Tag Archives: smallest things

Premature Birth – Our Journey Through Neonatal Care

My journey through premature birth and neonatal care began back in January 2016.

I was just 24 weeks pregnant when my waters ruptured.

Calling ahead to the maternity day care unit they told me to go straight in. They confirmed that my waters had ruptured and I was taken to the labour ward, unsure if I would progress into labour or not. I spoke to the team from neonatal care and was told that if my baby did come early wasn’t a space for him in the unit, I therefore needed to be transferred to another hospital with spaces for us both. While this was being arranged I started to bleed. It was a relief as it meant I had to stay put, I wasn’t stable enough now to move. The thought of being away from my husband & other son was just too much. But what about my baby? They reassured me that they would do everything they could to find my baby a space.

We met the NICU team and visited the NICU unit. I remember it being so calm, both quiet and noisy at the same time. The beeps – I’ll never forget the beeps.

We were told about the slim chances of our baby surviving at 24 weeks. We were asked if we wanted to ‘let nature take its course’ or if we wanted them to do all they can. That is one question I never want to hear again. There is some naivety about being in hospital. I don’t think it really crosses your mind, that ‘what if?’

I stayed I hospital for about 5 days on bed rest. My baby didn’t arrive so I was allowed home.

For the next 2 weeks I made the trip to maternity unit to get checked over every other day. I had a couple more admissions as well with small bleeds.

On Valentine’s Day 2016 I had a huge bleed. We called my midwife who told us to phone an ambulance. We arrived at the hospital at about 6pm. I was examined, monitored and scanned. They were confident that I wasn’t in labour.

It was around 8pm, shift changeover, that I was put back on the monitor. I was uncomfortable and in a bit more pain. We didn’t see our new midwife much as they were quite busy, and after all I wasn’t in labour… when all of a sudden I felt this immense pressure in my bottom along with a really strong contraction. My husband suggested that we call the midwife, but I said I was fine. Then a couple of minutes later it happened again. My husband shouted for help and the midwife came running. She had a look and could see the baby. The room filled with medical staff, it was hectic, urgent. They whisked my baby off to a room across the corridor, the room emptied.

The waiting was awful. A couple of doctors came and went asking various questions, taking blood samples. One even asked if baby had a name – Jacob.

We were told we would be able to go at around 3am to see him. By this time we were in a private room on the maternity ward. I’d showered, got dressed, phoned my parents and called my sister to check on my other son. Done as much as possible to busy my mind. 3am came. The staff on maternity called NICU to make sure they were ready for us to go round.

The walk to NICU was one of the longest walks of my life. It was the dead of night. There were no other people around. We were buzzed in and I remember we just waited at the reception desk unsure of what to do or where to go. We eventually made our way round to the sink to wash our hands and then made our way to the Intensive Care Room. There was a lot of hustle around our baby. But he was stable. He had been ventilated, he was on a drip, countless medications.

At 27 week, seeing Jacob for the first time at 6 hours old

The one thing I hadn’t been prepared for when I saw his incubator was the condensation. You literally couldn’t see the baby there was so much. We opened the doors to take a closer a look. He was tiny. 2lb 3oz. His skin was red and transparent. He was bruised from his traumatic birth. I broke down. My body had done this to my little baby.

What followed was a long 11 and a half weeks in hospital. He suffered a collapsed lung, numerous suspected infections, not gaining enough weight, reflux, retinopathy of prematurity (ROP), oxygen dependency…but we got there.

First cuddle at 2 weeks old

It was so hard to start with, but once we got into a routine it became more manageable. My husband and I did separate ‘shifts’ at the hospital so we could both spend time with each of our sons. My husband still had to work, my maternity leave pay wouldn’t even cover the mortgage!

Jacob came home 10 days before his due date on oxygen. We were given the choice of staying another couple of weeks to try and wean him off the oxygen, or taking him home. We chose home. I don’t think we could have spent any more time on the unit. We needed to be a family.

Home at last

Jacob is now 2 and a half and doing well. He managed to wean off of the oxygen in December 2017. He is a feisty little bean, full of life. Unless you know him and his rough start, you’d have no idea about what pain his little body has endured.

Saying goodbye to the oxygen at 26 months

And me? Fast forward a little while to November 2017 and I had another premature baby. This time I managed to hold on to him a bit longer – 33 weeks exactly.

I’d had a pretty rubbish pregnancy with lots of bleeds. I’d re-met the NICU team at 24 weeks as I’d been admitted with bleeding. I was terrified the same would happen again.

We were told the likelihood of my waters rupturing early again were slim, so once we’d passed 28 weeks, where we’d got to last time, we were optimistic. Maybe it was just a one off last time?

Or maybe not.

I woke to my waters leaking. It was the middle of the night, my other 2 sons were fast asleep. I woke my husband, called my mum to come and sit with the children and made our way to hospital, I hadn’t even packed a bag! We were quite relaxed about it all, after all we’d done it all before.

We arrived on the labour ward a couple of hours later. I was examined and put on a monitor. We just thought that I’d be home in a couple of days as I wasn’t in labour, again.

How wrong we were.

The baby’s heart rate dropped and took a long time to recover. The room filled and I was being prepped for theatre. I’d had a placental abruption. It was happening again.

In recovery I was shown a couple of pictures of baby. He came out screaming. He was in NICU, but was breathing on his own. He weighed 3lb 12oz.

It was about 6 hours before I was wheeled round to see him. On the way all the staff in NICU congratulated me, told me how beautiful he was and how well he was doing. It almost felt like I’d come home. From our last baby we knew most of the staff. We knew the unit, everything was familiar.

They got my baby straight out of his incubator for me to cuddle. I couldn’t believe I’d got my first cuddles already. He really was ok!! We called him Oliver.

Holding Oliver for the first time

Due to his gestation he didn’t need the scans and tests that our last baby had had. At 33 weeks he just needed time to grow and put on some fat. But during our time in NICU Oliver had trouble maintaining his temperature so he spent longer in an incubator.

Baby Oliver spent longer in his incubator

Obviously home was on our mind. I never asked when they thought he might get to come home – I already knew the answer – aim for his due date. But his due date wasn’t until January. How was I supposed to give Christmas to my other boys and have a baby in hospital? As far as I could see there was no medical issues. We needed to establish feeding and get him to gain some weight. The nurses were fantastic and knew we wanted to be home for Christmas. They pushed Oliver with his breastfeeding and arranged for me to room in sooner rather than later and we made it home, all together for Christmas.

Oliver is 9 months old

Oliver is now 9 months old and doing well with no obvious complications from prematurity.

Jacob and Oliver

Both of my babies journeys in neonatal intensive care were so different. For me the second time around was the hardest. Having that knowledge of what goes on, what to look for, what to do, what can happen – it didn’t help, for me it was worse.

The work that the doctors and nurses do is absolutely incredible. There aren’t enough words to show your thanks and appreciation for all they do, not only for the babies in their care, but also for the families of those babies. I will never forgot our journey through neonatal care.

Written by Hayley Petts

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Can you help to raise awareness of neonatal care? It’s easy, just tap the buttons now and share on Twitter and Facebook!

If you have a story to share, please contact Catriona at smallestthings@yahoo.com

Finally, if you agree that time spent in neonatal intensive care shouldn’t be used as maternity please sign out petition – https://www.change.org/p/extend-maternity-leave-for-mothers-of-premature-babies

You’re not being silly, if you’re worried get checked out – Guest Blog

One thing I never knew when I was pregnant was that I could have a premature baby.

It just wasn’t something that I knew about and it wasn’t something that I knew happened to people…. until now.

I was 30 weeks pregnant and I had been experiencing a pain under my rib cage on the right side of my body. It was about 1:30am and I got up, took some painkillers and tried to go back to sleep. I was still experiencing some pain, but it wasn’t excruciatingly sore, more like a dull pain, so I just got on with it. I thought it was maybe just the baby kicking me in the ribs.

Throughout the morning it was much the same, just a dull pain, nothing more. By lunch time it was still there and got a little more intense, but nothing that I was crippling over in pain. I decided to call the midwives at my local hospital for some advise. Due to my gestation they asked if I could come in just to get checked over.

When we arrived I was hooked up to a machine to measure my contractions. Whenever I was experiencing the pain it wasn’t showing as a contraction and I felt a bit silly being there at that point. As they didn’t really know the cause of the problem the midwife called for a doctor. He examined me and told me that I was 3cm dilated!

Time was a blur from then on.

No one can ever prepare you for the mix of emotions that you experience at that point. Sadness, worry, fear, confusion.

The doctor was trying to arrange transport, either an ambulance or a helicopter to transfer me to a hospital with better facilities for a premature baby.

My waters decided to break though and we no longer had the option of being transferred. I was to deliver where I was.

A doctor came and explained that there could be a chance the baby might not survive, particularly as they didn’t know the reason to why I was delivering early, and we would be best to prepare ourselves for that.

A few hours later, my baby was born weighing 3lbs 9oz.

I got to look at him for about 10 seconds before he was put in an incubator and taken away. He was perfect, just tiny.

He was born at 7:30pm, but we weren’t allowed to go and see him until 11:00pm.

It was the longest wait of our lives. We were just in a room not knowing what was going on. Was he okay? Was he going to survive?

When we got to go and see him it was very difficult to watch. A doctor was stood over his incubator manually pumping air into his mouth to help him regulate his breathing.

