Marcella's First Birthday

Well the milestone of the first birthday has been reached. If you haven't read the story of Marcella's Birth you can here. Wow, what an emotional day. Due to an incident the night before, where I was left feeling unsupported, not by friends by an organisation. I was already very emotional, and puffy from crying. So it was a challenge for me for the day to pull myself together so that I could be in the present, and enjoy and celebrate being on the other side.

I had great plans for the day, we first went  to a Life's Little Treasures playgroup, which happened to fall on the day, and chat with other prem mum's. Which we did and it was great and really helped to settle my emotions.

Marcella and the other children all had a great time.

So dressed in her Hope for Accreta shirt, we then went on to deliver our thank you cards that I had made up for the occasion.  So we first posted and hand delivered some of our cards to friends that helped up get through this traumatic event.


We then went on to the hospital to deliver our cards to the Doctors, Nurses, Midwives, Chaplains, NICU Doctors and Nurses, and everyone involved in helping to keep me here, or making the journey that much easier.

There were a few tears, especially when I saw one of the NICU Nurses that help with Marcella's care. She would sit with me for hours to try and help me get milk, and deliver the bond between me and my baby.  SO it was a very special day.  I also want to thank all of you out there that have supported us with Pray, Encouragements, Practical help and Support.  Thank you for helping make the journey a little easier.

Here is a few photo's from the day.

Loving Cake!

Enjoying some Story time at LLT

Goodbye Intensive Care

Saying thank you to the Chaplains 

The Last time I will be in the NICU

A gift for the NICU, hopefully will bless some Mum's to come. 

Saying Goodbye to the Hospital

What a difference a year can make.

We are all really thankful that we have made it this far.  Thank you all.

My Full Story of Surviving Percreta

From time to time things happen in our lifetimes that test our faith. This is the story of an experience that tested mine that resulted in another glorious blessing to our family.

Family Photo, 6 weeks pregnant.

My Journey started at 7 weeks on one of my daughters birthday. I experienced my first bleed and loss of clots, one the size of a big lemon. I was standing in my kitchen, chatting away to my 2 year old son while making him breakfast. Feeling very happy with my lot, I was pregnant with our 7th baby, and very happy to be so. Then all of a sudden I felt a gush. At first I thought that I had wet myself, not something I had done before, but I had heard that sometimes these things happen to pregnant women. So I went to the toilet to check. That is when I discovered I was bleeding, I remember saying “oh no!” my husband in the other room heard the emotion in my voice,
“What? What's wrong?”,
“I'm bleeding, I'm losing our baby.”

He brought me some clean underwear and pads. I cleaned myself up the best I could, and then went back downstairs. A few minutes later a large clot fell out and I ran back to the toilet. I could see something in the clot, it was heartbreaking. There was no way I was going to put this in the toilet and flush. Suspecting it was my baby my husband took it into the backyard and buried it. We later found out that we had lost one of our twins.

Because it was my daughter’s birthday my husband and I took our children to MacDonald's for breakfast for a birthday treat. We knew that we would probably spend the rest of the day at the hospital and wanted to at least make some of the day special for her. I assumed that I had miscarried our baby, but because I was O neg, I needed to go to the hospital and have an Anti-D injection, just in case. By the time we got to the hospital the bleeding had slowed to a light period. The doctor took some blood to test, and we waited a while for the results to come back, when they finally did, the doctor was very surprised at how high my HCG levels were. She explained that they were really high for a normal pregnancy, let alone someone that was having a miscarriage, so they booked me in for Ultrasound the following week.

The next few days seemed like a whirlwind. I thought I had miscarried and I didn't know if I was still pregnant or not. During the ultrasound the technician discovered a live baby and a pool of blood, a sub-chronic haemorrhage, and a space where she explained looked like another egg had implanted. My placenta was very low. She also asked me heaps of questions about my c-section scar. At the time I didn't know why she was asking me those questions (but now looking back, I do). With so many mixed feels, losing a baby, still carrying a baby and not sure what was going to happen next, it was a challenge to deal with. We have some very unsupportive people in our lives when it comes to us having children, so at that point we had only chose to tell close friends that we were expecting, since it is difficult to say with complicated, potentially dangerous pregnancies "I might be expecting, and I'm not sure if we will have a live baby at the end of this journey”. I remember clearly wanting to tell people that we were having another blessing, but then at the same time I didn't want to turn around that tell these same people who didn't want us to have a baby to start with, that we actually lost it. I remember Christmas day very clearly, I was 11 weeks pregnant and having to get through the whole thing pretending that everything was ok, putting on the ‘happy christmas’ face, (not sharing we were pregnant, as to not ruin anyone’s christmas) but at the same time, bleeding and having to keep it to myself.

I then went on to have about another ten bleeds. With each bleed I would have to go up to the hospital to check that I still had a live baby on board, and so until I got to the point where I could feel baby moving, it was really quite stressful. People would see me at the hospital and ask why I was there, it was never a happy answer, until 22 weeks at which point the fresh bleeding stopped. I had brown, old bleeding the whole time, there wasn't a day since it started that I didn't have to wear a pad. I think during this pregnancy I used more feminine hygiene products than in my whole reproductive life!

Just when I thought things where settling down at 22 weeks I was diagnosed Gestational Diabetes and required insulin to help keep it under control, that meant for me that I needed to test my blood sugars 6 times a day before and after eating and then injecting myself with fast and slow acting insulin 5 times a day. I really felt like a pin cushion and had bruises all over my stomach for it! From the results of my 7 week ultrasound I was put on pelvic rest, and told I had a low lying placenta and it wasn't until the 20 week scan that it was confirmed that I had placenta previa. At this point my placenta was only a marginal previa, sitting very close to my cervix but not directly over it. My doctors encouraged me by saying that most previa's do end up moving up and out of the way. We would just have to wait and see what mine would do.

