So where to begin?
Henry was conceived on the weekend of our sixth wedding anniversary in August 2020. We had always wanted a second child, but with the trials of dealing with our toddler, work and covid, it wasn’t until our daughter was nearly three that we felt ready to have another. It was our first month of trying and just like with our daughter I felt the onset of pregnancy symptoms before I even took a test. I felt pleased and so lucky that it had happened so quickly, and it felt like perfect timing. Two of my oldest friends had also just announced their pregnancies and I later found out that two of the mums I had become friends with while on maternity leave previously were also due the month before me. I started to think about all the meetups we could have on mat leave and all the things I would do “better” this time around now that I was an experienced Mum. Although I hadn’t enjoyed being pregnant with my daughter, it had medically been a textbook pregnancy and birth and this time round I felt confident that I could do it again. We had agreed this would be our final pregnancy and so I was conscious every step would be for the last time.
Soon the familiar nausea and fatigue was hitting hard, but I knew this time that the end result would be worth it. Our dating scan was scheduled for the day before my birthday and despite the second covid lockdown, my husband was able to attend. I was very aware that these scans sometimes result in bad news and my heart was in my mouth for a long few seconds before the sonographer located the baby and confirmed the heartbeat. I responded to all my birthday greetings the next day with news of our forthcoming arrival.
It was a long winter of covid restrictions and lockdowns, spending most of it in the house very busy with work and trying to entertain a three year old in poor weather and with most things shut. Even at Christmas we couldn’t spend time with our families and exchanged gifts at a service station and a country park car park. What kept me going was the knowledge that spring and summer would come, my baby would be here and eventually the world would reopen.
In the new year I had my 20 week anomaly scan and once again my husband could be present. The scan took ages and again I was silently worrying each time the sonographer concentrated until she confirmed that each organ she was looking at seemed fine. We told her we wanted to know baby’s sex and she pointed at the screen and noted that you didn’t need a sonography qualification to work out that we were having a little boy! At one point we were sent outside for a walk to get the baby to shift position - when we came back another sonographer finished the scan as the first one was running behind with her next patient. At the end the second sonographer confirmed that all looked absolutely fine with the baby but the blood flow to the placenta was slightly outside the normal range. There was no sense of concern but I was booked in for extra growth scans at 28 and 32 weeks to check that no issues were developing, as well as being referred to the consultant-led antenatal clinic. We were told that I had to attend these scans alone due to covid as they were trying to minimise the number of people in the department and were prioritising partners attending 12 and 20 week scans. Knowing that the dating and anomaly scans were the “important” ones and feeling like a scanning department pro after a whole 5 scans in my life, I completely understood and felt fine coming back by myself. I was further reassured by my friend who was one month ahead of me and had had a similar blood flow reading - her 28 week scan was fine and she had a completely healthy pregnancy.
Feeling reassured, we started to think about names and I started to buy a few more bits for the baby (we had kept most things from our daughter but there were a few extras I wanted to get along with some boy clothes). I started thinking about the birth and even joined a few facebook groups about home birth, figuring as I was “low-risk” had our daughter in the midwife-led unit (a rarity for first time mums based on those I knew on mat leave) that I had a good chance of birthing at home successfully. My first appointment at the hospital antenatal clinic was uneventful, although my blood pressure was on the high side and despite my protestations that I get “white-coat syndrome” (where the stress of being at a medical appointment elevates your blood pressure) they insisted on seeing me again in person.
I turned up for my 28 week scan and it turned out to be the same sonographer as previously. The scan was quite short and she was chatty and positive and said the baby was growing well. At the end of the scan she noted that my amniotic fluid levels were high and asked if I had already been referred to the consultants. I had my next appointment the following day and she said the doctor would talk it through with me then, but that often it was just one of those things. Then she said that she thought she could see a pocket of fluid on the baby's bowel which shouldn’t be there, pointing it out to me on the scan. At this point she said very casually that she wanted the foetal medicine team to double check it for me and put a referral through, telling me they would give me a call once they had taken a look at the images. Looking back, I suspect she knew what the diagnosis was likely to be but was conscious I was there alone and as she said, it wasn’t her place to make that call, just flag it up to the specialists. At the time she was so casual that I left the scan with nothing more than a niggling sense that I wanted to hear back from the foetal medicine team quickly to give me the (inevitable in my mind) all clear so I could fully relax.
The next day the doctor explained that there are three main causes for polyhydramnios (excess amniotic fluid) - an abnormality with the baby (rare), gestational diabetes, or sometimes no known cause. I was booked in for the dreaded GTT (glucose tolerance test) to rule out diabetes and she said we would discuss at our next appointment once I had spoken to the foetal medicine team. Again, looking back I can see she suspected more than she let on but at the time I was just annoyed at having to spend the morning in hospital for the GTT having nothing to eat and being periodically pricked for blood tests.
The morning of the GTT arrived and I got to the hospital in good time, armed with my laptop and headphones to do some work and join a meeting remotely in the breaks between blood tests. I felt fine despite the lack of breakfast or a cup of tea, and after the first blood test I swallowed the foul glucose drink and took my place in the waiting room for the next hour. I remember the lady next to me telling me she felt a bit nervous as had a history of fainting at blood tests. I overhead her also telling the nurse this as she went in, but five minutes later she was back next to me feeling fine with only a plaster on her arm to mark the experience. Then it was my turn again. The first blood had been taken from my right elbow, so this time the nurse took the blood from the back of my hand. As she did so I started to feel a little faint, which made me feel anxious and breathless, which made me feel worse…… the last thing I remember is her getting me to remove my facemask and trying to recline the chair. Then all of a sudden I was waking up on the floor with about ten people in the room and a doctor holding my legs in the air. Yes, for the first time in my life, I had fainted.
After coming round and protesting that I now felt fine, I was shipped upstairs in a wheelchair to maternity assessment to get checked out (past the lady who was worried about this happening to her!). After a short wait I was put on the heartbeat monitor and given a button to press every time baby moved. A plate of tea and toast also arrived. Baby’s heartbeat was strong - at one point it was so fast it triggered an alarm on the machine but the midwife who came in was relaxed and explain the machine had been calibrated to beep at quite a low level. She adjusted it and reassured me he was just having a wiggle, probably due to the toast and jam! Eventually they were satisfied that all was well. On the way out I asked about the fact that I hadn’t heard from the foetal medicine team yet, they couldn’t see anything on the system but said to give them a call direct when I got home to chase them up. I reassured myself that if it had been anything urgent then surely they would have been in touch by now.
At home the next day, I phoned the number and spoke to the foetal medicine team receptionist, who said she could see a doctor had looked at the images and she would ask someone to call me back. A few minutes later a midwife called, apologising for the delay in contacting me. Then she asked if we could come in the following morning first thing. My husband could of course come with me. This is when the unease hit me and I took the earliest time she offered and promptly burst into tears when I got off the phone. I love the NHS, but I know being offered a last minute next day appointment is rarely a sign off a routine non-urgent discussion or being given the all clear. It was therefore with some trepidation that we rearranged our work schedules and turned up at the hospital the following day.