In 2013 I was pregnant with my second child, and I was delighted to find out that it was a girl, after having a beautiful boy, Kai three years earlier I was getting my pigeon pair. I’d had some minor problems with my first pregnancy with my son being born via caesarean at 38 weeks and being small for gestational age at 2.485kg due to placenta growth restriction. After some blood tests after his birth there was no medical reason as to why I’d had this problem and therefore I went into my second pregnancy with no major concerns except for the fact that my second baby may have to be delivered a little early as my son was.
My premmie journey began on a Thursday I had just completed my last Uni exam for the semester, and I was looking forward to taking some time off. I was also glad to have a couple of months before my baby’s arrival as I was scheduled to take my dad to hospital for cancer surgery the following day. The plan was after his hospital stay, he would recuperate at my house until he was back on his feet then I could do my last preparations for my little ones arrival.
Unfortunately, things didn’t go to plan as I received a phone call from my obstetrician’s secretary asking me to come in which I knew wasn’t good news. In fact, this phone call just broke me to think that something was wrong with my baby as well as not being able to be there for my dad when he was going through so much himself.
My visit confirmed some bad news my baby’s growth was decreasing and she was sitting below the 3rd percentile. There was no doubt I’d be having a premature baby the question was just when. I had my first steroid injection that day, which can speed up a baby’s lung development, and came back in for a scan and second steroid injection the next day. The parting words of one of the midwives that worked with my obstetrician was if I experienced reduced movements go straight to the Women’s Hospital. Low and behold that’s exactly what happened that night so off to the Women’s Hospital I went where I was admitted and would spend the next four days in the antenatal ward where my baby was closely monitored.
There were definitely some roller coaster moments during those four days, I was told there wasn’t a bed available for my baby in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) so I would have to go to Westmead Hospital and my obstetrician wouldn’t be able to deliver. My husband and I had just come to terms with this news when we were told that there wasn’t a bed at Westmead, and I would have to go to Newcastle, roughly 3hours drive from my home. We were shell shocked, how were we supposed to live in Newcastle for months as well as trying to look after our son? Just after we were told this news the doctor got pulled out of the room and he came back in and said, “forget everything I just told you some twins have just been moved out of the NICU so you can stay” I remember looking at him and saying, “I’m going to cry now” and I began sobbing tears of relief.
The relief was short lived though as the next day after some scan results, I was told I was going in for an emergency caesarean immediately due to reduced foetal movements. My poor husband had just arrived to visit me and there was a mad flurry of nurses prepping me, my obstetrician being called in and me getting pumped full of Magnesium as I had agreed to partake in a research study. The Magnesium was very painful, but it may have benefited my unborn baby, so I was willing to do anything.
Chloe was born at 7.44pm at 30 weeks gestation via classical caesarean (a vertical abdominal cut as opposed to horizontal) weighing a tiny 930grams. She was taken to the waiting NICU team in the adjacent room. While I was being stitched back together, I couldn’t see my little girl I could only see my husband I kept looking at him waiting for him to tell me everything was ok. What seemed like a lifetime he finally gave me the thumbs-up it wasn’t until days later that he told me he couldn’t look at me because they were resuscitating her as her little heart had stopped beating. The team wheeled her in for a minute and I got a little glimpse of her, then she was taken away to the NICU with my husband following. Very groggy I was stretchered in to NICU after recovery and I saw my girl with what seemed like a million wires coming out of her tiny body and hooked up to a C-PAP machine (continuous positive airway pressure therapy).
The next few days were very tough I was in a lot of pain after the classical caesarean, my dad was in the next-door hospital recovering from his cancer operation and I couldn’t even hold Chloe due to her having jaundice and being incubated. The nights in Postnatal were the worst hearing babies crying in the halls only reminded me that my little girl wasn’t by my side instead I was waking up to a breast pump. The day that I was discharged from hospital was very bittersweet as I had to leave Chloe behind, but it was the first day that I got to hold her.
We were lucky in a way as Chloe was only in Level 3 (intensive care) for three weeks coming off C-PAP and High Flow (another form of respiratory support) quickly. Our stay in Level 2 was long and trying though Chloe’s breathing was great but her weight gain was slow, and she needed to be incubated for a very long time as well as having to receive two blood transfusions. I longed for her to be in an open cot where I could hold her more than at Kangaroo Care and not have to do her cares (washing and nappy changing) through port holes. Our last stint was done in the Private Hospital where we were originally booked when Chloe was well enough. Our total hospital stay was a long and hard 68 days and bringing Chloe home is still one of the happiest days of my life.
What I learnt on this journey
Below I offer some advice to any parent who may be reading this and going through the NICU experience with either a premature or sick newborn.
Get to know the other parents:
I can say without a doubt the only way my husband and I got through this time was by getting to know the other parents around us. Through this traumatic experience we bonded and became a NICU family which has continued after our premmie babies have come home and will continue long into the future. So, get to know the people around you as they are the only ones who can truly understand your situation and who may also become your lifelong friends.
Look after yourself:
Hindsight and time are a wonderful thing and now that I look back, I can see how terribly I treated myself. At the time my sole focus was on Chloe and her recovery, and I thought it was selfish to think about things like rest or self-care. I mean my daughter was fighting for her life surely I could push through my own pain, fatigue, and trauma? How incredibly wrong I was because if I had listened to my body and allowed myself to rest and recover properly, I would have been an even better Mum when I was with Chloe and to my son, Kai who was only 3 at the time. It’s the old saying “you can’t pour from an empty cup” and my cup was well and truly dry in fact the only time that I actually rested was when I had mastitis!
Physically, look into a Chiropractor, Physiotherapist or Osteopath, you have just been through major abdominal surgery and your body will need help recuperating. I still have ongoing issues to this day because I ignored the pain symptoms I was going through at the time.
Mentally, you have been through the ringer and developing PTSD (posttraumatic stress disorder) and/or postnatal depression is a high possibility. Seeking help through a psychologist, psychiatrist or using the hospital’s counselling service can help you deal with the trauma you have been through. Also, organisations like the Miracle Babies Foundation that deal specifically with premature or sick newborns have some wonderful resources and support functions. Even joining a Facebook group related to premature babies can offer some great (non-medical) advise and support, especially if you live regionally and don’t have a lot of face-to-face contact with people.
Reach out for help:
I admit I’m shocking at asking for help but if there is ever a time for it it’s now. If friends and family offer to help take it! If they don’t offer, ask! Things like cooking meals, babysitting other children, picking up groceries and cleaning are small things that can make a huge difference. Luckily a group of friends ignored my silly replies of saying “I’ll be right” and chipped in for a cleaner for a month which was a god send. My mother-in-law was also wonderful at taking care of my son Kai.
The light at the end of the tunnel:
Chloe is now a beautiful, healthy 7-year-old girl who is constantly making us laugh and is loved very much. I have marvelled at her strength and will be forever grateful to be her Mum.
Dad is also in full remission.