19 + 2 weeks.


I was lucky I had a friend that had recently gone through the same thing; she had 7 weeks hospital bedrest, and then a c-section. So I asked her so many questions- I think in the early weeks there was hardly a day that I didn't send her a question. With 6 children at home, I wanted to prepare my family in the event that I would have a long hospital stay. I thankfully also found a facebook group for placenta previa and accreta.

To help me cope with all the stress I set myself goals to help me get through. My first was to make it to viability: 24 weeks, then 28 weeks, but my big goal was to make to 32 weeks, because that meant all being well with baby I wouldn't have to go to Hobart which was 3 hour drive away, and I wouldn't be able to see my family and they wouldn't be able to see me until it was time to go home. My husband can't drive, and we didn't have a vehicle that would make it possible to be able to make that drive, so I would be on my own for delivery and everything else. I was so thankful when that day came and passed. Also to help keep my friends and family up to date on what was happening, I set up a facebook group for my pregnancy and my baby. I used it many times during my pregnancy to ask for prayer for particular issues, and keep people informed about what we were facing.

Here is my first post for that group.
'Welcome to the group! I'm currently 32 +5 weeks pregnancy with another blessing. From my last ultra sound (a week ago) I have grade 4 placenta previa, with the placenta over my old c-section scars, which means there is a possibility of having placenta accreta. Our baby has also been diagnosed with a clubbed left foot, which we won't know the degree of until birth. I'm booked in for a c-section on 25 of June, which will make me 37 weeks, as long as I don't have bleeding before that. Otherwise delivery could be any day'.

The time between my 20 week scan and that 32 week scan seemed to take forever to come. I was hoping for good news. Earlier in my pregnancy, my doctors where happy that if my placenta moved they would support me through a VBA2C's and I was really hoping to do that. After all, I wanted to be able to have more children and I knew each c-section I had would affect my ability to have more babies. As the time progressed the placenta didn't move, and at my 32 week scan my placenta actually settled more into a complete placenta previa, and totally covering my cervix. At this point I started to ask if accreta was something that I would need to worry about. When speaking with one of my doctors, she didn't seem to think that I would have accreta because the U/S report sounded like that placenta was more to the back and side, and only just covering my scar. However I would have another scan at 36 weeks to give it one more check over before my scheduled c-section are 37 weeks. They wanted to deliver a little early to try and avoid any problems associated with early labour disturbing the placenta and creating an emergency situation.

Also at my 32 week scan the technician saw that it looked like my baby had a clubbed foot, but was unsure of the extent and the treatment that might be needed until delivery. The technician said my baby was sitting in breech position with her feet right up near her head. Because the placenta was sitting over the cervix she had no room to turn around into the head-first position. I was also told from this point on I wasn't to leave the area in case I had a bleed, since if I did have a bleed I would need to call an ambulance and get to the hospital as quickly as I could! In many ways this new was kind of a relief. It validated all the stress and worry that I was going through, and said “yes is this a serious condition”, which I knew already, but found hard to express to other how serious it was. We rarely see reports of losing women in child birth anymore, so there is this kind of myth that no one dies like that any more. It was also around this time that I saw a post on Facebook of a mother that died during the delivery of her 6th baby. She had developed accrete, which brought it home even more for me.

At my next scan at 36 weeks, the ultrasound tech suggested that my placenta might be over the scar, suggesting that there might be a possibility that ‘I had developed accreta’, but as it is a rare condition they didn't think it would be very likely, however they booked out the OR for the day just in case when they got inside they discovered that it was accreta. At this scan the doctors also found that my baby was now lying in transverse breech, just to add another thing to this ever increasing list of complications! What else could go wrong…. I was about to find out.

At 36 weeks and a few days I was sitting at home with my children crocheting when I felt a gush. I had a split second of dread and I immediately knew what it was. I had just been experiencing some Braxton Hicks for about 20 mins beforehand. I ran to the toilet to discover blood pouring out, I was home alone with my 6 children. I immediately called out to my children to get me the phone, which they did really quickly. I call the ambos straight away, and face book messaged my husband and a friend to come. (At this point I didn't have a mobile phone).

My message went like this......

Christina
Help.
Help.
Ben Mathewson
What?
Christina Mathewson
Come
Home now
Ben Mathewson
Do you need me home now?
Ok.
Christina Mathewson
Now Bleeding
Ben Mathewson
Coming
Ben Mathewson
Im nearly there
Have you called anyone? “

One of my children ran next door and got help from the neighbour. The Ambo's arrived within 10 minutes, put in a drip and rushed me to the hospital, blood was still pouring out. Just as they were getting me into the Ambulance my husband arrived, I told him which bag to grab, and then I was off. Just as we were pulling out my friend arrived to take care of the children. Our neighbour was kind enough to drive Ben to the hospital.

On the way to the hospital contractions started, I remember telling the paramedic with me that my baby was in breech, and if the placenta started coming to just reach in, grab my babies feet and pull her out!, I think the guy was bit panicked by that and told the driver to go faster. On the way they called the hospital and they prepped an OR for my arrival. I was rushed straight into theatre. Ben arrived at the hospital just as they were wheeling me into the theatre and they gave him a few seconds to say goodbye. During the pregnancy I knew there was a possibility that I might not come out of this alive, so I had told my husband a few times what my wishes were if I didn't make it through, and this was the moment where those conversations suddenly became much more real. We didn't have time to say everything that we needed to say. So ‘goodbye and good luck’ was all we had time for!

There were so many people in the theatre and it was go, go, go. Everyone had a role and got on with it as quickly as they could. I tried to remain as calm as I could, while people where putting needles into me and asking me questions. The midwife got the doppler out and tried to find my babies heart beat. She couldn't find it. I had a quick thought, and told her my baby was in breech, and which point she moved the doppler and was able to find her heart beat, the whole room breathe again. People were rushing all over the place- one doctor was asking me questions, while another started waxing me, another did a speculum. It was all systems go! At this point I knew I was probably having a hysterectomy. The last thing I knew I was asking the date so that I would know when my baby was born. Little did I know at that point that actually being able to see my baby was critically uncertain.

