Bubba diaries

Allow me to digress for a moment to mark a few bubba milestones!

Firstly, we were told today that he graduated from physiotherapy! This is great news, as it means that physically, he is finally on track. But sadly, that means we are saying goodbye to his awesome physiotherapist Alison. Bye bye Alison!

Secondly, bubba used the toilet today for the first time! I cannot believe that this has happened so quickly. All credit to his grandma who, in the Chinese tradition, wanted to start potty training ASAP.

Thirdly, bubba is asserting his will in adorable ways. Last night we asked him for his last blueberry, and he complied, but he yelled at us!

That is all.

Cut me up

As soon as the doctor left the room, my husband and I both broke into huge grins.

We were both worried about our baby being in the NICU, but we were just so relieved that the constant unknowing would stop. For my own part, I was relieved because I thought I could finally stop worrying about whether the baby was going to be OK. We had been told for weeks that even if the baby were to come out unexpectedly, there was every chance that he would be perfectly safe in the NICU. This NICU in particular was famous for the level of care provided to babies.

The nurses arranged for us to have a tour of the NICU. At about 10pm, my husband wheeled me down to the NICU and we met the head nurse there.

The nurse took me to see a baby that was about the size that the ultrasound technicians predicted my baby was. The NICU is a very noisy place, but I hardly noticed. I was staring at the baby shocked by how tiny his features were. I remember noticing that there was a red light from a vital signs monitor that shone right through from the bottom of his foot to the top. The nurse pointed out a few things to me, the equipment they used, and made some friendly banter with the other nurses.

I left the NICU very confident that our baby was in very good hands.

The morning of my caesarean section I was quietly nervous and excited. My husband and I thought our ordeal was nearly over.

Hospital life

I thought that being confined to the sofa at home was bad, but it was nothing compared to being stuck in hospital.

I was initially put into a shared ward, but a day later they found me a single room. I cannot emphasise how much this improved my mood. Being able to talk freely with my husband and family made a world of difference.

I quickly fell into the hospital routine. It really helped being a bureaucrat, because I knew how to work the system when things got frustrating. I got to know which nurses were lovely, and which ones to watch out for.

I had to check my urine each day to make sure that I had not developed any bacterial infections, because they would have been fatal for the baby. They had to check my blood pressure several times a day.

They also conducted almost daily ultrasounds of my tummy to check how big the baby was, and how much fluid was left in my uterus. The technicians at this hospital were specialists in the field, and they alarmed me by being surprised at how small the baby was, and how little fluid was left.

The nurses would check that the baby was alive twice a day. They tried to make this test seem very banal, instead of the heart wrenching job that it actually was. There were one or two times where the nurse could not find a heart beat and the range of emotions that we went through in a very short space of time was incredible. I dreaded this test because it would bring home to me each day the gravity of the situation.

I was seen each day by a obstetrician and a renal specialist (for my blood pressure). I was also seen at various times by a paediatrician, a surgeon, an anaesthesiologist and a NICU nurse. I had to see these people in preparation for what they felt was inevitable – an early delivery by caesarean, with the baby in the NICU for an indefinite period.

My family were amazing and kept up a steady stream of visitors and food. Some friends were wonderful, and others did not really know what to say. At times I was very blaze about the situation, and at others I was despondent.

I begged the nurses to let me go outside for just an afternoon, and they finally relented on weekend. I was allowed to leave the hospital in a wheelchair and sit on the grass for a few hours in the sun.

But I knew that a difficult decision was coming. I tried not to think about it. Despite all the evidence, I was still hopeful that the baby was going to defy all the odds and stay in the womb for a few more weeks.

About a week after I had been admitted to the hospital, the ultrasound technician finished a scan and looked at me gravely. He told me again how concerned he was with the size of the baby.

He said that the difficulty with my case was that I was not a clear candidate for an emergency caesar, but if they did not get the baby out soon, there was real chance that he might not make it. There was also a chance that my blood pressure could sky rocket at any moment, putting my life and the baby’s at risk.

They said that they would be referring my file to the head of obstetrics and head of paediatrics to make a decision.

My husband and I waited nervously for an answer.

