I woke up on the 19th of April feeling good with the usual pregnancy aches and pains. I was booked into the local doctors for a routine check up that afternoon. I went to the doctors, where she took my blood pressure and a urine sample. She looked worried and asked if I had transport to the hospital. I told her I did; she told me to go straight to the hospital where I was admitted through A&E. After a short wait, I was landed in a wheel chair headed for the maternity ward...
Nurses and doctors ran around me doing tests and traces on my baby. Soon after I was sent for a scan, where I was told my baby was a little small for its gestation. The doctor then came in and told me it would be best if I stayed in the hospital to have some more tests done as he suspected I had pre-clampsia.
On Saturday, they continued to do tests and try to control my bp, but again Tuesday the ticking time bomb had reached its time to explode. I had become very ill and both my baby and I were at risk, so around lunch time, I was brought to the labour ward where my condition kept getting worse. The doctor had came in and told me I was been transferred to another hospital as soon as I was stable enough to travel but as time passes I was getting progressively worse. I had had every hypertension control drug at this stage, so the doctor decide it was best to order an emergency c-section.
The next hour was so surreal: I had doctors left right and center taking off my clothes, removing earrings, inserting and removing iv drips and so on. I was then rushed to theatre where the spinal tab was administered. Within 10mins of being in there, I got a glimpse of my tiny little baby boy been rushed past me, weighing just 2lb 10, but soon after delivery he got transferred to a high risk hospital and I was brought to the intensive care unit, where I spent 2 days with doctors trying to control my condition. On day 2, I had started to go downhill again with my blood pressure going dangerously high again, so it was decided that I'd be given a central line. By day 3, I was moved back to the ward, but developed a high temperature over night and was sent for a chest x-ray as they feared I had a clot in my lung. Thankfully it was nothing and I was given some iv antibiotics and transferred to the same hospital to be with my little boy.
When I saw our little boy, it was so overwhelming. I blamed myself for him being there. I was discharged a few days later; it was so hard leaving our little boy behind, but I knew we had a bumpy ride ahead.
We were 3 hours away from the hospital and relied on public transport, so we decided it would be best to book into a b&b during the week while he was in hospital, hoping he would be transferred back nearer to home, but weeks passes and we couldn't afford the b&b, so we traveled up and down everyday leaving at 10am and returning at 10pm.
We watched our little boy grow stronger everyday. After 5 weeks, his 4lb 5 weight in, he was given a new bed in a cot and week 7 he was moved to another unit: one step closer to home. He fought a long battle, but on the 29th of june, 3 days before his due date, we got to take our little boy home weighting 5lb 10 oz.
After overcoming infections and feeding problems, we were delighted to have our happy and healthy little boy home.
He is now 6 months and there's not a day goes by that I don't thank god for our little fighter... xx