Due to the fact that I had eaten recently that day, they had to prevent the food in my stomach coming back up and choking me, so when they put the general anaesthetic over my face, and the nurse had to put her hand over my neck while I went to sleep. I had the feeling of being strangled, I knew the only way to get out of the feeling was to breathe as deeply as I could, and get to sleep faster.

Then all the action happened. Marcella was born shortly after putting me out, she had an apgar of 4, but shortly picked up and moved to recovery in the NICU. Marcella Daphne Providence was born into the world 7 pounds, without sign of club foot, and perfect in every way, entirely unaware as babies are of the chaos around her.

After about 5 hours of waiting my husband posted this under my name.

'please keep praying for Christina. She is in hospital now. More news to come soon. (Ben)

Then work began on me- to save my life. My first operation took 9 hours. Once Marcella was out they discovered that I did indeed have accreta, but I was bleeding so much it was hard for them to see where the placenta ended and the rest of me started. They only had their hands to help guide them, feeling and grabbing what they could. They closed me up and sent me to the Intensive Care Unit. In the ICU the doctors were concerned because my haemoglobin levels keep dropping, which meant I was still bleeding internally.

At this point it was around 1am and they decided they needed to take me back to theatre. The hospital tried to get a hold of my husband to let him know what was going on. At the time our phone started to have issues, and we were missing lots of calls. In the end the police were sent to my house to give him a message that he needed to call. He was in a deep sleep after finally getting all our children into bed for the night. He woke with a startle to find a policeman standing at the end of our bed firmly grabbing his foot to get his attention. My husband later told me the interaction went something like this:

'Sir, SIR, it's officer.... such-and-such here. I need you to wake up sir!'
'What!? What?! Who are you?'
'I'm officer 'such-and-such' (he found out later it was about 1 o clock and STILL doesn't remember his name)
‘...and It's very important that you ring the hospital'
After stumbling, bleary eyed to the phone, and after the officer had repeated the number several times until his brain could comprehend it, my husband rang the hospital.

'I think that you need to come down here. We are doing all that we can, but your wife has lost a lot of blood and she might not survive'
There was no way he could get a babysitter at 1:00 in the morning.
'I'll come as soon as I can'. He said.

They informed him that they were having trouble controlling my bleeding and they were not sure I would make it, and that he should come and say his goodbyes. He was finally able to get to the hospital at around 6am and when he arrived they told him that I was stable, they had stopped the bleeding but I was not out of the woods yet, and would still be in theatre for another few hours. Distraught, he rang the hospital chaplain, who prayed over me, that I would live. My husband said I was very grey looking and had tubes protruding from everywhere, including a machine to help me breathe.

During that second trip to OR they opened me back up and that is when they discovered that my placenta had in fact eaten through my cervix and had attached to my major arteries and my urethra, and when they did the hysterectomy they removed the uterus up to just below one c-section scar, leaving my cervix in place. So now they had to remove the placenta from my urethra and reattach it back into my bladder and remove what was left of my cervix and the surrounding tissue. This time they packed my body using chemicals to help stop the bleeding. This took another 9 hours.

The next day, I was still bleeding internally and they had to work out why. To do this they made a cut into my groin area and inserted a catheter with dye going up into my urethra and down the other side putting dye into my bladder, where they were able to find an area in my bladder that was bleeding due to the damage done by my placenta. The urology team were then able to go in and fix that as well. My next trip back to the OR was to remove the packing, with fingers crossed that I didn't bleed any more.

Marcella's first bath.

While I was on life support the staff cared for Marcella in the NICU and told my husband to take pictures of all of all my baby's 'first' things, first baths, first cuddles etc, so that I could feel part of her story 'if I survived'. At this point My husband was overwhelmed. And as much as he loved this little baby, he wanted to know that I would be fine too. By that evening, and after many tears in private places they were able to assurance him that they had things under control, which eventually prompted the update our facebook group and friends:

“Hello, it's Ben here again. It has been a very difficult day today, but I want to say thank you for everyone who prayed. I got to the hospital at 6 a.m. and the doctors gave a less than 30% of her surviving. She was in a critical condition. Right now, it looks like they have isolated her bleeding problem and they are feeling much more confident she will pull through. With your prayers and friendship, she has and will pull the rest of the way through, and my very disturbed spirit feels much more at peace now. There is still a small chance she will bleed again so the doctors are still watching her closely, but it is fair to say the battle is almost over. Thanks again. Christina and I are thankful to have such valuable friends. (Ben).”

For me the last things I remember was going to sleep in the theatre and the next thing I knew I was waking up incubated in ICU. I had been in an induced coma on life support for 5 days. The doctors had so much trouble controlling the bleeding. I had my blood replaced 4 times, using all the O- blood in the state. I used 54 units of blood, and 80 blood products. The medical team had to work hard to keep me from bleeding out and dying. There was many times when they didn't think I would make it through. In recovery my doctors told me how worried they were that I wouldn't make it. He explained that it was like he was just holding me here by my heels. The doctor giving me the blood said to my husband that there had only been one other person that he had given that much blood to that survived.

Recovery was very painful. I remember waking up in ICU and having the attendants come every 2 hours and turn me. That was extremely painful, and for the next two hours I would slowly work myself back to a position that was more comfortable, only to have them come back and roll me on the other side, which again was a really painful position. That went on for a few days. I also remember waking with tubes, breathing and feeding equipment down my throat. It was rigged up in such a way that if I tried to pull it out it would make me gag and let the nurses know what I was up to. Finally it got taken out which induced a huge vomit. Then I had what I thought was a strong need to go to the toilet and poo! I just felt so panicked because I needed to go to the toilet but I could get my message out. Inside I was screaming for help: “I need to go to the toilet!!”. I think it took a while before anyone could understand me. When they finally did, someone explained to me "no, it's ok, you don't need to go to the toilet. You have a bag collecting your poo. That's what you’re feeling". Phew! finally I could breath a sign of relief I wasn't going to poop myself! I didn't have a clue how I would go to the toilet in that state anyway; I didn't even have enough strength to touch my face!

