16 Nov And though she be but little she is fierce

It seems like such a blur now…over twelve months on. But it is something, a moment in time, I will never forget. September 22nd 2014 was both the best and worst day of my life. The two days leading up to this I had been 6 hours away from home walking an archery range with my partner and step son. I had to wee…a lot! And I had a niggling back pain. But who doesn’t do those or have those things when they’re 33 weeks pregnant. The drive home was very painful. I remember looking over at my partner with tears in my eyes as I drove the trip home because he was ‘tired’. I remember wanting to stab him for being too tired to drive even though I was in pain. I called my mother in law- “Oh it’s just braxton hicks, it will pass!” She was the closest thing I had to family at that time. My whole family was in Bali at my cousins wedding. We got home after the six hour haul and I remember laying in bed and the pain had subsided. Such a relief. I woke the next day feeling great! I had a jump in my step and my Mum had called from Bali as we were eating breakfast. An hour later who would know that I’d be screaming after my hot shower to be taken to the hospital.
33 weeks…I kept thinking. I’m only 33 weeks. It’s just back pain. It’s just braxton hicks. I entered the Emergency part of the hospital and was greeted by a nurse who could see the pain and worry in my eyes. She wheeled me immediately to maternity in a wheelchair where I was assessed and told “You’ll be having this baby today!” I was already 9cm dilated and there was no turning back.
So many emotions were running through my head. I was so scared. I was so worried. I missed my Mum. I was only 33 weeks. Three hours later and Indiana Flame entered the world weighing just 2.2kg. She got quickly taken from me as soon as I had her and assessed by a team of doctors. I got up, showered and went to the nursery as fast as my wobbling gas legs could carry me. “Can we see her?” No. No. No. That was the answer we got for the next two hours. “How is she?” We will check. We will check. We will check. Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
Finally we were allowed to enter the special care nursery where our tiny bundle of joy was laying still has a rock under heat lights, hooked up to tubes and machines with a mask over her face to help her little immature lungs get oxygen. Her chest was pumping a million miles an hour. It was heart breaking. She was born at 3:27pm and we were told that they would make a decision at midnight on whether she would be transferred to John Hunter Hospital by medical flight. That’s all well and good to transfer, but I was told that depending on the weight limit of the plane I may need to drive myself down to that particular hospital- five hours away.
Thankfully the locum doctor on duty fought his hardest and we were able to stay in our local hospital. Her progress was up and down for days. One day she was perfect, the next she was going backwards and fast. There were many occasions where we thought she would have to be transferred.
My family cut their Bali holiday short and returned home. Thank goodness. All I wanted was my own mum.
So many people say “Oh, lucky you. An early baby means a small baby and an easy delivery.” These people have truly no idea. The emotional and physical effects on yourself and your child during this time are horrible. There was a point where I would get so mad at mothers whinging about their crying baby keeping them up all night or whinging about how uncomfortable they were at full time… that was something I had craved. All I wanted was to be at home. At home with my newborn baby. Like every other mother that had come through the hospital maternity door.
It is not until you’ve had a preemie baby that you fully understand the extent of it. I was lucky that my best friend was with me…literally every step of the way. When you and your friend turn up to coffee dressed the same, one may put it down to good taste. When you and your friend message each other to share your pregnancy secret at 6 weeks, one may put it down to good timing (no we didn’t plan it). I believe that Lesley & I being pregnant together and crazily due on the same day, was an act of fate and one of those meant to be moments. Clearly neither of us made it to our due date- Indiana born 7 weeks early and Jaxx born 9 weeks early. They say you are never given more than you can handle- Lesley and I had to draw on strength we never knew we had. How glad I am that in my happiest yet darkest hours in the SCN I had my best friend right next to me every step of the way. Our babies were both born preemie, but are still both the toughest little fighters we know.
My daughter is now 13 months old and people still ask why she hasn’t hit certain milestones. To be honest- it’s none of their business. But if they had a preemie, they would know and understand that preemie babies are calculated for the first two years from their DUE DATE. Not their actual birth date. So technically in the land of medicine, my daughter is only 11 months old. She is currently thriving and the happiest, smartest and most loved little girl I know.