After a lot of research and a lot of tips from experienced wearers, I strapped my teeny little man to my chest and in that moment, I felt more in love than ever before. James fell straight to sleep in his favourite place and my heart exploded with happiness. I can’t even describe the feeling, but it was as though he was back where he belonged, curled up in a ball as close to his Mummy as possible. He should have still been in my tummy at this stage, but wow, this was definitely the next best thing. From that moment, I was addicted! I wore James every single day. Some days the jobs got done, and some days they didn’t. But I didn’t care.
although the road may have been smoother for us, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t as difficult in many other ways. I’ve had a lot of parents throughout the past year say similar things to me, such as “our baby was born at 34 weeks, so definitely not as bad as others”, or “our baby was only 5 weeks early, so not really premature” and I find myself getting defensive for them! Umm, no, you were meant to carry that baby an extra 5 or 6 weeks – that’s a bloody long time that your baby was meant to grow and develop in utero. I find it upsetting that parents of late preterm babies (and even me!) feel they need to minimise the difficulty of having a baby too soon...
After my successful uterine septum resection surgery in November, I have had a period and we are currently in our first cycle of trying to conceive baby #2! I’m pretty sure I even ovulated all on my own like a big girl! We are obviously super excited but I’m going to be honest, I’ve had a few freak-out moments! Mostly, I’m worried that I won’t love my second child as much as I love James. I know this sounds silly, but after almost 2 years trying to conceive, a miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy and a scary premature birth, James is our little miracle who we thought we might never meet. I almost feel greedy for wanting to add another little babe to the mix.
Giving birth to your baby should be the best day of your life, right? It should be filled with joy and tears of happiness, not sadness. The day I gave birth to our son was not the best day of my life, but one of the worst. This is my story of placenta previa, pre-eclampsia and premature birth, and my plea to other Mumma’s to always follow your gut.
My name is Amy. I’m 28 years old and grew up in the Adelaide Hills. I’m a Registered Nurse, and I love coffee – I think these two things go hand in hand! I’m also a wife to Scott, and a Mum to a healthy, happy 20-month-old boy named James. From the outside looking in, my life is pretty textbook, and pretty perfect. And it is! But there’s a reason people say, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ – because you might miss an amazing story. And this is mine…
That night, despite the doctors and nurses best attempts to prevent it, I watched my wife experienced labour. I watched her experience the contractions and the pain, just like any other mother to be. But for me, it just didn’t feel real. Looking back, I can honestly say that even at this stage, I was still in a state of complete disbelief and I was utterly clueless as to what was happening. I had no idea about premature birth…it isn’t something they warn you about! I didn’t even realise it was possible that our baby could be delivered this early, and I certainly didn’t think it was possible that he could survive. I just didn’t believe our little boy was on his way.
Dr L had done his research and read our notes, so I didn’t have to repeat our story. He knew that we’d had a rough time and he understood that I felt ignored. We discussed the surgery and Dr L was honest…my (uterine) septum was thick, and it was challenging. One of the first things he asked me is ‘how far are you willing to go?’, but I had no idea that he meant literally....
On Monday, I finally had the diagnostic HSG (hysterosalpingogram) required to determine the success of my uterine septum resection surgery. In other words, they took some fancy pictures to check how much septum was remaining in my uterus after they had attempted to remove it. After getting into a gown and having the procedure explained, the radiographer left the room to organise her team. I sat butt-naked on the side of the cold bed feeling completely exposed thinking ‘it shouldn’t be this hard’. I was over it…the invasive procedures, the constant appointments, the poking and prodding, the clinical and sterile aspect to what was meant to be a natural part of life. I felt like an experiment. Sitting here writing this now, I can feel the same heaviness in my chest and the lump in my throat as when I was sitting in that cold, empty room fighting back the tears.