I finally got to met my baby on day 6 of her life, I could only hold her for a few minutes because I was so weak. She was the smallest out of all my children, and had a look all of her own then. Now she looks just like the other children. For me this was my first visit, for her it was her third. The NICU staff brought her down on day 2 and put her on my chest, and took pictures, at this point unsure that I would live, and were trying to create as many memories for my baby as they could. Also, it is said that skin to skin contact can help the mother recover just as much as the baby. The nurse that put Marcella on my chest said that I responded to her, by rubbing my chin on the top of her head, which I only have a vague memory of.

First meeting of Marcella.

When I was well enough to be moved to an ICU room they changed me over from continuous morphine to button operated morphine that I could press every 5 mins to get another dose, however I was so weak from all the operations, surgery and drugs that I couldn't press that button, so the only time I got a dose of pain relief was when someone visited me or someone passed by my room. I remember the room so well. On the left side of me was a wall of windows, and I was so tired and weak that every time I fell asleep I would have nightmares and I would have to use all my might to jolt myself out of the nightmare and wake up. In many ways the whole experience was a long nightmare that I couldn't wake up from, but in the end I did.

The recovery has been a really long one. Getting back on my feet, dealing with the experience of being depend of other for you basic needs, the extreme exhaustion from all the blood loss, my bladder healing, going home with a bladder bag for 7 weeks, wearing a stoma bag collecting lymphatic fluid from the open incision on my groin, bleeding for 5 months, long term kidney issues, dealing with the emotional side of losing my fertility, the trauma of a birth like this, not being able to breastfeed, and having the outlook of my future being changed so much. I'm glad to now be working with the Australian Red Cross and the Hope for Accreta Foundation, and being able to help other women that are experienced and dealing with a diagnosis of accreta, is helping me wake up from this nightmare and hopefully helping to give hope to others.

Marcella, 5 months old.

Oh the flip side of this experience is all the miracles that we did see happen, for which I am very grateful, for instance:
* Marcella in her own right is a miracle and we love her dearly.
* The obedience of our children during the time I needed them. Getting the phone, computer and the lady next door when I needed them. They did well.
* Our neighbour was home. They are regularly not home, but thankfully this wasn't one of those times that they were out and our neighbour was able to come over and help with the children.
* Then while calling the Ambos, I messaged Ben to come home, whilst I was bleeding. I also messaged my friend to come help since I was bleeding. We had discussed early that if it was an emergency I could call her. Now here is the miracle: both Ben and my friend where on facebook at that time! My husband didn't have a mobile phone, so facebook was our only communication tool during the day. Now normally Ben would have gotten my message a little while after I sent it, but that day he got it straight away, and started running home. My friend who is also a busy homeschooling mum, happened to be on facebook at that exact moment as well, and was able to pack up her four children quickly and come. For me those are two great miracles, because I was able to go into theatre knowing that my children were being looked after and my husband was able to say a quick goodbye to me before theatre. We both had no idea that it would be nearly a week before we saw each other awake.

As for the unseen part of the journey I was unconscious, so wasn't aware of the miracles and the prayers that were said on my behalf.

Ben's Account of the miracles while I was under.
* The miracle of having present and available babysitters.
* The facebook group that I had set up to share our baby news, which was a good communication tool.
* The support the Chaplains gave to Ben.
* People all over the world that were praying for me and my baby.
* All the blood that was needed was available to save my life.
* Marcella had an APGAR score of 4 when she was born, and it quickly became normal.
* Marcella didn't need too much help when she was born, and other than being 4 weeks early, she was developed enough for life outside of womb and only had to learn to feed.
* The skilled surgeons and medical staff, including the quick responding Ambos.
* All the kind staff that where so nice to me.
* All the friends and family that supported my husband during the time I was in hospital.
* The many women that donated breast milk for my baby while I was on life support, and the women that have continued to provide breast milk for my baby. At 9 months old she is still receiving breastmilk from a dear friend, which was not only a blessing for my baby, but also myself. While I wasn't able to establish a supply due to all the trauma, it has been a soothing ointment to my hurting soul.

Sometimes the miracles were big and life saving, and sometime seeming small like having the chaplain turn up at just the right moment to help me through an emotional breakdown, or friends turning up with healing foods like chicken broth and healing prayers and words to feed my body and my soul. A big thanks goes out to all those that have keep us in their thoughts and Prayers.

If you would like to help me get to their first Hope for Accreta Conference later this year, please donate at mycause. https://www.mycause.com.au/page/hopeforaccretaconference

Christina Mathewson - 31/3/14.

If you liked reading my story you might also want to read some of the other stories shared on the Accreta Hope Blog www.hfaausnz.blogspot.com.au

If you have placenta previa or accreta, increta, or percreta, and want to talk, please feel free to contact me via email. Christina - thejoyofthehome@gmail.com or Facebook.

Recovery in Maternity Ward.

Time to move down stairs to Maternity...

On day 8 after the delivery of my daughter the staff in ICU started talking to me about moving down to Maternity Ward so that I could be closer to my baby. The OB didn't want the doctors to move me, as he didn't think the midwives would be able to handle all my care at that point. I had to agree with him. I liked the security of having the attendants around if something should happen. Up until that point I had only stood three times assisted by two other people, and only been out of bed to sit in a chair once. I had stood assisted long enough for them to get a wheel chair under me to take me to have a shower, which was done in the chair, and that was the first time going on a toilet as well. All the time I had the security that if I fell there would be people strong enough to help get me up.

