I love all my children with all my heart, every mother would say the same. I do not have favourites. They are all equally annoying, loud, messy, hungry, expensive and loveable as each other. But they are mine, and I wouldn’t have them any other way. I wouldn’t give them up for anything.However, I count my blessings everyday that my middle child T is with us. She is my miracle girl in more ways than one. Statistically she shouldn’t really be here.
When I met the Husband, he had been married previously with two children (who I would add are pretty amazing step-children), and had undergone a vasectomy. When we got together we talked about having children ourselves, and investigated the possibility of having it reversed. However, we discovered that we would have to have the procedure done privately, at great cost.
We spent a long time, months and months, investigating the procedure, discussing the possibility of the success, sorting out money. The Husband had to take a very long three and a half hour train journey to Hartlepool for a consultation, and came back with a pretty uninspiring and confusing set of notes, hand-drawn diagrams, quotations and paperwork. His vasectomy had been carried out 13 years previously, and we were told that the success rates of reversals drops considerably the older the vasectomy. However we decided that we would go ahead and try. We had to.
So, we discussed everything with our other children, my step-children and my own daughter, with our parents (mixed opinions were given, sometimes a bit too harshly) and with our friends. We booked the appointment and waited. We were excited and apprehensive and I felt that this was a special journey for us to take together as a couple.
Bearing in mind the odds were against us, we remained positive. I will save The Husbands blushes and will skim over the gory details of the procedure-there are some things you don’t need to know about. I will however, tell you that only half of the reversal could be carried out (only one tube could be re-attached) so this in itself lessened our odds even further. I was starting to feel less positive about the whole thing. But I kept quiet and my doubts to myself
Following the procedure, like any, there were a list of do’s and don’ts given to us. One of these was that we were to abstain from sexual activity for 6 weeks following the op. ALL the rules were adhered to. (!)That would be one bloody expensive rule to break!
Neither the Husband or myself actually talked about the possibility of the procedure not being successful. It went through my mind A LOT; it must have gone through his too. I suppose we each kept quiet, so as not to scare or worry each other.
Well, as I am sure you can gather, the procedure WAS successful and almost eleven months after the operation was carried out I gave birth to my miracle girl. I am fully aware of just how lucky we were. I know many couples go through so much to have their own child. I know we were very blessed.
But she nearly didn’t make it. My T was born two weeks prematurely by emergency Caesarean section. Unbeknown to me, I had suffered a placental abruption (a condition where the the placental lining has separated from the uterus). This is a traumatic condition which can have devastating effects on the baby, and the mum. But I didn’t know this. To be honest I didn’t even know something like this could happen. I had never even contemplated having a C-section, so didn’t know what this entailed. But looking back now it was scary, although that the time with all the midwives and registrars flying around, taking my blood-pressure, reading the print outs from the monitor, I didn’t have the opportunity to think about it. I actually felt happy, my body felt good. In my mind I was happy, I was in labour or so I thought. I do remember that I needed a wee, badly. Annoyingly though I wasn’t allowed to get off the bed. Humph!
What I wasn’t told, until the day after, was that T was in trouble. I won’t pretend to know how they knew this, because I simply don’t. However, I suppose that I realised that something was up when the senior registrar came up to me and very quickly put a consent form on my stomach and told me that they were going to be carrying out a Caesarean section; it had to be done quickly, there was no ifs or buts; “the baby” was in trouble and this was necessary. Cue the tears.
I am not sure why I started crying. I was scared I think. This had not been in my plan. This was not what I wanted. I felt like a failure.
Being wheeled into the operating theatre was the scariest I have ever been; even more than when a spider is running at me! Husband wasn’t with me. He wasn’t allowed in whilst they were carrying out the spinal block (similar to an epidural, but short term). I was terrified. Everything was completely out of my control. I am actually struggling to put into words exactly how I felt. Anxious. Terrified. Disappointed. A failure.
Goodness knows how Husband must of felt. He was allowed in once the spinal block had been completed and I was prepped.
He sat next to my head and we just held hands. Gripping onto each other. It was very tense. The nurse who was on my other side was very reassuring. He kept talking to me, and trying to lighten the mood – a very difficult task. And I was very very grateful to him.
I do not know how long we were in there for. Time didn’t seem to have much impact. But eventually, after the feeling of having a washing machine on spin cycle going on inside my stomach had stopped, T was pulled out……there was silence….a lot of low talking (this did seem to go one for long time!) I held my breath. I was thinking the worst. I could hear someone counting the time. There was no sound; no crying. Nothing. I do remember I my tears, rolling down my cheeks, running into my ears and gripping husbands hand, tight. And then she whimpered and my heart began beating again.
The relief I felt was immense. My heart was pounding so fast, but in a good way. T was fine. I think she just decided to enter the world in her own way.
Every time I watch an episode of One Born Every Minute where the Mum has to go have an emergency C-section, my heart goes out to them, and all those emotions come flooding back. T really is my miracle girl. Although it doesn’t stop her being any less annoying than her siblings.