Our son got transferred to another hospital at 1am and we were discharged the following morning and headed up to be with him.

He progressed every single day, and amazed us all. He moved onto a C-PAP within a couple of days and started off by taking 1ml of milk per hour! He had episodes of jaundice, but they didn’t last very long before he was back to normal.

It was hard to look at your baby lying in an incubator with the tiniest nappy I’d ever seen, with all sorts of wires going into him.

I’ll also never forget the beeping from the machines around him, I can sometimes still hear them.

The nurses were amazing, and really are a credit to the hospitals. I actually don’t think they get as much credit as they should. And I will never forget when our son stopped breathing for around 20 seconds…. (but it felt like a lifetime for us.) My partner and I were panicking and not knowing what to do, the nurse on the other hand was so calm and just held him, talked to him and tickled his feet and he started breathing again! I couldn’t believe it, I was so amazed. I think this was the moment when we knew he was going to be cheeky!

One thing that I never got to experience was the moment you get to hold your baby straight after giving birth. It was so difficult, you kind of feel disconnected to your newborn in a way. We had to wait 6 days before we could actually hold our son.

The moment was amazing, and I will remember it forever, but I just wish it could have been different. We had to be so careful with him and could only hold him sitting right next to the incubator as he was attached to so many different machines.

I would say that one of the hardest parts of having a premature baby is when you had to leave them in the hospital and drive home without them. I would look over my shoulder into the back seats and just wish he was there. It just felt unreal, or that your baby didn’t exist, because he should be with you wherever you were.

It annoys me when someone says “you’re lucky, at least your birth was easy and that you didn’t have to push out a 10lb baby!”

Trust me, I was not lucky. I would much rather of pushed out a 10lb healthy baby than have a traumatic birth and an ill baby.

So, I just want to raise awareness that if you’re in doubt about anything, go and get you and your baby checked over to prevent delivering early. I think back to that day all the time… what if I just got through the pain and stayed at home, what if I gave birth in the car on the way to the hospital… the list is endless.

I actually experienced the same pain under my rib cage about a week after giving birth. This time it was a very excruciating pain that wouldn’t go away. I went to A&E and I had pancreatitis, brought on by gallstones so I had to have my gallbladder removed. We think this was the reason why our son was born early as the doctors couldn’t find any other reason.

Our son spent a total of 6 weeks in hospital and is now a healthy 20 month old who is meeting all his milestones, apart from he has a delay with his speech. He is an amazing little boy and we are so thankful to have him in our lives.

Guest post by Robyn McIntyre

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World Prematurity Day – It’s Never Too Late To Speak Out

What can only be described as what should have been one of the best chapters of our lives started off as one of the scariest time of our lives.

It’s something you think could never happen to you. 

Delivering your precious baby 8 weeks and 4 days early. Completely unexpected, the baby you’ve been carrying, getting excited about, your new life ahead…. 

Then the doctors tell you ‘he’s a tiny 2.13lb’. 

They take him straight off you, they recusiate him, they put him straight into an incubator with a oxygen mask on. 

He was so brave, yet so fragile.


It’s the complete opposite, directly at odds with the feeling you had been expecting. 

I felt robbed of my pregancy. 

Robbed from everything I should have expericed. 

I felt like I didn’t get the chance to be and to feel like a new mum. 

Every day Ted was in the hospital we didn’t quite know what to expect or what we would be told on the ward round each morning. 

Ted was just 1 week old when the doctors called us aside to tell us he’d had a bleed on the brain. 

As young parents we couldn’t quite grasp everything at once, everything that was happening. 


He was struggling with his feeding, struggling to gain weight and he was so up and down. He then had the bleed on the brain, fluid on the brain and everyday was so different and daunting. 

We stayed in the Ronald Macdonald Suite in Arrowe Park hospital for around 5-6 weeks while Ted was cared for in the Neonatal Unit. They told us he would probably be kept in until at least his due date unless anything improved and it seemed so far away.


My partner Chris went back to work and I just continued to in the hospital, counting down the days. It was the most bizare time of our lives. We joked it was like living in the ‘big brother house’, but the atmosphere was so quiet and lonely. We knew everyone there were going through one of the toughest times of their lives and we didn’t really want to engage in one another, not knowing what news they had just recieved downstairs. 

The staff in Ronald Macdonald really couldn’t have been any more comforting and welcoming, and the doctors and nurses in the neonatal unit we can’t thank enough. We owe them so much, without all the help they put in daily we wouldn’t be where we are today. 

Weeks passed and Ted was jumping rooms from Intensive care to High Depenacy and finally into the last room ‘The Nursery’. 


The feeding tubes slowly came out and the hot cot was introduced. He finally started to look like what some people would describe ‘a normal’ baby, ones without wires or tubes all over there bodys, ones you aren’t scared to hold or touch. 

People think that once you leave the hospital it stops there, that everything goes away and it’s all happy. 

That’s not the case. 

I couldn’t shake the feeling from my stomach that someone was going to take my baby away from me. I guess a little bit of me still can’t now and that is where 8 months in it hit me like a ton of bricks. I suffered hugely with anixety, another thing I never really knew about before. 


Ted was one and we finally got discharged from the hospital all together. That meant no more appointments and we could put some of the memorys to the back of our heads now we weren’t going back to the hospital and being reminded. Being told they was more than happy with his progess and he could be discharged was another one of the happiest days of my life, we joke but Ted actually clapped when the doctor told us, right on cue! 

Here is Ted-Joseph our hero 2 years & 4 months on. 


A little man who walks into the room and lights it up – cheeky, happy and full of mischief!

I feel as a prem mum that it is NEVER too late to speak out about how you are feeling and you’re never alone. So many other people have been or going through the journey others have been on. Together we are strong. 

It’s NEVER too late to raise awareness for these tiny precious little miracles, the ones who pull through, and the ones who are taken too soon.

World Prematuirty Day is on November 17th – will you share Teds story and help raise awareness?

Poppy Hobs
If you have a story to share, contact Catriona at smallestthings@yahoo.com

Too Small, Too Soon – I Couldn’t go Back to Work 

My son Louie was born in July 2016, 12 weeks premature. He spent 116 days in neonatal intensive care, nearly 4 months, and came home on at the end of October. It was the second best day of my life, the first being the day he was born – even though that was an emotional rollercoaster! 

Louie on the day he was born


Louie went through a lot during his stay in NICU; breathing problems, chronic lung disease, NEC, suspected meningitis, metabolic bone disorder, growth problems and a hernia repair. 

He came home on home oxygen as well as lots of medications. How could I possibly leave my baby after only 2 months of having him home?

I could have taken the rest of my years entitlement, then it would have been 9 months that Louie would have been home; but I still didn’t feel as if I could go back so soon. 

I couldn’t trust anyone else, apart from my partner who worked full time, to give Louie his meds and to check his breathing, making sure his oxygen was ok. And what about all his appointments and check ups -how could I take all this time off work? So I decided that I couldn’t go back….

I am currently a full time stay at home mum and even though it is hard financially it has to be done. 

Louie is now 14 months old and he’s still so tiny, weighing just over 14lbs. He isn’t sitting on his own just yet, although he thinks he can! His mind wants to do things but he’s just isn’t physically able. 

Would more time have helped? I think so. Longer maternity leave may have prevented me from handing in my notice. I could have used that time to adjust, to have found care for Louie, someone I could trust. Any mum will always do what is best for their baby and at the time and looking back I knew I was doing the best thing for Louie and for me. 

Louie aged 14 months


I really hope the government will look again into this matter. No one wants their baby to be born early and with medical problems. How can it be right that we are denied time with our babies or forced to give up work? Having a premature baby is nowhere near the same as being the mother of a healthy full term baby – our circumstances are totally different and our maternity leave entitlements should be too. 

Louise Harrison 

If you agree with Louise, please sign The Smallest Things petition to extend maternity leave for mothers of premature babies. 

Once an NICU Mum, Always an NICU Mum 

As a little girl all I ever dreamt of was being a mum. I never dreamt of my career, I just dreamt of having my own family around me. Never in my wildest dreams did I think our journey would be so difficult.

In March 2013 my husband and I got married. We knew we wanted to start trying for children straight away and of course I thought it would happen quickly. Oh how wrong I was! 

I was soon sitting in the fertility clinic, being diagnosed with PCOS and prescribed Clomid. After a couple of rounds we got pregnant and we were elated! Our joy soon disappeared though as I miscarried. It was hard to take, but we picked ourselves up and plodded on. The consultant suspected I had a bicornuate uterus and thought he may be able to operate to give us a better chance at carrying a healthy pregnancy. I went down to theatre to get ‘fixed’ and remember waking up from the anaesthetic and asking the nurse next to my bed ‘am I fixed?’ She told me ‘no’, the consultant couldn’t operate and I broke down. The consultant came to see us and told me something I didn’t even know was possible. ‘You have something called Uterus Didelphys’. I looked at him like he had just told me I have two heads…. I was close – TWO WOMBS. Yes two wombs and two cervix!!

I fell pregnant for a second time in December 2014, but sadly miscarried. While I was waiting for a new cycle to start to take my Clomid I fell pregnant again! This time my consultant stepped in and prescribed me progesterone pessaries to use everyday and low dose aspirin to help the lining of my womb and the blood flow. It worked!

7 weeks came and went, 8 weeks, 9, 10…. When I got to 12 weeks I couldn’t believe it, I was starting to have hope this could really be it. I had a couple of scares with bleeding etc but all was fine. 