Anyway the decision to move me down was made; However the midwives were worried about caring for me as I had so many issues, so they put me in the private room closest to the nurses station, and sent me with my own ICU nurse. The poor nurse had hardly anything to do. I didn't need anything, I wasn't interested in eating, I couldn't sleep, and obs where only every two hours. So we spent most of her time talking while she held my baby.

However that night when her shift was over was when I actually needed her- I needed to use the toilet. The nurse that I had assisting me during the night shift was in her 60's and she wasn't sure she could help me, so she went and asked another nurse to assist her. The nurse she brought back was in her 70's. So I had these two elderly women helping me to the toilet, I felt like I should have been helping them to the toilet! Oh and the joys of having someone else wipe your bottom for you simply cannot be explained in text!

Here is a picture of the walking frame I used while learning to walk again.

The Nursing staff at Maternity were very lovely, and treated me really well. I think mostly because they felt so sorry for me. At that point I had staples in holding my stomach together, stoma bag collecting the lymphatic fluid pouring out of my groin incision, a bladder bag to help my bladder heal, a drip, and two drainage bags collecting the excess blood and gunk(technical name) from my wound. So even rolling over in the bed was a task no stay untangled. Then there was the vomiting- I had trouble keeping anything down, if they heard me vomit the nurse would rush in and put a pillow on my stomach and hold it down with their body weight to help easy the pain. I would have felt sorry for me too.

Some of the miscommunications from Doctors was a bit challenging. After 14 days post-op, I was due to have a test to see if my bladder was healed enough for me to have my bag out, well one of the doctors told the night nurses that I needed to be nil by mouth for the test (wrong information) So the night nurses gave me my medication (Pain relief) and then took the water away for the night. Shortly after I vomited and lost the medication and the water. By the time morning came I was dehydrated. Feeling very weak, and even though they had then worked out the mistake, by that time I wasn't able to keep any water down, or medication, or pain relief, and in a world of pain from the vomiting. So then I needed to be started on a drip, to get my hydration back up, which included a drip of panadol ( I didn't know they had it in drip form!), electrolytes, and minerals to help pick me back up. After all of that it turned out that the test hadn't even been booked for that day.

During the healing process there where many shattering moments for me. One of which was failing my bladder test. My bladder hadn't healed enough and was leaking into my body, so I had to keep my bladder bag in for longer, which for me was really a dignity issue, and I really longed to just be able to just go to the toilet. In the end I kept the the bag for 7 weeks, and when it finally came out, my muscles where quite sore because the bladder hadn't been used for so long, and my body had to rebuild my walking muscles because I had to get up many times more to go to the toilet. :)

The vomiting didn't stop once I got home it continues which again was both painful and unpleasant, I would vomit for so many reasons, anytime I went to the toilet I would vomit, in many ways it was a bad joke, the pain medication would clog me up, so I would then have to take something to make me regular, then I would have to take something to help control the vomiting, and all I wanted to do was go to the toilet!

Bleeding was another issues. It was finally time for me to go home, I had arranged for someone to come and get me and take me home. I had showered and put on clothes for the first time in 4 weeks, I was wearing underwear even which I had only been able to do for the last 3 days, due to all the drains and bags. I went to the toilet and then I started bleeding from the vagina. I hadn't had any bleeding at all the whole time I was there. Dread went through me, I was ready to go home, I finally arrived at the day that I could leave the hospital. I couldn't leave on my own steam, but I could be wheeled out of there, and now this. The doctor was called and checked me, they wanted me to stay for longer to work out what it was, they did an internal and couldn't find anything; and the lady did say however that they couldn't make me stay. I decided to go home anyway, hoping that it was a one-off. Well it wasn't. Every time I went to the toilet I would bleed, and it wasn't just a light bleed, blood would actually pour out of me. It sounded like I was peeing, but of course I wasn't because I couldn't pee. It was blood. So two days later the bleeding wouldn't stop so I had to go back into hospital. That was a crushing moment, I just wanted this journey to end, I wanted to get better and start dealing with the changes in my life. Anyway after a night in the hospital and a few tests it was discovered that I had blood pooling inside of me from all the operations- there must have been an opening in the top of my internal wound that was allowing the pooling blood to come out. The doctors said there was nothing that they could really do about it, they could go in and try and drain it out, but then they risked damage to my bowel, and I really didn't want to have that, so the best idea was to leave and let my body reabsorb the pooling blood, and release the rest.
I'm now 6 months out from the trauma and it has finally stopped.

Breastfeeding was also very problematic, and I wasn't able to establish a breastfeeding relationship with Marcella which has been one of the most crushing parts of this journey for me. I have previously breastfed all the other 6 children for at least 4 months, and when I learnt what my boy needed nutritionally I fed them until 24 months. I had other NICU babies and had experience with teaching babies to breastfeed, expressing, tube feeding, and so on. I wasn't an unexperienced mother that just gave up. Marcella was quite good at attaching for a prem bub, but tired easily, but because of all that went on my milk just never came in properly; I was exhausted with very little strength. I really needed someone to be with me every couple of hours to express, and help me feed marcella. Some of the NICU nurses were so nice and would stand next to me for the almost hour it took to feed Marcella using a supply line, other NICU nurses where not so good, and told me that I was holding my baby back trying to breastfeed her. Some nurses made sure that as soon as it was morning they would bring the baby down to me because I could walk up there, whilst other nurses didn't bring her down, even when they were phoned my nurses several times to bring the baby down! I remember one day I didn't get to see Marcella from 9pm - 4pm when someone came to visit me, and walked up to the nicu and got her for me. Now 6 months on it still breaks my heart that I can't breastfeed. I did try relactating but was unsuccessful. I'm sure that I probably could have got there if I had the tools that I needed to at the beginning of the journey.

