Emmas Brain Meet Kyle and Jackie O Part One

I started to write this post, and as it happens, it became long winded... but very necessary.
Write when you can write... right?

I promise I will get to the Kyle and Jackie O in my bikini bit... but for you to understand why I did it, I need to explain a few things first.....



Bear with me OK?

My pregnancy with our Adorable Princess Red head was not smooth sailing.

It was rife with drama.. early labour... bleeding, Inter uterine Growth Retardation, The list went on.
Every day from 32 weeks I would pick up my bag, head over to the Wonderful Ladies at the Fetal Monitoring Untit at Liverpool Hospital./ and Campbelltown FMAU.
These women are saints.
They would gel up my belly and we would listen to the soothing thumpity thump thump of our little unborn and I would breathe a sigh of relief, I would pick up my bag and I would go home.

I would have a scan every three days, the answer was always the same... "We can't find the reason your baby isn't growing... but there is one... hold tight and we will get there"

At 33 +2 weeks I left the scanning room, dark like a movie theatre, and we waited for the Doctor to come out and announce his  "just hold tight.. see you in a few days........"
He didn't.
This time, there were 2 Doctors to greet us.... the look on their faces made my blood run cold, There was no "hold tight " today... it was please come in and sit down........

They wanted to discuss the possibility that our baby might  have a chromosomal abnormality, most likely downs... Did we want a definitive test?

The test came with risks of premature labour, and infection and we could not get the results for a few weeks, in which time they suspected the baby would have made his or her arrival anyway.

Here.. have a pamphlet.

What?

No!....... Leave me alone... Leave my baby alone. I am going home.

After a few teary calls to my wonderful sister the midwife, it was decided that "that kind of news was much easier for me to  take when I was holding Him/her,..... looking at him/her.

I spent the next very sleepless week having thoughts I never thought I would have... very selfish thoughts.
"This is the rest of my life"......." What will I do?"," I have two other children... how will I cope?"...
And a few I am too ashamed to write.

eight days later I'd had a gut full... The worry and the sleepless night were taking their toll, Our baby had not grown any in the last fortnight.

Counting fetal movements all day,... waiting for the next thumpity thump thump were taking their toll.

The monitoring was comforting.. But a lot can happen in 24 hours....right?

The wonderful doctors at Campbelltown hospital were fantastic.

I was booked in for a Csection in two days time, enough was enough.
A C section was deemed necessary... as we didn't know the state of the baby, or weather or not he/she would cope with  labour.

Bring it on.

The night before, Baby eve.... I stared at the piles of baby things in the corner of the room... I had been too terrified to open anything.. to assemble anything, couldn't bear it if I were to come back home.... alone.

I finished my thoughts.. I acknowledged them and I looked forward... Tomorrow I would meet my baby.

I tried to be excited about all he things I should be excited about.. but all the usual thoughts... a boy or girl... what will my baby look like?  were stained with what will be wrong..... How will I react? what am I going to do.
The torment of not knowing was also strangely comforting. I didn't know, I didn't have to deal... right?

at 4 minutes past eight AM. Our Princess made her arrival... screaming and perfect.... all 5lb's of her.


It turns out I had a rather large ovarian cyst, the pregnancy hormones had been feeding the cyst rather than our little princess, and it had managed to hide behind my bladder in every fricken scan.
The cyst has strangulated my ovary and part of it was removed.

Every thing was alright.... right?

I should have felt relieved.. I should have felt ... something right?

The numbness eventually gave way to a rising panic.

I stared at my perfect little newborn curling and stretching in her plastic bed.. I loved her. and she was perfect... wasn't she?.... panic rising.

The panic was unbearable... sleep didn't come.

Do you know that feeling you get when you drop something large, heavy and loud... in Emma's brain it is saucepans and glass..... and you brace, waiting for the crash...

Pic From here
                    


That is how I felt, only the crash never came. Just hour after hour of  bracing tension.

Sleep evaded me, for the following six weeks, I didn't dream, I didn't rest, My mind NEVER stopped...
my appetite left soon after sleep...

No sleep and No sustenance, fluctuating hormones. A dangerous combination.

I lay in bed ... it is about three in the morning.

I was listening to every little breath my princess took, straining my eyes in the half dark to watch the rise and fall of her tiny little chest.

"She was OK... remember... sleep............." over and over I would repeat it.
Sleep never came.

My husbands worried face every day tried to coax me to eat, try to get some sleep...
I looked back at him disgusted,...
disgusted that he was enjoying our little princess the way I should have been, I hated that she would curl up contented and tiny on his chest and they would both nap... that was my job... and he was doing it better than me.
I hated that I felt like a foreigner in my own body.. where did I go... I hated myself and surely he would hate me too when he figured out what a horrible person... what a failure I had become.
I didn't care... I hated him first.

Strange things start to happen when you don't sleep,... when you don't eat.

I heard train announcers in my bedroom.... you know the annoying guy with the baritone voice... "the next train to arrive on platform 2 goes to crazy town"

This made the bracing worse... this isn't right.... If I know this isn't right... it means I'm not crazy..... right?

I said nothing.

I heard a song Playing... I think it was kings of Leon the next night, I woke my husband and asked... "can you hear that?"
Hear what he replied... "The song!" I said.  ... shhh ......  ..listen... I could still hear it,  playing as though the band were right next to me.

"I can't hear anything... go to sleep" He replied.

It was at that moment the bracing tension stopped.... the crash came, and with it...... everything came tumbling down.

"you arsehole... I remember saying...."you can hear it.. you just want me to think I am a crazy bitch"

I don't remember everything... but I will never forget the look on his face... the panic was on his face now... the confusion was with him.... the fear in his eyes mirrored my own.......... That look to him mean... what the fuck is going on....... That look to me said... you ARE a crazy bitch.

He said nothing and walked out of the room.

He then did all he knew to do in such a serious situation.

He called My dad.


My Dad.... spent a lot of time in the sixties, but he is also a Registered nurse, and Clinical nurse specialist.
Sureley he would know what to do.

My dad came over, took the kids for a walk... all three of them *bless* and made me a doctors appointment.

There is something strangely comforting about handing it all over to parents.

This lead to my encounter with the awesomely understanding, wonderful pill prescribing DR Sunshine Returner.

It was a long road...
Dr sunshine, who as it turns out spent just as much time in the sixties as my dear old dad, among other things, encouraged me to write down what I was feeling, in song form, as though I were singing it about somebody else.
 
I sum it up like this, with a line from that song.

I cant see the sun, but I know its there,  I saw it once............ but I'm still waiting.



Thanks for bearing... I will get to the Kyle and Jackie O bikini bit Part 2 I promise....


Emma xx

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