I had such a nice day at home on Wednesday, making ice-cream, cleaning the house and all the while chatting happily away to Nudge. Shortly before the husband was due home, I had a quick shower, straightened my hair, put on a little make up and a clean dress in an effort of doing my very best impersonation of a 1950s housewife. He loves that stuff because usually the exact opposite is his reality!! We enjoyed a nice dinner and a few hours together on the couch in front of the telly before going to bed.

The husband woke me at 1am because I had been whimpering in my sleep. I quickly realised that I was having contractions but it really just felt the same as the Braxton Hicks I’ve been having for the last six weeks so I tried to dismiss it. He had started timing the contractions and thought they were about twenty minutes apart. It was clear that me laying there whimpering wasn’t going to help him get back to sleep so I decided to get up and walk about the house for a while.

By 2am I thought it was time to start writing down the contraction timings (2.15, 2.20, 2.25, 2.30, 2.37, 2.45, 2.55, 3.01, 3.05am) and by 3am I thought it might be a good idea to contact the birthing unit and let them know that I was probably in early labour but mostly just in denial. Given the anhydramnios and the birth defect as well as the distance we need to travel to get to the hospital, it was decided that I should go in sooner rather than later. I updated Klaus and announced that I was just going to take a bath and shave my legs, but Klaus wouldn’t let me because I’d gotten a little bit stuck in the tub last time and he didn’t want a disaster on his hands if it happened again! I took a quick shower and didn’t bother with my legs (too hard), threw on a dress and checked the contents of my hospital bag. Klaus was turning off lights and carrying things to the front door when I decided I’d just unpack the dishwasher – the look of disbelief on his face was hilarious but I did it anyway.

As he locked the front door, I stood on the foot path and looked up at the night sky. There was a gentle breeze; not warm but not cool either, and the sky was very clear except for the all of the stars.

There was no traffic on the express way and we arrived at the hospital at 4am. After sorting out some initial paperwork, the midwife settled me into my delivery suite and after a few more contractions she did a quick examination. I was only at 1cm. Bugger. The obstetrician popped in and did a quick ultrasound to check that the baby was still breech (he was flexed breech). We discussed going home again but with the hellish commuter traffic that blocks both directions of the express way between the hospital and home, we decided it would be better to stay at the hospital. While they prepared a room for me in the antenatal ward, the midwife organised for some panadeine forte and temazapan so I could relax and get a little sleep between contractions. It was shortly after 7am and I decided it was a reasonable enough hour to wake my sister and let her know that things were happening, though very slowly.

The shift changed at 7.30am and my new midwife Tessa introduced herself to us. We discussed the birth plan and my desire to avoid an epidural if possible, and showed me how to use the birthing ball without falling off it! The contractions had been a little sluggish and were really just more of a nuisance than anything else. I decided sleep wasn’t going to happen, so I got up and started walking the length of the suite and back again, over and over.

My beautiful, wonderful outpatient midwife Kate (seriously, this woman is the Mary-Effing-Poppins of Midwifery) arrived and we had a chat. The obstetrician was consulted and it was decided that rupturing the membranes wouldn’t make any difference because there was no fluid and the baby was still breech. It was decided that they would help things along with a little prostaglandin gel, so Kate prepared the gel while Tessa checked me again. It turned out I was already close to 4cm, my cervix was thinning and she could feel the baby’s bottom. The prostaglandin went back in the cupboard, they cancelled my bed in the antenatal ward and predicted that we’d have a baby in our arms shortly after lunch. That’s where everything slowed right down. The contractions were very irregular and often quite mild. My belly bump was still high up under my boobs and I did my best to stay upright and walk-walk-walk-walk the length of that delivery suite to coax him down onto my cervix but he just didn’t seem to want to budge. My feet were a little swollen and tired so I did sit down a couple of times but eventually I moved to the birthing ball between Amanda and Klaus, and we just talked crap while I rolled and swayed on the ball.

Tessa came back to examine me again at 3pm and found that I hadn’t made any progress at all. She popped a canula into the back of my hand, gave me two panadeine forte to top up the earlier dose and started me on 3ml of Syntocinon. Klaus’ parents arrived at the hospital and he went down stairs to talk to them. The Syntocinon was increased to 6ml at 3.30pm and by this time my body was really making some decent contractions. The birthing ball was fantastic and I swayed and rolled against each contraction. The Syntocinon was increased again to 12ml at 4pm and Klaus came back into the suite at 4.15pm and asked if it was ok if his mum popped in to say hello but the labour had gone from virtually non-existence to DEFCON2 in the short time he was away. His mum realised from the noise that it wasn’t a good idea. :/

My memories of this time onwards are very hazy in parts and I’ve only been able to piece together the following with a lot of help from Klaus and by using our massive collection of photos to create a fairly accurate account of what happened.

