Getting Pregnant

I always used to look at other people pushing prams or dragging toddlers round the supermarket and think "why them and why not us?" It seemed so unfair that a couple so in love as me and Tony were finding it so hard to conceive. For three years, we battled with ‘unexplained infertility’ (which made it even more frustrating that there was no real reason) and finally, in November 2003, after many different treatments, it was decided we would be referred for IVF treatment in February 2004. 

With something to focus on, we decided to rest over Christmas, have a good time and then start the intense IVF treatment in February as planned. So, for December we took our final round of Clomid, a drug to help stimulate ovulation. 

On Boxing Day, my period was a few days late but we thought nothing of it. It always was really irregular. Then, after getting home from my mums house we decided to do a test, purely because it was my birthday two days later and I wanted to check as we were going out for a meal. Not that we expected anything other than the usual "no".

It was a stunned silence when a feint blue line appeared, but we refused to believe it. I rang my mum who calmly reminded me she’d never heard of Clearblue tests when she got pregnant, so had no idea if it was positive or not. We checked on the Internet, it seemed like it was a positive result but after many months of "No", we were reluctant to believe it was finally a "Yes". We went to the doctors who confirmed the news we’d been waiting three years for. Oh my god. I was pregnant. The best Christmas and birthday present ever. It was the most incredible feeling in the world that I will never ever forget.

The Pregnancy

We decided not to tell anyone but family until week 12, to be safe. We told my mum, brother, Tony’s' parents and family, and my best friend Sarah, who had really supported us during our struggle to have a baby. Everyone was so delighted for us. It was like we were celebrities, I felt so special and on top of the world. Nothing could go wrong now, life was just perfect. 

The sickness began at full force and although I expected it, it still wasn’t nice. Trying to hide it at work was difficult, and I also teach at home and often I’d have to ‘pop to the toilet’ and be as discreet as possible. But, as much as I moaned at the time, it was all worth it. 

It wasn’t an easy pregnancy, but then again I am a bit of a drama queen. Every bug going around, I caught and it seemed like I was constantly battling a flu, cold, cough, tummy ache or fever. But, I did everything by the book. No Smokey atmospheres, not a drop of alcohol, no nurofen or painkillers, took vitamins and folic acid, exercised gently and kept stress levels down. Although it was difficult at times, it was amazing to know there was a little life growing inside me. A Little miracle. 

When I was just 23 weeks, I went to my nieces’ thanksgiving. It was wonderful. All my family were joking about my size for my dates…"are you sure there’s just one in there??!!" they’d say. I was beginning to wonder myself, I was very big. Come to think of it, ALL of me was very big. Most noticeably, my legs and feet. I found myself prodding the skin on my legs and it would leave an indent, like play dough. And my mum was really concerned. She made me keep my feet up. I put on a brave face but inside I was a bit worried. I’d really started to balloon up and I was finding it hard to walk. I went for a lie down in the afternoon but still didn’t feel any better. 

A week went by and I was approaching week 24. Something still wasn’t right. I was coughing very badly and some days it made me very sick. I couldn’t keep food down and the swelling had got even worse. My hands were sore and my face was puffy. It felt like I was being inflated. Also, I had a discharge, which was worrying too. I couldn’t sleep; I ended up padding myself with cushions, sat up on the sofa. It was the only way I could sleep and I was only getting around ½ hours sleep a night. If I lay down I coughed and could not breathe. If I sat up I got dizzy. I couldn’t win. 
By that weekend I was falling apart. We went to Mamas and Papas to look at buggies and I just could not stand up. I felt weak and sick. On the Sunday, it became too intense and I told my husband Tony my fears. Something wasn’t right. I was worried for our baby. On the Monday morning I got an emergency appointment with my GP, strangely something I’ve never been able to do before. Usually you have to wait a month even if your leg is dangling off. I know now it was a sign that I really needed to be seen. 

I had to go to the surgery in my slippers, as none of my shoes would fit me anymore. Being the fashion guru I am, normally, walking into a surgery in a floral skirt and blue slippers would have killed me with embarrassment, but I really didn’t care. I just wanted our baby to be ok. People were staring as we walked into the surgery. I must have looked awful. Tony had to support me, all my weight leaning onto him because I felt like all my energy was being squeezed out of me. 

