Our Story - Part Two

I would like to state now before I go into this that I adore the NHS and this is by no means me complaining about the NHS, I myself am proudly an NHS staff member, but there is a bigger picture. The bigger picture being that things are getting missed, compassion burn out is prevalent in professionals and there is a national issue with maternity care. I am here to tell my story not to scare anyone but I am here to raise awareness. 

I discuss the events leading to the passing of my son in this entry, if this is something that would weigh too heavy on you, please protect yourself and skip it. If you do read my story please, know this is my story and the smallest window into what happened. 

I've been putting this off for a while now, the part two, the part of my pregnancy journey my soul never wants to endure again but aches to feel one more time. So here we are 33 weeks, it's a week before Christmas, I am feeling enormous. I say enormous because Tom's granny once, very endearingly, told me that I in fact was enormous like she was with her babies. It stuck and I loved being enormous. Other than hyperemesis up to around 22 weeks my pregnancy was pretty uneventful, this all changed. 

I began with the most blinding painful headaches, no paracetamol would touch it, that kind of head ache. I was being sick daily, no food or water would stay down long. I had the shakes, I was dizzy and honestly I felt so awful. This was bearable but add in the fact that Felix went from being active in my tummy, kicking at least every couple hours and in the evenings having his usual night time rave before Tom would read him a story to sleep. He wasn't doing that. I knew instantly from my work in maternity and the information you are given by your midwife that kicks count. I'll say it again - KICKS COUNT. We of course went straight to our local hospital, I was monitored, blood tests and on CTGs. This occurred a total of 4 visits in a row. Each time I would 'fail' the CTG due to Felix not moving within 60 minutes and a lack of accelerations. They would then do another CTG and eventually we would 'pass' but it would be because he moved a very small amount. I knew that there was something wrong that first time. But we were discharged time after time. Concern after concern raised. They told us it was ok it was normal. My bloods were ok so my headaches, vomitting and lack of movement with Felix was fine. I knew it wasn't fine. Now you ask me, if you knew, why didn't you force them to do action? My answer for that is in the time of my most vulnerable, I doubted myself and put my trust in the professionals telling me that I was just anxious and that I probably just don't notice he is moving. Now looking back at these comments I am enraged. But in that moment I thought, oh, yes perhaps I am just anxious and in fact vomitting, blinding headaches and my baby not moving is ok, pregnancy is hard after all perhaps I am being 'silly'. Whilst writing these words I feel physical pain in my chest and my stomach so bare with me. 

It's Christmas eve... I had been discharged for what felt like the millionth time and told Felix is well and safe. I was still being sick near on every couple of hours, my headaches were very much still there and I couldn't do much other than lay on the sofa or my bed. I knew we had Christmas tomorrow and we had planned to go to Tom's parent's for lunch. I wanted to get better, I scrolled on my phone looking at baby clothes on vinted, although I never told Tom as I had already bought Felix half the populations worth of adorable baby grows. I folded more of his clothes in-between vomitting. At this point I was aware it was lunch time, I hadn't felt Felix move since yesterday night and it was him turning around whilst Tom rubbed my tummy and we breathed deeply knowing he had moved. Now this is the part of the story I hate to write, because It is not with bad intentions or to make anyone feel bad. I contacted family and of course Tom to tell them I was worried, that I felt like something wasn't right. Now this is not on anyone because everyone had been reassured and had their faith in the professionals who said Felix is fine and it's in my head. But because of this nobody felt concerned by my worries, I remember words of oh he is just being lazy he will wriggle soon. Or it's ok Beth you have been checked they said he is fine. When I tell you that those moments were the loneliest moments of my life I do not say that lightly. Nobody thought I needed to go back to the maternity ward, I was told by my loved ones, who were just doing what they thought was right, to not to worry and relax. My brain and body was telling me the complete opposite. I started poking him, talking to him, I drank fizzy pop and ate cake because those things ALWAYS made him wriggle. Nothing. Just a heavy weight in my uterus and in my heart.

The next hour of this story is a blur. I decided in a split second I needed to be at the hospital. I live a 10 minute walk, uphill, to the hospital. I had many friends around who I knew would of taken me if I asked. But I became almost animalistic in the fact that I NEEDED to be there now. So, I ran. A 34+1 week pregnant lady power jogging up a hill and barged through the doors. Looking back on that now I see it as an extraordinary act of a mother trying one last time to beg for her baby to be saved. This is what I tell myself when I think I didn't do enough.  Skipping the usual medical talk eventually I was on a CTG machine. The midwife couldn't find a heart beat and calmly said to me oh dear these machines are playing up... I'll get someone to scan you. I was staring at one place in the room because I knew, Felix was gone. Scans happened and his death was confirmed. I don't want to use this space to discuss the care that I didn't get and unfortunately some staff members really need to be reeducated on how to treat a woman who has lost their child. Eventually they said the words Beth I am so sorry, there is no heartbeat. I did nothing. I called Tom and asked him to get here, but I didn't tell him why, I wanted to keep him safe from the horror I was feeling. I sat alone, staring at the machine that time after time alarmed and 'failed' us and my own voice alarming people but nothing happened and now he is gone. Tom arrived as the consultant did and that was when they formally informed us 'Your son is dead' and 'it's just one of those things' words that haunt me.

There was a lot of other things that followed this, I went home for the night with Felix still inside me, and slept in our home as a three one more time. We opened Christmas presents in bed, because we wanted Felix to have one Christmas physically with us. Even though he was of course gone already. Christmas morning we, alone, headed to the hospital for me to give birth to Felix. This is a story and a trauma I am not ready to share, I am still haunted every night by it and I hope one day I can but right now that's not ok for me. 

All I wanted to do was scream I told you, why didn't you listen to me, I told you. But I didn't I just screamed, cried and begged for him to wake up. He didn't. But what I will say is, the moment I locked eyes on that boys face, all I could feel was pure love. You know when people say a mothers love is something you cannot imagine until you feel it. Yeah, it's real and it's intense. He is and was the most perfect child and I gave birth to him. I still to this day wonder if I could of done more, if I had screamed in their faces would they deliver him? Maybe, but I'm not that kind of person so there is no way I would of. I did all I could with what I had in those moments.

I just wanted to end this with please, please advocate for women and especially pregnant women. They know. I do not care how many years you have been a doctor, nurse, midwife or a fellow woman who have had 'normal' pregnancies. If a woman is telling you something is wrong. LISTEN.

This was a hard write, but an important one. Again, no NHS bashing but perhaps a story for reflection if you are a practitioner. Or just a human, listen more. 

If this has affected you, please reach out, I have my messages open always and lots of baby loss charities linked in my Instagram. 

Finally, thank you for reading our story, It's a tiny snippet of what happened. But it's hard to write. 

Love always. 

Beth, Felix's mama.