I think the greatest heartbreak for me is that I can't have any more babies. Yes I've been through all of this pain, hurt, worry and stress, but I would do in again in a heart beat for another blessing. I think that some of the issues bonding with Marcella, are things that I couldn't do with Marcella, like breastfeeding wouldn't worry me as much if there was the prospect of having another one. I think I will grieve this hurt for a long time to come still.

Christina.

Miracles of Birth

Since coming home from hospital and sharing some of what I have lived through, I have been thinking that it would be good to sit down and share the blessings and miracles that we experienced through Marcella's births. There are many. Here is my list of some of the miracles we experienced, it is by no means a complete list, and I'm sure my heavenly Father has heaps more that I we just didn't see, and was preparing for months. Many prayers where answered.

I guess the first place to start would be that both Marcella and I are alive. During this experience there were so many times that both of us could have died, and if fact we lost one baby.

* Marcella in her own right is a miracle and we love her dearly.
* The obedience of our children during the time I needed them. I was sitting in my chair crocheting, then I experienced a few Braxton Hicks Contractions, I had been having them for several weeks. They were strong but not painful in any way. Then all of a sudden there was a gush, and I knew straight away what it was. I closed my eyes and had one of those deep sighs, now it all begins! I ran to the toilet hoping it was like the other bleeds, and gush and then it would stop. Well it didn't stop, it was pouring out. I knew I had to get off the toilet. So I ran to the bathroom (right next door) and put a towel between my legs. Now this is where the children helped me. I was in the bathroom with blood pouring out. I asked the children to bring me the phone, and the laptop. They did that STRAIGHT away, with out fuss and questioning, they just did it and did it quickly. Next I told Sophie to run next door and ask the neighbour to come over and help. She did that really well.
* Our neighbour was home. It's not unusual for them to be home, but thankfully this wasn't one of those times that they were out and our neighbour was able to come over and help with the children.
* Then while calling the Ambos, I message Ben to come home, I was bleeding. I also messaged my friend to come help I was bleeding. We had discussed early that if it was an emergency I could call her. Now here is the miracle, both Ben and my friend where on face book at that time. My husband didn't have a mobile phone, so facebook was our only communication tool during the day. Now normally Ben would have gotten my message a little while after I sent it, but that day he got it straight away, and started running home. My friend who is also a busy homeschooling mum, happened to be on facebook at that exact moment as well, and was able to pack up her four children quickly and come. For me those are two great miracles, because I was able to go into theatre knowing that my children where being looked after and My husband was able to say a quick goodbye for me before theatre. We both had no idea that it would be nearly a week before we saw each other awake.

Now for the next part of the journey I was unconuious so wasn't aware of the miracles and the prays that were said on my behalf.

Ben's Account of the miracles while I was under.
* The miracle of having present and available baby sitters.
* The facebook group that I had set up to share our baby news, which was a good communication tool.
* The support the Chaplains gave to Ben and my Mother.
* People all over the world where praying for me and my baby.
* All the blood that was needed was available to save my life.
* Marcella had an APGAR Score of 4 when she was born, and it quickly became normal.
* Marcella didn't need too much help when she was born, and other than being 4 weeks early, she was developed enough for life outside of womb and only had to learn to feed.
* The skilled surgeons and medical staff, including the quick responding Ambos.
* All the kind staff that where so nice to me.
* All the friends and family that supported my husband during the time I was in hospital.

Sometimes the miracles were big and life saving, and sometime seeming small like having the chapel turn up at just the right moment to help me through an emotional breakdown, or friends turning up with broth and healing prays and words to feed my body and my soul.

A Big thanks goes out to all those that have keep us in their thoughts and Prayers.

Memories of ICU

I said my last post that I would share some of the things that I went through during my recovering from the birth of my daughter. So here goes. For me, the last things I can remember where in the operating theatre. Asking the date so I would know when Marcella was born, next was being prep quickly for the operation to get her out. I had people putting needles and IV's in both arms, having another doctor do a speculum to see what they could see, being asked heaps of questions like when was the last time I eat. While being asked these questions one the of the assistants prepping me started waxing down stairs. This was a huge surprise. There was no, I'm going to do this, just rip, totally unexpected. With other c-sections I had been numb before they did that, so didn't even know that they had done it. This time because they where putting me under, which is less safe for the baby they did all the prep work and left putting me under until the very last minute. While all this was going on I was having contractions and blood was gushing out. I then remember the Anaesthetist telling me that there would be someone putting pressure on my throat so that no food would come up and choke me, and that it may feel like I'm being suffocated by the mask as I go under, and it did. I remember taking in as big and as deep of breaths as I could to get that feeling over with quickly. I only remember having to take 3 big, deep breaths.

The next thing I knew I was slowly waking up with wires, iv's, tubes, and bruises everywhere. I was still on life support. I remember having very little strength at all and being in a world of pain. The breathing tube was down my throat, and there was a soft board in my mouth. It was rigged up so that if I tried to pull the tube out I would start to gag, which alerted the nurse to what I was up to. All I wanted to do was get that tube out of my mouth. Then I had what I thought was a strong need to go to the toilet and poo. I just felt so panicked because I needed to go to the toilet but I could get my message out. Inside I was screaming for help, I need to go to the toilet. I think it took a while before anyone could understand me. When they finally did someone explained to me "no, it's ok, you don't need to go to the toilet. You have bag collecting you poo. That's what your feeling". Oh finally I could breath a sign of relief I wasn't going to poop myself. I didn't have a clue how I would go to the toilet in that state anyway. I didn't even have enough strength to touch my face. I would take all my strength to get my hand anywhere near my face to get the breathing tube out.

