It’s like I just stepped outside, when everything was going right."
(Home by Michael Buble)
When you’re 6 weeks pregnant, 20 weeks seems like an eternity away.
And yet, here I was; so excited to be ‘half way.’ I was glowing. Our baby was kicking constantly inside. At home, our house was being painted and new carpets had been ordered. The picture of our nursery in my mind. Days earlier, my husband's mother had bought a car seat for us. I felt great and as far as I was concerned, as long as God had given us this little blessing, I couldn't have been happier. Little did I know then; 3 days later our little girl would be born.
After having a bad, heavy feeling and some very minor blood loss at home, we arrived at the emergency section of the hospital at 1am. I had my first ride in a wheel chair as they pushed me up to the maternity ward. I was shaking and felt like being sick the whole time. My husband, who had just felt the baby kick for the first time that night, looked so devastated; like our whole world had come crashing down around us. All night long, I could hear newborn babies crying. At 4 am, I have to go the toilet. My membranes had sagged so low I could feel them. I was then no longer allowed to be upright at all- having to do everything from my bed, which had been positioned so that my hips remained elevated.
The next morning, the doctor told me that I had an Incompetent Cervix; the very same thing that my mother had experienced with my older brother, Isaac, who was stillborn at 24 weeks. With each subsequent pregnancy, she had to have a cervical suture (stitch in the cervix to keep it closed)- that is how I am here today J Every scan, check-up, internal etc. my cervix was closed and I was assured by doctors that this was not hereditary and that I would not need worry about having a stitch put in. The earliest we knew, it was already too late. We were given a choice to either do nothing and the inevitable would happen or to try to have a stitch put in which could, if successful, keep the pregnancy in the womb for at least another couple of weeks and then the baby would be able to survive with the help of machines etc. We decided that I would go to surgery in a feeble attempt to do what we could to save the pregnancy; full knowing that both doing nothing and doing something had fairly much the same success rate. The surgeons broke my waters attempt to push the membranes back to reach the cervix. I had a feeling it wasn’t successful but my husband’s look of agony, as they wheeled me back into the ward, said it all. We then faced the agonising wait to birth my little baby.
I did not sleep properly all night- I woke up every half hour to an hour. The next morning, I called my mum and just asked her to be with me while I waited for my husband to arrive. We cried together and prayed. I had felt my stomach tightening and knew that this was the start of my labour. In some ways it was relief because at least I knew I wouldn’t have to lie in the hospital for days on end waiting for it to happen; I was as prepared as could be and had a peace about it.
The priest from our church came to visit us and offered to baptise the baby while it was still alive in the womb. This was comforting and a beautiful experience as she was still moving inside me. As soon as the priest left, I got up to go to the toilet. And then I saw her little feet pop out; her tiny toes still moving. And before I knew it, I was giving birth our little baby girl. A bit further along, I saw her little heart beating its last beats. Although, it wasn’t planned, my mum showed up just as she was being born and my husband and I agreed that we would like here to stay with us. She was such a calming and reassuring presence and I loved it that she was praying the whole time.
Our little Jubilee, was born sleeping. I asked to have her placed on my chest straight away. I couldn’t believe how tiny and yet how perfect she was. I think I was also in shock that she was a girl, as my husband and I had opted not to find out the baby’s gender and my husband had almost convinced me I was having a boy. I was so overcome with grief and joy all at the same time.
....
On Saturday, my husband showed me a photo of myself in hospital that he had taken on his phone. I broke down into tears in disbelief: it was so surreal. Some days I feel like the loss of our little girl is just a bad dream that I’m yet to wake up from. A pregnancy is completely consuming; you make so many changes both big and small that when it is taken away so quickly, there are often times when I have to remind myself that I’m not pregnant anymore. These moments are hard but I when I feel down, I am resolved to praising God for his mercy, grace and protection. He knows our pain and because of Him, I am determined to stay strong in His love.
No comments:
Post a Comment