Acceptance and Realisation

For a very long time after my daughter’s birth I struggled with accepting the fact that no matter what I did differently throughout my pregnancy, there was absolutely nothing I could do to prevent my daughter’s early arrival. I battled within myself blaming myself for the fact that my daughter was lying in an incubator covered with wires and tubes, chastising myself for being a terrible mother whilst deep down I knew it was not true. To the world I was coping remarkably well with this stressful situation but behind closed doors it was tearing me apart.

The first two days of my daughter’s life are a mystery to me. I was told it is as a result of the trauma and stress of the situation. I know that somewhere along the way I went to visit my daughter. I remember my husband feeding me because I did not have the energy to eat on my own. I received visitors and had conversations that I have no recollection of.

The Tuesday came and I was reminded that I hadn’t even come up with a name for my daughter I was convinced that my husband and I would have a name by the end of the evening. I remember going through names on the Internet and one kept coming to mind “Rebecca”. When my husband arrived that evening we went through name options until I suggested Rebecca and he decided to see how the name and surname sounded together and then all three our names together. We agreed on the name and proceeded to proudly let our parents as well as the sister looking after Rebecca know that we had finally chosen a name. That night I would go sleep with her name on my mind.

During my stay in hospital I was so afraid to go visit her in the NICU especially alone. My daughter looked so fragile and helpless I was afraid of breaking down  on tears in this unit filled with strangers. I recall coming into the unit one day and seeing my daughter under uv light. They reassured me not to worry as it was a precautionary measure due to her blood results showing a risk for jaundice. Oddly enough this was one complication I had been prepared for my entire pregnancy.

The day came for me to go home. My mother would be arriving that afternoon with my brother to fetch me and visit Rebecca before we went home. I packed and repacked my bag that day  took a trip to the pharmacy to get meds and did anything I could afraid to go see my daughter alone although my heart ached to see her. When I went I just sat for a little while watching her, recording her and taking photos until the lump in my throat grew too big for me to handle and I escaped to the refuge of my hospital bed again behind drawn curtains. Mercifully my room was just opposite the NICU and my bed right by the door.

When my mom and brother arrived we sat a little in my room before he took my bags down and my mom and I went to visit my daughter. I held onto my mother’s hand so tightly during that visit realisation finally sinking in that I would be going home without my precious angel. I suddenly felt guilty for not spending more time with my daughter while I was still in the hospital.

The first morning home was I woke up realising I would have to wait for my husband and father to come home in order to see my daughter since neither or myself would be able to drive for a few weeks. I was overcome with a desire to see my daughter. Around 9h30 my phone signalled a WhatsApp message. it was from a number that I did not know. upon opening the messages I got a smile on my face. The sister looking after my daughter had sent me two pictures of my daughter with funny captions to describe the poses and I immediately felt myself relax as I read the captions and showed my mother. That seemingly small act meant the world to me and set my mind at ease. u could relax knowing my daughter was doing well and in good hands. At that point the nurse looking after my daughter crept into my heart without understanding the impact that caring gesture had on me emotionally and mentally. I was going to make it through day one.

The time following my discharge was a difficult one. Only myself, my husband and our parents were allowed to visit our daughter. I wanted to spend as much time with her as possible but at the same time I wanted all of them to also spend time with her. I didn’t want to deprive or inconvenience anyone. whenever I visited Rebecca all I wanted to do was just hold her to me and let her know that all would be ok. Her skin was so fragile and to me it seemed like she didn’t have bones. everything made me so afraid for her part. the first few days she had s needle in her foot and I was glad to see it out. I would have done anything to take away her pain.

I remember one night waking up in my mother’s bed with tears streaming down my face not knowing how I got there or why I was crying. All that I knew was that my brother was holding a glass out to me and my mother was telling me to drink. I felt as if I was losing my mind first not being able to remember my time in hospital and now this. I tried to shake it off and told myself that I had no time to start losing it because my daughter needed me. A feat much easier said than done. in the quiet and alone those negative voices and messages plagued me but whenever anyone was around I told myself to keep it together. It was a constant battle within myself that I couldn’t let anyone else know about. pride wouldn’t allow me to

A Turn for the worst bringing us the best blessing

Friday 3 June approached and I was both excited and nervous. I was excited because my mom and I had been planning a weekend away with my female cousins in her side for some time now and the day had finally arrived. I was nervous because I was due to go for my check up that morning before we had to leave and I had been overcome with this sense of foreboding from the day before. I guess that’s why I only got halfway with packing my bag.

My brother and I arrived at my appointment and I was still unable to shake this uneasiness and this voice in my head telling me that I wouldn’t be able to go on the much awaited weekend away.

When I sat down on the bed my gynae took one look at me feet and told me that I should not be walking around because they were so severely swollen. As soon as we started with the ultrasound my worst fears had been confirmed. I was sadly told that, despite all our best efforts, my journey as an expectant mother was drawing to a close. My baby’s heartbeat was irregular and indication that the placenta was no longer working properly. As a result my baby was no longer growing. I was told that I was to go straight over to the hospital. My doctor told me that she wasn’t going to give me much choice because she knows that when it comes to such situations the mothers always say save my child but they would rather save us both.