Getting Admitted to Hospital

I went in to see the doctor. I just burst into tears. Then the routine started. She checked my breathing, my blood pressure, my tummy, and Baby’s heart rate. It was so scary yet it felt so unreal. Then she told me. "I think you are showing signs of severe pre-eclampsia." Pre-eclampsia. The term escaped me. "What does that mean?" The doctor suggested that Tony come in. "You need to get your wife to hospital straight away. She is showing signs of severe Pre-eclampsia and her blood pressure is sky high". We were petrified. What did this mean? We were told the heartbreaking reality.
"It means you could deliver your baby today", What? I was only 24 weeks! This couldn’t be happening. I was so scared.

We drove to hospital in almost complete stunned silence. I texted my friends to let them know. My best friend Sarah called me to keep me calm…she offered all her help and I asked if she’d put a note on my door-I’m a singing and drama teacher and my students would arrive to find me not there. 

It all seemed like a bit of a dream, even as we arrived at the hospital and I was put into bed. The nurse asked how I was and all I could muster to say was "I’m frightened". 

Before I knew it I was in a robe, being monitored and having blood taken. Tony was by my side the whole time, holding my hand and reassuring me that I and ‘baby g’ would be fine. But would we?

A week went by and I was starting to feel better. I was in the High Dependency Ward of the hospital and the midwives were all lovely, so friendly and caring. It was nice to know that they were genuinely concerned. I became a bit of a celebrity…the lady with pre-eclampsia. I was so swollen by now I could barely walk. I couldn’t dress myself, eat, wash or move. I felt like an invalid. Tony had to help wash me, nurses had to spoon feed me, and often I’d be so ashamed I didn’t want to see anyone. I had a catheter fitted and my blood pressure monitored daily, sometimes every fifteen minutes. My arm was so swollen it felt like it was being broken every time the pressure was taken, and sometimes the nurses had trouble finding a cuff large enough to fit round my arm. My mum came to see me and almost didn’t recognise me. Tony was there every second he could be and was a real hero. We had good days, and bad. We were told good news, and bad. We laughed and we cried. But most importantly, we were together and strong. 

I finally reached week 25 and felt a sense of relief. It was a big milestone to gain a week. We knew that the baby would have to be delivered (delivery is the only cure for pre-eclampsia) but the longer I could hold on, the better. The paediatric nurses came to see us and to discuss what would happen when the baby was delivered and we had a tour around Gosset Ward, the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit. It was full of alarms and buzzers, like the inside of an arcade game. Everyone was so lovely and relaxed, and the babies looked happy and calm. It was scary, but re-assuring. We knew our baby would be here at some point…but when? It was like I was a time bomb, waiting to go off.
It was the Eurovision Song Contest on the Saturday night (15th may 2004). Obviously we didn’t win and I went to bed wondering if I would have been sad enough to watch it if I were at home. Then I began to think some more. If I were at home I’d still be happily pregnant. I would still be craving poppadoms and mango chutney, I’d be preparing for my next show, I’d be enjoying my teaching and planning the nursery. Yet here I was, scared, alone, and unsure of anything. For once I wasn’t in control and I hated it. 

Alfie on his way

Then, as I dozed off I had a shooting pain across my head. It was like I had a helmet on and someone was tightening it up. It made me sit bolt upright. I couldn’t open my eyes so I called the midwife Elaine. She gave me some painkillers. As my eyes opened, all I could see were bright lights, like millions of shooting stars in front of me. I called Elaine again, something wasn’t right I just knew it.
The next few minutes are a real blur. I remember asking for Tony and hearing Elaine call him. She told him not to worry and that we would keep him updated. As my headache worsened and the lights got brighter, my body began to shake. All of a sudden, it was like a scene from Casualty. My bed was thrown back straight, the lights were on and Elaine was calling the consultant. Then she called Tony. It was 2.30am and something was happening. I thought I was going to die. 

I was put on a drip and then given a chest x-ray, it was all very fast. I then had a line put into my neck down to my heart to regularly monitor my blood pressure as it was rocketing. Everyone tried to keep me calm as the excruciating pain shot through my body as they put the line in. It was so painful. Then I had one in my hand but I was so swollen it was hard to do, I kept resisting as it was so painful but I was urged to try one more time. Blood flew everywhere and it was cold on my skin, I was advised not to look but I think the image I created in my head was far worse. I managed to tell them to call Tony to tell him not to speed on the way to the hospital; I was more concerned that he would be ok than what was going on with me. 

