My waters broke at 2am on Saturday
morning. I was 28 +5 weeks pregnant.
For some reason I knew straight away
what had happened and that it wasn't
good. It was probably due to the fact
that it was a gush rather than a
trickle, so no real danger of
confusing it with anything else. I
got out of bed to go to the bathroom
to grab a towel, waking my husband up
with the news "something's wrong". We
were staying with his parents that
night, but luckily were closer to the
hospital than we would have been if we
were at home. It wasn't great having
to tell them what had happened.
Sometimes it is easier to manage your
own stress than other peoples. Oddly
enough though, I felt strangely
calm.
We went to the Accident and Emergency
department who sent me straight up to
the Maternity Assessment Unit.
Despite it being the middle of the
night it was busy - the waiting room
full of women in various stages of
labour. There seemed to be only one
midwife who was dashing about between
the waiting room, the examination
rooms and other parts of the building,
prioritising who needed her most. We
sat patiently waiting until someone
came to ask what was wrong. When they
heard that I was 28 weeks and my
waters had broken they looked a bit
horrified and were very apologetic
they hadn't seen to me sooner. They
seemed to be a bit sceptical that my
waters had broken, but after I showed
them the now drenched towel that I had
wrapped around myself like a nappy,
they were soon in agreement.
The next few hours were a bit of a
blur- I recall being hooked up to
machine to monitor the baby's heart
rate for what seemed like forever. I
soon got used to these machines over
the next few days, but the initial
reaction to every little beep and
momentary loss of rhythm was
terrifying. I was then seen by the
consultant on shift who explained what
was going on. I was told I could go
in to labour at any time, but it was
possible that it could take weeks.
They were certainly hoping the latter
although there was an 80% chance it
would happen in the next week. I was
given my first steroid shot and was
started on a course of erythromicin to
try to hold off any infections.
They then dropped the bombshell that I
wouldn't be able to stay at the
hospital as there was no space in the
neonatal ward for the baby once it was
born. They told me they would ring
around other hospitals to find room
for me and the baby. We were told to
wait in a nearby office while they
made a few phone calls. 6 hours later
we were still there and they had to
concede they were having some problems
finding me somewhere to go. I was
admitted to a ward so I at least had a
bed to lie on, and waited. It wasn't
until lunch time the following day I
got the news that I was to be
transferred to a hospital on the other
side of London. I was grateful that
at least I would still be in London
and not transferred to another part of
the country.
The new hospital was much smaller and
clearly not so well equipped, but the
staff were friendly and seemed to know
what they were doing. They told me
that they would have to take me off
the antibiotics as it was their
hospital's policy not to give
antibiotics in these siutations as
some research they had done had shown
it to be ineffective and possibly
damaging to the baby long-term. This
somewhat concerned me and I asked to
see a copy of the research paper.
After reading and re-reading it (and
getting my husband to do the same) we
couldn't quite understand their logic
as the paper seemed to say the exact
opposite - that in cases where waters
had broken prior to the onset on
labour, erythromicin was effective and
not damaging to the baby. We
therefore politely requested that I
stay on the antibiotics which they
agreed to.
I then waited. Every morning I woke
up grateful for the fact I hadn't gone
in to labour over night. Each day I
texted my mother on the other side of
the world and my sister in France to
give them the update. Each time there
was a shift change, a new doctor came
and gave me the same speech about what
had happened and what I could expect.
Thankfully they always said the same
thing, so I couldn't complain I didn't
know what was happening or that I was
getting mixed messages! It was at
this time that I started to have lots
of questions about what was happening -
would the baby make it? Would she
have disabilities? The problem with
having too much time on your hands. I
started googling and found this
website. It was a huge reassurance to
me that so many babies born at 28
weeks not only survive but
thrive.
5 days after my waters broke I went in
to labour. In a way it was a relief
as the hospital and the waiting was
sending me slightly mad. It turned
out to be a straightforward vaginal
delivery. I had always thought that I
would have an epidural but it happened
so quickly that all there was time for
was gas and air. Baby Hannah was born
at 29+3 weighing 3lbs. My husband and
I got to give her a quick kiss before
she was whisked away to the NICU.
Right from the start she proved to be
a real fighter. The steroids had
worked their magic on her lungs and
she didn't require any ventilation.
In fact she only needed 3 days of CPAP
before she was breathing on her own.
She spent a total of 5 weeks in
hospital to grow bigger and learn how
to feed. Once we had successfully
established breastfeefding we were
allowed home. It was strange to have
6 weeks at home with her before she
was even due. On her due date we
threw her a 0th birthday party!
Hannah is now 11 months old (8.5
months corrected) and is doing
fantastically well. She hasn't had any
health problems and is developmentally
where she should be. She has an
amazingly chilled out temperament that
I think came from having so much
thrown at her so early on. She just
takes things in her stride.
I am now thinking about our next baby.
I'm not in a massive hurry as I want
to enjoy every minute with Hannah, but
I'm not getting any younger. I don't
know why this happened in the first
place, so don't know whether it could
happen again. I did have three
occasions of bleeding in my second
trimester which may explain it. I'm
hoping I can find a doctor who can
help me answer some of the questions I
have.
Quite a long winded story but it has
been therapeutic writing it all down.
I hope that if someone else is lying
in a hospital bed somewhere reading
this, as I was 11 months ago, they
will feel reassured that probably
everything is going to be OK. Enjoy
every minute with them as they do grow
up so fast!
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