30/11/16, my mums birthday, my world changed for the better. We became three- a family, a unit, our testimony was birthed!
As we made our way to the routine appointment scheduled with the consultant on the Monday, we discussed our excitement at seeing our boy on the screen again. You see, we had become accustomed to seeing him weekly as we had been referred for growth scans…
On week 25, a consultant sat us down and broke the news with zero emotion. It went something like this
Consultant- “Ok, so, I’ve checked the flow from the placenta to the baby and it appears it is not working properly. Baby is very small and not growing so I’m referring you to St. Thomas’ hospital in London for further investigation. I’m pretty confident that this baby will need to be delivered early. Normally we wait to deliver at 28 weeks but I doubt you will make it that far…
I completely zoned out, I began saying “this wasn’t part of the plan, this wasn’t part of my testimony.” Again, I began to recite the lyrics of my favourite song ‘when the doctor said no, you said yes’ We were in complete shock and were very quickly ushered out to the reception to confirm our contact details as St Thomas’ would be calling us that same week for a scan and information on our next steps.
I didn’t make it to the car park before I broke down – before I began to think about how tiny and undeveloped my child would be if delivered at 25 or 28 weeks. My husband, being the rock that he is began to reassure me that this was not the end of our journey. We would contact the private fertility clinic and book an appointment for a second opinion but most of all, we were going to pray!
Once home, my mum and close friends came over and lifted our son up in prayers. We decreed and declared, we confirmed the promises of God and said regardless of how early he may be, he will not die. He will be heathy and surprise the doctors with amazing progress.
Week after week, we would make the journey to both hospitals- Kent and London with the hope they would look at baby’s growth and say “ok, we can push one more week.” I was over the moon when we reached the 30 week mark and was just so grateful that each added week meant a greater chance of survival and reduced complications. To be honest, I did find myself asking God many questions. I just didn’t quite understand why the road was still so bumpy. After the multiple IVF rounds, OHSS, a horrible 20+ weeks of morning sickness (HG), I really did think it would be plain sailing from the two pink lines. The battles just seemed to be never ending…
After waiting 50 minutes past our appointment time, we were called in to see the consultant who delivered the bad news to us all those weeks ago. I was a bit off with him at first and really wanted to say something along the lines of “umm, doctor, how do you feel now? You said we would not make it to 28 weeks and here we are at 33!” I think wisdom kept my mouth shut that Monday. He said himself that he was shocked we had made it so far and went into a lot more detail as to why he felt the need to refer us in the first place. I wish he would have taken the time to do that initially… He asked us to return an hour later for a scan (was not impressed) to see how baby had progressed from the previous week.
Consultant- Ok, although the baby is growing, it’s not at the rate we expect and he seems to be dropping off the lower percentile (graph used to give an indication of how a baby should be developing). So, we are going to deliver the baby
Kemi – What, what do you mean, when?
Consultant- Tomorrow or Wednesday. I’m going to send you upstairs for your first dose of steroids, (used to help develop baby’s lungs) you are then to come back tomorrow for the second dose and be admitted to the ward.
Kemi- Are you being serious? I’d like to get a second opinion. Can’t we wait until next week or even the end of the week?
Consultant- No, the longer we leave it, the more danger your son will be in. It’s not a good environment for him at the moment.
Our lives literally went from 0 to 100mph! We were about to welcome our son in the next 48 hours! After the dose of steroids (which REALLY hurt) and one hour of monitoring the baby’s heartbeat, we were given more information about what was about to happen and set off to our local shopping centre on the hunt for premature baby clothes. So, not only had I never pictured myself as someone in the infertility category, I also never pictured myself in the premature baby category either…
This definitely will go down as one of the longest days of my life! Forget the HG days that never seemed to end, this was different. I was about to become a mother, I mean really become a mother. My dream was about to become a physical reality, I would be holding my child- something that had sometimes seemed impossible, distant and vague. The night before was spent washing tiny and premature baby clothes and packing my hospital suitcase (yes suitcase! I didn’t know how long if be in for and didn’t want to forget anything). I’m glad I got to share the experience with my mum and friends.
Midnight came and I was officially nil by mouth. I was told I was number four on the list for the next day for a cesarean section- if we tried a vaginal birth, baby would be at risk as he was not full term. For a split second, the thought crossed my mind that I wasn’t giving birth “naturally”. I quickly reflected on my previous post ‘Natural or Unnatural Baby’ and the conversation I had with a friend who had also been told she was having a c-section. My baby’s health was all that mattered and seeing him alive and well was my only concern. Would he be less of a human being because he had been delivered by c-section? Uh, no! Would he develop differently to other babies who had been delivered via vagina? No. End of.
Excitement and nervousness filled me – I could hardly contain myself. It was real, I was going to meet my son! Those feelings soon turned into frustration and anxiousness as there were many emergency c-sections that kept pushing me further and further down the list. We had been told that it was no longer going ahead and to go over to the Special Care Baby Unit to see where our son would be -“he’s going to be there for a while” one of the midwives told us. I tried my best to ignore that statement and walked slowing to the unit. We had got as far as washing our hands before the call came through that they were calling me into theatre.
Everything seemed like such a blur- panic and excitement kicked in, spinal injection given, lower half of body numb, Travis Greene ‘You made a way’ playing and at 16:52, my Prince was born- Glory to the most high! He screamed and I cried for joy! God did it! It was real, I became a mother, a ‘Woman that did!’
Born at 33 weeks and 4 days, he did not need any assistance with breathing and was placed in an incubator to help keep him warm. I sit here looking at the beautiful bundle God has blessed us with and smile because He Made a Way.
To the world, 33+4 does not equal 301116 but to God, it does. It’s the perfect answer to a simple sum- one which makes no sense to doctors, a mathematician or the ordinary eye… Gods timing is always perfect and does not have to make sense to anyone other than Him.
I know it’s a long post, so I’ll keep you updated.
Be Encouraged, Be Expectant