“Mum, my legs have swollen up really badly.”
“OK, I’ll check your blood pressure when we get back to the house”
“Where’s the monitor?”
“I’ll get it now, put your feet up and relax a minute”
“Idris, get off! Stop licking my legs: *laughs*”
“Woah, 179/114. I need to ring Jazz, we’re getting you to the hospital. NOW”
This was the first insight that something was wrong. We’d just been out to celebrate Iain’s 30th. I felt a bit rough, and noticed my legs had just blown up with swelling. I tried not to worry.
We arrived at the hospital at about 11pm. We were straight in. Blood pressure checked, urine dipped and the doctor was sent over immediately.
“Hi Sophie, I’m Marian. You’re not going anywhere tonight, let’s get this cannula in and we’ll get you onto the ward”
Everything settled over night. I wasn’t concerned, neither was the doctor. He came around at around 9:30am the next day, said they weren’t going to start treatment, but they were going to monitor my blood pressure 2 hourly throughout the day. Then I could go home.
I thought I’d wet myself
Mum had come in at around 2pm for visiting. She and I both fancied pizza, this was about 3:15, so poor Iain, we sent him to papa johns to get one.
Probably 10 minutes after he left. Mum and I were sat chatting and I felt suddenly a bit wet.
“Ooh, I’m just popping to the loo, I think I may have wet myself”
Got to the loo, a trail of blood behind me. My pants were sopping red. I shouted my Mum and just like that we were in the middle of an emergency.
Before I go any further. I felt I needed to write this blog post. It’s been 11 days, and I am still struggling to come to terms with what happened. I sit here in tears.
I suddenly had 3 midwifes, a doctor, a surgeon, a student and an anaesthetist around my bed. One was strapping me to a monitor, another on my blood pressure, doctor taking blood from one arm, the other from the other arm. The surgeon quite calmly says. We’re taking you to labour ward, and we’re bringing this baby into the world. NOW.
I felt myself shaking with fear. No I was physically shaking with fear. I can remember repeating, please don’t leave me Mum. Please don’t leave me.
She had called Iain back, he’d left the pizza there.
The team did what they needed to do to prepare me for the C section. And I just lay there, in fear. I just didn’t know what was happening.
It all happened so fast…
Looking back, it was all over so quickly. Wheeled into theatre, spinal in. Baby out and brought to my face for a mere 3-4 seconds. Iain was emotional, I was emotional. And she was whisked away to the baby unit. I didn’t see her for over 24 hours.
But we named her there and then. Deryn Faith Ross. My little bird.
I was in recovery for over 2 hours. I was vomiting, I was dizzy, I was disorientated, understandable really.
Then I was onto the ward and my recovery started.
What actually happened.
So. This is what happened. My blood pressure, for some reason had suddenly risen to being very high. As a result, the placenta blew off and was hanging on only by a third. They described me as a ticking time bomb.
I later discovered that this was called a category 1 emergency section. Meaning they had 12 minutes to save our lives. To save my little girls life. And they did.
Say what you want about the NHS, but in an emergency, it comes into its own. We are both very lucky to be alive. And I will be forever grateful to all of them for saving us.
Had I been at home. 40 minutes away, we would not have been so lucky. And that scares me senseless. That sends me into a frenzy, the “what if” having been through what I have.
As I said earlier. I have been struggling to come to terms with what happened. And I’m sure it will be this way for a long time. But we’re both here, we’re both safe, and we’re both recovering slowly. I just can’t wait for us to be able to go home and get back into some sort of normality.
My little bird
My little bird is doing well, she’s growing, and she’s developing her little personality as each day goes. She is the spitting image of her dad, down to the curve in her little finger. Even the nurses say she’s the image of him.
First he takes my dog, now he takes my baby! Ha!
Iain is absolutely in love, as am I. We’re now a little family. A proper family.
And we can’t wait to be able to get started. Properly.