Yesterday I woke up before the sun to get ready for my hysteroscopy +/- laparoscopy to finally get some answers on my uterus. At this stage I wasn’t feeling nervous, I was even joking with Scott about how this might be the last time he saw me (dramatic much?) My Mum had taken James the night before, and mostly we missed waking up to him. So we stood in the bathroom watching videos of him giggling before Scott went to work. I packed a hospital bag but was adamant I would be breaking out that night. My heart would literally break into pieces if I didn’t see James all day, and then they’d have to do another operation to stick that back together. So yes, I was coming home that day.
Scott and I have recently been deliberating over whether we would once again share our journey to pregnancy (and beyond) through my blog. I knew I would be writing it all down like last time as a way of coping with my emotions and processing what we are going through (and to save Scott from my emotional outbursts every 5 minutes), but I was unsure if I would share it immediately considering the likelihood that something might go wrong. But last week I received a message from a Mum who has been following our journey since I shared my first ever blog about infertility. She said my posts were inspirational during their struggle to conceive, and she has coincidentally just found me again through Miracle Mumma after having her twins prematurely. Suddenly, all of our reservations disappeared - this was the confirmation we needed to share every step of our journey forward with you all…be prepared for a ‘hot mess’ overshare of everything from timed intercourse to vaginal mucous. As I always say…if our story reaches just one person who is going through something similar and is up at night googling for hope, it is all worth it.
When you give birth to a baby prematurely, the final goal is taking your baby home – that’s what it’s all about. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel, it’s what you focus on every single day to get you through. For me, I let myself believe that when James came home from hospital, it was the end of the rollercoaster journey we had been flung onto. I was looking forward to finally having some semblance of a normal newborn life with my family. I wasn’t at all prepared for the ongoing concerns and anxieties that follow having a premature baby.
Our 30-weeker and inspiration for Miracle Mumma, James, recently turned ONE! We got some beautiful photos and I thought this would be the perfect time to introduce my family & our story to my new followers. Most of my recent followers would have subscribed to our website via an article or news story, so you may already know the basics. I will give another quick run-down on these, and then tell you some things about us you probably wouldn’t know.
After a lot of research and a lot of tips from experienced wearers, I strapped my teeny little man to my chest and in that moment, I felt more in love than ever before. James fell straight to sleep in his favourite place and my heart exploded with happiness. I can’t even describe the feeling, but it was as though he was back where he belonged, curled up in a ball as close to his Mummy as possible. He should have still been in my tummy at this stage, but wow, this was definitely the next best thing. From that moment, I was addicted! I wore James every single day. Some days the jobs got done, and some days they didn’t. But I didn’t care.
although the road may have been smoother for us, it doesn’t mean it wasn’t as difficult in many other ways. I’ve had a lot of parents throughout the past year say similar things to me, such as “our baby was born at 34 weeks, so definitely not as bad as others”, or “our baby was only 5 weeks early, so not really premature” and I find myself getting defensive for them! Umm, no, you were meant to carry that baby an extra 5 or 6 weeks – that’s a bloody long time that your baby was meant to grow and develop in utero. I find it upsetting that parents of late preterm babies (and even me!) feel they need to minimise the difficulty of having a baby too soon...
After my successful uterine septum resection surgery in November, I have had a period and we are currently in our first cycle of trying to conceive baby #2! I’m pretty sure I even ovulated all on my own like a big girl! We are obviously super excited but I’m going to be honest, I’ve had a few freak-out moments! Mostly, I’m worried that I won’t love my second child as much as I love James. I know this sounds silly, but after almost 2 years trying to conceive, a miscarriage, a complicated pregnancy and a scary premature birth, James is our little miracle who we thought we might never meet. I almost feel greedy for wanting to add another little babe to the mix.
Giving birth to your baby should be the best day of your life, right? It should be filled with joy and tears of happiness, not sadness. The day I gave birth to our son was not the best day of my life, but one of the worst. This is my story of placenta previa, pre-eclampsia and premature birth, and my plea to other Mumma’s to always follow your gut.