From this point on, I remember each contraction as being a bit fuzzy to start with (probably because of the panadeine forte), gradually increasing to regular painful-ness then a new sensation of pressure appeared which had me almost screaming (the actual screaming didn’t really happen for ten more minutes). I was still on the birthing ball, rolling with each contraction then leaning right back as the insane pressure part of the contraction occurred. Klaus and Amanda had been holding my hands and rubbing my back during this part, though I am sure they were doing a lot more too that I wasn’t aware of. I know Amanda was also updating and coordinating family members by phone and providing regular sips of water as well.

Kate and Tessa came back at 4.30pm and between gritted teeth I told Klaus and Amanda not to let them touch the machine! Everyone laughed and I remember wondering why they thought it was funny – I was serious!! Klaus tells me that, at this point he asked Kate if we could get me something for the pain and Kate said I would tell them when I needed pain relief. I wasn’t sure if I needed pain relief yet; I was actually waiting for the contractions to get worse! He explained his background as a pallative care nurse and said that he didn’t like to see anyone in pain, and Kate said it was ok, that this pain was good pain and for him not to worry. Kate suggested that Klaus move to sit directly in front of me and I straddled his knees with mine, and pressed against his knees with each contraction. That counter pressure was great but I had started to tremble a lot after each contraction.

Tessa and Kate said they would examine me again at 6.30pm but I was adamant that they should check me again right away because I felt things were much further along. I left the birthing ball and moved to the bed, but the contractions were right on top of each other so Tessa turned down the Syntocinon to 6ml. She examined me again and said she wasn’t sure. She asked me if it was ok if she consulted with the obstetrician and explained that she doesn’t normally do this but she wanted to get it right. Klaus thinks she was concerned about something but that’s just reading between the lines.

I rolled onto my right side and clung to the edge of the bed and my husband who had positioned himself to keep me from falling. With each contraction, he hugged me tight – I clearly remember feeling as though the ceiling was falling down on us and he was protecting my body with his. The contractions were huge and right towards the back of each contraction was this excruciating pressure that made me scream and terrify my poor sister and husband.

The senior obstetrician arrived but I’d had my eyes closed for some time now and was only aware that there was a new male voice in the room. Apparently I barked “Why is (brother inlaw) in here??”, much to the amusement of everyone else. The obstetrician introduced himself and examined me. With the next contraction, I really really wanted to push and up to this point no one had said I could. I really felt I wasn’t doing anything, I was just “there”, secondary to the contractions and everything else in the room. I knew from my readings into breech deliveries that it’s best to have an epidural so you don’t feel those early urges to push because pushing a breech baby too soon can hurt the baby and/or yourself. I didn’t want the epidural so I knew I needed to be careful and I’d resisted the strong urges to push since the last few contractions on the birthing ball but I really really felt I had to push now.

The obstetrician told the midwives that I was 8-10cm but there was one side of the cervix hadn’t completedly thinned out. I asked if I could push and he said I could push if I wanted to, but the midwives ushered the obstetrician out the door and Kate said she would tell me when to push because the contractions were doing such a good job of moving the baby down and out, that I didn’t actually need to push. Although I was told all of this I really don’t remember it and was still wondering when I should push! At this point someone, probably Tessa, took away the Syntocinon drip and turned on the nitrous oxide (90% gas, 10% oxygen) and Klaus held the hose to my mouth and gave me “breath in, breath out!” instructions. I continued to do a fair bit of screaming during those contractions and made useful statements such as “he’s coming!”, “help me!” and “do something!”. My poor sister will probably need years of intensive therapy to get through the post traumatic stress disorder of this part of the labour but she was brilliant, staying right by my side, holding my hand and administering sips of water between contractions. By now it was almost 5pm and everything really went very fast. The contractions were very intense, as was the pressure of the baby moving down the birth canal.

