From the day we discovered we were expecting Matt we were overjoyed.  We were both hoping for a little boy and when we had our scan at 18 weeks and discovered we were indeed having a son we were both ecstatic.  Scott was so excited he made the technician show him a second time.  Every thing was going along fine until 23 weeks.  We were on holiday in another state, when I discovered I was bleeding quite a bit.  This continued until the next morning when I phoned home and spoke to my OB.  He suggested I call into a local hospital to be checked before flying home.

We weren’t really going to worry about going to the hospital as the OB assured us he thought everything was fine, but as a last minute decision we changed our mind and called into a hospital that was on the way to somewhere else we were going.

As a precaution we were sent down for a scan, which I was very excited about, afterall there isn't a new mummy that can get enough of seeing their little baby.  After checking that all was fine with the baby the technician decided to do an internal scan just to take a look, that’s when all hell broke loose.

We were told in no uncertain terms that that I was fully effaced and would probably have my baby soon and that he would have a 50/50 chance of survival.  I was told that I probably had an Incompetent Cervix which I kind of understood, however I didn't truly understand the severity of our situation.  I wasn’t allowed to walk etc and the OB down there wasn’t going to try and stop me having the baby.  We were told that we’d have to find somewhere to live down here, because if the baby survived he’d be in hospital for a long time.

We were beside ourselves and in shock.  We weren’t aloud to use our mobile phone and they didn’t see any need to contact my OB back home “as there was nothing he could do from up there”.  Eventually when everyone left the room we snuck in a call to my OB at his home and told him what had happened.

My OB thought everything was probably still ok, after all this is a rare condition !!! (how many times have we heard that), he suggested we fly home against the hospitals recommendation and come straight to see him.

On seeing my OB he did an internal and didn’t think it showed much and said we should probably do a stitch based on the scan results – he still wasn’t concerned.  When I was admitted he said I could do what ever I wanted, no restrictions !!

Next day after surgery he comes to see me and says no moving you are on strict bed rest (SBR) with only toilet and one shower a day priviledges.  He also said you might be staying in hospital till the delivery.  This from my normally very calm OB who thought everything was fine.  When he started the procedure to put in the stitch he found I had started to dilate, this meant the rescue stitch was only just holding everything together.  I found out during my pregnancy with our twins that they never actually expected the rescue to work.

After a couple of weeks, and since I had no children at home they thought I could probably go on SBR at home.  I did this, but went out occasionally and only laid or sat around.  I still really had no idea what a very scary predicament I was in.  I had not idea also what a very real chance of infection I probably had.

Anyway at 35 weeks pregnant I was allowed to come off SBR to moderate bed rest.  The next day my waters started trickling.  We went to the hospital and after my OB confirmed my waters had broken the stitch was removed.  My OB went home for a while and we were to await labour and of course delivery.  

I didn't have any monitors on, as the one they had for me seemed to be faulty. Matt's delivery seemed to be going along nicely, so I asked the nurse if I could use the bathroom.   While I was there I felt something strange and when I put my hand down I could feel something very firm (I thought it was his fist).  I called the nurse calmly as I wasn't overly concerned.  When she arrived to take a look her face became distorted in terror as she screamed at me to get up and on the bed.  My baby's umbilical cord had come out first (prolapsed) and his head was pushing down on it cutting off his oxygen and blood supply.

Of all the things I new about this was the one I didn't and maybe this was a good thing.

I was in a private hospital and it was Easter Sunday.  As there where no planned deliveries happening there were no other OB's available to perform a c-section to deliver our son.  My OB was phoned but he was 45 minutes away, this turned an emergency situation into a truly life threatening ordeal.  The poor midwife had her whole hand and half her forearm pushed into me trying to push Matt's head in and off the cord to keep him alive until he could be delivered.  I remember looking down at the midwife and seeing her covered in perspiration and looking terrified.  She later told me that she had terrible cramps in her hand from the effort of stopping the baby from delivering.  The pediatrician later told me, he wasn't sure the slightyl built midwife had the strength to continue holding the baby in, and that maybe he should try and replace her hand with his own.  This would have been very risky to execute though.  

I remember looking at the monitor and seeing my babys heart rate getting lower and lower.  A pediatrician who was there visiting another baby was found and stayed as they knew little Matt was going to need help, we just didn't know how much. 

During all of this time I was drifting in and out of consciousness, the pain of having the baby pushed back in and held there was excrutiating.  To me it felt like only moment had passed when in fact almost 45 minutes had gone by.  I had no pain medication on board so I can only guess it was the pain that made me go in and out of some state of altered consciousness.