I couldn’t control my tears. I didn’t even have the strength to phone my husband. Thankfully I hadn’t come alone my brother and doctor phoned both my mother and husband. My mother wanted to stay and cancel the trip but thankfully our doctor advised us that that would not be necessary.

By the time we left her room there was a  porter waiting for me in the waiting area ready to take me to the hospital. It was slowly sinking in. I was numb with fear and heartache. We arrived at the maternity unit and I just couldn’t speak.

When my husband arrived I just remember holding onto him and sobbing like never before. I was overwhelmed with shock. The weekend went by in a blur with constant monitoring of both my blood pressure and my baby’s heartbeat. They wanted to delay delivery for as long as possible to give my baby better odds for survival.

Late on Friday I was visited by a neonatologist who told me about what to expect when baby is born and what would most likely happen with my baby once delivered. I was also met by a young nurse with a bubbling personality who just made me feel more relaxed when she arrived. She gave me a tour of the NICU and told me if I had any questions to just ask her. she would be with us when I went into theatre to care for my precious bundle. That weekend I just hoped and prayed that I would at least make it till Monday so that my parents could also be present for the birth of their first grandchild. 

I was given steroid injections Saturday and Sunday morning to help strengthen baby’s lungs.

Sunday afternoon when my gynae came to check up on me she told me that we could not wait much longer as we had hoped but we would be going into theatre Monday afternoon between 3 and 4. Less than two hours later when the nurses came to check my vitals again my blood pressure was still high, even when I slept. a few minutes later I was told that I couldn’t wait till the afternoon I had to go into theatre first thing in the morning and had to eat at 10 for the last time.

I don’t remember much after that I just remember being met in the theatre by a new neonatologist, and the young nurse of Friday night as well as my gynae and the other medical staff. They struggled for more than half an hour to give me the necessary injections in my spine and were getting ready to get someone else to assist but were finally able to succeed next thing I knew I was lying on the theatre table and my husband was by my side.

I remember the procedure and being told that I had a little girl. I heard someone stating the time as they quickly showed her to me and then whisked her off to the side again. After seeing my daughter things went blank. At 11h06 on 6 June 2016 we welcomed our daughter into the world

Change of course

On Thursday, May 19, I was admitted to hospital for the first time. The day started out like any other ordinary day. I had helped my brother with a night time job the night before but only the start of the shift to help everyone settle before going home and then made the decision to rather stand down for that evening as the team knew what to do. That afternoon my mom and I went for a mini treat and had our hair done. We made a spur of the moment decision to meet my father and husband in Claremont for supper that evening. They worked close to each other so we organised that they meet us for supper.

We enjoyed our time together and just as we were getting the bill and getting ready to leave I was overcome with a severe pain in my right side and then a sudden wave of nausea and unease. I could not understand what was happening but thought it could just be that I ate to much or the fact that something didn’t agree with my pregnancy.

After a while we proceeded to leave the restaurant and when we left the car they asked if I wanted to go to the hospital or not. I was torn between two decisions because I wanted to make sure it was nothing to worry about but I also didn’t want to arrive at the hospital and have nothing wrong. My mom ended up phoning the maternity unit to see what they advised and my husband phoned my gynae as well. I then wanted to go home first incase I needed anything but eventually agreed to go straight to the hospital instead to also set all their minds at ease. We left the one car at my employees place as she stayed not too far and we were advised then also that it was best to go through immediately by her partner, a cardiologist. After I would realise the significance of the way everything worked out that day.

When we arrived at the hospital we went straight to the maternity ward. strangely enough there was a wheelchair at the lifts where our car was parked and my husband and father wanted me to get in. I told them not to be silly.

On arrival at the maternity ward they too contacted my gynae and advised me that she was on her way. My blood pressure was checked and I was connected to a machine to check the foetal heartbeat. My blood pressure was sky high. My doctor was surprised that I actually walked in and I would later learn that the blood pressure reading which they received was stroke level. Had I arrived a minute later there is no telling what would have happened. Thankfully I was in Claremont and not at home when the symptoms occurred. I was admitted to the ICU unit for observations. a routine I would soon become accustomed to.

The following afternoon I was moved to the maternity unit after being visited by my gynae, a foetal specialist and a physician. The severity of my situation was slowly sinking in. I was however optimistic that I would make it through. I was surrounded by wonderful staff at each turn helping to set me at ease and relax.

I spent the weekend in hospital and was just to happy to go home the Tuesday evening. I didn’t stay home long though. late at night on Wednesday, 25 May. I started getting the same symptoms again. My husband went to my father and we checked my blood pressure again and then they phoned my doctor and we’re advised to bring me to the hospital again where she met us. I was admitted once again to ICU. I would stay in hospital until the Monday again. My mother was admitted into hospital for a major operation the Sunday evening after visiting me so the two of us were laying on opposite ends of the same hospital floor that evening. I was glad that I was at least able to see her before she got wheeled off to surgery Monday morning and when she came out of surgery my father and I were able to visit her before I went home not knowing just how busy things would get for us from then on