This is my story about meeting my daughter 5 weeks too early. I became pregnant with my second child 9 months after my first. From the very beginning, I had a small feeling I wouldn’t make it to full term with my pregnancy. I had all the complete opposite symptoms of being pregnant with my son. My first pregnancy was perfect, and I delivered at 39 weeks. This time, I had been nauseated, fatigued and had varicose veins on both legs, which were incredibly painful. I tried to continue exercising regularly and working my regular shifts as a nurse. By 32 weeks pregnant, I came back home from a walk, only to be overcome by intense pain and tightening. I had been experiencing frequent braxton hicks, but my gut feeling was telling me something was wrong. I called the birth suite to tell them what was happening. I got to the hospital, and they told me I was having threatened preterm labour. I was given steroids for the baby’s lungs and medication to ease the contractions. After 2 days in the hospital, I was finally released.
Fast forward to 34 weeks+ 4, I started feeling the tightening and pain. Again, I was admitted for monitoring and medication to stop contractions. I went home after 2 days, only feeling more fatigued than ever. At 34 weeks + 6, I felt a bit of discharge. I went to the bathroom to clean myself up, only to feel clear liquid dripping. I called the hospital and told them what was happening again. When I got to the hospital, the doctors took a test to check if my waters had broken. They were certain it wasn’t, only for them to come back 5 minutes later to tell me my waters had, in fact, broken.
After feeling physically and mentally unwell, the decision to induce me was made. I opted for an epidural which failed right before I needed to push. I have never experienced pain like that in my whole life. I screamed for help and vomited multiple times. I finally got adequate pain relief as I pushed my little one out. I heard her cry, but her grunting was a sign of respiratory distress. I got a little bit of delayed cord clamping before she was taken away to be put on CPAP.
I wasn’t able to see her until my legs were working again. After 72 hours of CPAP and 2 weeks of assisted feeding and caffeine, we were finally able to take her home. Even though it was a fought start for both her and me, I was still able to establish a great breastfeeding routine with her. She is now 4 months old and thriving. If anyone were to take anything away from my story, it would be to trust your gut instinct and never think your problem isn’t worth checking out.
