This year, we had a party for James that was much more casual than his first birthday! To be honest, I hardly thought about it until a few weeks before when I realised it had snuck up on me very quickly. By this stage last year, I had his whole party completely organised, styled and under control. Yet here I was this year, still working on a date! We decided on a quiet morning at home with family and a few close friends...
"Ivy-Mae was 8 months old when we discovered the tumor. The first thing we noticed was the iris of her eye slowly changing colour, followed by a white glow in photos. Ivy also couldn’t really open her eye in the sun, she would always close that eye. After some doctors appointments here in our local town, we were rushed down immediately to Sydney Children’s Hospital (Westmead).
On Tuesday, as I drove down to have the ultrasound that I knew would change our future one way or the other, I was surprisingly confident. Yes I was terrified that our fate was already determined and there was nothing I could do to change it, but somewhere inside there was hope. Scott met me there and the first thing I noticed was the terror in his eyes. As we were sitting and waiting, he said “I hate this. I’ve never been excited for an ultrasound. Not once, not even with James. We have never had a good experience.” It tore me apart to think that we will never get to celebrate a pregnancy the way others do. We will never get to experience those exciting normality’s without being plagued with fear. Our past experiences had taken that away from us and taught us to be cautious in order to protect our hearts.
On Monday, I woke at midnight to go to the toilet and noticed my underwear was wet. I just thought I was sweating (eww, I know) or had a little light bladder leakage (yes, it's real) but when I peed, the toilet bowl filled with bright blood. At that moment, everything just stopped. I've felt this feeling too many times but I still can't describe it - everything literally comes crashing down & there's nothing left but numbness...
James suffered from reflux very early on. He was that NICU baby that need thickened EBM & continuous feeds, who needed their cot elevated, who needed slow gavages (his heart rate and oxygen levels would drop super fast) and who spilled constantly! In hospital, it was managed quite well. But when he came home? Man, that shit almost broke me.
The day after I posted my last blog (reminder: negative pregnancy test, irregular cycle & full blown meltdown), I decided to take another test. I was nauseous and tired, and I just felt like something was up, but I had convinced myself I was imagining these symptoms (don't tell me you haven't done it before!) Sure enough, it was negative and I walked away feeling stupid for being a serial pee-on-a-stick offender. A couple of minutes later I walked past the test and saw two lines. The second one was super faint, but it was there. The first thing I did? I giggled! Like you do when you're tipsy & everything is hilarious. I'm putting that down to shock and disbelief...I couldn't believe it. In fact I didn't.
After a lot of research and a lot of tips from experienced wearers, I strapped my teeny little man to my chest and in that moment, I felt more in love than ever before. James fell straight to sleep in his favourite place and my heart exploded with happiness. I can’t even describe the feeling, but it was as though he was back where he belonged, curled up in a ball as close to his Mummy as possible. He should have still been in my tummy at this stage, but wow, this was definitely the next best thing. From that moment, I was addicted! I wore James every single day. Some days the jobs got done, and some days they didn’t. But I didn’t care.
Today I realised I'm not at all keen on doing the infertility thing again. I'm not playing the constant questioning and waiting game and wasting months while my body dances to it's own fricken beat! So I called Dr S's office, and have booked in to chat about starting clomid. I honestly thought I was strong enough to try on our own & convinced myself we could do it naturally, but it's not worth it. It's now been a year since we decided we wanted another baby, and I'm ready for James to be a big brother. Like now!
although the road may have been smoother for us, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t as difficult in many other ways. I’ve had a lot of parents throughout the past year say similar things to me, such as “our baby was born at 34 weeks, so definitely not as bad as others”, or “our baby was only 5 weeks early, so not really premature” and I find myself getting defensive for them! Umm, no, you were meant to carry that baby an extra 5 or 6 weeks – that’s a bloody long time that your baby was meant to grow and develop in utero. I find it upsetting that parents of late preterm babies (and even me!) feel they need to minimise the difficulty of having a baby too soon...
I had a nightmare pregnancy having found out that my last egg had split in 2. My membranes ruptured around Twin 2 at 17 weeks. We were given a 5% survival rate & even then with severe disability. All we had was a wing & a prayer. We were told that we would lose the boys because the risk of infection was so great that there was no way we’d make it to 24 weeks which was considered minimum viable age for twins. I made it to 23 weeks exactly.
After my successful uterine septum resection surgery in November, I have had a period and we are currently in our first cycle of trying to conceive baby #2! I’m pretty sure I even ovulated all on my own like a big girl! We are obviously super excited but I’m going to be honest, I’ve had a few freak-out moments! Mostly, I’m worried that I won’t love my second child as much as I love James. I know this sounds silly, but after almost 2 years trying to conceive, a miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy and a scary premature birth, James is our little miracle who we thought we might never meet. I almost feel greedy for wanting to add another little babe to the mix.
Giving birth to your baby should be the best day of your life, right? It should be filled with joy and tears of happiness, not sadness. The day I gave birth to our son was not the best day of my life, but one of the worst. This is my story of placenta previa, pre-eclampsia and premature birth, and my plea to other Mumma’s to always follow your gut.