Klaus kept right on holding me and telling me to breath in and out. My eyes were still firmly shut but I remember being in the dark and just spinning in an anti-clockwise direction. Kate got right into my ear and told me that Nicholas’ gorgeous little butt was out and she moved my hand to touch him. I still hadn’t pushed and was screaming against the intense urge to push with each contraction. Klaus kept right on with the gas and the breathing instructions. I was breathing gas between the contractions as well now and went into a really dark, spinning place. I remember Kate saying that she needed to clean up some poo then she quickly added that it was baby poo, not my poo!! (TMI?!?!) Kate and Tessa rolled me onto my back but in my head I was just spinning around and around and around and around in that total blackness for what seemed like a thousand years – the only sound was Klaus’ voice. They were trying to take the gas away from me but I wouldn’t let it go. Kate flipped the gas off so I was getting oxygen only and I accusingly told them that I knew what they were doing!! Suddenly Kate’s voice boomed loud from somewhere in that darkness and brought me back into the room; “Tamara, it’s time to meet Nicholas”. Her voice was urgent and authoritive. Everything was happening so quickly and I was really punch-drunk.

Tessa explained later on that they could see Nicholas’ chest and he was trying to breathe but I hadn’t delivered his shoulders yet. Kate tried to get me to focus and push – I was aware of someone pushing on my stomach to help him out. His shoulders and head came out, Kate cleaned his face and put him straight onto my stomach. It was 5.17pm on Thursday 25th February 2010.

I was still very much out of it and unfortunately I don’t remember this first hand but I have now seen the photos and video, and will treasure them forever. Beautiful little Nicholas was the most greyish-purple baby I’ve ever seen. His APGAR score at 1 minute was 2, and at 5 minutes it was 3. (The same chart recorded stage 1 of my labour as being 7+hrs and stage 2 as 22 minutes!). I held our adorable little boy on my belly to keep him warm while the midwives clamped his cord. Tessa handed me the scissors and held his cord for me to cut. A female registrar obstetrician arrived then to deliver the placenta. They cleaned me up and said I had a small tear but that it didn’t require stitching. Kate placed an oxygen tube to blow across Nicholas’ face and I just kept on holding him and trying to keep my head in the moment (I really was still very out of it). Everyone knew that time was short so they cleaned me up quickly, Klaus and Tessa pulled me up the bed and Kate covered me with a fresh sheet. Kate told Klaus to unbutton his shirt and they moved Nicholas onto his chest and found a little hat to keep his head warm. His colour gradually improved until he was almost pink, though his hands and feet were still greyish-purple. Nicholas had wonderful cuddles on daddy’s chest, he cried and grimaced and my brave beautiful little boy did his very best to breathe.

Kate and Tessa went back and forth a few times, and in the next couple of minutes two pediatricians arrived to assess little Nicholas. They listened to his heart and to his breathing but it was obvious that he had such a small amount of lung development that there was nothing they could do to help him. They offered us some oral morphine and some glucose to help keep him comfortable but Klaus and I decided we would try the glucose syrup first because we were worried that the morphine might shorten his time with us. Kate returned with a syringe filled with glucose syrup and gave it to me. I squirted a few mls of the clear liquid onto the side of his tongue and his little face screwed up in response.

We think at this point Amanda must have gone out to get everyone because a moment later the room filled with our family. Nicholas continued to squawk while daddy gave him warm cuddles on his chest. We spent the next little while getting to know our little boy, exploring his beautiful hands and feet, kissing his face and sharing lovely cuddles. Everyone had a little hold and before much longer the priest arrived to conduct the baptism. I held Nicholas in my arms while the priest performed the service and my brother Adam and his wife Jennifer became Nicholas’ godparents.

My dad and his partner arrived, but knowing the end was growing nearer, I just couldn’t let Nicholas out of my arms to let my dad hold him. Dad said he understood.

Nicholas didn’t feel as warm inside the blanket so I tucked him inside my gown and held him against my chest to keep him warm. Gradually our beautiful little boy became quieter and sleepier. His little eyes grew heavy and each breath became more difficult. I rubbed his body and held him close, fighting back the huge wall of tears that I knew would come very soon. Klaus picked up a stethoscope from a counter and listened to Nicholas’ heart. It was slow, perhaps 50bpm. He moved the stethoscope to my ears and held the other end to our baby’s chest but I couldn’t hear anything. He listened again himself and said he couldn’t hear the heart beat now at all. Our baby had passed. It was 7.20pm.