The risk of me being pregnant with uterus didelphys however was premature birth because my womb is half the size of a normal womb. I got to 26 weeks without a hitch and then I noticed that my baby boys movements had slowed right down.  I was admitted into hospital where I was given steroids injections and monitored every 4 hours. After two nights I was discharged home and was able to celebrate my birthday. 10 days later though, when I was attending my 28 week growth scan, they weren’t happy with babys size – yet again I was admitted to the maternity ward and monitored. 

My husband left the hospital to go home at 11pm and by 1am he was called back as they weren’t happy with babies trace. I was rushed down to theatre for an emergency Csection, delivering my baby boy at 28 weeks! 12 weeks early! I had no idea what to expect but it was my worst nightmare. A very poorly baby boy.


The first time i got to see my son I was called down because he had stopped breathing and they couldn’t get the ventilator into his lungs. 

I walked into a world I never knew existed. The beeps, the smells, the constant hand washing and antibacterial gel. Seeing my poor little human covered in wires and surrounded by nurses and doctors in a panic. It’s a sight I will never forget. The first time I met my son he was moments away from death. 

Thankfully they got his breathing under control and I was able to sit with him and start to examine this little man that we had made. He was beautiful, so tiny, but all ours.

The first two weeks is a blur, I remember feeling numb. I never dreamt it would be like this, giving birth to your child who is then snatched away, put in a glass house plugged in to 15 plus machines needed to give him life saving medicine. I was a spectator, I had lost out on that chance to be a Mummy. 

I was still mourning the loss of my third trimester – this isn’t how I should have been spending the last 12 weeks of my pregnancy, in a stuffy intensive care unit in the middle of summer, watching my child fight for every breath. 


Paralysed from medicine to help him get stronger. His face and body were so swollen. The staff used to come into work wondering if he would still be there. Sickest baby on the unit are given 40% chance of survival. That is not how I should have been spending that time. My missing trimester.

Being an NICU mum there isn’t a lot you can do for your baby, so the few things you can do you grab with two hands. Expressing is key for a premature baby, so anything I could do to give him the upper hand I was willing to do. Everything revolved around expressing, but it was a struggle. Why couldn’t I produce more? What is wrong with me? Why could I only fill half a bottle when I see other mums coming down with multiple! It was heartbreaking. Just call me the 30ml mum. In the end, due to surgery while my son was still in SCBU, my milk completely stopped so we had to move to formula. I had tried my best and as much as it broke me I knew I had given him everything I could.


Being an NICU Mum is lonely. Although you have all of these other people around you, you are cut off from the outside world… Cut off from reality. If you’re lucky, which I believe I am, you can find some special friendships while riding the rollercoaster of SCBU.


After a lot of ups and downs we FINALLY got to take our precious boy home! Bags packed and oxygen in tow we were leaving the NICU, our home for the past 97 days. It was scary, but we were so ready. Ready to start our life as a family of 3.


Our not so little boy is 22 months now. He has a lot ahead of him but we are so proud of how far he has come. The NICU will always be a part of our lives and even after not being there for over 18 months our minds always wander back there. Christmas, NYE, Easter any occasion we will always think of NICU and the families past and present. Each journey in the NICU can be so different but there’s one thing which will always stay the same ‘ONCE AN NICU MUM, ALWAYS A NICU MUM’.


With special thanks to Sophie for sharing her story through pregnancy and premature birth. 

If you’d like to help The Smallest Things continue to raise awareness, please SHARE Sophie’s story – it’s easy, just hit the Twitter and Facebook buttons now!

Got your own story of NICU and premature birth to share? Email Catriona at smallestthings@yahoo.com

The Ups & Downs and Twists & Turns of NICU

I went into labour at 23 weeks + 2 days with my identical twin boys. It has truly been a roller-coaster ride of ups and down, twists and turns – and our story isn’t over…

Throughout the pregnancy everything was fine. I attended regular check ups and scans, and both boys were developing really well. Then, on the 15th October, I went into spontaneous labour. At 8.36pm twin 1 was born, followed by twin 2 at 8.42pm. Both weighing just 580 grams each.

It was the most terrifying moment of my life. Not knowing if they were going to survive was heart breaking.

 

Jace Eli Twin 1.jpg

Eli Jace – Twin 1 weighed just 580g

 

Both boys were rushed off to intensive care where the doctors and nurses worked round the clock to help them to survive. When I saw both boys my heart ached for them. I just cried. Seeing them struggling to adapt to the outside world was hard and we couldn’t do anything except watch, wait and cry. Sadly 6 days later twin 1, Jace Eli, passed away. He really struggled with the transition from womb to world and his tiny lungs were just too immature.

Emergency Surgery

Twin 2 Kellen Jace was the weaker twin, having been given a hour to live after birth, but he was fighting to live. As days passed Kellen had so much stuff to fight – various infections, high blood pressure, a grade 2 bleed on his brain, chronic lung disease – he needed numerous blood transfusions and at 4 weeks old Kellen developed Necrotizing Enterocolitis (NEC). He had to have emergency surgery to remove part of his bowel and needed a stoma. It was touch and go if he was going to make it through the surgeryE.

 

Kellen

Kellen – Twin 2, weighing just 580g

I got my first hold 55 days after he was born. It was truly magical. Kellen was ventilated for the first 13 weeks of his life, he had been given steroids to help wean him off the ventilator and 2 days before Christmas he was put on BiPAP. He was slowly making progress.

Dad had his first hold on Christmas Day which was the best present ever!

Laser Eye Surgery

Over the weeks Kellen became stronger and was weaned on to CPAP, but then in early January 2017 he was diagnosed with stage 3 Retinopathy of Prematurity (ROP). He needed laser eye surgery. Thankfully the surgery was a success and he didn’t require any more laser surgery, but due to Kellen being cannulated so many times the doctors were beginning to struggle to access him to give him his nutrition (TPN) and medicines. So, he needed to go back to theatre. They fitted a broviac line so doctors were able to have better access, however Kellen took a turn for the worst  a few days later. He developed an e-coli infection for the 2nd time and ended up back on the ventilator.

The doctors were worried he would struggle to get back off it. His lungs collapsed and they were badly affected so he was given a second course of steroids. Kellen started to make progress a few weeks later and was put back on to BiPAP where he was weaned again onto CPAP and then high flow. He was making progress again and was determined to fight this nasty infection. Kellen managed to get onto low flow and continued to do well.

kellen .jpg

Kellen spent 138 days on NICU in the Jessops hospital in Sheffield before being transferred to Sheffield Children’s hospital on 2nd March. He was doing well, we were hopeful, but a week later he developed 2 infections – 1 in the broviac line and a chest infection. For such a tiny baby it knocked him sideways, really struggling with his breathing and needing to be put back on high flow.

Surgery… again…

Recovering from both infections with the help of strong antibiotics, Kellen then needed yet more surgery. The broviac line he had had fitted in January stopped working and as his veins were still so weak the doctors had to fit another line to keep access. The surgeon carrying out the surgery also managed to reconnect his bowel back together at the same time. Which was a massive relief as it meant only one additional surgery instead of two.

A Little Super Star

Since the surgery took place on 11th April 2017 Kellen has done amazingly well! He is still in hospital after 6 and a half months, but he is on the right road. He is gaining weight, now weighing 5.4kg (11lb 14oz) and  has recently started bottle feeding. The nurses are looking to train me and dad up for his oxygen and tube feeding at home and although we haven’t got a date of when we can bring him home we are just so glad he has been able to fight through everything that has been thrown at him.

kellen 6 mths

Kellen at 6 and a half months old, although just 11 weeks corrected age

He truly is our little super star. 

Ganelle

From The Bottom of our Hearts – Thank You

Olli has come home!

Mum to premature baby, born at just 28 weeks, has written a letter to the neonatal nurses and doctors who cared for her premature baby at Burnley General Hospital. Lynsey, who spent every day of their 82 day journey through neonatal care visiting her tiny son, has shared with The Smallest Things her moving letter to the professionals involved in their special care.

Dear NICU Nurses and Doctors,

You have no idea how much you mean to us, or how you will always hold a very special place in our hearts. The love, respect, and admiration that we have for you can compete with no one.
You took care of our baby, when we, his parents didn’t know how. We didn’t know how to change his nappy without moving his lines. We didn’t know how to pick him up to change his bedding. We didn’t know what medication went where, or how to run the machines that were keeping him alive.

We tried our best, we really did. But he was so sick, and we were so scared. We were thrust into the NICU hours after his surprise early delivery. The first time we saw our baby he was in an incubator, and hooked up to more machines than we could count. You told us how we could touch him without stimulating him too much. You had tissues ready because you knew that we would cry. You encouraged us to interact with him even though you knew we were frightened too, you let us bath him, you let us change his nappy and didn’t get mad when we fumbled through three nappies and bed sheets because our little boy kept peeing before we could get the new nappy on. You let us change his nose cannula stickers, even though we both knew you could do it 10 times faster. We never felt more like his parents than at those times. You let us take home NICU souvenirs like his heart monitor leads and his first tiny dummy. When he opened his eyes you helped us get a picture of them. You answered every single phone call we made. You listened to us asking the same questions over and over and made us feel welcome being by his bedside day after day. You comforted us while we cried and encouraged us to believe he would come home.


