#30DaysofBrave- Day 8- Leah

I  remember the day like it was yesterday; the fear, the emotions, the smells & the sounds but it also seems like it was a million years ago with memories missing and unclear.

I was 22 years old, petrified & alone having no clue what was going on. I went to triage to be finally taken off blood pressure monitoring after weeks of tests. I had arranged to meet with my best friend afterwards for lunch and had no idea what was about to happen.

I arrived & had the usual urine test & strapped to the heart rate & BP machines. All seemed well or so i thought. The midwife came in and her face had completely changed and ran for a doctor. He came in and said I was being moved to the delivery suite. In my head I was sure he had this wrong. I rang my partner in a mood and said I’m going to antenatal ill ring you soon. I walked down the corridor and I was taken to the Critical Care unit on the delivery suite, my heart sank. I asked to use the toilet and i was told I was too unwell and had to use a bed pan - i felt absolutely fine, I was so confused. The next thing I knew I was having multiple cannula's put in and there was at least 12 members of staff in my room. The doctor told me that I was in Clampsic Shock and he was trying his best to keep me going until I was 32 weeks but I WOULD be having my baby premature. 

At that moment my partner walked through the door, still in his chef whites & completely shaken. The doctor then came over and said that unfortunately i was too unwell to continue with the pregnancy and my baby was not responding well to the medication & stress. My whole body was shaking uncontrollably. Two Neonatal doctors came down and advised us what to expect, the rate of survival for a baby of this gestation & what protocols would be involved. The main thing I remember being told was that the operating theatre may be silent as it was a possibility that my baby would not be born breathing.

The next thing I remember was being whisked down to theatre & my partner on the phone to my parents who were away on holiday. The spinal block was put in and I was lay down. Amazingly we heard a cry and a bloody loud one at that! We had a baby boy and was breathing! We were allowed a very quick photograph and then he was taken away from us to NICU. We returned to the room broken & exhausted. 

Although he was born breathing his lungs couldn't cope for long and we had the news that his left lung had collapsed. He was ventilated & had a chest drain inserted. My partner was allowed to go and see him and take a photograph to bring down to me.

The next morning I was determined that I was getting out of bed and going to see my baby. That evening I had managed to get into a wheelchair and I had my first touch of my baby boy. A touch, no cuddles, no kisses, no having him lay on my chest having the moment we all dream about. 

After 48 hours he became more unwell and we had to be transferred from Wythensawe hospital to Oldham Hospital, although still in Greater Manchester the distance felt like a million miles & I felt isolated and alone. I battled with the guilt of wanting to be home & hating myself for it, when my baby had to be here for the best chance of pulling through. Then the agonizing trials of trying to remove the chest drain and ventilation. Twice this was unsuccessful. Then came the infections, the ones they warn you about. We sat there and watched him fight for his life being completely helpless. I would have traded with him in a heartbeat and there was nothing I could do. I am his mum I’m supposed to be able to stop things from harming him. After a week his infection levels had dropped & he was off ventilation and coping well. We were finally able to move back to the hospital where he was born. He continued to improve enough to be able to receive my milk, or what I could produce. The next 6 weeks he continued to do well and we were ready to room in and trial full breastfeeding. It failed. He dropped weight and seeing my son fight for his milk after fighting for his life i couldn’t take anymore. The nighttime nurse refused to let me formula feed and I felt again broken and isolated. The nurses handed over and my next nurse came in and instantly grabbed me a bottle, he drank nearly all of it and fell into the best sleep full of windy smiles. We were signed off, CPR training completed & feeding boxed off. We were going home!!!

Over the next 5 years we were in and out of hospital, labored breathing, asthma attacks, bleeding disorders, surgeries, investigations, suspected meningitis & possible abnormal blood vessels on his brain.

Fast forward to now and he is a very happy, healthy, cheeky little boy that absolutely loves life. He is turning 6 on September 25th & he is starting Year 1 at school. 

Its been a very trying and emotional 6 years but as a family we have made it to the other side.