My name is Amy. I’m 28 years old and grew up in the Adelaide Hills. I’m a Registered Nurse, and I love coffee – I think these two things go hand in hand! I’m also a wife to Scott, and a Mum to a healthy, happy 20-month-old boy named James. From the outside looking in, my life is pretty textbook, and pretty perfect. And it is! But there’s a reason people say, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover’ – because you might miss an amazing story. And this is mine…
That night, despite the doctors and nurses best attempts to prevent it, I watched my wife experienced labour. I watched her experience the contractions and the pain, just like any other mother to be. But for me, it just didn’t feel real. Looking back, I can honestly say that even at this stage, I was still in a state of complete disbelief and I was utterly clueless as to what was happening. I had no idea about premature birth…it isn’t something they warn you about! I didn’t even realise it was possible that our baby could be delivered this early, and I certainly didn’t think it was possible that he could survive. I just didn’t believe our little boy was on his way.
Dr L had done his research and read our notes, so I didn’t have to repeat our story. He knew that we’d had a rough time and he understood that I felt ignored. We discussed the surgery and Dr L was honest…my (uterine) septum was thick, and it was challenging. One of the first things he asked me is ‘how far are you willing to go?’, but I had no idea that he meant literally....
On Monday, I finally had the diagnostic HSG (hysterosalpingogram) required to determine the success of my uterine septum resection surgery. In other words, they took some fancy pictures to check how much septum was remaining in my uterus after they had attempted to remove it. After getting into a gown and having the procedure explained, the radiographer left the room to organise her team. I sat butt-naked on the side of the cold bed feeling completely exposed thinking ‘it shouldn’t be this hard’. I was over it…the invasive procedures, the constant appointments, the poking and prodding, the clinical and sterile aspect to what was meant to be a natural part of life. I felt like an experiment. Sitting here writing this now, I can feel the same heaviness in my chest and the lump in my throat as when I was sitting in that cold, empty room fighting back the tears.
Yesterday I woke up before the sun to get ready for my hysteroscopy +/- laparoscopy to finally get some answers on my uterus. At this stage I wasn’t feeling nervous, I was even joking with Scott about how this might be the last time he saw me (dramatic much?) My Mum had taken James the night before, and mostly we missed waking up to him. So we stood in the bathroom watching videos of him giggling before Scott went to work. I packed a hospital bag but was adamant I would be breaking out that night. My heart would literally break into pieces if I didn’t see James all day, and then they’d have to do another operation to stick that back together. So yes, I was coming home that day.
Scott and I have recently been deliberating over whether we would once again share our journey to pregnancy (and beyond) through my blog. I knew I would be writing it all down like last time as a way of coping with my emotions and processing what we are going through (and to save Scott from my emotional outbursts every 5 minutes), but I was unsure if I would share it immediately considering the likelihood that something might go wrong. But last week I received a message from a Mum who has been following our journey since I shared my first ever blog about infertility. She said my posts were inspirational during their struggle to conceive, and she has coincidentally just found me again through Miracle Mumma after having her twins prematurely. Suddenly, all of our reservations disappeared - this was the confirmation we needed to share every step of our journey forward with you all…be prepared for a ‘hot mess’ overshare of everything from timed intercourse to vaginal mucous. As I always say…if our story reaches just one person who is going through something similar and is up at night googling for hope, it is all worth it.
When you give birth to a baby prematurely, the final goal is taking your baby home – that’s what it’s all about. It’s the light at the end of the tunnel, it’s what you focus on every single day to get you through. For me, I let myself believe that when James came home from hospital, it was the end of the rollercoaster journey we had been flung onto. I was looking forward to finally having some semblance of a normal newborn life with my family. I wasn’t at all prepared for the ongoing concerns and anxieties that follow having a premature baby.
Our 30-weeker and inspiration for Miracle Mumma, James, recently turned ONE! We got some beautiful photos and I thought this would be the perfect time to introduce my family & our story to my new followers. Most of my recent followers would have subscribed to our website via an article or news story, so you may already know the basics. I will give another quick run-down on these, and then tell you some things about us you probably wouldn’t know.