I was be in and out of consciousness. Every time I woke I would see a nurse sitting at the end of my bed writing notes. I don't have a clue about what on. After what seemed like several hours the doctors finally came and gave to order to get my breathing tube out. Oh gosh that was a relief I was so happy and scared about what it would feel like getting it out. When it did come out I vomited every where. I was covered in vomit. I had a feeding tube down my nose which they took out the next day.

Shortly after I had my breathing tube taken out the men arrive to help the nurse clean me up. The men are the strong arms of the ICU. They would come every two hours to roll me. My gosh the names I would call them inside my head. It was so painful. They would roll me on my side, and I would spend the next two hours rolling myself back onto my back, and much less painful position, and just when I finally go more comfortable, they would come back and roll me to the other side. I didn't like seeing them at all. At that time was on a steady follow of Morphine.

The next day, because I was awake the NICU were going to bring Marcella down to see me and try to get feeding going. So ICU moved me to a private room. I remember the room so well. On the left side of me was a wall of windows. I was so tired and weak. Every time I feel asleep I would have nightmares, and I would have to use all my might to jolt myself out of the nightmare and wake up. Only to drift back into sleep and have it happen all over again. Every time I closed my eyes it felt like someone was standing next to me, and not a friend. I would open my eyes and check, and there was no one there. One dream I keep having over and over again was, me lying in the bed, and the window next to my bed would suddenly turn into a roller door (like a garage door). Then I would get out of bed and walk out the door. I was worried that I would get lost and didn't want to walk out the door but I couldn't stop myself from doing it. Outside it was dark and night time, I couldn't see anything other than a few feet in front of me, there was just grass. Like being in the country, it was quiet and dark, no lights other than one near the door, like a sensor light. Then directly outside the room was a hill. At the top of the hill was an aboriginal man playing the didgeridoo. At the bottom of the hill was an orchid. Then from behind me my Dad (who has passed away) would appear and say he planted that Orchard. I got the feeling it was his favourite plant. It was at about this point in the dream/nightmare that I would wake up. I call it a nightmare because I always felt panicked and scared during and after it. Now looking back I wonder if it's a bit of memory from my time on life support. The idea of leaving this room, not being able to stop it, and being really worried I wouldn't be able to get back. I hadn't been told what happen at this point.

When they moved me to this room, they gave me a morphine pump to help with the pain. However I was so weak for all the blood, and operations I wasn't strong enough to press the button to give myself a dose. They had it set up so I could have a dose every 5 mins. But I could only have a dose when someone walked into my room. It took another day til I was strong enough to get that darn button down. After the first night in that room my poop pipe keep having explosions. It was very embarrassing and smelly. So the Nurse decided we should just take it out. So that was one less thing inside/attached to my body. However it took a little while for me to regain control over my bowels, and trust what was going to come out my butt. In the process of doing so I had a few accidents. The first nurse I had was so lovely about it all. So just got on with cleaning it up and keep reassure me that it was ok and not to worry. However the next nurse I had was not so happy about the situation and while cleaning up the mess was quiet ruff with my down stairs area and rubbed so hard that she made me very sore and bleed. It was another pain to add to the all ready painful experience. Not only was it painful, it was very degrading. It's already a really horrible position to be in. To go from an fairly able person ( on bed rest) to not being able to toilet yourself is an awful experience in it self, with out feeling even more degraded. Another unusual experience was having someone brush my teeth for me. That was weird and no something I would like to repeat at all. Also being bathed in a bed, having my hair washed in bed with shower cap type thing, and eventually having someone shower me.

It finally came time for me to start physiotherapy and start the process of sitting up, standing, and then trying to walk again. Oh gosh another world of pain. Not only the physical pain but also the technical pain of managing all my accessories, I had an iv in each arm, my catheter bag, two blood drainage bags, and a stoma bag collecting Lymphatic fluid from the open incision on my groin. My physio was very nice, and spoke in a gentle reassuring voice, which helped the process.

Marcella was brought down to me around every 4 hours during the day, so we could try and feed, but being early she didn't stay awake for long, and I didn't have much strength to hold her for long. We started expressing, the lactation consultant had expressed colostrum and gave it to her will I was still on life support, and expressed me a few other times, they did however have to through the milk away because of the drugs that they had me on.

After 5 days on life support, and 3 days in a private room, I was released from ICU and moved to maternity ward where I could be closer to my baby. I stayed there for another three weeks. The Staff in ICU were on the most part very lovely, caring and supportive. Out of all the Nurses and attendants I had during my time there, there was only that one that it more difficult. I thank them very much for all their time, and care in what was a very hard time.

Marcella's Birth Story, from Ben's Point of View.

From time to time things happen in our lifetimes that test our faith. This is the story of an experience that tested mine that resulted in another glorious blessing to our family.

My wife and I are 33 years old and we are already the proud parents of six children. We are proud to have a big family and we love the joy our children bring to us; and even though no child of ours has been an 'accident', this time when my wife told me she was pregnant it was a bit of a shock. It seems we were in for much more of a shock as time went by. After a woeful first trimester filled with incapacitating weakness, bleeding, nausea and vomiting, we were all glad for the promise of a reprieve in the second trimester. The third trimester however, brought some more significant problems for us. By 20 weeks she had already had about 10 bleeds which would mean a trip to the hospital each time to check that our baby was still alive. At the 20 week scan she was diagnosed with placenta previa, at which point the doctors where hoping it would move during the remainder of the pregnancy. Around the 32 week mark she had another scan at which the doctors found that Christina had complete placenta previa. A condition that means that the placenta was lying unusually low in your uterus and covering Christina's cervix. Doctors informed Christina that a caesarean section would definitely be needed, she could not deliver naturally. After this diagnosis, the doctors at the hospital kept a careful eye on Christina, checking week by week to see if there was any change in her status. Christina, at about this time decided to set up a facebook group to let people know what was going on in her pregnancy (family and church friends often would ask her how she was going, and found this the best way to tell those close to us what was going on). This was her third post after creating the group:

'Welcome to the group! I'm currently 32 +5 weeks pregnancy with another blessing. From my last ultra sound (a week ago) I have grade 4 placenta previa, with the placenta over my old c-section scars, which means there is a possibility of having placenta accreta. Our baby has also been diagnosed with a clubbed left foot, we won't know the degree of until birth. I'm booked in for a c-section on 25 of June, which will make me 37 weeks. As long as I don't have bleeding before that. Other wise delivery could be any day'.