You gave him, and us, every piece of your strength, day in and day out, for weeks. You did everything in your power and more to keep him alive. We feel like ‘Thank You’ isn’t enough, but it’s all we have to give you. You’re amazing, and you do things no one else can. So from the bottom of our hearts, thank you.

Lots of Love
Lynsey and Daniel & his big brother Eli xxx

Watch! The #NotMatLeave Film

We are hugely grateful to the film company Little Whale for producing and sharing their own story in support of our #NotMatLeave campaign.  

Check out their short film here –

If you like the film as much as we do then please help us to share the #NotMatLeave message far and wide. It’s easy – just click on the Facebook and Twitter buttons now! 


Sign the petition! Extend Maternity Leave for Mothers of Premature Babies. 

115,218 Voices go to Parliament

This week Smallest Things supporters and volunteers handed in 115, 218 signatures to the Dept. for Business, Energy and Industrial Strategy. The petition is for the attention of Minister Margot James MP who, among many other things, is responsible for parental leave policy.

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Until now the minister has declined our requests to meet with parents affected by premature birth…but we now have a glimpse of hope that our 115,218 voices will be heard!

No dates have been offered yet, but an intention to arrange a time to meet with families has been made. Watch this Space….

Thank you to everyone who shared #NotMatLeave pictures of their time in NICU on Facebook and Twitter – together we can raise awareness and make change happen!

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If you haven’t signed the petition yet, the link is still open and can be signed here.

Look but Don’t Touch – Life After Neonatal Care

As I prepared to be discharged from hospital with my tiny 30 weeker, I kept getting told by the staff to avoid supermarkets. I was completely baffled – were supermarkets really such an awful breeding ground for germs?! I solemnly promised the consultant that I wouldn’t go near supermarkets until Luca’s due date. Once we were home, I asked the outreach nurse about the rationale for supermarket avoidance. She said people in supermarkets have a tendency to touch small babies in their prams. I laughed – why would anyone pay attention to me pushing a pram around with a screaming baby?!
Oh how wrong I was.
From the day I felt more confident to take Luca out (around his due date), I’ve faced a constant stream of people trying to touch my baby or asking personal questions. For some reason, a teeny baby seems to be public property. After spending weeks of religiously sanitising hands before touching your baby, the sight of anyone putting their hands near Luca was enough to send me into a rage. Some people just don’t seem to have any concept of a mum and baby’s personal space. I’ve had family members and friends visit us in NICU, longing for a cuddle but knowing I was the only one allowed to hold my baby.
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I didn’t let anyone hold Luca until his due date arrived. He was only 4lb when I took him home. So the very last thing I wanted was strange hands all over his little body in the pram. There have been times where I have rushed around the supermarket close to tears, praying for Luca to stop crying too so I can avoid taking him out of the pram for comfort. My reaction to unwanted contact has been a firm ‘don’t touch my baby – he’s premature’ has had mixed results. Usually, people appear mortified and apologise. But no baby deserves unsolicited contact, premature or term. On other occasions, I’ve received some sharp advice. I should put a blanket over my baby’s pram if I don’t want people to touch. Why am I taking such a young baby outside anyway?! (He was 3 months old at this point). Silly me, for wanting some normality after the horrors of NICU for 6 weeks. Not that I had much choice; as a single parent, if I didn’t run errands, they wouldn’t get done at all.
As the months have passed, it hasn’t got any easier. Luca is now nearly 6 months and has finally tipped over the 10lb mark on the scales. But I’m still stopped regularly by people who want to admire my ‘new baby’. The only thing new about him is his smile, finally! I’ve developed a thicker skin and a few coping mechanisms since discharge:
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– Get a sign to alert people to your baby’s special status. Luca’s ‘don’t touch’ sign has mainly positive results, but there is still the odd oblivious person who thinks THEY are allowed to touch. It also has the unintended benefit of attracting other preemie relatives for a chat. I got our sign from Etsy and another preemie parent has also produced a badge to keep unwanted hands away.
– Wear your baby in a sling. I’ve yet to encounter someone rude enough to put their hands down my top – but never say never!
– Use your raincovers as a barrier. I have looked slightly odd on sunny days but I will use my raincovers in crowded places such as surgery waiting rooms if we’re in a confined space.
– Be firm. I will wheel Luca’s pram out of people’s reach and tell them (abruptly) not to touch my baby.
After the NICU rollercoaster, being rude to someone risking my baby’s health is the least of my worries.
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Guest post by Carla, mum to Luca born at 30+6 (emergency c-section for absent end diastolic flow and IUGR)

How can health visitors support families after NNU?

Hello, my name is Charlie. I’m a health visitor and practice teacher. I’m also an IVF mummy to a 32 weeker (who is now 5).

I remember my daughter’s delivery as if it was yesterday. My waters began to go whilst I was doing our local child health clinic. I was admitted to hospital and five days later I gave birth to our beautiful little girl, Emma. I was 32+1 and Emma weighed 3lbs, 4oz. Emma and I are very close, she is my little buddy. One thing which still upsets me still, is that Emma was taken from me at delivery and taken to NNU. This was absolutely the right thing for her, but as a new mother, it is very traumatising. Having your baby taken from your arms by her paediatricians was something I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

I had my placenta manually removed in theatre whilst I haemorrhaged four pints of blood. Whilst I desperately tried not to faint, I could see my husband’s face getting paler and paler. He later described the scene as a ‘blood bath’ and that he was worried he would lose me. I knew I would be ok, but from my husband’s point of view, it probably was a bit scary. I could not fault the care that I received. In some ways, it was a blessing having Emma in NNU as it gave me the time to recover and regain my strength.

Emma spent three weeks in NNU. The staff are amazing. They supported me in breast feeding her and were nothing but kind and caring. However, as a mummy, it can be a really boring place to be. Emma slept loads. So other than expressing milk and writing thank you cards, I did not have much to do. As Emma moved through the unit towards discharge, I remember craving to be normal. hv-blog

Finally we were discharged home. I had no experience as a mother, so reverted back to what I knew, my job. So Emma and I went to the child health clinic I used to run. It felt so familiar, but so different. Many of the other mums came over to speak to me. Those who I did not know made comments on how they had never seen such a small baby before. I just wanted to run away. My baby was not something out of a circus show, she was mine and she was beautiful and strong. This familiar, safe place I had been too had let me down. I felt uncomfortable and isolated.

What this has taught me as a health visitor, is that is does not matter what you do for a living, when you are a preemie mummy, you are a preemie mummy. It is ok to grieve for the loss of ‘normal’. It is ok to feel sad that the paediatrician took your baby away and it is ok to feel like you don’t belong and that your baby is different. I am also very mindful of how daddies feel, we cannot forget that they might also grieve and that they too can feel traumatised. Unfortunately we do not see fathers often, but they are a vital part of the family and cannot be forgotten.

We deliver the Healthy Child Programme to all families, but when you’ve delivered early, you might have missed out on the antenatal. We have good relationships with our NNU’s and often visit families in hospital. I know the mothers I have met have been pleased of the company if nothing else. When baby come home, your health visitor will visit you and your baby for your new birth visit. This is an opportunity to explore your feelings and you can discuss with your HV how best she/he can support you. Postnatal depression (PND) affect 1:10 women, but you are statistically more likely to suffer PND if you have had IVF or suffered a traumatic event, including delivering early. HV’s can support you through listening visits and signposting. Please do not feel afraid to speak honestly to your HV. She/he will not judge or criticise. We are just here to support you in being the best parent you can be for you baby. I have put several preemie mothers in contact in my area and they have found great support in each other. If you are keen to meet another preemie mummy, ask you HV is she knows anyone who has a similar story to you. The chances are they do.

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Preemie mummies and daddies are amazing and preterm babies are gorgeous and special. I’m a very proud mother of my preterm and it is true what they say, “Only special people deliver a preterm baby.” 

 

With special thanks to Charlie Woodley, preemie mum and health visitor, offering important words of advice.

Like what you’ve read? Would like to help us raise awareness? Then click the sharing Facebook and Twitter buttons and make The Smallest Things Matter.

Got a story you’d like to share?  email Catriona at smallestthings@yahoo.com

 

 

My NICU Warrior

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.

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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.

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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.

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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.

Tarnia Lewis

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If like Tarnia you have a story to share, please contact Catriona at smallestthings@yahoo.com

Like Tarnia’s Story? Would like to help us raise awareness? Then please share on Facebook, Twitter – far and wide!

Mason & Teegan-Mae: Our NICU Journey

Guest blog post by mum of two, Sophie Willis, raising awareness as part of World Prematurity Month

I always dreamed of having a perfect pregnancy with a complication free birth and having immediate skin to skin with my new born.

At 35 weeks in July 2013 I was admitted to hospital with irregular contractions. I still had hope that I would make it to term – or as close to term as possible.
After a few days my waters broke and I went in to spontaneous labour. 2 hours and 51 minutes later I delivered a perfect little girl called Teegan-Mae. She weighed 1.990kg and was beautiful.

She was took to SCBU and stayed for 10 days with feeding difficulties, temperature control and jaundice.

Immediately after Teegan’s birth, I still longed for the perfect pregnancy and delivery. My partner and I always wanted more than one child so we decided to start trying right away.

Eventually with the help of fertility drugs due to secondary infertility, we found out I was pregnant in April 2015. My partner and I were over the moon, and was so excited for Teegan to become a big sister.

Despite having awful morning sickness, my pregnancy was perfect.

