After the miscarriage I was beyond apprehensive and impatient about getting pregnant again.  My doctor had told me to wait until I’d had a normal period and my body was back in a cycle.  I don’t think there was any major medical reason for this only that I’d be able to track ovulation.  But there was a part of me that feared miscarrying again and I imagine waiting the extra month or 2 could only have been good for me in the long run.

It was obviously a positive that I could get pregnant in the first place, and I was praying it would happen quickly again.  Luckily for us we didn’t have long to wait and I had a positive test in Late august 2017.  This time we didn’t tell anyone.  We were house hunting and my mam came with us to view a particularly old house.  The smell inside was damp and I had to leg it out the back to throw up in the garden.  Suffice to say my mam knew instantly and it was a huge relief to be able to confide in her.  She completely understood my apprehension and agreed to keep it a secret.  When I look back on my decision to keep it a secret I realise that although I was nervous Id miscarry again, I wasn’t telling my nearest because I didn’t want to upset them again.  I felt like it would be better to tell them I’d lost again rather than get their hopes up that I was pregnant.  That 6 week wait until my 12 week scan was the longest time of my life.

However there was a stark contrast between this and my first pregnancy.  This time I was CONSTANTLY puking my ring.  Apologies for the crass expression but there is really no nice way to put it.  The constant nausea is indescribably horrific and shockingly reassuring at the same time. Its like the worst hangover of your life that you don’t  wake up from.  The term ‘morning’ sickness is disgustingly inaccurate.  All day nausea and vomiting at the drop of a hat.  Worst part about it is not being able to tell anyone.  For 6 weeks I sat on the stool in my classroom and absolutely legged it to the toilets on average 10 times throughout the day.  Luckily I had an amazing SNA who knew exactly what was wrong with me and didn’t say a word but carried on teaching for me in my absence.  Joan, my hero.  The male teacher next door didn’t seem to bat an eyelid at the amount of times he had to mind my class and probably thought I’d a dodgy bladder or was a work dodger, thank god for unobservant men!

however bad pulling in on the m50 to puke at 8am in the morning might be it was such a reassuring feeling.  I prayed so hard for the vomit to keep coming knowing there must still be a little foetus growing causing it.  At about 13 weeks, 2 days before my appointment in the Rotunda, the sickness suddenly stopped.  I had a feeling of dread for those 2 days wishing the vomiting back.

thankfully the 12 week scan went well and Aidan and I got to see and hear the beginnings of the life of Cara.  We hugged, I cried and we called everyone with the news.

The rest of my pregnancy (until the end) was really uneventful.  I loved being pregnant, I adored my growing bump and had no other symptoms. I felt very well and possibly unlike others, loved being told how big I was getting.  I embraced the dungarees look and was delighted with life.

I had absolutely no signs or symptoms of pre-eclampsia or HELLLP syndrome.  At exactly 32 weeks I was struck down with a chest infection that had me out of work.  I couldn’t shift it and my GP was a bit reluctant to put me on antibiotics as I’m allergic to penicillin.  I was miserable with it and constantly coughing.  We were living with my parents as we were moving house and our new house wasn’t ready yet.  My mam was travelling to Chicago to be with my sister who was due her baby that week.  As she was leaving for the airport she asked if I would be ok, I nodded and said of course but inside my head I said, “you will be flying home early for me”.  I had the weirdest premonition the baby would be early.  I packed my hospital bag at 30 weeks, bought insurance for theatre tickets as if I knew I wouldn’t make the show and absolutely knew my mam wouldn’t be long in Chicago.

i went back to the GP on the Thursday and she gave me medication and told me to come back on Monday if I felt no better.  She took my urine and blood pressure and there was no sign of pre-eclampsia at all.  On Monday I felt even worse and was beginning to see stars when I was was coughing ( a symptom I only heard about afterwards). The GP took my blood pressure and very calmly told me I’d have to go the Rotunda straight away.  I was naturally a bit upset but also calm even when she told me to bring an overnight bag.  She told me to go straight home mad get someone else to drive me.  I rang Aidan and he left work straight away to bring me in.  The next few minutes were probably the scariest of my life.

