My name is Katherine and this is my story of birthing my beautiful twin girls.
I was only 18 a month before I fell pregnant with them. From 2 weeks on I was horrendously sick, right up until I was roughly 24 weeks.
When I was 28 weeks pregnant with them, I was diagnosed with Cholostasis. They put me on the Urso (a medication) but the itching was horrible. Then when I went in for my 30 week scan I was told pretty much then and there that my little Sophie was breech and she was at the bottom and unless they changed I wouldn’t have a hope in having a natural. That same day I was told neither of them were growing… in fact, losing weight.
I was to go in for an appointment the week after. That appointment was the start of my horrendous last few weeks of pregnancy.
I was admitted to hospital with pre eclampsia and anemia. While anemia is pretty common, I was getting pretty sick with the pre eclampsia. I just wanted to go home. I stayed in for roughly five days when they finally let me go home.
I was home one night… when the next morning I woke up with horrendous back pain and pain across my tummy… I thought I was in labour! So back to the hospital I went. I was readmitted and put on iron tablets, a higher dose of Urso and about 3 different blood pressure medications. I was told I would be in hospital until I gave birth.
As I was having twins and they were quite small, I was told they would be in Neonatal care for a little bit. About a week and a half after being readmitted, I proceeded to have my tour of the neonatal ward. Half way there I collapsed.
I don’t really remember much until I was down in the delivery ward… where they decided they were going to prep me for surgery. They put me on magnesium sulphate through an old drip which was excruciating, some of the worst pain I’ve felt in my life, so they literally had to rip it out and start all over again. They wanted to put a catheter in. I’ve never sobbed so much in my life, at the thought of getting one. Anyone would have thought that I was in natural labour!
Right up until this stage I was alone, all alone. A bit after that, my partners mum walked into the room… I was so terrified. I was so scared of surgery, so scared of anaesthetic … and so, so scared… of finally being a mother.
When all my drips were in, my fluids were up and my catheter inserted they wheeled me down to theatre with my mother in law and father in law.
They attempted to give me an epidural… they missed 8 times and on the ninth, as much as I wanted to be awake, I gave in. My body couldn’t cope… I was a mess… When finally they said, we are going to put you under, I broke down. What if I could feel the surgery? What if something happened? What if I didn’t wake up? As my mother in law was walked in, she and I both in tears as I was laid on the operating table, my arms literally pinned down. I fought the anaesthetic as much as I could. I could feel the burning sensation from the toes up.
I woke up in Intensive Care.
It was the scariest thing I’d experienced. All I wanted was to see my babies, but I wasn’t allowed too… I saw photos of my partner’s parent’s phone and even then I vaguely remember them as I was so out of it.
The next day, around lunch time… one of the neonatal nurses brought down four photos of my babies, two of each. My little Sophie and my little Clarabelle.
It was so, so hard, because all I had were pictures. I couldn’t hold them. Later on that night, about 8pm, I was finally being told I was going back to my room in maternity. But I didn’t want that, I WANTED to see my children.
So after much argument that I was way too sick, they wheeled my bed into the Neonatal care centre and brought my tiny babies that were born at 33 weeks and 4 days out to me in their humidity cribs. I was only just barley allowed to touch them. I just wanted to hold them. It hurt so much to yearn for something I wasn’t allowed.
Later on that night, a nurse came into me and told me that if I woke up during the night, buzz them and they would help me hand express. I woke around 3, so I called. The nurse mentioned if I could get out of bed she would take me to them. I was so determined… as much pain as I was in. I was wheeled to them and I finally got to hold them, my little Sophie Anastasia and Clarabelle Maree.
Although they were in hospital for another 23 days, the day I brought them home was the best day of my life…
I hated the way I gave birth… But I’d do it again for my children. Even though it brings tears to my eyes even typing this.