At 24 weeks I started to have contractions and went to my local hospital. I was examined immediately and given steroids – Ouch! I was transferred from Swindon to Oxford to be in a hospital with a better equipped NICU. Fortunately, the contractions had stopped and I returned home.

“I was worried sick, I felt like I was suffering a loss, I knew my pregnancy was going to end very soon. My partner, daughter and little bump was the only things keeping me going.”

At 28 weeks, I was admitted to hospital with contractions again. This time I was 2cm dilated and I knew this was it.
A few days passed, contractions still present and I had an awful feeling in my gut…
My waters broke and baby was in distress. I was prepped for a cesarian section where my gorgeous little boy Mason-George was born. He weighed 1.348kg and was born crying! Mason was transferred to NICU, where he was put on CPAP.

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The first week after Mason was born was my worst nightmare. He was very distressed and needed to be ventilated. He also had a blood transfusion, returned to CPAP and then went on high flow. We also learned Mason had a PDA and a hole on his heart. He also had an inguinal hernia.

“I felt awful leaving Mason every night, and also felt just as bad leaving Teegan during the day.”

The unit became our second home. I always thought my body failed him, so I wasn’t going to fail him now. I provided all his cares, belongings and spent hours at his cot side expressing for him.

I learnt so much about my little boy, he had many apnoeas, desaturations and bradycardias. He had multiple blood gasses, blood tests, transfusions and cannulas for antibiotics or IV fluids. He had medication daily, and I was able to feed him breastmilk via NG tube and attempt breastfeeding when he was big enough – although he took a long time to coordinate himself!

 

Mason required an operation for his hernia and his immunisations which we’re little set backs for him. His PDA shut without intervention which was a huge positive!

After 88 days in NICU, Halloween, bonfire night, Christmas, Daddy’s birthday and New Year – Mason came home 9 days after his due date.

The transition home was hard, no monitors, temperature checks, charting feeds or nurses for additional support. But we quickly adapted and found a routine which worked for us all.

During our stay in the NICU, I learned to take each day at a time. Each small set back made room for a leap in the right direction. As little as these premature babies are, they have courage, fight and strength like no other.

The nurses who looked after Mason while I could not be there hold a special place in my heart. Keeping my baby comforted, fed and warm when he should be tucked up in my stomach. They are present during the darkest time of many families life’s, but also the greatest times too. Such amazing people.

We have made life long friends while in the NICU, we could support and advise each other as we have that one thing in common!

I now have 2 happy and healthy NICU graduates. My little miracles.

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Raising awareness for prematurity holds a massive place in my heart. I knew nothing about prematurity until it happened to us.

Will you share Sophie’s story to raise awareness?

Have you got a story to share? Email Catriona at smallestthings@yahoo.com

A Roller Coaster Journey: Told by a NICU Dad

From the start…

Nic’s pregnancy didn’t seem to be anything out of the ordinary.  Apart from the sunstroke whilst on our first holiday in Turkey and the extreme vomiting that is.  All appeared normal until that 1st scan, 12 weeks in.  “There’s 1 heartbeat, and there’s the other. Congratulations your having twins’’ was what we thought we heard from the sonographer.  There couldn’t be, this hadn’t even cross our minds as there was no history of twins in either side of the family.  But that’s what we had heard, two of them were there on the screen and the scan didn’t fib!  That was at the QE in Gateshead on 10/07/2013.  We were sent for a more detailed scan 2 days later at the RVI in Newcastle as they were specialists when it came to twins.  So a few days later, while I was away with work, Nic attended the RVI for further scans and tests which all seemed fine.  Sure enough it was twins, and they had a present for daddy from within the womb – a personalized message on the scan picture!

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What happened next?

The 20 week scan confirmed we were expecting twin boys, which we nicknamed Blip & Blop.  Shortly after, 6pm on a Thursday night, I went to help Nic in with bags and stuff from the car from her finishing work.  She was complaining of stomach pains and didn’t feel quite right.  However, by 9pm they had stopped and so assumed they were Braxton Hicks which come earlier in the pregnancy when expecting twins.

We didn’t think any more of it; As I was about to leave for work the next morning I still wasn’t concerned when Nic told me she’d “had a show” as she got out of the shower.  We rang the maternity assessment department at the RVI and they advised we should call in so Nic could be assessed just to be on the safe side.  So at 8am we set off and the way there we joked about how it would be a nightmare if she was to go into labour and we had to make this journey in rush hour traffic, as we were doing now.  Little did we know, until we got to the hospital, that Nic was actually in labour, and she was 3cm dilated.  We were only at 23 weeks and 5 days; we were told to expect the worst.  The next few hours passed in a daze as Nic was admitted onto the delivery suite. She was given a steroid injection to help develop the babies lungs and another shot had to be done 24 hours later. Everything was done to try and stop or delay the labour, and fingers crossed it seemed to be working, Nic got the second steroid injection 24 hours later and everything appeared to have calmed down.

“Expect the worst” to me meant that they were on their way, I never thought they meant there was little chance of survival.  Even in the delivery suite, when the ‘baby doctor’ came to visit and explained the likelihood of survival was extremely slim and to try and prepare us for what was about to happen, there was a stubbornness in me that said “you’re wasting your breath”.

And then it happened

Around 2pm on the Saturday afternoon it happened and Nic’s Waters broke, or rather trickled.  The midwife explained that now there was no going back, this was it.  We had a list of names that we had been thinking about but now we had to decide. We couldn’t let them come into the world and have no names so there it is Jake & Kyle’s journey was about to begin. The ’Baby Doctors’ were put on standby, texts were sent letting people know.  Things seemed to drag, then rush, drag then rush. A few hours later and they decided Nic was to be put on a drip to now speed up the labour as they couldn’t let the boys get tired.  2 portable incubators were placed in the room, the midwife disappeared; where was she when we needed her; where were the baby doctors?

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Mild panic, no need to worry; everyone was in the right place at the right time, apart from the nurse who stood in the wrong place when Nic’s waters really did break, squirting across the room!!  Jake arrived at 9.51pm, the tiniest little thing you’ve ever seen no bigger than my hand, with skin like a baby bird.

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He was whisked across to the incubator where a team of 5 or 6 doctors and nurses turned their backs on us and concentrated solely on Jake getting him breathing.  After about 5 or 10 minutes but what seemed like forever he was held up to us for kisses, before being whisked away.  Where to?  We didn’t really know.  Then silence.  No contractions, no nothing.  Could twin number 2 hold on for days, weeks more?  It was possible, apparently and that’s what the consultants were hoping for. They explained that they would leave Jake’s placenta in and put stitches in and that would be it. That was until Nic started to lose blood, she didn’t know what was happening, but I could see that she was losing more and more. Suddenly, what we thought was a busy room began to get a whole lot busier and it became obvious emergency surgery was required.

It was Nic’s worst nightmare and had already expressed her fears, to give birth to one baby naturally and the other by emergency caesarean. But at that moment in time, she didn’t care; anything to get Kyle out ok.   Whisked off to theatre, where originally we were hoping I could be there and Nic could be awake to meet Kyle as we didn’t know what was going to happen. However, once in there it became apparent Nic lost more blood than they thought and time was against us. She had to be put to sleep. Pacing the floor outside theatre I had no idea how much time passed before they came to tell us Kyle had been born at 11.52pm. By this point the newly Granda and Nana had arrived at the RVI for the second time and we were all invited to see Kyle – in the corridor -before he too was whisked away.

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The baby doctors were breathing for him, but still had time for us to pay that brief visit.  Nic came round in the recovery room several hours later, and she was still groggy when we were told Kyle was off to Middlesbrough as there was “no room at the inn RVI”. We prayed and hoped he would survive the journey but they couldn’t guarantee anything.

Welcome to the world…

So our 2 boys were here, Jake born weighing 1lb 6oz, Kyle 1lb 7oz.  Good weights for their gestation apparently, especially for twins.  Nic had cooked them well although she didn’t feel like that. Jake got the last available bed at the RVI, Kyle was 30 miles down the A19 at James Cook Hospital on Teesside.

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So from expecting a quick check-up and discharge, a whirlwind few hours had changed things dramatically.

…The world of SCBU

Not many people experience the workings of a SCBU, or Special Care Baby Unit.  We got to experience 2 SCBUs for a short time – shorter than expected thankfully.  Initially told it could be 3-4 weeks before Kyle was strong enough to be transferred back to Newcastle, it was actually only 6 days before he was taking his 2nd ambulance trip.  Nic had only just managed to visit Kyle on that very day, having been unable to visit initially due to having her caesarean and been admitted in the RVI but then suffering from sickness & diahorrea she wasn’t allowed in.  Thankfully she was able to visit James Cook hospital and take a thank you card to the nurses there for looking after Kyle during his crucial first days. I was grateful for this as Nic needed to see where Kyle had spent his first week.

Those early days were unreal; looking back it seems like a lifetime ago, yet so vivid despite everything that was going on.  Everything was alien to us, we had never even imagined that there was a unit in the hospital to care for premature babies – so many premature babies.  Experiencing 2 neonatal units was interesting, completely different layouts and methods.  At the RVI, Jake was in a small room, bay 7, in the red area of SCBU which only had 4 beds in the room, while Kyle was in the first incubator we saw, in a larger room with around 8 other babies.  Both looked tiny in their incubators, yet perfectly formed with little fingers and toes.