I lived about a 4 minute drive from the GP and in that 4 minute the heaviest thumping pain began just between my rib cages.  It was intense and I thought I was having a panic attack.  I crashed my mams car into the wall of the house when I got home as I couldn’t control the intense heat and thumping inside me.  I fumbled with my keys and got into the empty house.  I shouted at myself to calm down still thinking I was having a panic attack.  I couldn’t sit, couldn’t stand, all I could do was pace around every room of the house with the thumping getting more and more intense every minute.  I decided to call dad hoping he was nearby but couldn’t even dial the number my hands were shaking so badly.  Then the vomiting started.  This was very different to the early sickness.  This was boiling hot coming out of me too quickly to reach the bathroom.  It was then I realised something was very wrong.  Luckily just then Aidan got home and I barked at him to get the bags and drive fast.  I got in the front seat and within minutes made him stop as I couldn’t handle the pain of sitting and needed to lie flat in the back.  For the first time ever I was cursing his slow driving and told him to not only break every red light but also drive down the Lucas tracks too.  He left me at the door to park and I stumbled to the desk and lay my head down.  I’m sure the receptionist just though I was another woman in labour and asked me the usual routine questions.  I’m not sure if I even answered her but I did tell her I was about to be sick.  Aidan had given me a plastic bag and as I puked into it the vomit was so hot it burned holes in the bag and was all over me.  The receptionist suddenly reacted and called for a doctor.

next minute I’m in the emergency room and they won’t let Aidan in.  We speculated afterwards that this probably had something to do with potential domestic violence cases but actually I don’t think they wanted Aidan to hear how serious the situation was.  My consultant Jennifer was there within minutes and told me I had something called sudden onset pre-eclampsia and the pain between my ribs was a result of HELLP syndrome.  This is a rare, life threatening condition that causes red blood cells to break down and causes big problems for the liver.  I had been with the GP at 4pm and it was now 5.30 ish.  Jennifer told me that they needed to deliver the baby immediately.  In a panic I asked ‘how? Wondering how the fuck I could push with the intensity of pain I was in, she smiled and handed me a permission form for a c-section.  I scrawled am illegible line and forced a smile, It sounds so awful but I’m that moment I didn’t even think about the baby and how it would be at this early stage I just needed the pain to stop.  

I begged for pain relief but all that I could be given was paracetamol, understandably as the problem was my liver.  I remember writhing around the hospital bed as numerous doctors and nurses buzzed around me.  The eventually let Aidan in and Jennifer filled him in on the plan.  I was brought up to theatre and had a gas anaesthesiologist who despite how unwell I was had me laughing.  The most shocking part of an emergency c-section is the sheer amount of people in the room.  Everyone’s job seemed urgent and I was pulled in every direction with tubes and wires going in everywhere.  The anaesthesiologist assured me the pain would be gone soon and even counted down to very second the epidural kicked in and the relief was unreal.  I immediately relaxed and clung to Aidan.  
The surgery was not straight forward and I lost a lot of blood, in addition to that my blood pressure was not coming down.  The doctor pulled out Cara and congratulated us on our little girl.  I didn’t really see her as she was quite small the paediatricians whisked her away very quickly.  Aidan stuck by my side til I ordered him to go take pictures of our little girl.  The doctors asked if we had a name and Aidan said Cara.  He waited for my response and I asked well does she look like a Cara? He hesitated and said eh yea 😀 

I’m not sure why but at that moment I felt a wave of sickness and told the nurse I was going to be sick.  She gave me a basin smiling as she obviously knew I had zero ability to be sick as the epidural had gone right up to my chest considering where my pain was.  So I just made these feeble cat like noises sticking out my tongue trying to engage my stomach to be sick which was obviously impossible! That was the moment they brought my tiny Cara over to meet me, I was feeling so ill I could t actually look at her and pretended to kiss her and then she was gone. There’s a video of that meeting and I think it’s quite sad how disengaged I am in that precious moment.  I had grand plans of delayed cord clamping and instant skin to skin time and possibly even trying breastfeeding straight away and I couldn’t even look at her.

In post op I felt grand, was chatting away to the nurse about her sons school as another nurse kneaded my nipple like they were dough to try entice some colostrum out for my needy tiny baby.  I had absolutely no idea how serious everything had just been and still was. I decided it was imperative that my principal get a substitute for my class and so she was the first person we told about Cara’s arrival!  I was brought to the high dependency  unit to recover with Aidan allowed to stay the night with me on the chair in the room.  He snored and I didn’t get a wink of sleep.

Cara arrived at 8.15pm on the 9th of April 2018 at 3lbs 14ounces.  Not too small for an early baby but she had actually stopped growing two weeks prior due to the pre-eclampsia so she was very skinny and slight.  She was in an incubator being well minded by the team in the NICU. She luckily had no health concerns but was on oxygen and being constantly monitored due to her early arrival.  I didn’t see her for three days.

in the two days after having Cara we gradually began to understand the gravity of my situation.  So many random staff members from admin workers to physios to doctors and nurses who had nothing to do with me came to see me and everyone of them said the same thing, “it’s so good to see you looking so well” and ”you gave us quite a scare”.  My own doctor was brilliant.  She was completely honest about the severity but was also very positive and happy with the outcome.  She explained what happened in detail but I don’t remember much and she promised we would go through it again in the future. I was still on blood pressure medication and the nurses were checking me every hour day and night and always sighed in disappointment when the reading was still high.  My stupid cough returned and the pain In the surgical wound that every cough enlisted was excruciating.

