From the moment I found out I was pregnant, I loved it.
I was very lucky with no morning sickness and generally feeling really well. At 29+1, I rang Maternity Triage due to incredibly itchy hands and feet. They diagnosed me with severe cholestasis and told us it could bring on preterm labour. However, there were no signs of this so we were sent home to enjoy the rest of my pregnancy.
Our little girl entered the world 10 weeks early weighing 3lb 10oz. I had been in hospital for 3 days prior to this after my waters broke at 29+4 weeks. My husband stayed every day 8am until 10pm (or whenever he was kicked out) and we watched her heartbeat on the monitor every four hours. We got past the 48 hour danger zone on the Saturday so we thought Little Legs was staying put for a few more weeks.
There was no hospital bag packed. There was no birth plan.
My little girl and I both nearly lost our lives during the birth but we both survived thanks to the midwives, nurses, consultants and doctors that were present. We got to hold our baby for ten seconds (in her plastic bag and blue hat) and give her a kiss before she was whisked away. Thanks to the staff at the hospital, we knew what to expect (it didn’t make it any easier or less terrifying) as, on admission to hospital, a neonatal doctor spoke to us and we were able to go and visit the ward … just incase.
Our beautiful girl was taken to the Neonatal Unit and spent five weeks there. After those five weeks, we were transferred to the Special Baby Care Unit at another hospital for a further two weeks.
The ride in the ambulance was the LONGEST journey! However, I had the most wonderful Neonatal Doctor in the back with me, holding my hand and checking on my girl.
During her seven weeks in hospital, Florence endured a lot: she was in an incubator; she had surfactant put down her lungs; she was on CPAP, high flow and low flow; she had a cannula in; she was fed through a tube; she was under the jaundice lights; she had countless blood gases done; her eyes were tested for ROP.
We didn’t know what she looked like for two days due to her CPAP mask and we didn’t get to see her whole face for six weeks because of her tubes.
We were only allowed to hold her (with the help and permission of the nurses) for 30 minutes a day at the beginning due to her wires and tubes – some days we didn’t hold her at all due to her breathing and being terrified we would knock a tube when she was relying on it. We changed nappies, fed her and took her temperature through the portholes of her incubator.
As she got stronger, she was put into cot and allowed to wear clothes (although we didn’t have anything that was small enough). We spent every day sat by her, dreading the sound of her monitor beeping, stroking her face and just watching her chest go up and down. We passed the time talking about all the things we couldn’t wait to do – the main one being going for walks with her furry big sister.
We spent every night feeling helpless and were constantly terrified of the phone ringing with a No Caller ID.
The heartbreaking truth was that the moments that were meant to be the happiest were also the hardest. Our joy collided with pain on a daily basis and we struggled to answer the question, ‘what is parenthood like?’ All we knew was that our little girl was here, she was fighting with all she had and she was absolutely perfect.
We owe everything to the staff on both wards. Throughout our hospital stay, not only was our girl looked after, we were also cared for and supported by these amazing angels. They were always on hand to answer questions, offer advice and give hugs when they were needed. The nurses put up with 4am phone calls every night and made the time to send us VCreates in the early hours. They taught us how to tube feed, change her probe, draw up medication and guided us through her first bath.
After 47 days in hospital, we got to bring our girl home! She met her furry big sister and it was everything I had ever dreamed of. The support carried on at home through our Community Nurse and Health Visitor and we were so grateful for this.
About 9 months after being home, my emotions and mental health were struggling.
The feeling of guilt was overwhelming: why did my body fail my little girl? What did I do wrong? Would she be better off without me? I reached out to Leo’s and within days I was talking to Katie on the phone. We arranged meetings and more phone calls, with her coming and setting up sensory play for Flo at home. I expected the trauma of what we went through to fade and was cross with myself that it wasn’t.
Katie made me understand that all my feelings were normal and I was not to blame. I don’t say this lightly … Katie saved me. My little girl is two now and Katie is still in my corner, supporting me, reaching out and checking in.
Throughout this journey, we have met the most incredible people and had the honour of watching other babies grow and thrive. We are also now well-versed in a range of medical terms and vocabulary! Words cannot describe our gratitude to all of the people who have been on this journey with us and who have supported us fiercely.
Florence has truly shown us what it means to be strong and we are forever proud of our NICU warrior. We feel blessed every single day that we got to bring her home.
To NICU parents:
Ask the questions – to the medical staff, to other parents who’ve been through it.
Take photos and videos of everything – moving into a cot, first bottle feed, first time wearing clothes.
Support each other, always.
Allow yourself to feel all the feelings … you don’t have to be ‘ok’ all the time (in fact, it’s impossible!)
You can be thankful your baby is here but also grieve what you didn’t experience.
Reach out because you will be positively overwhelmed with the people who are there for you.
Join communities where you can ask questions that your friends who have babies might not get or understand.
