Thursday, 16th August 2001 - Day 0

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The following are Mummy's notes on the 2 days leading up to my birth, when she had been in hospital for nearly a week. I thought these might be interesting for other Mummy's and Daddy's out there going through similar events.... No pictures I am afraid as I was not visible at this point.

It seems yesterday’s blood results were significantly worse. I feel terrible and can’t stop being sick. They won’t let me eat anything as they’ve booked me in for a liver scan 20 minutes before I’m scheduled for baby’s growth scan with Mr Duncan. I’m so hungry as I’ve nothing in my stomach. Bloods are taken again. I’m really fed up having them taken now. I think Tim and I have at last decided on a name for sproglet. She’s to be called Abigail. Mr Duncan comes to see us and says that he’s cancelled the liver scan. Today’s blood results are much worse. He thinks this may well be it but he’ll see me for the scan at 3pm. As you can imagine we are so terribly upset and cling to each other for support. We have a discussion about if I die. At the scan Mr Duncan spends two minutes rather than his usual three quarters of an hour assessment and says that I’ll be the next patient in surgery. It’s now mayhem. I’ve barely got time to phone the family to explain that in the next few hours I’ll have delivered a daughter. Will she be strong enough to survive the birth let alone the hours to come after? A very nice lady doctor, Karen Lutyn, then sees us from the Neonatel unit. She explains the facts of the problems facing a 26 week fetus and that the chances of survival are about 50%, and of those 50% will have a disability (25% severe, 25% other). Abigail’s chances may be less favourable due to her size and she will have problems with premature lung disease and will require ventilation. Other likely problems are infection, feeding problems, hypotention and that the brain tissue is very fragile at this gestation and prone to bleeding. They will however, give her every chance. Next to see me is the anaesthetist, who takes some details and preps me for surgery. They will be putting me ‘out’ as the blood results show that my ability to clot blood is poor and there is always the chance that once they cut, I will not stop bleeding so blood needs to be on standby just in case. Then I’m undressed and a doctor wheels me so fast up to the delivery suite that Tim is left following behind. I am placed on the theatre’s trolley and Tim is holding my hand, concern in his eyes. It is when they place the oxygen mask on my face that Tim crumbles and has to leave. They explain that once the anaesthetic is injected I should count to ten but it is unlikely I will get to five. Oh yeah I think I bet this won’t work on me! As the anaesthetic is injected into the drip in my arm, I start to count one, two, three and then everything goes black.

And then there was Abigail...!!!!!!!

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Last Updated : 29/11/01.