When Tony arrived it was like a breath of fresh air. Just holding his hand lets me know I’ll be safe. But inside, I was scared and I think he was too. But we stayed strong for each other and held on tight. Tony slept by my side as the drugs kicked in and I fell to sleep too.

The next morning they decided we had waited long enough and Baby’s heart rate was slowing down. The baby and me were both at risk and it was a very severe case of pre-eclampsia that could seriously harm the both of us. Before I knew it, they asked me if I wanted to be awake with a spinal or asleep with General Anaesthetic for the caesarean section. There was no hesitation. I was determined to be awake for the birth of my baby and Tony and me would be together. Tony got scrubbed up and off we went to theatre. It was happening. Really happening. I was scared and excited at the same time. The baby we had waited so long for was finally coming, three months earlier than planned. 

The spinal took around 45 minutes to administer, as I was still very swollen. As the drugs took effect, my legs felt so strange. It was like someone was using finely shattered glass as a moisturiser on my legs. Very weird. I was moved into position with no control of my lower body. Tony sat by me and we listened to the music playing in the theatre. If I recall it was "Don’t Dream its Over" by Paul Young, which was not only wholly inappropriate, but also a song I really hate. Still, we made light of it as the screen went up in front of me and I took a deep breath. I remember thinking that they would begin and that I would feel it, but before I knew it, it was underway. 
"We’re going to have a baby…." I said.
"Whatever happens now, we are a mum and dad and nothing can change that," said Tony as he squeezed my hand.
One of the doctors leant over…."The baby is out now," he said as he smiled.
"Is he ok?" I said, instinctively knowing somehow that we had a little boy.
"I can’t see…hold on, there’s some wriggling going on…"
"It’s a boy, isn’t it.." I smiled. There was tension and elation in the air. 
"All is ok, the baby is ok…"
I repeated myself "it’s a boy, isn’t it?" my heart was pounding and Tony’s hand was sweaty and his eyes were bright.
"Yes, it’s a boy. Congratulations." 
The music was still playing and Alfie was born to "Ain’t No Sunshine", one of my favourite songs. He was born at 12.14 on 16th May 2004 weighing 1lb and 7oz. 

Alfie was Finally here

We wept with joy as we said together "we’ve got a baby boy!" and then reality kicked in and I panicked, wanting to know he was ok. The midwife asked us if we had a name for the tag. We replied in unison "Alfie John". She smiled, and said she would just put ‘Alfie’ on the tag as it was so small and Alfie John would not fit. 

They wheeled Alfie passed me for a brief moment as he went to the unit. He was so beautiful. I could see his nose and head and he just looked perfect. I whispered, "I Love you" as he was taken past me and to where he needed to be. And suddenly, it dawned on me. I was a Mummy. Tony was a daddy. We were a family. And I was determined that nobody would ever take that away from us. 
I was finally discharged from hospital a week later, seeing Alfie at every opportunity. The first time I saw him was magical. It was hard not to hold him but I touched his hand and he recognised my voice. He was so soft and warm. It was so lovely just sitting with him and talking to him, learning about all his alarms and monitors, what they mean and what they did. The nurses were incredible. So supportive and informative. Always there to provide an answer, a cuddle or just a tissue. True Angels.

When I went home it was refreshing but then I realised Alfie was not with me. The first two weeks after birth were very emotional…I felt very depressed at times and felt I couldn’t go on…but then I’d see Alfie and realise its all been worth it. I’d go through it all again no question; I’d do anything for Alfie, anything in the world.

Although he’s in the unit, I know he’s in the best place and although it breaks my heart to leave him or be at home without him, I know he will be home soon. 

I know that I could not have got through this without my amazing friends and family. My mum, Ian, dad, Kath, Darren, Nicola, daisy, Beth, and Sarah have all been so incredible. They say you find out who your true friends are, and you do. Above all, it has taught me how amazing love is. Tony and I have always been a strong couple, very much in love and I never thought I could love him any more than I already did. But I do. He was a true hero. He says he only did what anyone would do but I don’t think so. He did what I always knew he would do. He was a tower of strength. He was my light and my hope and my true soul mate throughout and for that I am very lucky. He is already the most amazing man in the world and I know he’ll be the most amazing dad. I consider myself very lucky. My family have been so strong for me, and Alfie has been the strongest of all. I’m very lucky. 

I’ve tried to imagine I’m still pregnant, but a superhero who has the special power to be able to see her baby develop and grow. Soon Alfie will be home and we can be a family. And one thing I know for sure, Alfie is the biggest superhero of them all.