A tale of IVF success
by Jo Turner
“She really is a miracle” they say to me. While many new parents think this of their
own children this was my consultant obstetrician explaining my caesarean to me
in recovery and why it took so long to get me there after giving birth to my
daughter. This all started with a visit
to my GP and then referral to the IVF clinic.
7 February 2008
“Do you mind if we talk about your sperm with my sister?” I ask my
husband. An unusual question I grant you
and one I never imagined asking.
However, we have just seen the consultant at the IVF clinic and my
sister is coming to see us tonight and she is training to be an embryologist
(at a different clinic I will add!). We
know this is the start of what could prove to be a long and expensive process
but we both hope it will be successful.
30 April 2008
It is 6am in the morning. After years of trying for a baby my husband,
Ben, and I have decided to try IVF and we are waiting for the pregnancy test to
tell us if we have been successful from the first cycle. After hours, okay maybe just 2 minutes, we
look and the test is negative. I am so
disappointed and refuse to believe it despite knowing IVF so often does not
work, particularly not first time.
Having tried to get pregnant for some time, I have a few pregnancy tests
to hand and I try again. After 4 further
tests we conclude that we are pregnant: the test we received
from the IVF clinic took 8 minutes to change but it did eventually also say I
was pregnant. Shock, excitement and
nerves set in. But, being IVF, this is
very early in the pregnancy and many people still miscarry at this point in
time. We cannot get too excited.
16 May 2008
It is the date of our first scan.
As we had IVF we have a scan at 6 weeks (included in the ridiculous high
price we paid). We will know for sure if
our little bundle of cells we saw 2 weeks ago is still hanging in there and is
starting to grow. We sit at the IVF
clinic with other nervous couples. I
have had 8 scans during the IVF process, and I was nervous before each but this
is something different, will we get to see our future child? Eventually we are shown in. And all of a sudden, there on the screen is a
blinking dot. “That is the heart” says
the sonographer. Can you fall in love
with something that looks like a mouse cursor on your computer? Well I did! However, only being 6 weeks pregnant we need
to keep the news to ourselves and a few close family and friends for a
while.
11 June 2008
Just as I am going to bed I notice I am bleeding. Terrified, we call the midwife team. They try to calm me down and say that the
amount of blood does not sound that much and to try and sleep and, if I am
still bleeding tomorrow, phone again. “Sleep,”
they say. “As if,” I think. However,
after a few hours of sleeplessness I finally drop off. But when I wake in the morning I am still
bleeding. The midwife team are great and
get me an appointment in the afternoon at the Early Pregnancy Unit. Luckily my husband can rearrange meetings and
arrives at the hospital just in time to come in with me. The sonographer quickly scans me and
reassures us that everything looks okay.
I burst into tears with relief.
After seeing the doctor to be told that bleeding is “just one of those
unknowns”, we are sent home.
I continue to bleed a little throughout the whole of my pregnancy,
never as much as these few hours on this day but more than I would expect, and
each time I see a health professional, I am told that it is “just one of those
unknowns”.
25 June 2008
It is the day of our 12-week scan.
I seem to have had so many scans already but this is the first ‘over
belly’ one and I am not sure what to expect – other than what I have seen on TV
and films. It is weird sitting in the
waiting room seeing all these pregnant woman and finally feeling that I should
hopefully be like that soon. Our
hospital offer the combined test for Down’s Syndrome. The fluid at the back of the baby’s neck is
fine from the nuchal translucency scan but we need to wait for the blood test
to be certain. This comes back within 2
weeks and we are at low risk. Getting
through the first trimester is a great relief and I start to try and enjoy the
pregnancy more and worry less.
14 August 2008
We go to see the consultant obstetrician today. Mixed news, my pre-existing medical condition
should have no impact on our baby (which I knew as I had researched this
beforehand) but I may need to have a caesarean to ensure that my blood pressure
does not rise too high (which will interfere with my condition). I am told to talk to the anaesthetist and my
neurologist and then come back to discuss the final plan. But otherwise I do not need any special care
at the moment.
I have spoken to someone in the past and knew that I might need to give
birth via caesarean. However, I am still
slightly disappointed as I really wanted to give birth naturally.
28 August 2008
My 21-week scan today and the panic I had at the start of my pregnancy
of something going wrong seems to have eased (most of the time at least) and I
am excited as we go to the scan.
Everything seems to be in place and working as it should be, but the
measurements show our baby to be a bit small.
Nothing to worry about we are told, come back in 5 weeks for another
scan. The sonographer does not seem concerned,
and I am thinking that a small baby might not be so bad to give birth to!
29 September 2008
We have our extra scan today and, while our baby is still quite small,
the blood flow in the brain and belly is good which means that everything is
growing as it should. We do not need to
return for any more scans. I am very
conscious that my bump seems quite small but so long as everything is okay with
our baby it does not really matter that I look more fat than pregnant still.
