Here comes our premature baby Christian weighing 1900 grams

It is the end of 2014

I am in the final year of my training to become a caregiver. We had just gotten married when we decided to make our desire to have children a reality. I am overweight, so I do not expect to get pregnant right away, but within 3 months it turns out to be successful. And significantly so. We have only just found out that I am pregnant when the morning sickness truly lives up to its name. But it doesn't stop there. When I am 9 weeks pregnant, we are on vacation in Germany. The nausea takes on terrible forms there and my stomach is in charge. Later, when we return home after the Christmas holidays, I receive medication from the doctor. They work, but only take the worst edge off. At least I keep something down.

At 16 weeks, the medication can be tapered off and it seems I can finally enjoy myself. I have graduated in the meantime but can't find a job due to the pregnancy. I sign up with a temp agency and after working three shifts, I have to call in sick. Not because of nausea, no, that's over. The nausea has been replaced by pelvic instability. I had some pain in my hip after an evening shift. Not strange, I had been stationary for weeks. But the pain got worse and at the midwife's request, I seek help from a pelvic therapist. They massage me, but indicate there's a lot I can no longer do. Climbing stairs, cycling, and bending over. At 20 weeks pregnant, I still can't do anything. I sit at home bored and try to make myself useful. That also includes visits to the midwife. I feel the baby just move and can finally enjoy a bit. Until a check-up. The 28-week ultrasound. Measurements are taken, asked again about the first day of the last period. The sonographer indicates that our baby is too small. Okay, but what is too small? She can't tell, the midwife will contact us today or tomorrow. "Jesus, how exciting. Is something wrong?" The midwife brings us back down to earth. There's nothing serious, but the belly is smaller than expected, which means I will be closely monitored and I will have another growth ultrasound in two days. This time at the hospital. Arriving in great tension, I undergo this ultrasound alone. My husband unfortunately can't get away from work. But it confirms what the midwife said. It turns out our baby is a few weeks behind in growth. His abdominal circumference is comparable to a baby 2 weeks less along. So now he is 2 weeks "too small". Nothing wrong in principle, as long as I keep resting and lying on my left side a lot. But I will now be under the hospital's supervision. I find that a comforting thought. An appointment is made for 2 weeks later, when I am 30 weeks, then they want to see if he has grown a bit. In those two weeks, I keep all the rest I can. But unfortunately, he continues to follow his line. I may go back to my own midwife, but will also be under the care of the gynecologist. Until I am at the midwife's again at 32 weeks. After a routine check-up, she asks if another growth ultrasound is scheduled, I say no and she immediately schedules one. As a precaution. But I have a voice in my head that says it's not right. My blood pressure is a bit high but due to all the stress around the little one, the midwife finds that still within limits.

I am 33 weeks pregnant

After another growth ultrasound, I am admitted to the hospital. It has gotten a bit smaller. The growth has further deviated. After collecting my urine, it turns out to contain protein. I have pre-eclampsia. The nurse calmly explains why I have been admitted. My baby has a 'neg-dys'. He is dysmature. Too small for the number of weeks. I will stay in the hospital until delivery. But when that delivery will be, no one can say exactly. I will definitely not make it to 40 weeks. As soon as the little one becomes too quiet or I don't feel well, I must alert someone immediately. That's not good. Every day I will be connected to the CTG twice, every 10 days a Doppler ultrasound to check the pressure of the umbilical cord and every 14 days a growth ultrasound. The little one is currently moving like crazy and is very active. That reassures me a lot. I consult Google, but it doesn't make me much wiser. Fortunately, a good friend of mine can also explain a lot. Her little boys were also born prematurely and she has been through all the hospital hassle as well. A new growth ultrasound is scheduled, this time at the Erasmus hospital. It's an SEO. A specialized ultrasound where they can see more. They want to find out the cause. Unfortunately, they don't succeed. We are left in uncertainty.

I see my husband physically in the hospital about four times a week in my room, but every evening we do facetime. He has to work, but as soon as labor starts, he gets five weeks off. It's lonely, but the peace is good for me. I continue to feel well and the baby is also doing fine twice a day on the CTG. But when I wake up on Monday morning at 6 o'clock, I have a terrible pain in my stomach. It's like there's a band around the top of my stomach. I had it a few weeks back too, and when I took it easy, it subsided. So I first took a calm shower and asked for a cup of tea with a slice of ontbijtkoek. But when it hadn't subsided after an hour, I raised the alarm. Today I am 35 weeks and 4 days pregnant.

Blood was drawn immediately and we had to wait for those results

I was connected to the CTG and was asked if I would like my husband to be there now. Yes, definitely. I called him. I didn't trust the situation and wanted a familiar face. My best friend and in-laws were kept informed via text messages. We waited and waited. We decided that my husband could go back to work. It was already 12 hours later. He left. And he had been gone for just an hour when the nurse came in. Okay, that's logical. The gynecologist followed, okay that's normal... And then the pediatrician came. Okay, this is wrong. I had HELLP syndrome and I was going to be induced. The protein level in my blood was too high. Barely recovered from the shock, I called my husband. I couldn't reach him. Left a voicemail. Sent texts that he had to come NOW. Called my in-laws. At 2:00 PM, a balloon catheter was inserted. At 2:05 PM, my husband was by my side. Late in the evening, the balloon fell out. Three centimeters dilated. The contractions stopped. The next day we would continue with the induction. First, sleep.

At 7 a.m., the nurse was already by my bed. I had already showered and was back on the CTG. An IV was inserted preventively and my membranes were ruptured. An hour later, a pump was connected to my IV: labor-inducing drugs. The little one still didn't want to come out, but it was necessary. At 3 p.m., an epidural was administered. The contractions were still not optimal and I was only 5 centimeters dilated, but I couldn't take it anymore. At 4 p.m., I returned to my maternity room (according to my husband) very zen. By 8 p.m., I was only 7 to 8 centimeters dilated. There was hardly any progress. Then it turns out that our baby is having a hard time during the contractions. Suddenly his heart rate drops and the team is right beside me. It can't take much longer now, I've already mentioned the possibility of a cesarean, but the gynecologist thinks I can still do it on my own. He prefers a natural birth. That would be better for the baby.

At 9:00 PM, I get pain in my tailbone

They check again and it turns out I've already dilated 9 centimeters. Almost there! The inducers are turned off and the pain intensifies. I try not to swear, as I am in a Protestant hospital, but it's difficult. At 9:30 PM, I reach my limit. I can't go on. I am fully dilated at 10 centimeters. Time to get into the pushing position. After three contractions and a little help from the midwife, at 9:40 PM, I give birth to a little boy with strong lungs. Christiaan! He weighs 1900 grams and is 44 centimeters long. He is allowed to lie with me for two minutes. The epidural has to wear off first and I need to be stitched up. Once that's done and I've showered, then I can go to him. He's premature, too light, and too small but completely whole, healthy, and ours.

The next adventure awaits, because a premature... That's a different ball game!

ILONA