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Thankfully Kyle was able to return to the RVI quickly, and he took up residence in the same bay as his brother, so we had half of the bay to ourselves.  We didn’t realize at the time how long we would be in there, many other babies came and went from the 2 other spaces in the room while we were in there.

Everyone talks about the SCBU journey being a rollercoaster, and it really is the best way to describe it.  12 days in, Kyle opened his eyes for the first time, then the next day we had a massive downturn…

At only 13 days old Jake needed an operation on his stomach, the doctors weren’t sure what was wrong but his tummy swelled up and there was clearly something going on.  To be told by the doctors that he had a 50:50 chance of surviving the operation but wouldn’t make it without it was the worst feeling ever. We had to wait on blood being delivered from Leeds before the op could go ahead.  We followed him along the corridor in his travel incubator as he went to theatre then had to wait for what seemed to be an eternity for news. We were told not to go far in case we needed to be called into theatre. 3 long, long hours later we saw the nurses going to collect him, great news he’d made it. Then we got a message that the surgeon wanted to see us, which brought us right back down wondering what was wrong; why did he need to see us, Jake was here.  Thankfully he wanted to let us know that the operation had been a success; that all was good and we had the best possible outcome! However, Jake had returned with a stoma, he’d had NEC (necrotizing enterocolitis), a perforated bowel.  The next couple of days were ropey to say the least, morphine keeping Jake sedated while all we could do as parents was watch his sats monitor. Beep. Beep, Beep.  Kyle was doing ‘ok’ but we were told to take it hour by hour not day by day for now.

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After 2 weeks paternity leave I was due to return to work, but there was too much going on to even consider it.  Thankfully work were understanding and told me that the boys were my priority, they understood the seriousness of the situation.  I did make it back for half a day but then Nic took ill with a cellulitis infection and was readmitted to hospital.  When I did see friends & colleagues it was clear that some people didn’t really know what to say, were congratulations in order as with most babies, or not.

3 weeks in and we got to understand what a stoma was; we learnt to empty the stoma bags that were attached to Jake’s stomach to catch the poo, a nice pleasant experience!  His skin though was so soft and transparent that the bags didn’t like to stick, and needed changing regularly due to leakage.

Reading to the boys gave us some more interaction with them rather than just changing nappies and cleaning faces for 10 minutes twice a day. That was all we were allowed.

Day 25 was another hurdle to overcome, an early start led to a trip to the Freeman Hospital for a heart operation for Kyle.  All babies have a duct in the heart that usually closes at birth.  However premature babies’ ducts can remain open as they’re not ready to close yet, meaning that surgery is the only option. Without it, it’s unlikely that he would breathe without the ventilator keeping him alive.  Consenting to allow a surgeon to operate on a heart so small is not the easiest thing to do, however there was no alternative.  Thankfully all went well and Kyle was back at the RVI by lunchtime.  The next couple of days were again more worrying, as Kyle took longer to come off the morphine than Jake had after his bowel op.  Every time they tried to bring him round he was fighting against the machines so they had to keep him sedated while his body learned to pump blood through the heart the right way. They say every baby is different but you can’t help but compare.  6 days later and Jake had the same heart op, different surgeon but the same result, a metal clip to close up the duct.

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From here on in it was all about growing and getting both boys breathing on their own and feeding of course. Well when I say on their own I mean not the ventilator taking breathes for them, them doing it on their own but still with oxygen support.  From ventilator to Bi-Pap, Bi-Pap to C-Pap, C-Pap to Humicare, humicare to Low Flow Oxygen.  Massive steps along the journey and not steps that were taken easily and sometimes steps that had to be taken backwards as well as forwards.

When Jake came off the ventilator on day 75 I got a massive surprise – it was the middle of ward round when it was pointed out to me that he’d made the big step and seemed to be doing well – so happy the tears flowed!

Along the way though we managed happy times: On day 39 it was Halloween and we decorated the incubators with blankets and pumpkins, day 42 and we finally got to hold both boys at the same time! That moment had been a long time coming but fantastic when it happened.

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Other milestones were reached; joining the 1 kilo club was a massive achievement, first baths after more than 60 days of topping and tailing, progress with feeding too, going from continuous feeds via a tube to syringe feeding to bottles.  All big steps for little boys.

During the journey the boys also had to have numerous blood transfusions and Jake had to receive platelets too. This was scary the first time but then you get used to it.

Growth was a big thing.  “The bigger they get, the stronger they are”, said one of the consultants.  Granda described them perfectly as “massive tiny babies” as they grew well. Kyle more quickly than Jake due to his stoma. He was having problems gaining weight which seen a lot of doctors have input to what fat/calories he was to have through the TPN.

ROP (Retinopathy of prematurity) is a common problem in prem babies.  Both Jake and Kyle had regular checkups to gauge how and when action was required. This wasn’t pleasant as their tiny eyes are clamped open.  Jake’s eyes were the worst and his only option was to have Avastin injections (which weren’t even licensed in the UK) after 67 days, Kyle’s not as bad and was given laser surgery 2 weeks later.

Christmas in SCBU can feel like a lonely place and not something that you look forward to.  All you want is for your babies to be at home with you, but you know the best place for them is in hospital.

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However, getting involved is important.  The nurses and doctors painted and decorated the unit in the lead-up to Christmas and we joined in, painting a reindeer and a present.  We bought the boys their first advent calendars to put beside their cots and we spent Christmas Eve on the ward and waited until after midnight to ensure we were there at the strike of Christmas Day.  The boys had festive blankets and Xmas babygrows (although Jake couldn’t wear his as he wasn’t well enough). That’s another story, Jake going for his reversal of his stoma! Santa even arrived at SCBU and all of the babies received stockings and presents.

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Just before Christmas we paid a visit to family in Cumbria, delivering presents (the first time we had been back since the boys had been born).  It was difficult travelling so far from the hospital, worrying in case anything happened to the boys.  As it happened, is was us that we needed to worry about, as we got stuck in floods and had to travel a long way round to get back.  We just had to visit the hospital on the way back though, even though it was around 1am when we made it.

So Jake and his stoma reversal just before Christmas… This had to be done earlier than planned as at this point we were struggling with his weight and his skin had started to break down from all the leaks of the bags.

Following the operation he was re-ventilated and back in the intensive care area. Something that me and Nic feared as Jake had needed steroids to come off the ventilator originally which have their own risks. It felt like a big backward step being back in the “Red” area after progressing round onto the ‘’Blue’’ area and Kyle been a ‘’Green’’ baby, but we needed that stoma reversed as he wasn’t growing.  They were rocky days over Christmas as it looked like the reversal hadn’t worked and his scar was leaking. Jake was back on the morphine again keeping him pain free, we feared he would have to be rushed back to theatre while his surgeon was on holiday. But eventually things started to pick up and on New Years’ Eve he was out of the incubator and into a babytherm, a heated cot – and yes DRESSED!

After 108 days in hospital, on 8th January 2014, we took the first true step towards bringing a baby home.  We got to spend the night alone with Kyle in 1 of the hospital ‘flats’, rooms on the ward dedicated for parents of premature babies getting ready to face the big wide world.

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We had to get used to changing his oxygen cannulas on our own, bathe him and finally look after him like we should have been able to do all those weeks ago. Knowing that we were on our own with Kyle was scary, but helped  knowing the nurses were just outside if we needed anything.  And Jake was just round the corner too!  2 days later and the time came that we’d been waiting for.  Most parents get to take their babies home within a day or 2 of them being born; for parents of premature babies this sadly isn’t the case.  Therefore, to finally get the chance to leave the hospital with a baby is such an emotional time and tears flowed.  Sad that Jake wasn’t quite ready to join us, but overwhelming knowing we had Kyle with us and he was allowed to leave!

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Kyle visited his brother in hospital every day and the nurses kept a cot handy for him to use.  The boys regularly had “twin time”, sharing a cot and getting close to each other.  To see them together was a magical experience.  Jake’s scar healed and stopped leaking, he started putting weight on and medicine requirements dropped pretty quickly, as if he knew his brother had gone home.  Things progressed very quickly after Kyle came home, Jake took to bottle feeding without a problem even missed a few stages and on day 123 it was time to Go!!  23rd January 2014 and Jake left a message for the nurses before he & Kyle were united at home for the first time.

The end of a true rollercoaster ride as predicted, but the start of many adventures for two amazing boys who defied the odds to survive and thrive.  As I complete this story (it’s taken a few months), Jake has just come off oxygen completely, rounding off our SCBU journey nicely.  We will be back on the unit at Christmas to take in chocolates for the nurses and snacks for the parents who find themselves in the same position we did last year.  The fact that I am able to still know the details of our journey this far on is thanks to Nic keeping a diary.  A very personal diary, detailing not only practical things like weight gain and oxygen requirements, but also the emotions we experienced as we went from hour to hour, day to day, week to week.  A diary that we almost lost nearly 80 days in, but that’s another story…

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With thanks to Colin French for sharing his story.

If you have a story you’d like to share, please contact Catriona at The Smallest Things – smallestthings@yahoo.com

How NICU Mums Are Chosen

NICU mums are tough: We may not feel like we are tough, indeed we often feel like we’re only just holding on, as if we could slip at any moment. As preemie parents we all need support, of that I am certain, but within us there is a strength, perhaps found in the love and courage of our little ones.

Even years later, I find myself digging deep to find that strength. When I comfort my youngest as he coughs a cough I’ve heard too many time before. A sound that fills me with dread and sets my heart racing – will we be going to hospital tonight?

