Story1

This is just a short story for someone who is helping me with an idea that I am working on. I thought I would post it on here for those family members who may not know our story completely. Cheers!


I wanted a baby from the moment I married Steve. I knew that we would make great parents and that we would be everything we could to our children. By no means perfect but we would try our hardest.  At first we waited "sensibly" and after a year or so we decided to start trying for a baby. Be patient everyone said it doesnt always happen right away. So we were patient. Eventually we decided to find out why it was taking so long and were told that I have poly cystic ovary syndrom and that I don't ovulate. I was given the oportunity to go through fertility treatment. It must have been a God thing because I got pregnant within a week of taking the treatment. I had such a healthy and happy pregnancy I loved every moment of it...I was brave and ladylike through the first bit when I couldnt eat. I rejoiced over every step hearing her heartbeat, seeing her little bean like shape and then her little alien form on the screen. Then finding out she was a she! We talked to her all the time, I rubbed her little bottom and told her all of my hearts desires and hopes for her. I danced and played music for her. We would watch tv and she would do cartwheels at the sounds of the people's voices. I loved being pregnant. At 28 weeks I had my checkup and all was positive, my weight was going steady, her size was going well, and my belly button was proudly sticking as far as it could go out! We were going to have a baby. We didnt realize that this baby would show up on my birthday nearly 3 months early. I woke early that morning with cramps and still being asleep wandered to the loo and somehow in a daze realized I hadnt gotten my period but that I had in fact lost my plug and that I was bleeding heavily.  I panicked and screamed to Steve to call an ambulance. This whole time all I desperately wanted was to feel her move,  some sign that she was still alive. As the paramedic got to our house I went down and sat on the couch and to my amazement she lurched! She was alive. My baby was still fighting. I knew at that point I was going to have this baby that day, I could feel her moving down the birth canal. I can't imagine the terror she must have been feeling and the confusion. So they put an iv line in me and got me to the hospital. I remember so clearly stting on the bed with this disgusting scratchy blanket watching this ugly man fill out the paperwork for the hospital. I couldnt stop thinking about the germs (isnt it funny where the mind goes in a trauma experience?)  At this point I wasnt in full labour but was having twinges and still bleeding so much, when we got to the hospital it was as if Maggie knew she could come and she proceeded to claw her way down. They forced a line into me and a transfusion drip, they managed somehow to fit the cathetor (which is horrid) and then it was time I knew it was time and I was in full labour. I had no clue how to have a baby, it wasnt time and I was in my oversized tshirt and didnt even have a scrunci, I hadnt shaved my legs and my toenails were all different shades of red. BUT Maggie was comming. At some point a nurse said to me "it's ok to swear sweetheart even ladies do it sometimes" but instead I started Mooing, I think it was mooing...not sure. Towards the end they said I could have as much gas  as I wanted that it wouldnt hurt the baby so I wouldnt let go of it. Steve had to pry it out of my mouth. All the while Maggie was still clawing her way out. Eventually it was time...the most terrifying and refreshing feeling when my water broke and out came that tiny tiny lump...all I could see was her hair. She had soo much hair. She was born straight into a ziplock bag to keep her temperature and she was taken away from me instantly. I still can't discuss this without getting upset because what mother expects to have their daughter torn away from them so suddenly without being able to touch them? Or even see them. Steve was allowed to take a picture on his phone for me to see and then they wisked her off.  I was put on a drip and given a plasma transfusion. It was at this time that I realized I might die. The whole time I was in labour I hadnt thought about all the fluids I had been losing and all the blood I had lost. The Dr.s had a word with each other and left me to rest while I had my 3 hour dose of blood and fluids.  My recovery was a miracle in itself because there was such a chance of me not making it and I was up and around so quickly afterwards. My main goal was to find my baby.  It was 3 days before I was allowed to hold her, and a day before I could touch her. I was made to stay at the hospital maternity wing for a week so they could moniter me, but it gave me a chance to stay with Maggie or at least next to her isolete.  She was such a huge fighter, she gave it everything she could from the word go. She had people around the world praying for her and was so strong. Everyone was in love with her. There wasnt anything she couldnt do and despite being born so early she was perfect...just very small. She was so small that a nappy/diaper was far too big and so they used a cotton ball around her. Every day we would sing to her, pray over her, read to her, and watch her grow. We got to know some amazing people in the nurses and doctors who looked after her and grew to consider them family. Maggie eventually was strong enough to move to a different hospital and was put into the nursery. Therer were a few hiccups and a few times where infection came into play but again GOD had his hand over her. My boss woke up at the very moment she as having problems and knew to pray for Maggie. People sent me emails saying they felt led to pray for Maggie and stand in the gap for her at different times...times when she really needed it. She began to thrive and we were told she could go home. She went home in November and has been home since. She has gradually grown stronger and stronger, she has thrived, and is becoming her own little self. Sometimes I look at her and it takes me breath away because although she looks like a slightly small 17month old there is nothing to say what she has been through and yet I know that she is a miracle...my miracle. My fighter and my perfect gift.