"A mother's joy begins when new life is stirring inside. When a tiny heartbeat is heard for the very first time, and a playful kick reminds her she is never alone" - Author Unknown.
Weeks seemed to drag by. The endless morning sickness and exhaustion plagued my daily commute to London. I struggled to keep up with the relentless pressure of my masters degree, but set my sights on the end goal of completing the course before my due date. It was by no means easy, but I was managing to hold it all together some how. Like most expectant mothers, each week we would open the various baby apps and find out what was happening that week. It astounded me how fast systems developed, matured and prepared our little one for life outside the sanctuary that was my body. We marvelled at how much that little bean had grown at our 12 week scan. There on the screen was a tiny human! Again we were overcome with joy, and fear, as reality really began to set in. I remember countless occasions when panic would set in. What were we doing!? How did we know we would be good parents? What if the baby didn't like us? All thoughts, that now I know are perfectly normal to have when becoming parents. But these episodes were also met with times of great excitement and joy. I will never forget shopping for our first baby clothes and eyeing up all the countless gadgets you supposedly needed to keep babies happy and healthy.
Telling our families was the hardest part by far, and a tale I will save for another day, but both families received the news well. Finally we could relax and fully embrace the pregnancy journey! Life became somewhat more complicated when we were informed that our baby had a low Papp-A hormone count. This meant that there was a risk of growth restriction and premature labour, so we were referred to consultant lead care and told we were to have regular growth scans to assess how well the baby was growing. At 20 weeks our little one was doing fine. Bouncing around the screen, performing all forms of gymnastics, it wasn't long before we were known as the couple with the awkward baby during scans. The scans became a welcome reassurance that all was well and things were progressing as they should be.
However, around 30 weeks, the scans started to show that the growth was slowing down. Those pesky little markers were failing to meet the predicted growth lines on the chart and each scan they fell lower and lower. Remarks were made by the consultant, claiming that if this pattern continued they would have to induce labour early to avoid further risk. Nerves started to set in, and like many women approaching their due date, scenarios ran through my mind each night, robbing me of much needed sleep. There were many long tiring nights spent in the labour triage unit, my partner trying his best to stay awake and comfortable in those awful stiff chairs, whilst we waited to feel the baby move or for a consultant to tell us that the pains I was feeling were not early labour. The early hopes for an easy pregnancy were long gone, and all I wanted was for my baby to be in front of me where I could make sure they were safe and happy.
More weeks dragged by. We moved house, moved our horse, and prepped the house for our new arrival. There were still many things to do but we had time, the baby wasn't due for another 5 weeks. That's when everything changed. We attended our regular growth scan and were told that by some miracle our baby had shot up two percentiles on the growth chart! Something didn't feel right, there was surely no way a baby could grow that much in two weeks, and after much persistence another scan was scheduled for the next day to reassess the findings.
Sitting in that waiting room I felt sick, I had briefly checked the chart before handing it over to the receptionist in the antenatal clinic, and it was clear that there had been minimal, if any growth since the scan a few weeks ago. Clearly the yesterdays scan was wrong. Watching the consultant frown and read over our notes again and again, it felt like the world just stopped spinning. Obviously something was wrong and I just wished he would hurry up and put our minds at ease. Then he said what we both instinctively knew. The baby had stopped growing as was at risk for stillbirth if we didn't induce labour early. At 36 weeks, I was just short of induction guidelines and we were told induction would have to be arranged for that Saturday when I would be 37 weeks. Manic baby prepping ensued and before we knew it we were getting the phone call that we could come into hospital and start the induction process. Fear, excitement and adrenaline surged through my body. It was go time.
How did you find your pregnancy and the lead up to birth? I would love to hear your stories!
Stay tuned for my birth story coming next week!