Eventually our family left us to be alone with Nicholas and I was at last able to get up, pee, shower, dress, etc as up until then I’d been wearing only the hospital gown and was covered by just a sheet. While I sorted myself out, Kate filled the baby’s bath and arranged the various things we needed to clean up Nicholas. He was weighed (2.51kg or 5lbs 9oz) and measured (45cm). Klaus and I gently rubbed his beautiful soft skin with J&J Top to Toe (the scent that will forever remind me of our baby), then lovingly gave him his first and only bath. The warm water made his body feel so lovely in my arms and I will treasure the memory of him feeling so warm. We dried and dressed him in his blue romper (covered in hippos and giraffes) then wrapped him in the beautiful blue cotton blanket that his lovely HAPL aunties gave him.

Kate eventually left to go home at around 10pm (!!!) and Rowena took us to my private room in the antenatal ward (far away from the maternity ward with all the mums and their crying babies).

The following morning Kate visited and brought with her a hospital memory book for Nicholas. She had taken it home the night before and scrapbooked it into the most precious and beautiful keepsake. I will forever be so grateful for Kate. She gave me such strength and support to continue with the pregnancy, as well as during the labour and in the days following Nicholas’ birth. I wish I could do something for her in return.

The geneticist came to see Nicholas on Friday morning. He was very sweet to Nicholas, gently cooing to him as he did the external examination. One thing that we had noticed while Nicholas was still alive, is that he seemed to have one blue eye and one brown eye! The geneticist had a little look and felt that actually both his eyes were blue but that there was a definite area in the iris where the pigmentation was brown. The geneticist went away to discuss this with his colleagues and eventually returned to tell me that he was thinking that it might be a retinal coloboma. The thing with retinal colobomas is that they are often associated with the same genes that touch on renal development. We might actually get some answers after all.

The rest of the day was quickly consumed by obstetrician and midwife visits, and a lengthy visit from the social worker. There had been some talk of me going home on Saturday morning but by 5pm on Friday I felt that I hadn’t had a single minute alone to be with my baby and a little meltdown followed. Klaus spoke to the midwives and it was decided that I should stay a while longer.

I slept barely, spending most of the time holding Nicholas, exploring his feet and hands, kissing his delicious neck and committing the perfection of every part of him to memory. Kate had mentioned that it would be ok for me to go for a walk outside with Nicholas and that provided I kept him wrapped and walked with purpose no one would look twice. We showered and dressed, wrapped Nicholas in his lovely soft blanket and went for a walk to the fairy garden at the Children’s Hospital. It was quiet and peaceful, and just so lovely to sit together as a little family with our precious baby. I’ll forever be so grateful to Kate for telling us about the fairy garden; it was a very special time for us.

By Sunday morning I was really really dreading having to leave the hospital – I still needed more cuddles with Nicholas but I knew we couldn’t do this forever, no matter how much I wanted it. We walked outside and sat on a bench, sipping hot tea and watching the morning unfold around us. There were still a few things I wanted to do but I didn’t have the means to do them and the midwives rostered to care for me over the weekend were very different to the ones that worked during the week. I didn’t feel that I could ask for their help – in fact, asking one of them for my breakfast when the food services lady had forgotten about me only created massive problems which is why we were sitting out in the sun with a cafe bought breakfast. I wanted to cut a lock of Nicholas’ hair but I didn’t have any scissors. I wanted to take hand and feet prints but I didn’t have any white card (the hospital uses blue card for that which won’t scan very well). It probably doesn’t sound like much but it was a very big deal to me. Klaus spoke to the right people and arranged for me to go back to the hospital on Tuesday to do these things and we sadly repacked my hospital bag and prepared to leave.

I hated leaving him there – the midwives wouldn’t let me place him in the box they use for angel babies; I was only allowed to put him in the cot and go. It hurt a lot thinking that each kiss might be the last unless I could steal just one more. I patted his tummy and rubbed his feet and kissed his forehead again and again but then it was time to leave. I cried the entire way to the car park and then the whole way to my sister’s house. We’d decided to stop there first to get a copy of the photos she had taken. I’m so glad we did because my wonderful amazing sister recorded lots of video of our beautiful little boy as he lay snuggled and warm on his daddy’s chest. Nicholas cried and kicked and looked up at us both. Yes, our baby died but our baby also LIVED and that is more than we’ve ever had before. We are both so heart broken right now but watching the video of him squawking and squirming is so uplifting and does so much to take away the pain of what followed. It’s going to be a long time before either of us are “ok” but we’ll get there eventually.

This entry was posted on Tuesday 2nd March 2010 at 7:28 PM and is filed under Nudge, Pregnancy. Both comments and pings are currently closed.