy issues briefly, and I will one day get round to telling you the whole hog, but for now I will just tell you the diagnoses.
After 4 major bleeds from 27 weeks gestation, I was finally diagnosed with Placenta Previa at 33 weeks pregnant. My 21 week scan showed no sign of being low lying. I was one of the rare cases where instead of the placenta growing up, it grew down, so it started covering the cervix the further on in pregnancy I got. At 33 weeks, I suffered my biggest bleed yet. I lost over 400ml of blood (in my pyjama’s alone…not include the amount lost in the toilet). I was rushed to labour ward (I had been told the night previous that I was now a permanent fixture in the hospital until scheduled deliver at 37 weeks). I was monitored and examined. Then I went in to labour. The contractions started, and the consultants decided that they would deliver her that day. I prepared myself to have a very premature, very poorly little girl. Then everything stopped. The bleeding stopped, the contractions stopped, and the consultants decided to stop the Cesarean section. They decided to see how far they could push it. How far could my body take it. How long could my baby hold in there for fighting for her life.
At 34 weeks, they decided they should do an MRI scan on me. Having had a previous c-section, I was at risk of having a condition called Placenta Accreta also. This is where the placenta embeds itself deep in to the uterine wall. I had to take a risk of my baby possibly being born deaf. I felt I had no choice. I had to know if I had this accreta. I had to know how complicated everything was going to be. After all, if it was accreta then the surgery would be a completely different ball game. I took the risk of possibly damaging my unborn child for the rest of her life. The news was not good. Accreta was also diagnosed.
This complicated things terribly. I managed to hold on until my 37+4 week scheduled date. I was taken up to theatre. P was dropping J and K off, so he couldn’t be there when they walked me down. In the theatre, I was put to sleep. I would never hear my babies first cry. I would not be the first person to see her, to hold her, to feed her. I am thankful that P arrived in time and she was given to him straight away.
My baby girl was born at 09:59am. I did not wake up until 12pm, and then I was so out of it from the general anaesthetic that I could only hold her for a few moments before she was whisked back off me.
I am thankful that she was born healthy, although her birth weight was low and she had problems with her blood sugar levels and body temperature for a few days. Her hearing also turned out to be fine (after a scare with the Health Visitor not being able to get a reading in one ear).
And now I feel that I have gone through all of that for time to go too quickly. She’s crawling and cruising and talking and eating real food. I just wish she was that tiny baby again…just for a moment.
|A – nearly 1 years old.|