So its the 7th March 2009 and I am in the delivery suite of Fairfield General Hospital, having reached 26 weeks and 6 days of my pregnancy. I am showing signs of pre eclampsia, and I am scared. My husband settles me in, and at 7am not seeing much action, decides to go home, shower, dress and go to work. I am slightly bemused by this decision, but hey ho. Perhaps I am just being over the top.
Michelle, the midwife has taken bloods and given me a very big pot to wee in, so that my wee can be assessed over the course of the day for protein. I sit quietly just thinking and trying to relax, hoping my blood pressure will come down. The first protein dip has come back. Protein +++. Um yeah. This isn't good is it?
A couple of hours go by and suddenly 4 doctors and a large team of midwives walk in. Crap. They all look worried. Crap. They huddle and a small doctor emerges and quietly explains it is suspected I have severe early onset pre eclampsia, they will have to deliver the baby, hopefully they can hold off. Til early next week.
I hang on to "suspected" as they leave. I am reassured that I am not going mad. I am to be admitted. I leave my delivery suite room and go to antenatal into a four bed ward. Two women are taken down to delivery, the third has her mum with her, who comes and gives me support until my husband arrives.
Dr K, a large, happy looking Indian obstetic consultant comes in. He smiles, calling me Dr Kylie. He has a senior midwife with him who is giving him a run down of the story so far. He has more recent blood results and says I can tip the wee down the toilet. I have severe early onset pre eclampsia. I need a scan to see if the baby is ok. I can feel the baby move like crazy so I am reassured that the baby is, for the moment, alive.
He holds the scan off until my husband arrives. As soon as he comes in we have a kiss and a cuddle and are taken down. It's a Friday lunch time and its busy. Lots of happy expectant parents. My eyes catch the sight of a very scared woman and her husband. We have a cuddle and chat. She is threatening miscarriage and is terrified. We are united by our fear for our babies. I do see her again, but not until baby weigh in clinic many months later.
The sonographer is the same one we had for our previous scans. She says "I'm sorry". I immediately sob, the tears will not stop. I am confused and think the baby has died.
We go back up to the room escorted by the midwife, and I am in buckets of tears. Dr K walks in and is cross "What's all this for?" he listens to my worries and reassures me. "I am delivering a live baby tomorrow. This baby will be small, will have a huge fight ahead of them, but you must believe in the team, the baby and yourself. Enough now". I pull myself together.
Pollyanna is back. I am in a good hospital, I have a great team, my husband is standing strong, we are going to have a baby. No one ever promised this was going to be easy. Parenthood isn't easy.
My husband leaves to get things sorted at home and to ring people. I start to try to relax and get some rest. I have a long night ahead.