FEATURE
PHOEBE’S NICU JOURNEY As told by Mum, Kirsty I’ll never forget the words, “You’re going to have this baby in the next 48 hours, but probably tonight.” It had all been trucking along nicely; easy conception, no morning sickness, and barely any weight gain. A pretty smooth pregnancy. The gender reveal was planned; I was super excited for the baby shower, couldn’t wait for antenatal classes, I had slowly been purchasing cute cloth nappies and was eyeing up furniture. I had a Due Date group on Facebook and spent every spare minute googling everything and anything to do with pregnancy. My 22 week old baby was the size of a mango, how cute! Finally, I started experiencing some discomfort – pain under my ribs on the right hand side. My husband and I concluded that it was about time my body started to acknowledge this baby other than my bladder needing to be emptied 20 times in the night! Except the pain was pretty bad and I was struggling to sleep. I suspected preeclampsia but no, it was round ligament pain according to both Google and my midwife. This carried on for two weeks and then stopped. A week later Covid hit so my midwife appointment was cancelled. Lockdown didn’t bother me at all – perfect for taking naps and organising the house before the baby came! Except three days in the pain returned with a vengeance! I couldn’t sleep at night and I could barely walk. On the second day it was so unbearable I called Health Line, my GP and my midwife – she was at a delivery so her midwife partner answered. All three told me that because of Covid going to the emergency room was too dangerous, that it was still a bit early for preeclampsia and that it was likely still round ligament pain. By 3pm the pain was excruciating – thankfully my midwife answered this time and told me to go to ED. Level 4 meant no husband allowed, so I went in alone. The waiting room was empty! I was ushered straight through. Urine test revealed HELLP syndrome. “I’m sorry to tell you that you’re going to have this baby in the next 48 hours, most likely tonight. You’ll be flying to Wellington as soon as they get here. We’ll transfer you to the delivery suite in the next couple of hours and then your husband can join you.” I had a friend who had a 24 weeker and 25 weeker boys who were now 4 and 6 and they were doing great so while I was freaking out and in tears, I was naively reassuring myself
that everything was going to be fine. Text from husband a few minutes later: “Where’s the spag bol sauce?” “Top shelf in cupboard.” ….no point in telling him yet, I thought, wait until you can tell him to come to the delivery suite.
The next few hours were spent in shock. I can remember every detail of what happened right up until the cesarean but not how I felt. Drew was sent home twice by my midwife to repack, not realising at the time that we’d be in Wellington for months. Seven months! We arrived in Wellington at 1am where they were able to stabilize my blood pressure. At 3:06am on March 29, 2020 our little 525g girl was born. Some gender reveal. Wheeled away in a plastic bag and a little green hat, or so I was told – I wouldn’t see her for another 9 hours. I could have gone earlier but I didn’t want to, I’m still not sure why. “I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a breast pump!” I said to my hospital midwife as she hand expressed colostrum for me in the delivery suite. Little did I know at that point I would spend a decent part of the following 516 days attached to one. Drew and I were told that we’d be able to see her together once and then he wouldn’t be able to see her again at minimum until we were out of Level 4. I was both irate and confused. We pushed our anger aside and went
16 PALMY PARENT . PALMERSTON NORTH PARENTS CENTRE MAGAZINE