I don’t believe I was ‘chosen’ to be a preemie mum, it’s just one of those things. But when times get tough and I struggle to find the strength I remember the poem by Erma Bombeck….

How Preemie Moms Are Chosen
by Erma Bombeck

Did you ever wonder how the mothers of premature babies are chosen?

Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth, selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger.

”Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew.
Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia.
Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint…give her Gerard. He’s used to profanity.”

Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. “Give her a preemie.”

The angel is curious. “Why this one, God? She’s so happy.”

“Exactly,” smiles God. “Could I give a premature baby a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel.”

“But does she have the patience?” asks the angel.

“I don’t want her to have too much patience, or she’ll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she’ll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I’m going to give her has a world of its own. She has to make it live in her world, and that’s not going to be easy.”

“But Lord, I don’t think she even believes in you.”

God smiles. “No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect She has just the right amount of selfishness.”

The angel gasps, “Selfishness?! Is that a virtue?”

God nods. “If she can’t separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn’t know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see— ignorance, cruelty, prejudice— and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side.”

“And what about her Patron Saint?” asks the angel, his pen poised in the air.

God smiles. “A mirror will suffice.”

November is World Prematurity Month. Please share to raise awareness. A journey through neonatal care lasts long after bringing your baby home 💜

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World Prematurity Month – November 2016

World Prematurity Month, a time for charities, health professionals, families and organisations around the world to come together to raise awareness of the 15 million babies born premature each year.

For me, a mother of two small boys born too soon, World Prematurity Month is an opportunity to reflect upon and highlight the realities of neonatal intensive care; a chance to shine a light on a hidden world and a journey that lasts long after bringing your baby home from hospital.

As expectant parents you make plans, you allow yourself to dream and imagine.. the first hold, the first baby grown, the first feed…. but for parents of premature babies all plans and dreams are shattered as the trauma of neonatal intensive care kicks in. You don’t recognise the world around you find yourself grieving for a baby take from you too soon and placed within the protective walls of an incubator – “A womb with a view” as a friend once said.

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On leaving neonatal care, full of conflicting emotions, you think that your NICU time is done… only there are new challenges to face.

Incubators, life support machines and monitors are behind you, but the memories and worries last. One day you feel brave enough to leave the house. You might visit a mum and baby group – and that’s when then it comes, the dreaded question…

“How old is your baby”?

I know I’m not alone in rounding down my baby’s age and even then I would see the quizzical. I would tell them that my baby was 6 months old, although developing according to his corrected age he looked and acted like a 3 month old.  Next comes the dilemma; either explain that he was born premature and risk being asked often insensitive and upsetting questions or endure the inevitable developmental comparisons. I didn’t like the feeling I was making excuses for my baby – ‘he’s six months old, but really he’s only three months’ I would hear myself saying.

With the benefit of hindsight (and a bit of preemie mum strength), I might now tell those mums that my baby hadn’t quite mastered sitting independently yet, but what he had mastered in those six months was to teach himself to breath, to learn to co-ordinate sucking and swallowing, to regulate his own heartrate and that he trebled his birth weight – pretty impressive milestones I would say!

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Unless you’ve had a baby in neonatal care, or a close relative in that position, you have no reason to know about life in NICU, so I tried to brushed remarks like ‘I could never have left my baby alone in hospital’ or ‘is he normal now?’ aside, but they hurt and I felt alone.

Not only was it the mum and baby groups I began to avoid though, community health professionals, who I thought would be there to support me, also seemed to lack awareness. I lost count of the number of times I was asked if he was smiling yet. Each time I gave the same response – ‘he hasn’t reached his due date yet’! I was forever asking that his weight be plotted according to his corrected age and the six week check was laughable. I felt like putting a big sticker on the front of his read book saying “remember I’m a premature baby!” (Which is why, years later I developed the “Preemie Proud” Red Book stickers!)

I launched The Smallest Things blog two years ago, writing about my own experiences to raise awareness of premature birth and the challenges faced by families following neonatal care. This World Prematurity Month I will continue to write, as well as sharing guest blogs, about a journey that does not end at the hospital doors.

Raising Awareness really does help to make the Smallest Things matter – even if only to help with the dreaded “how old is your baby?” question!

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Don’t forget to follow The Smallest Things on our Facebook Page for all the latest stories and news for World Prematurity Month!

 

My Life as a NICU Mummy

Guest Post by Vicky Jackson, for World Prematurity Month 2016
I remember the day like it was yesterday. I got into bed at 2350, and I couldn’t actually believe this was happening, my waters had broke. I was 32 weeks pregnant.
I went into auto pilot, called the hospital and they said to come in ASAP. My husband and I ran around packing everything we thought we would need including size 2 nappies and car seat (we laugh about this now, not expecting to go hunting around Mothercare in the weeks to come for micro nappies).
On route to the hospital I remember googling about having a baby at 32 weeks and starting to panic. I felt like I had let everyone down especially my baby. I still do blame myself for my little boy arriving so soon. ‘Why couldn’t I carry till full term? I feel guilty he had to spend the first 3 weeks of his life in hospital when he should have been in my womb or at home with me.
When we got to the hospital I wasn’t having any contractions so they said they would give me a steroid injection now and one 12hrs later to help babies lungs mature. Boy did that hurt! And there was a possibility my waters would refill and I could be discharged home the next day, being monitored for the rest of my pregnancy. This made me a lot calmer.
But by 2pm it was another story. My contractions had started!
4pm came and it was time to push, I was scared ‘was my baby going to be ok?’ I had 10 doctors and nurses in the room with me to help my baby when he was born.

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1825 on Mother’s Day, Ethan was born at 4lbs 3, a good size for a 32 weeker. When I heard him cry it was the most amazing feeling ever, he is a fighter I just knew it.  They wrapped my baby up, I had just a quick glance and touch, then he was whisked off in an incubator. Daddy went with him. That was the hardest hour of my life as I couldn’t be with or see my baby.
After an hour I was able to go see my gorgeous boy. I was numb when I saw him, he had wires coming out of him and the beeps from the machines were so loud. Can he hear that? Will he be able to sleep with all that noise? All these thoughts and questions taking over my mind, I felt like I was in a bubble! All I wanted to do was pick him up, run and take him home! I felt lost and empty, my arms ached, I just wanted to hold my baby.
That next evening I was discharged.Leaving the hospital without your baby is the most unnatural thing to ever go through. It felt so wrong and so unbelievably painful. Every day I would get up early and get to the hospital as soon as I could. I would stay there all day.
My life as a NICU mummy was another world, in which I heard the same words daily – Hiflow, Loflow, long line, picline, CPAP, mummy have you expressed today? Making sure you had enough micro nappies,  endless trips to the expressing room,
washing your hands constantly until they were red raw, and wishing the consultant would say today’s the day you’re rooming in.
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Hours passing by I would sit there just looking at our strong gorgeous boy reading to him, singing to him, longing to hold him.  I never thought the first time I would hold my baby I’d be fighting the millions of wires, but that just became my life and the more I was getting Ethan in and out of his incubator the more I was becoming a pro!
We moved up to the ‘Nursery’ section in NICU after day 3 and the nurses like you to do your babies care while you’re there this includes nappy changes, mouth/eye care, temperature and feeds, getting you ready for going home.
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Our son was getting stronger and bigger by the day and eventually his tube came out and I could breastfeed him. He took to it like a pro. We roomed in for 2 days and he did amazing so they said we could go home. Those were the words we had longed for since the day he was born, but I was so scared to take him home. I even asked if I could take one of the machines with us and even looked at how much they were, those beeps were my life for 3 weeks.  Going home was the most amazing feeling ever!
Our son is doing amazing and is now 7 1/2 months and over 20lbs! He is a joy to be around and is meeting all expectations, we are so overly proud of him. I have met some amazing mummies from NICU and I know we will be life time friends as we have one thing in common.
Our sons are NICU graduates!
If you have a story to share like Vicky, please get in touch with Catriona e. smallestthings@yahoo.com

My day as a NICU Mummy

Guest post by Becca Hilton, Mum of Max, as Part of World Prematurity Month 2016

Waking up from what feels like a continuous bad dream, the house is filled with silence yet I have a crib next to my bed and bottles on the side.

I switch on the television for some company and begin to express milk ready to take with me to the hospital. Doing this brings me some sort of comfort and helps me to feel closer to my son.

I arrive at the hospital, my tummy fills with butterflies and I cannot race quickly enough to the door. Lovely nurses buzz me in and welcome me with a smile and a chirpy, “hello mummy”! My heart races as I walk over to him, so perfect laying there calm but with a maze of wires surrounding him. I gaze over at his chart to check his weight and to see which nurse will be caring for him today. I wash my hands and warm them up ready to let my son know that I am there.

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I stroke his ear and watch a small smirk raise from the side of his mouth, he knows his mummy is with him. The nurses always encourage me to be ‘hands on’ with him and help do the baby duties whilst I am there. This makes me feel so happy; I feel like I am finally bonding with him, I now feel like his mummy.

First things first its temperature check time, then nappy change (I can never cover him in time and he wees all over himself ha-ha, typical boy!) As I change his nappy, rearranging the wires around him I can’t help but think how delicate hi is and it’s amazing that something so small can be so strong and fight so hard, a true hero.