After three days in bed and two embarrassing but necessary wash downs from kind nurses I began demanding that I be allowed to see my baby.  I felt ok ish and thought I was strong enough to go.  I had two IVs in one in each arm and a Canula in my hand, I also had compression socks and a gas machine that looked like a blow up costume for my legs going constantly to prevent clots not to mention the amount of morphine I was popping!  On top of that I had the usual catheter that accompanies any epidural.  So getting me to the NICU was a porters nightmare and the nurses said I wasn’t ready.  Determined to prove them wrong I made Mam (flew home early as predicted) and a nurse help me to the side of the bed. As I placed my legs down they buckled and my whole body got pins and needles and I thought I was going to faint.   The nurse had a kind but I told you so look on her face and promised we would try again that evening.  When my doctor did her rounds she promised I would go that evening and had a word with the nurse for me.

so on the evening of day three I finally met my little miracle.  I was wheeled up the the NICU by a lovely porter and could feel myself welling up already I was instructed how to properly wash my hands.  Aidan by my side we passed just one other baby before we reached Cara.  She was tiny.  Loads of funny, fuzzy hair and two huge eyes that seemed to be string right at me.  I asked about holding and was told no as she would use up too much energy coming out of the incubator and she needed every ounce of energy she had to grow. Even though they were nice about it I felt at the time like I was being ridiculous for even asking such a thing.  Of course my Hormones were all over the shop anyway but I think anyone in that situation would have found it hard not to cry.  I put on my bravest face and didn’t dare breath for fear of waking every sleeping baby in the quiet but beepy  NICU but the silent tears would not stop rolling down my face.  The lovely Philippino nurse said I could pop my hand in the incubator and touch her if I wanted.  Those first pictures I have of me and Cara are both precious and as upsetting as the video of our first meeting in the operating room.

I think the nurse started out by trying to distract me from my potential outburst that I’m sure she could see coming by asking what I did for a living.  When I told her I was a primary school teacher she started shouting, oh my god ms Quinn ms Quinn I thought it was you! Turns out her son was in my very first class I ever taught in St Vincents in my first job in 2010.  It was only a maternity leave cover for 3 months but I loved that class and that school.  I remembered her son and she proceeded to tell me all about him now and showed me pictures of her handsome 14 year old.  She told me he loved me as a teacher and I swear it was one of the nicest things someone could have said to me in that highly emotional moment.  Though I was red and puffy from crying she insisted on taking a selfie to show him when she got home.  Funny how something like that would change everything in that moment for me.  She helped me through an emotional rough patch and I began to feel so happy I had a new, healthy baby who was in the best hands possible.

i have a lot of love for the team in the NICU.  They do amazing work and care greatly for all their tiny babies.  However it’s not an easy place to be a parent.  They, understandably, have strict rules that you only learn as you go and I often felt like I was in trouble or doing the wromg thing.  I expressed milk for Cara in the hopes it would help her grow big and strong enough to come home.  It did.  I absolutely hated Expressing in the hospital and at home but it was the only thing I could do to help Cara and that gave me a connection to her.  I did try her on the boob once in the hospital with the help of a lactation consultant but my boob was triple the size of her tiny head so was just comical and Cara didn’t latch at all just kept licking it, which Aidan found hilarious. 
I was discharged from hospital after 8 days and this sticks out in my memory as the hardest day by far.  Leaving the hospital without her felt wrong.  I was still very slow and was leaving the hospital with Aidan carrying my bag holding back tears as every other father we passed was holding a car seat too.  

Cara spent a further 2 weeks in hospital and was finally allowed home when she reached 5lbs and was not attached to any machinery.  I had witnessed a family be told their baby was allowed home and then the baby had what was called a cpap and was being kept in for another five days for monitoring.  The couple were upset and angry and I made a silent promise to myself to not get my hopes us til we had Cara in the car.  When we were told she was being discharged we didn’t tell anyone. We wrapped her up tight and brought her home to the surprise of my mam and dad.  My dad bawled as we walked into the kitchen with her and my mam hugged me tight.  I was so blissfully happy in this moment and often think about it if I need cheering up or am in a mood.

 

ive luckily had no side effects of the pre-eclampsia or any blood pressure issues since.  My recovery was tough even after I left the hospital.  I had lost a lot of blood so was on iron tablets and was still high risk for clots so had to inject myself daily with heparin for 6 weeks which was unpleasant.  My scar also burst its seams and my mam had to grab our neighbour who is a heart surgeon in the middle of the night to come take a look.  Luckily it wasn’t serious and was fixed the next day.

 

Cara is perfect and we are so lucky our journey had this wonderful outcome.  Thank you for reading and if you or anyone you know needs to talk about preeclampsia, HELLP or having a preemie baby please reach out to me, I have good tips! Xxx