November 2008
First NCT class held tonight.
The other people are really nice and I am looking forward to getting to
know them better. We are all due within
a month of each other and it is nice to chat to people going through the same
things as me. However, I am even more conscious
that my bump is very small.
27 November 2008
We have already been to see the anaesthetist and my neurologist, and
they both say that as my pre-existing condition fairly under control now, they
see no problem for having a natural birth.
I am hoping that the consultant obstetrician we are seeing today agrees.
After a long wait we are eventually shown into a room. My blood pressure is taken by the nurse and
my bump is measured. I am still feeling
positive at this point. But then the
doctor says that he has concerns. For
some reason, even though I know what he is saying is really important, I am
struggling to listen and concentrate.
“You are measuring very small”, “higher than expected blood pressure”,
“problem with urine sample”, “pre-eclampsia”, “baby very small due to lack of
nutrients” are all mentioned. The key
point is to come back tomorrow to the Day Assessment Unit where more tests will
be carried out. Following that, they
want me back next week for more scans.
We head home quite numb. I had
hoped to be talking about caesareans or natural birth but now I am terrified
that there is something wrong with our baby.
My husband tries to keep me calm, as we are told I need to do this, but
it is difficult.
28 November 2008
Back to the hospital for further tests.
The nurses who run the Day Assessment Unit are lovely and take a lot of
time to explain what and why they are doing.
After a few hours we leave relieved.
I do not have pre- eclampsia. My
blood pressure does calm down through the 15 minute obs that were done; it is
raised but nothing serious. There is no
problem with the urine. The monitoring
of the movements of our baby show that there is a lot of movement as is
expected. The nurse agrees that my bump
is a little small but she does not think it is anything to worry about. We go home and celebrate, a peppermint tea
for me though! We still need to go back
for another scan next week but as I do not have pre- eclampsia I am calming
down and will take it as another opportunity to see our baby before the
birth. Baby is still in breach though,
as it has been at many of these appointments.
I vow to do all the exercises I can to turn the baby to the correct position,
I still am very keen not to have a caesarean.
4 December 2008
My husband was not sure if he could change his meetings at work so my
mum comes with me for the scan; she is very excited as for her three
pregnancies scans were only available if you had difficulties so she never saw
one. As we are waiting to be called
through my husband turns up, hurrah.
We are shown into the scan room and the sonographer does his work. We are immediately told that our baby is
still in breach; “Darn,” I think.
Looking at the screen I can tell that there is very little growth since
last week. We are then told that the measurements
they have would usually indicate (1) the dates are wrong, but as this is IVF
this cannot be the case or (2) the parents are very small, but as my husband is
6’7” and I am about 5’6” this is not the case; as their 2 possibilities are
ruled out there would appear to be a problem.
All three of us sit there in shock while we wait for a consultant to
come in and explain things. After
discussions we leave the hospital with information on ECV (external cephalic
version, where the baby is turned manually into a head-down position) and
caesareans. We are told that our baby
will be delivered before Christmas (due date is 7 January). Finally we are told to come back on Monday
for a consultant sonographer to perform his assessment and to go back to the
Day Assessment Unit for more monitoring.
Dazed, confused and scared we leave the hospital and head home.
6 December 2008
I wake up early in the morning and am conscious that I have felt no
movements; usually it’s the baby that wakes me.
I decide I must be imagining it given the stress of the last couple of
days and try to relax. After an hour I
wake my husband and together we try all of our tricks to get the baby to move –
playing music, shining a light, prodding.
Still nothing. After another hour
and half we phone the hospital and are told to come in.
I expect to be treated like a hysterical woman but the team are really
supportive. I sit in a labour room
attached to the monitors and immediately hear our baby’s heart beat. Relief once again floods through me. With that the baby starts kicking like a
football pro. We are left in the room
for over an hour to listen to the heartbeat and feel reassured. I cannot thank the team enough for letting us
take our time.
It is at the point that I think the ECV is not something I want to
do. Why put extra stress on our baby to
move into the correct position. I am
certain now that we will have a caesarean.
8 December 2008
The monitoring in the Day Assessment Unit goes well. Other than being small the tests are
fine. We head down to the scanning room.
After lying there to have many more measurements taken we are told that
the baby does not appear to be growing which is likely to be due to it not
receiving enough nutrients and are advised to consider delivering our baby
early so that nutrients can be given via milk or a drip. The sonographer heads off to talk to a
consultant obstetrician and comes back with the news that they recommend our
baby is delivered on Thursday by caesarean.
As we are only at almost 36 weeks and our baby is quite small we should
be prepared that we might need the Special Care Baby Unit. We stay at hospital for the next 3 hours to
be taken through the procedures that will happen, filling in forms and having
steroid injections (to help further develop the lungs).
I ask if we will know why our baby stopped growing and I am told that
it is unlikely we will ever know. Once
again it is “just one of those things”.
