Guest post, by Tania, sharing her story to raise awareness through World Prematurity Month.
Our beautiful boy was born 11 weeks early on the 7th August 2016 weighing a tiny 2lb 2. A week earlier I was abroad myself and my husband was out working in the middle east. Thank goodness I listened to my gut instinct and went to get checked at the hospital. I’d had reduced movements over a few days to none at all, so when I called the hospital they told me to come in straight away. I just knew something wasn’t right, little did I know what was to come. Within 20 minutes of me going in my little boy was delivered via emergency c section. Hearing those words “we have to deliver your baby now” at 29 weeks just didn’t sink in. I saw the colour drain from my husbands face as he said I’ll make phone calls to the family. Surprisingly I was very calm as I knew me being stressed wouldn’t help my baby but inside I was terrified, frightened and unaware of what was going to happen to my baby.
The hardest part for me wasn’t all the doctors or nurses using me like a pin cushion, but the fact of not being able to hold my baby. After delivery he was whisked away. My husband was able to cut the cord and briefly saw him before he was taken to NICU. I wasn’t able to see him for at least 12hrs after I delivered him as I had an epidural and I had to wait for that to subside.
Having a baby is suppose to be a joyous occasion and of course we we’re over the moon that we had created this little life…but it wasn’t a joyous occasion, we were supposed to be holding our baby and cooing over him, but instead I was placed on a post natal ward listening to and seeing mothers with their new-borns whilst my baby was in intensive care fighting for his life in an incubator. The first time I saw him I couldn’t help but blame myself – was it something I did wrong? The one thing I’m suppose to do is to care and protect and to a mother, but that was taken away from me. It felt so unfair our baby wasn’t in our hands but instead being cared for by those in the neonatal unit. The only thing in my control and that was helping him to grow was expressing breast milk. I would be in the feeding room constantly expressing milk to be put away in a freezer to give at a later date.
Each day we would go and see him. We would sit and watch him and over time we started hitting milestones – our first cuddle with all the wires constant beeping and noise of the high flow and everything else. It was a whirlwind of emotions, gradually our little warrior slowly came off each medical device and we moved in to high dependency. He was so strong and so determined which spurred us on to remain strong; if he could do it then so could we. After weeks of being in intensive care and high dependency we were able to move to the SCBU. I was so excited there I could actually feel like his mum and do the things that a mum is suppose to do for him.
On Oct 3rd 2016 we were able to take our little warrior home and we we’re so excited. He is still having constant check ups with the neonatal team but he has done incredibly well. No-one truly understands how you feel or what has happened unless you’ve been through it. If anything has taught us how to remain strong in the most difficult of times and to never plan anything – he really is our special little boy.
If like Tarnia you have a story to share, please contact Catriona at firstname.lastname@example.org
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