Friday the 27th of May 2022, I went into hospital with reduced movements and pain in my lower tummy, after spending most of the day being monitored, I was told my baby was fine,
and I could go home.
Once home the pain didn’t subside, I became uncomfortable and it continued throughout the evening and night.
After speaking to my midwife, the following morning she advised I go back up to Heartlands Hospital to be assessed again, once there I was put back on the monitors.
It was at this time I was told I was in labour; the machine was picking up contractions.
I was immediately given a steroid injection and told this was to help protect my baby’s lungs as I was only 34 weeks pregnant, the doctor informed me of the risks of my baby being born premature.
This is when reality started to hit for me, the contractions had started to intensify and with the contractions my baby’s heart rate was dipping.
After examining me the doctor explained that I was suffering from a uterine rupture, the buzzer was pressed and before I knew it, they were preparing me for surgery,
All I could think about was my little girl; would she be, ok? she’s only going to be 6 weeks early, surely her lungs and everything are developed?
I was telling myself she would be fine but the way the doctors were all rushing around me had started to make me think otherwise.
I was petrified I phoned my partner as they were wheeling me into surgery, screaming for him to come quickly, as it all happened so fast, begging the surgical team not to start before he had arrived but my health was deteriorating so they had to act fast.
Everything was such a blur from that moment on, my little girl, Suraiya was born at 15:58, on the 28th May, six weeks premature.
I remember the whole room falling silent, wondering why she wasn’t crying, is she ok? the panic started to kick in, a nurse tried to reassure me “the doctors are doing their best right now, your baby needs some help with her breathing but I promise we’ll keep you updated, right now we need to take her to the neonatal unit”
I lay there on the theatre table feeling numb. Not knowing whether my baby girl was alive all I could think about was the quick glimpse of her beautiful little face and then myself being taken upstairs to the ward empty handed.
Seeing all the mothers cradle their crying new-born’s whilst I was yearning for mine has got to be without a doubt the most soul destroying feeling I’ve ever experienced.
At this point I had to be on complete bed rest and monitored for 12 hours due to the complications of the rupture as well as having an emergency section, so all that time all I had was a photo, a photo that shattered my heart, there were so many tubes and wires all over my baby and my mind just couldn’t take it all in.
Going into the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit for the first time will be a memory that will haunt me forever, so many precious tiny babies in incubator’s fighting for their lives in front of your very eyes, side by side to your own little warrior.
It’s a world no parent is ever prepared for, no matter what any doctor or nurse says to you beforehand, I was traumatised.
I found it so difficult to find balance in wanting to be with my baby every waking minute to receiving treatment and pain relief for myself as you had to be on the ward for that.
From the moment I woke up, the first thing I could think about was using all my strength to get downstairs to my baby in the NICU, so I was missing meals and pain relief just to be by her side every second.
Suraiya spent the first week of her life on the intensive care unit in critical care, she was on seven litres of oxygen, just 1 down from high flow.
The first week was very touch and go, I was beside myself with worry but the nurses were reassuring me that she was doing as well as she could, I’d hold her little hand through the incubator and stroke her little face, it was all that kept me going.
Them first few days was the hardest as I didn’t really feel like a “mom” as bad as that sounds as I didn’t have the initial skin to skin with her, it felt like I didn’t have chance to start that bonding that normal new mums do, instead I had to sit back and watch the nurses carefully change her little nappy through the incubator.
I remember feeling useless and distressed as I could barely even walk, all that kept running through my mind was my baby being alone in that incubator, the nurses were absolutely AMAZING caring for my daughter but it still didn’t take away the feeling of helplessness.
I would often over hear them arguing over who gets to look after her care for the day, they’d say no baby jones is mine, although funny at the time it also reassured myself, she was well cared for when I wasn’t around.
On day three we finally got to hold her, I remember being so scared because of all the wires but the excitement of holding her for the first time made those worry’s melt away, as soon as she was in my arms it all came naturally, the love I had for this baby was as I imagined and more.
Each day, doctors and nurses would try and lower the dose of oxygen just to see how she would cope and we’d get our hopes up and then she’d have a bad day and we’d be back to square one again.
A doctor would come round with his team every morning and assess my daughter’s health, it was heart breaking hearing the words “no changes” we’ll come back and see how she is tomorrow; each day was such a blur, I remember clock watching and just telling myself “She’ll be home tomorrow”.
My days were spent sat by her bedside in floods of tears not knowing anything and thinking the worst, if I never had my partner with me most of the time I’m not sure how I would of gotten through them days; as it can be a very lonely scary place to be, I had terrible baby blues, so was just crying constantly,
My section scar had split as I wasn’t resting because of wanting to be by her side every waking moment, I was eight days post recovery and had to take myself to the maternity unit to be checked over which resulted in them giving me a course of antibiotics for a developing infection. It was all getting to much.
But by day eight Suraiya was doing better, she was able to maintain her own body temperature, which meant she was put into her own little cot instead of the incubator, she’d finished her antibiotics and her blood markers were all ok.
It felt like she had started to grow and thrive so the only thing that was stopping her from coming home was the oxygen.
She was moved into the special care ward and out of critical care (one step closer to coming home we was told as she didn’t require a 1 to 1 level of care anymore) we were over the moon our little girl was getting there, her little body was starting to cope with only four litres of oxygen support instead of the seven she was previously on, each day they lowered the dose and each day she would surprise us.
Some days were better than most and others, Suraiya had times where she spent a full night breathing by herself but then by 7 am I’d turn up to the hospital in floods of tears to see she had tired herself out and was back on full support.
The days feel like weeks in the NICU and it’s like time stops, all you can think about is getting to walk out them hospital doors with your baby with you,
Some days felt like one step towards the doors and then eight steps backwards, when you feel like getting home with your baby is close to becoming a reality all you can do is pray.
By day thirteen her consultant came round like any other day with his team and stated that if she was still requiring this amount of oxygen by the Monday, two days later, they would possibly start thinking along the lines of her having lung disease,
This destroyed us, right then all we could think about was being frightened of bringing her home on oxygen as that was the was outcome her doctors were talking about.
After a heart breaking nineteen days of our little warrior depending on oxygen and not being able to breath without it, she FINALLY came home without any oxygen support needed.
Suraiya has just turned a year old, after over thirty plus hospital admissions, over twenty upper respiratory infections resulting in her requiring oxygen again, battling Kawasaki disease on top of bronchitis almost every single month of her life, she never loses her smile, forever our happy little rai of sunshine!
My advice to any new parents going through this for the first-time would be REST, as much as you can and don’t overdo it, I know that sounds so stupid because I myself wanted to be by my baby’s bedside every waking moment, but I did too much after major surgery myself and never rested, almost destroyed my mental health too as I was traumatised.
TALK to someone about how your feeling and don't bottle it up. Get as much sleep at night as you can as your baby needs you to be fit and strong for them in order to get better.
I wish you and your baby’s all the best, when the days feel hard and lonely remember; you’ve got this!!
Kayliee
Mummy to Suraiya
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