I worry that all my worry has caused this, stress at work, etc. But my husband tells me to stop thinking like
that.
We head home and then go shopping.
We are almost ready but all the clothes I have bought are for a big baby
(7+lbs) as both my husband and I were about 8lb. We buy the smallest baby clothes we can find
and they are really tiny. I cannot
believe that in less than 72 hours we will have our baby.
The next day I finish work, as planned.
My friends cannot believe I am there to finish up given our news but it
helps to take my mind off Thursday. I am
still in shock that we will be parents in less than 48 hours.
The next day we also have our final NCT class and tell everyone our
news. They all seem as shocked as
us. Everything we learnt will soon be
put into practise.
On Wednesday I have my one day of maternity leave. As well as ensuring the hospital bags are
packed, I get presents sorted for Christmas.
I have already bought them but have not wrapped any. I decide not to write any Christmas cards as
I run out of time, people will understand I hope.
11 December 2008
It is so weird driving to hospital knowing that I am going to give
birth. I pay attention to everything we
drive past and I seem to be looking at everything in a slightly detached way
but with lots of clarity. Take That’s
“Greatest Day of My Life” plays on the radio and I start to cry.
Despite being 6:30am when we arrive, the hospital is starting to wake
up. We are shown to the post operative
ward and my husband and I get dressed.
At about 8am we walk together with the midwife pushing a bassinet to the
theatre. I did not imagine this is how I
would be in the hour before our baby’s birth but I am curiously relaxed.
In theatre we are warned that the metal on the large lights is like a
mirror so we might not want to look at it!
I vow not to look there. After
ensuring that I cannot feel anything the operation starts. Very quickly I feel some pulling in some
stomach area and my husband is told to get the camera ready. And all of a sudden over the divide appears
our daughter, tiny, covered in blood but making a very small crying noise. She is rushed away by the paediatrician to be
checked over. My husband looks torn,
stay with me or go over and see her. I
tell him to go to her. I lie there
craning my neck to see what is happening.
We are told that she is fine. She
weighs 4lb 12oz which is larger than they were expecting, and at the moment all
tests have been passed so she does not need to go to Special Care. She is wrapped up and I am finally given her
to hold.
At this point I am not conscious of anything else going on around
us. But through the fog of what I am
feeling while holding my daughter for the first time I am sure I hear the words
“get another consultant” and “placenta”.
I ignore it and carry on looking at my husband and daughter while the
midwife takes photos of us. The
anaesthetist then asks if my husband would mind taking some photos. This curious question brings us both out of
our haze. Why do they need photos?
We notice that the room now has more people in it, like that was
possible given the vast quantity already needed for a caesarean I think! The anaesthetist explains that the placenta
has grown in an unusual area and they need photographic evidence as it is very
rare. The other consultant had been
called in to verify that had been seen.
Photos are taken and the medical team are discussing things between
themselves, but Ben and I cannot take our eyes off our daughter after being
told I am okay.
In recovery, our consultant who performed the caesarean comes to check
on us. It is then we are told that I had
a Cornual Ectopic pregnancy and they do not understand how our daughter has
managed to survive until 36 weeks. “It
is a miracle she is here at all, I am not aware of any other babies who have
survived” the consultant says. It is at
this point in time I realise how special our daughter is. She has battled through a lot to get to us. During my stay in hospital we speak to the
consultant and her team a few times and sign forms to allow our notes to be
shared more widely, with the possibility of publishing this rare event in the
medical press.
We cannot decide on a name immediately but by the following morning we
have chosen Abigail Grace, or Abi. She
is the smallest baby on the ward. The
midwives are surprised that a baby so small does not need to be in Special Care
but the paediatrician has been happy with her progress. I am disappointed that I cannot breastfeed
Abigail. I keep trying but she cannot
latch on. For 2 days we fed her with a
cup as I did not want to use a bottle.
But the team were concerned that she got enough food and nutrients and
encouraged me to use a bottle. The very
small amount of breast milk that I express is added to formulae and she is fed
in a bottle on day 3.
We stay in hospital for 5 days, and I am itching to get home when we
are discharged. However, when we walk
through the front door the reality of what has happened really hits home. There are so many reasons why Abi should not
be with us but she is home and we are a family.
Eventually, after a month of persevering I manage to get Abi to
regularly breastfeed. The local
breastfeeding clinic run by the hospital was fantastic. Abi is still tiny but is doing well.
Three Years On
By the time Abi turned one, she was just over the 50% mark for her
weight. So many people told me that
small babies catch up and I did not believe them at the time but Abi is proof
they were right. She is almost 3 now and
is a very determined little girl at times, which is tough but then I think what
a fighter she needed to be here with us and try to take a breath (and to be
honest, that does not always work and I still get cranky, which as I write this
makes me annoyed at myself). She is
hitting all the development milestones as she should and looking at her and her
friends you would not now know the drama that surrounded her in-utero phase.
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