This year, we had a party for James that was much more casual than his first birthday! To be honest, I hardly thought about it until a few weeks before when I realised it had snuck up on me very quickly. By this stage last year, I had his whole party completely organised, styled and under control. Yet here I was this year, still working on a date! We decided on a quiet morning at home with family and a few close friends...
"Ivy-Mae was 8 months old when we discovered the tumor. The first thing we noticed was the iris of her eye slowly changing colour, followed by a white glow in photos. Ivy also couldn’t really open her eye in the sun, she would always close that eye. After some doctors appointments here in our local town, we were rushed down immediately to Sydney Children’s Hospital (Westmead).
On Tuesday, as I drove down to have the ultrasound that I knew would change our future one way or the other, I was surprisingly confident. Yes I was terrified that our fate was already determined and there was nothing I could do to change it, but somewhere inside there was hope. Scott met me there and the first thing I noticed was the terror in his eyes. As we were sitting and waiting, he said “I hate this. I’ve never been excited for an ultrasound. Not once, not even with James. We have never had a good experience.” It tore me apart to think that we will never get to celebrate a pregnancy the way others do. We will never get to experience those exciting normality’s without being plagued with fear. Our past experiences had taken that away from us and taught us to be cautious in order to protect our hearts.
On Monday, I woke at midnight to go to the toilet and noticed my underwear was wet. I just thought I was sweating (eww, I know) or had a little light bladder leakage (yes, it's real) but when I peed, the toilet bowl filled with bright blood. At that moment, everything just stopped. I've felt this feeling too many times but I still can't describe it - everything literally comes crashing down & there's nothing left but numbness...
James suffered from reflux very early on. He was that NICU baby that need thickened EBM & continuous feeds, who needed their cot elevated, who needed slow gavages (his heart rate and oxygen levels would drop super fast) and who spilled constantly! In hospital, it was managed quite well. But when he came home? Man, that shit almost broke me.
The day after I posted my last blog (reminder: negative pregnancy test, irregular cycle & full blown meltdown), I decided to take another test. I was nauseous and tired, and I just felt like something was up, but I had convinced myself I was imagining these symptoms (don't tell me you haven't done it before!) Sure enough, it was negative and I walked away feeling stupid for being a serial pee-on-a-stick offender. A couple of minutes later I walked past the test and saw two lines. The second one was super faint, but it was there. The first thing I did? I giggled! Like you do when you're tipsy & everything is hilarious. I'm putting that down to shock and disbelief...I couldn't believe it. In fact I didn't.
After a lot of research and a lot of tips from experienced wearers, I strapped my teeny little man to my chest and in that moment, I felt more in love than ever before. James fell straight to sleep in his favourite place and my heart exploded with happiness. I can’t even describe the feeling, but it was as though he was back where he belonged, curled up in a ball as close to his Mummy as possible. He should have still been in my tummy at this stage, but wow, this was definitely the next best thing. From that moment, I was addicted! I wore James every single day. Some days the jobs got done, and some days they didn’t. But I didn’t care.
Today I realised I'm not at all keen on doing the infertility thing again. I'm not playing the constant questioning and waiting game and wasting months while my body dances to it's own fricken beat! So I called Dr S's office, and have booked in to chat about starting clomid. I honestly thought I was strong enough to try on our own & convinced myself we could do it naturally, but it's not worth it. It's now been a year since we decided we wanted another baby, and I'm ready for James to be a big brother. Like now!
although the road may have been smoother for us, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t as difficult in many other ways. I’ve had a lot of parents throughout the past year say similar things to me, such as “our baby was born at 34 weeks, so definitely not as bad as others”, or “our baby was only 5 weeks early, so not really premature” and I find myself getting defensive for them! Umm, no, you were meant to carry that baby an extra 5 or 6 weeks – that’s a bloody long time that your baby was meant to grow and develop in utero. I find it upsetting that parents of late preterm babies (and even me!) feel they need to minimise the difficulty of having a baby too soon...
I had a nightmare pregnancy having found out that my last egg had split in 2. My membranes ruptured around Twin 2 at 17 weeks. We were given a 5% survival rate & even then with severe disability. All we had was a wing & a prayer. We were told that we would lose the boys because the risk of infection was so great that there was no way we’d make it to 24 weeks which was considered minimum viable age for twins. I made it to 23 weeks exactly.
After my successful uterine septum resection surgery in November, I have had a period and we are currently in our first cycle of trying to conceive baby #2! I’m pretty sure I even ovulated all on my own like a big girl! We are obviously super excited but I’m going to be honest, I’ve had a few freak-out moments! Mostly, I’m worried that I won’t love my second child as much as I love James. I know this sounds silly, but after almost 2 years trying to conceive, a miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy and a scary premature birth, James is our little miracle who we thought we might never meet. I almost feel greedy for wanting to add another little babe to the mix.
Giving birth to your baby should be the best day of your life, right? It should be filled with joy and tears of happiness, not sadness. The day I gave birth to our son was not the best day of my life, but one of the worst. This is my story of placenta previa, pre-eclampsia and premature birth, and my plea to other Mumma’s to always follow your gut.
