The Complications Chapter - The Birth Story

With all going well at our 32-week scan, we still had a few things to wrap up at home in preparation for the little human about to join our household in 8 weeks. That weekend, we built the crib, our compactum arrived, and I started organising all the clothes we got from our baby shower. Because she was a late January baby, and with all the December holidays, we had our baby shower very early — in November.

I spent time in the pool to survive the December heat, we were socialising — everything felt very normal.

That Tuesday, I remember not feeling babs as much as I usually did. I messaged a friend to ask, “So... when do we become paranoid about not feeling baby?”. I’m known to be an anxious person, so she told me to eat some chocolate, take a nap, and just relax.

I continued organising clothes, nesting, and went about my week.

Wednesday was normal.

Thursday was a stressful day — I had a final presentation for my part-time studies. Again, things were quiet.

I went through the list:

1. Eat chocolate — she has a sweet tooth like her mom… quiet.

2. Lie on my side — maybe she needs a nap on a stressful day… quiet.

After my presentation, I told my partner I wasn’t comfortable with how still she’d been. I said I’d try a few more things to get her to move, and if nothing worked, we’d head to the hospital — even if it meant a late-night visit.

3. Eat a jelly cup — we love a jelly cup… quiet.

4. Take a shower… quiet.

5. Lie down and get ready for bed, to take my nightly belly video… quiet.

6. Dad comes to talk to her… quiet.

7. 
   

And just like that, things weren’t textbook anymore.

We were in the car at 22:30 heading to the L&D ward. I emailed my doctor to ask if I was being dramatic — but we were already on our way. They hooked me up to a monitor to check both our heartbeats and her movements. Everything looked mostly normal, but she was showing decreased movement. We went home at 01:00 with instructions to return during daylight for a follow-up scan.

All morning, I kept thinking I was being paranoid. She’s fine. It’s just me. This is a textbook, run-of-the-mill pregnancy. I'm overreacting.

So many thoughts were racing through my mind — all of them telling me I was the problem, and we’d do a scan and she’d be 100%.

At 09:00, they hooked me up again. I lay there for an hour. All good.

The nurse went to call the doctor with the results — and just then, our little alien pulled a stunt. Her heart rate dropped into the 80s (a baby’s heart rate should be around 130+ bpm).

My gynae’s stand-in — not a stranger, but not my gynae — came in and told me: It’s go time. Baby is coming out by Sunday at 33 weeks and 5 days. She’s not happy in there anymore.

I was in complete shock. I cried. What does she mean? The baby can’t come out — it’s too early. She isn’t ready.

I couldn’t call my partner — he was in a job interview.

I didn’t want to panic anyone.

I sat. I cried. I tried to comprehend what was happening.

She was coming.

The gynae said we’d monitor her for 2 days, and if things improved, we could try to delay delivery by a few weeks. We asked for a sonar to see her little face, and during the scan, we saw she had low amniotic fluid. That could be the reason for the decreased movement.

Somehow, somewhere, my water had broken — or was leaking — and I hadn’t noticed. Maybe it was one of those pool days, I thought.

But she still had enough fluid to stick with the monitoring plan. She was okay.

Saturday was chaos. Of course, I hadn’t packed a hospital bag. My poor partner had to try pack one for both me and baby. A friend helped him figure it out — luckily, one thing we had ready was our village.

He brought everything to the hospital. I sent him away again — to go to our godson’s 1st birthday party, and to look for a dummy. We still had until Sunday. I was just hooked up to the machine; there wasn’t much he could do at the hospital. He left around 13:30.

At 13:45, a nurse checked the monitoring sheet. She wasn’t happy. She phoned my gynae and came back to tell me: Get ready and call Dad — it’s go time.

I still thought we had time. How quickly can an emergency c-section team be assembled?

At 14:15, I told my partner to take his time — but the nurse said, Nope, theatre is booked for 15:00.

I don’t know how he made it back in time — but he did. Like a scene out of a movie, he came running in as they were wheeling me into theatre.

And by 15:35, she was here — emergency c-section.

Just a few minutes. Not planned. Very early.

A little fighter, with a 7 APGAR score, 1.78kgs, and giving a tiny cry as she came out.

Dad went with baby. I stayed with the doctor.

My gynae told me there was clotting in my umbilical cord. If baby had stayed in any longer, the outcome could have been very different.

Off to the NICU.

Within a week, we went from having a “textbook” 32-week pregnancy to having a 33-week premature baby in NICU for an unknown period.

Listen to your instincts. You are not paranoid. You are not dramatic. Get the scan. Go for the check.

Two weeks later, I got a call from my gynae. She confirmed I had passed a blood clot in my placenta that entered the cord. If babs didn’t come out that day, she would have died.

It’s very difficult to hear something like that — to try wrap your mind around it.

She could have been gone. But she’s here. Still in hospital. But with us.

Always get the scan you don’t need rather than miss the scan you did need.