Sounds of beeps fill the room and alarms flash and glow bright, what a surreal situation, I can’t believe I’m here. I look around and see familiar faces, some of joy and some of heartache, who would have known that some of them have become friends for life and we share a bond like not many people do.

It’s feed time! I get excited at the thought of helping. At this point max is too small to be bottle or breast fed so he is fed through a tube. I watch the milk slowly go down as I hold the syringe, he lays there so peaceful, oblivious to the chaos around him, my little sleeping beauty.

How exciting, it’s time for Max’s first bath! I’m giddy with excitement. I start to undress Max and the nurse wraps him up in his towel, its hair wash time first. He wriggles as the water drips down the side of his face. We dry his hair and lower him into the water; being careful to keep the wires over the side of the bath. Max kicks his legs out and makes a small slash, tears fill my eyes, I couldn’t feel more proud to be his mum. I wrap the towel around him and embrace him in my arms, at this point I don’t want to let him go.

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All cosy and snug, he keeps warm in his little nest that’s in the incubator. He stretches his legs out and lets out a little sigh and a yawn, he looks so content. I sit back and look around and think what an amazing place this actually is. If it wasn’t for the love, care and support that we have received as a family I don’t know what we would do.

Looking at the clock, it’s nearly time to say goodbye, dread fills my entire being. One last cuddle, I smell his hair and stroke his cheek and whisper I love you. I put him back and say god bless and goodbye, mummy will see you in the morning!

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As I walk to the carpark to be picked up I feel sad and withdrawn, but this is normal right? I don’t know any different. But with reassurance from my husband he reminds me that when the time is right he will be home and he’s in the best place for now.

Early night for me, dreaming of what tomorrow will bring? We will have to wait and see as it’s all a mystery, a day in the life of a NICU mummy. No two days are the same, there may be ups and downs, but they are all part of your journey – be proud! I know I am.

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If you’d like to share a story to raise awareness through World Prematurity Month, please email Catriona at smallestthings@yahoo.com

MPs back extended leave for parents of premature babies

Yesterday, Steve Reed MP introduced a bill to parliament, calling for extended parental leave for mothers and fathers of premature babies.

The bill, which has gained cross party support, is now scheduled to be debated on 16 December 2016.

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You can watch again, as Steve Reed MP introduces the #PrematurityBill here.

The campaign is beginning to get the publicity it needs!

Born too soon, mothers of premature babies spend weeks or months of their maternity leave visiting tiny and often critically ill babies in hospital. Steve said;

“Having a premature baby is one of the most traumatic experiences that any parent can go through. Instead of bringing home the healthy baby they had longed for, their tiny baby is put inside an incubator, fighting for its life, surrounded by tubes, wires and bleeping monitors. Instead of holding their baby close, these parents can only watch as their baby struggles to breathe, dependent on life support and intensive care.”

More than 110, 000 people have now signed the petition to extend leave for families of premature babies and the campaign has been receiving high profile media attention.

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Is change is possible?

YES, and the precedent has already been set. New Zealand currently offers extended leave, as well as other European countries such as Finland, Iceland and Croatia.

Will change happen?

YES!  With the support of the public and cross party parliamentary support for the bill, change can happen!

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A Fathers Journey Through Neonatal Care

Guest Blog…

It all started on a Monday morning when myself and my wife Janine woke up for work at 5am. Janine’s face was all swollen up. We called her mum who is an ex nurse and got her out of bed to check her over. I was told to go to work and they would let me know what was happening. Janine went to hospital with her mum and after a check up the doctors suspected it was pre-eclampsia. I was called home from work and went straight to hospital.
We had never heard of this condition before, but Janine had been saying she kept swelling up and was just told it was due to being pregnant. At the hospital the doctors sat us down and explained what pre-eclampsia was and that the only way to cure it was to deliver the baby, although they would try to keep the baby inside the womb as long as possible.
“This was a massive shock. How can a baby at 27 weeks survive? We were so scared.”
The company I work for were so supportive and gave me time off to be with my wife. Over the next few days they monitored Janine’s blood pressure every hour. When Thursday came they did a scan in the afternoon and unbeknownst to us our baby wasn’t growing and was the size of a 25 week old baby. Again they sat us down and explained Janine had to give birth within the next 2 hours.The doctors also had to make us aware that our baby may not survive, and if it did it would be seriously ill and may have lifelong disabilities.
At the time it was all a blur and very upsetting, but to save my wife’s life this had to happen. The hospital explained step-by-step everything that would happen and by 7pm that night Janine gave birth to Thomas James Meyers weighing 1lb 12 oz.
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He was immediately taken away from us as expected and the medical team worked to keep him alive. At the time we were so happy that he had survived so far. I got to have a quick glance and it scared the life out of me with how small he was.
He was rushed straight up to NICU and once my wife had recovered enough we went up to see him. I knew nothing about premature babies but my wife has a prem niece so she had a bit of an understanding. All the beeps and monitors and wires on our tiny baby was too much to take in and I just cried.
Thomas stayed in Barnsley for 3 days and his condition was getting worse. He was ventilated, had a bleed on the brain and amongst other things his heart was in a bad way too. We were told that he needed to be moved to specialist hospital once a bed became available. He was eventually taken to Hull hospital where he stayed for a month. We would have traveled anywhere as long as Thomas was going to be ok.
I remember walking down the corridor at Hull with a lead nurse and saying to her “he’s really tiny, you don’t understand how small he is”. She turned round and gave me a reassuring smile – ‘We have smaller here love’. When we got into the red room I was bowled over by all these seriously ill babies. I was scared stiff. In a world of words like CPAP, BIPAP, Hi flow, Low flow, long lines, oscillator and loads of other terms.
Thomas was stabalised and then all the doctors and nurses involved in his care had a meeting around his incubator. They discussed a plan for the next 48 hours in which we were allowed to join in, there was no holding back on anything. We were told everything in detail, everything that was wrong with our son and I was shocked by how truthful they were. At the time it was all a blur. Janine was still poorly after having a c-section and discharging herself to be with Thomas. We were given a room to stay in and I called my boss to explain what had happened. He told me not to worry about work and to just stay with my family as long as I needed to. I am so fortunate to have had such an  understanding boss at the time.
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As we settled in, we were shown how to look after Thomas. We had never touched him before this point as we were too scared. This all changed in Hull as they showed us how do do his cares, which involved mouth care, nappy changing and everything else. I remember the first time I touched him I was so scared I might hurt him. He was still ventilated.
Whilst in Hull I kept a diary and I was also in charge of labeling bottles of milk, sterilising etc. It gave me something to do as sometimes the fathers felt a bit left out. We also met and spoke to other parents and took comfort in other peoples stories and shared their ups and downs. After a week the good news was that the bleed on the brain had gone, but his main issue was now the PDA valve in his heart and getting him off ventilation. The consultant spoke about trying steroids to help make his lungs grow in order to take him off the ventilator and onto CPAP; but complications could be risk of cerebral palsy.
We gave consent, they knew best and we both cried again.
“After a while it started to work and Thomas was put first onto BIPAP and then CPAP. He was also gaining weight with mums milk!”
After a couple of weeks I felt like I could return to work and travel to Doncaster from Hull everyday. The morning of my first day back I called the ward to see how Thomas was. He had a rough night but I was reassured that he was going to be ok. I went on to work. I’m a transport supervisor for a very busy worldwide company. I sat at my desk and couldn’t think straight, all I kept thinking about was my son and wife. My colleagues told me to leave work but I waited for my boss to call to check how everything was with our deliveries. When he did I went outside and told him how I felt. I was upset, I couldn’t think straight and cried again. He told me to leave work and to go back to be with my family. ‘Scott take as much time off as you need on full pay’ he said. What more could you ask for in a boss? I went straight back to Hull and felt much better when I arrived. Thomas had picked up a bit too.
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After a month in Hull, 12 blood transfusions and hitting a weight of 2lb Thomas was moved back to Hull. It was again upsetting leaving Hull as we felt so close to everyone, They had been our family for a month. We were told Thomas still had chronic lung disease. His heart valve had closed which was great news but still had issues with breathing.
When we arrived back at Barnsley and spent another 3 and a half months there. I went back to work again and was fine as Thomas was improving.
“After a total of 4 and a half months in hospital Thomas was finally discharged.
He was still tiny and was going home on oxygen, but he was coming home.”

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Since he has been home we have worked with the hospital to promote the Tiny hearts campaign for a new special care unit and have raised £5,000 on a sold out charity event!. We were also involved in the World Prematurity Day last year and have done 2 television news interviews!  I also turned up dressed as Santa on Christmas day to surprise the nurses. Thomas was a mini santa and had presents for all the hardworking nurses.
From time-to-time we go up to Barnsley SCBU to offer support to other parents on their journey now; as there is nobody better to understand than a parent who has lived through it.
Thomas is 18 months old now (15 months corrected), weighing 14 kg! After meeting with his doctor last week it is incredible how much he has progressed. He learnt to walk a few weeks ago!  He is hitting all his milestones and at present is not showing any sign of disabilities. We hope this will be remain the case.
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“As Thomas’ father I am so proud of how he has developed and am forever grateful for what the NHS has done for us.”
Thomas arriving early has made me a far stronger person than I was and now I like to get involved as much as possible with helping the hospital.
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With special thanks to Scott for sharing his story as he journeyed through neonatal care.

If you’d like to share your story, please contact Catriona at e. smallestthings@yahoo.com