Our journey from pregnancy to early birth
The first 11 weeks of my pregnancy were relatively uneventful, no morning sickness, which I was quite pleased about having been really sick with my other two.
Week 12 - I began to bleed, I rang the emergency Doctor who told me to take paracetamol for the pain and to go lie down and wait to miscarry. I tried explaining to the Doctor that I wasn't in any pain, but he just insisted I take paracetamol.
On the Monday I went to see my own GP, who referred me to the hospital for a scan. I was still bleeding but not in any pain; He signed me off work for 2 weeks, and advised I go and rest as much as possible. Which is easier said than done with 2 children, one of whom was only 18 months old.
When we arrived at the hospital a short time later, we went up to Ward 7, there we were shown into a room and a scan was done. We were told that baby was fine, the heart was still beating, and baby seemed to be doing OK. Little did I know at this point, that this ward was going to become my home for almost 6 weeks!
A few days of rest and the bleeding stopped, all seemed to be going OK, so after the two weeks off work I went back. I managed to get through most of the first day, and around 5pm as I was leaving I started to bleed again. I mentioned this to my manager, she was concerned about me, and suggested that I go to the local hospital. I just wanted to get home, so insisting that I would be fine, I travelled the 40 miles home sitting on a plastic bag!!
When I got home, it was back to the hospital again, at this point I was 14 weeks pregnant, I saw a Dr who examined me and said that there was no sign of Baby wanting to deliver. But after I'd been examined I started to bleed really heavily and he admitted me. I'd spend a few days in hospital, the bleeding would stop and they'd send me home, a few days at home I'd start bleeding again.
This went on for almost 6 weeks, doing 4 or 5 days in hospital and then 3 or 4 home, then back to the hospital. During one period in hospital I had another scan & was advised that it looked as if I had a Complete Placenta Previa. This is where the placenta attaches at the bottom of the womb, and grows over the exit!! There are varying degrees of this, and there is every chance that the placenta will move, as the pregnancy progresses.
When I got to 20 weeks pregnant, we went for another scan, because they wanted to confirm the Placenta Previa, I had to drink large amounts of fluid, this meant my bladder was full and I started to bleed heavily, much to the horror of the receptionist, who insisted I see a Dr. When the Doctor came down she asked if I was OK, and I said I was, I just wanted to go home. The continuing bleeding had almost become normal by this point and I just accepted it as part and parcel of the pregnancy.
The scan had confirmed that I had a Complete Placenta Previa, and unfortunately for me, I got a bleeder too.
Back at home that evening I started to pass blood clots, Martin called an ambulance & I was taken to the local Emergency room - I was then admitted to the Maternity Ward, with no chance of going home until I delivered I was 20 weeks pregnant and facing another 20 weeks in hospital, having done the best part of 6 weeks in hospital already. I was fed up!!!
The Maternity Ward
I had my own room in the Maternity ward, it had a en-suite toilet, and that was as far as I was allowed!!!
The Doctors explained that I had a complete Placenta Previa, and that it was me that was bleeding, not actually the baby, that I would have to wear a cannula permanently, (I still have the scars from those cannula) just in case I needed to go to theatre in a hurry. Unless the placenta moved in the next 10 weeks I would have to have a Caesarean Section, which would be done under a general anaesthetic.
They would keep an eye on my iron levels to make sure I didn't become anaemic from all the blood loss. From that point on there would be no more internal examinations!! Yipee!! BUT there was nothing they could do for the baby should they need to deliver before I got to 24 weeks, was baby born any earlier then he would be allowed to die. So 24 weeks became the "aim for point" I would count the days off, just to get to 24 weeks, so at least my baby would have a chance.
Martin brought me a T.V. in from home, so I could watch the television, but I remember sleeping a lot, watching TV and reading. After a week in, they stopped me from having baths and showers, after turning the bath water red, it was decided that bathing was not a good idea!! I was only allowed to wash. I felt too ill to care, but I must have stunk!!
I saw very little of anyone, Martin would get up when he could, but as he works shifts and having two others at home to care for to, he only managed 1 maybe 2 visits a day. I missed him, and I missed them. Friends would come up when they could, but they had busy lives, mine seemed to have stopped.
It was about this point that the pain started, I started having what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions, but over a period of time these became increasingly painful, and my stomach would tighten into a ball the size of a small football. I was having trouble sleeping, and getting comfortable, I'd started to develop pressure sores from laying in the same position (I'd found if I laid on my left side the bleeding eased) I remember saying to the Registrar one morning that I'd had enough, couldn't they just do a section and stick the baby in an incubator, and let it get on with it............she looked at me and said, "The longer that baby stays in there the better."
Oh how I wish she'd followed that through with what happens when a baby is born so early.
I turned 24 weeks, I awoke from a sleep in pain, the pain came and went in waves, my stomach had tightened up to small football shape again, and I was losing blood and passing clot after clot. I was transferred down to the Delivery Suite in a hurry, the Registrar and SHO I saw there were lovely, and managed to hide their concern well! Apparently there was frantic action going on behind the scenes to get me transferred out of there ASAP, if not sooner!!!
The Bigger Hospital
We were moved, lump and all to a hospital not too far from where we live. This hospital was about 30 miles away, which compared to some isn't that far. But left me even more isolated than before, I was lucky if I saw Martin once a day.