That afternoon, we were told that the baby would be delivered the next morning.

Tags: bed rest, Hypertension in pregnancy, PPROM

Hospital – an introduction

I was rushed straight into a delivery suite, and they gave me the same drugs as last time to stop contractions. I was admitted to the hospital, and they kept me under observation for a few hours.

They also immediately put in a request for me to be transferred to a hospital that could handle a baby younger than 32 weeks gestation. I was told that this could take hours to resolve, and that I might end up going to Newcastle Hospital. I put that to one side for a moment, because I had to process the possibility that I could deliver that night.

I felt that I was having the beginnings of contractions, but the nurses seemed to be in disagreement about it. Some nurses were sceptical, and others were certain. The nurse assigned to me was extremely grumpy and rude, which made me more anxious. I couldn’t get any information out of her without extreme sucking up, and I wasn’t sure I had the emotional energy to keep that up for the whole night.

They put a belt on my tummy that could measure contractions. It appeared to show some contractions, but that wasn’t enough to satisfy anybody that I was actually in labour.

A new shift started, and a wonderful new nurse came to look after me. She was absolutely lovely and I felt instantly more at ease. She was very reassuring and gave me a running commentary on everything that was happening. She checked on me regularly instead of leaving me for an hour at a time as the previous nurse did.

The contractions were still coming, but they were intermittent, and were getting weaker.

Two obstraticians came in to check on my cervix. I was one centimetre dilated. Combined with the apparent contractions, that was enough for them to step up the campaign for me to be transferred. They were having some difficulty finding a bed in Sydney so they kept saying that I might have to be sent by helicopter to Newcastle.

Close to midnight, they managed to find me a hospital bed in Sydney which was a great relief. The lovely nurse came with me in the ambulance and stayed with me until I was settled. My husband drove separately to the hospital and met me there.

When we got there, the attending obstetrician was very grumpy. She was annoyed about having to admit me, because they already had a full delivery ward. She took a quick history from the nurse, and then glared at her and said “Well, is there anything else? If not, you can leave now.”

She then took a quick history from me and although she was obviously furious, she started to soften once she heard my story. My contractions abated, and by morning, they were fairly certain I wasn’t going to deliver any time soon. They transferred me to a bed in the ward for pregnant women who need special care.

Tags: bed rest, Hypertension in pregnancy, PPROM

Confinement

After I left the hospital, I was on strict orders to remain on the sofa except for the toilet and shower. I could only leave the house if I went into labour.

I was still taking medication for the hypertension I was experiencing during pregnancy and was also still on antibiotics.

My family came to visit and fussed over me, which was very nice. My mum (a nurse and ex-midwife) urged me to use my abdominal muscles as little as possible, and I dismissed it as nagging. That was not very smart on my part.

I was waited on by my husband and my family. I watched movies, read books, and even called the boss to pick up some work. She must have thought I was mad! But I needed the distraction and mental occupation desperately. I was only mildly concerned about the baby at this stage. I was more anxious about lying down in the same position hour after hour, day after day, potentially for ten more weeks. I was beginning to get serious cabin fever.

I began thinking that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad if the baby were to come out soon. Of course, I knew on some level that it was not good for the baby to come out too soon, but nobody had explained the situation to me completely. In fact, many nurses went out of their way to reassure me that if the baby did come out, he would be absolutely fine in the NICU. I’m sure this was just so that I wouldn’t completely freak out, because in reality, I had very little control over the situation.

So I continued to think that in some ways (meaning, in ways that would suit me!) it would be better if the baby came out. In my head, I imagined a miniature baby cooing in a humidicrib for a few weeks.

One week after my waters first broke, my husband was preparing a dinner of minestrone using one of my favourite recipes. We were just about to sit down for dinner when I went to the bathroom. There was blood – it was a show. I felt a wave of panic, and called out ‘We have to go to the hospital, now!’ We immediately left for the hospital, and went straight to the maternity ward.

Again, I felt a rush of panic and excitement, but this time I also felt some fear.

Tags: bed rest, Hypertension in pregnancy, PPROM, preterm premature rupture of membranes