When the doctor arrived I remember him saying we didn't have time to discuss anything and that we needed to get the baby out quickly. 

As they prepared to wheel me up to surgery, I had no clothes on, and they told me there was no time to spare to cover me up and I thought to myself they could have taken me down the Queen St Mall like that and I couldn't have cared less.  I was rushed to theatre with the midwife running behind the bed still trying to hold the baby in.

Once in theatre there was no time for anyone to change their clothes or scubb up and my doctor operated in his jeans and white shirt.  While I was still conscious I was totally prepped for surgery, my belly was painted and my OB was standing over me with the scapel in his hand.  I remember thinking boy I hope he waits till I'm asleep before he cuts me.  The OB was getting rather anxious as they were still waiting for the anaesthetist to arrive.  The same tired midwife was still down there trying to keep our baby alive.  She had to duck down under a surgical sheet to wait until the obstetrician got his hands to our little man.  I had to be given a general anaesthetic as there was no time for an epidural.  When the anaesthetist arrived I was silently begging for him to knock me out, I was in so much pain I didn't think I could stand it for another minute longer.  There was a lovely assistant holding my hand by now, trying to reassure me that everything would be ok.  My last thoughts as the mask was placed over my face was praying to God to 'please let my baby be ok'. The obsterician later told me that the midwife was unable to let go of the baby until he scooped his hand in via my belly and under the baby's head.  He said it was quite unusual for them as well.  

At 12.12pm Matt arrived still and quiet into the world, blue and floppy with an APGAR score of only 1(out of a possible 10).  He was resuscitated in the delivery room and then rushed into the special care nursery.  

The first glimse my husband had of our son was when the pediatrician ran past him with a little blue bundle on the way to the nursery.  My husband followed quickly behind and watched while they try to keep life in our little baby.  When Matt was stabilised he was transferred to a larger hospital with a higher level NICU.

I vaguely remember them giving me a glimpse of Matt before transferring him.  My husband followed Matt to the other hospital to be with him, I was really too out of it to know what was going on.  The doctor told me later that I took some convincing before I believed that the had baby survived.  I was given a photo of Matt to hold while we were apart, but it was a very surreal feeling.  On one hand I had just given birth, but there was no baby there at the hospital with me.  How was I supposed to really believe that he was ok and would he stay ok.

The following afternoon Matt was given the all clear from the bigger hospital and he was sent back to the original hospital to be with me.  He still had to remain in the special care unit due to being 5 weeks early as he wasn't feeding on his own at all.  For two weeks he was fed through a tube that went into his nose and down to his belly. 

I remember when I first held him I wondered how they knew he was my baby, silly now I guess, but I really had no motherly bond with him.  I didn't like to admit it but they could have handed me any ones baby for the lack of emotion I felt.  Thinking back later I was a little disappointed about how the nurse who was given the task of giving me my baby for the first time ever carried out her task.  She didn't say Hi Elaine I'm so and so here is your little boy...  She just handed over this unknown bundle.  Over the next few days I really battled with my feeling of overwhelming guilt.  Guilt for not feeling bonded, guilt for not being able to deliver him safely into the world. guilt because I couldn't feed him.  The doctor thought that maybe due to the trauma or who knows what my milk just never came in.  So all in all I felt like a lousy mother.  My husband was beginning to get concerned although he didn't tell me.

On about day 3 when I was starting to come off some of the pain medications I began to feel more able to mother my son.  My brain was able to take in a little more of what was going on around me and I started to want to be with little Matt constantly.  I was so relieved to have these feeling, but still dreadfully depressed over everthing that went wrong.  

It was around this time that the hospital arranged couselling for me.  The counsellor said I was suffering to a degree of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD).  The counselling helped but I continue to suffer from the emotional effects of the birth to this day.  As time passes I think about his birth to a much lessor degree, but I am still haunted by a day that started so wonderful with so much to look forward to a day that almost became our worst nightmare.   

 Today at 4 years old Matt is happy and healthy with no known effects of the pregnancy, being early or having been compromised at birth.  We continue to see a pediatrician yearly to monitor Matt's development, but so far it looks as though this is all just precautionary.  The pediatrician has told us how lucky we are and how surprised he is at how well Matt has done.  He told us birth situations like ours are a lottery.  He has seen babies with seemingly less trauma at birth not survive and then babies like Matt who appeared to have everything stacked against them turn out just fine.  If this is the only lottery we ever win, that is fine by me.

If you'd like to visit Matt's webpage click on the following link:

http://www.babiesonline.com/babies/m/matty2002/

This website is dedicated to ~Paige and Amy~ my beautiful little angel babies.