The new hospital was awful, I was put in a ward where the other expectant Mum's came to be monitored, to be honest I don't remember that much about my time in there, except the monitors, the thump, thump of babies heartbeats, and the laughter of the other mum's drifting into my misery and pain................I was so ill, that most of my time was spent sleeping.
There seemed to be a different expectation here, the expectation being that if I wanted to eat I had to go to the dining room, walk from one end of the ward to the other to use the toilet. The strict bed-rest was lifted. To be honest I was too ill to get off the bed, I don't recall eating much while I was there, maybe one meal a day in the evening, I slept and bled and was pretty much left to get on with it. I guess I wasn't a pretty sight really!
A couple of days after I got there, I was taken for a scan, where we were told that they thought the baby was about 2lb, and that it was definitely a complete placenta previa, which would mean a C-Section. Afterwards we were taken to visit the NICU.
I remember being taken round there, looking at all these small babies in their incubators - being totally convinced that this was a waste of time. My baby was quite safe where he was, after all there was no way he could possibly get out by himself, the only way out was via a C-Section. I remember looking at one baby and Martin pointing out that he only weighed 2lbs, and that was what our baby was like now. The Nurse said yes he weighed 2lbs at birth, but he's also 3 months old now.
It still didn't sink into my little bubble of security.
That afternoon I got a visit from a Doctor, she sat with me and explained that because of the Placenta Previa I would have to have a C-Section, she explained the procedure and what could happen - she requested I sign all the forms for surgery. By the time she left I was in pieces..........................
The night of the 25/26th November 1999, I awoke at 2.00am, wet from the back of my neck to ankles. I desperately needed to use the toilet, but didn't feel right, so I buzzed for a Midwife, and I buzzed and I buzzed, after what seemed like forever and probably was , I got up and wandered down the corridor to the toilet, no sign of a midwife anywhere.
I remember being really frightened, and alone. I used the loo and returned to my "room", shortly after getting back into my "room" a midwife appeared. I explained that I was in pain and that I was soaked. She said she would call the Doctor and get me something for the pain, but that she thought I'd wet myself. Despite my insistence that I hadn't, and that I'd just used the loo. She still maintained that I'd lost control of my bladder.
When the Doctor arrived gave me something for the pain and left, an hour later he was back again and I was being transferred down to the Delivery Suite.
The Delivery
When I got into the Delivery Suite I was given Pethadine, attached to a monitor and left again, I slept, I don't remember much, but I do remember the Consultant coming round about 9am, and explaining that they would leave me in the delivery suite until tea-time when I would be transferred back to the ward, providing the bleeding had eased. He looked at the monitor readings and said that they were alright, I wasn't in labour and they contractions weren't doing anything.
I woke again at 12.00 midday and was given some more pethadine, and drifted back off to sleep, when I awoke again at 2pm I was on my own, I rang the bell and when the midwife came I asked if I could have some more pain killers and was told no. I told her I needed a wee, so she went off to get a bed-pan
When she came back with the bed-pan, I was wandering up and down, I was in pain, I had the most horrendous pressure that felt like it was never going to ease. Shortly after this I passed a huge lump and the pressure eased, the bed-pan was exchanged for another one.... I looked at the midwife and said "I want to push"
The reply "You can't" with that my baby slid into the bed-pan. The baby was curled up into a ball in the small end of the bed-pan waving his arm, he was still attached to the umbilical cord, for what seemed like an eternity we all stood there staring at each other, and at him. The midwves in there with me rang the emergency bell, and my little room looked like something out of Casualty, I've never seen so many Dr's & Nurses in one room, the umbilical cord was cut, the baby wrapped in a towel and whisked away.
I was left shaking and being violently ill. I fast turned into a gibbering parrott, repeating the same things over and over again, to the point of almost hysteria.
The Aftermath
Shock is a funny thing, I remember sitting on the bed shaking, no matter how hard I tried I couldn't get warm, despite having eaten nothing I was violently ill, despite all that I remember the feeling of amazement at what had just happened.
almost like I'd seen it, but I didn't believe it.
It was sometime before the midwife came back and let me know that my baby was a boy, and that I would be able to go and visit him soon.
I was still in shock, still shaking and being sick, I'd had a problem delivering what was left of Michael's umbilical cord and placenta, despite having the injections to help my body get rid of it. A Doctor was called and sat on the end of the bed and removed the placenta by wrapping the umbilical cord around his finger and gently pulling. A side of child birth most new mum's don't get to witness and a very surreal experience. When the placenta was delivered instead of being a nice round shape, mine looked more like spagetti, almost as if Michael had shredded it as he dug his way out.
The midwives said they would let Martin know what had happened and that they would contact him....he'd already left so didn't get a message. When Martin arrived at the hospital, with my Mum & Dad, he walked into the room to find a gibbering, hysterical wreck who repeatedly asked him over and over again if he knew!!
We didn't get to go to the NICU to see the baby (who still didn't have a name) for sometime, one of the mum's in the NICU told me later she'd been in there when Michael arrived, and that they had taken a long time getting him going and stabilizing him.
When we did get into there the whole room caved in on me, and all I could see was the wires, monitors, alarms, the vent, nothing on this earth could ever have prepared me for walking into there and seeing my baby surrounded by all this.
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