As it turned out, the days ticked slowly over and it seemed less and less likely that Christina would be able to deliver naturally, and the placenta accreta issue, I found out, occurs when the placenta attaches too deep in the uterine wall but it does not penetrate the uterine muscle. Each doctor Christina consulted closer to the time appeared more and more concerned. It was firmly decided by the doctors that Christina would definitely need another ceasarean. The facebook group turned into a bit of a forum to ask people start praying, and to express her annoyance at having to jab herself (she suffered with prenatal diabetes too). 18 days before the C-section date she wrote this:

'As if there enough differences in this pregnancy baby is lying in half breech, half transverse position. Nothing can be simple and straight forward in this pregnancy'.

Having a baby in full breach position would prove much easier for the doctors to resolve than the position it had gotten itself into. Despite all of this happening, it was strangely humorous clearly seeing the baby's head sticking out of Christina's tummy, with the rest of her body curled up seeming to want to conserve space. The doctors also diagnosed our baby with Club foot, which worried christina a little, and the spectre of a forced hysterectomy loomed as well, as we both wanted the option of having more children as much as the ability to stop.

As the pregnancy progressed, Christina spent more and more time in bed, watching movies and crocheting. Facebook became one of the only links to the outside world, since she was unable to drive to places (I don't have my licence due to health problems). When online, Christina said little leading up to the birth except '15 days to go' or '8 days to go'. She struggled with lots of anxiety, feeling nervous about the operation. She did have a conversation or two with me about her wishes should she not make it through the operation, which concerned a bit, but I pushed the thoughts to the back of my mind.

With one week to go, on a Tuesday, I was sitting at TAFE during class time when I saw a sudden facebook message from Christina: It went like this

Christina
Help.
Help.
Ben Mathewson
What?
Christina Mathewson
Come
Home now
Ben Mathewson
Do you need me home now?
Ok.
Christina Mathewson
Now Bleeding
Ben Mathewson
Coming
Ben Mathewson
Im nearly there
Have you called anyone?

I packed my bags very quickly and ran home. On the way I quickly wrote Im nearly there
Have you called anyone? No reply. While running home I heard the ominous sign of the Ambulance siren. When I had got there the ambulance staff were loading her up with a towel around her, about to drive to the hospital. Christina had also rung her best friend who was on her way over to look after our other children. The ambulance drove off after I got some instructions from Christina, and I caught a lift to the hospital with my kind next door neighbour after Christina's friend arrived. My head was a blur. I didn't know what was going to happen next. It was comforting talking about something else in the car.

When I got to the hospital I ran out and talked to the ambulance people, asking them for her. They told me to go upstairs to find out where she was. Doctors directed me to theatre and told me I could only go in quickly to say a few words to Christina before she went in. Reassured to see her, but heart still racing, I told her to 'stay calm', and 'it will all be okay', without really having the same confidence. After this, time seemed to drag. I was shown to a bed in a ward and continually asked by worried looking nurses if I wanted a cup of tea. After a couple of hours a nurse came to see me and tell me the baby is fine, and beautiful, and can be found in the nursery. Marcella Daphne Providence was born into the world 7 pounds, without sign of club foot, and perfect in every way, entirely unaware as babies are of the chaos around her. When I asked the nurse about Christina's wellbeing they said 'we don't know yet'. After about 5 hours of waiting I posted this under her name.

'please keep praying for christina. She is in hospital now. More news to come soon. (Ben)'

After I had nursed the baby for a little while and spend 7 hours in the hospital the nurses told me there was 'nothing I could do at this point' and that I may as well go home'. I took their advice and went home. Running on junk food and adrenaline all day I pondered what to tell the children. When I got home, christina's best friend had the house cleaned up and the children ready for bed. My oldest Sophie (9) was the one who was most worried. I told her that 'mummy was still sick, but the doctors were looking after her'. After trying to keep a smile on my face as if everything was normal, I was able to get 5 out of my six children to bed. My youngest (2) wrestled with me in the bed and screamed uncontrollably until 11 o'clock. After he'd finally quietened down I fell fast asleep.

I awoke two hour later to the sound of a male voice at the end of my bed, and someone firmly grabbing my foot to get my attention.
'Sir, SIR, it's officer.... someone here. I need you to wake up sir!'
After my eyes adjusted and I had finished shouting in fear, I discovered a policeman at the end of my bed.
'What!? What?! Who are you?'
'I'm officer 'such-and-such' (I found out later it was about 1 o clock and I STILL don't remember his name) and It's very important that you ring the hospital'
After stumbling, bleary eyed to the phone, and after the officer had repeated the number several times until my brain could comprehend it, I rang the hospital.

'I think that you need to come down here. We are doing all that we can, but your wife has lost a lot of blood and she might not survive'
There was no way I could get a babysitter at 1:00 in the morning.
'I'll come as soon as I can'. I said.


Not being able to go back to sleep I rang our friend at 6 in the morning and said that Christina was in trouble and I needed a babysitter as soon as I could. Once she had organised her own children she was over at our house by 7:00 as my second oldest (age 8) had just woken up. I made a decision, because my children needed to know the truth, and I didn't want them to resent me if Christina had died.
'Your mummy might die' I said to her, 'but the doctors are looking after her'. Perhaps because she had woken up, or because she was the calm, quiet child it didn't seem to register with her. I was trying to hold it together and not cry, so I changed the subject to the TV show she was watching.

When I got to the hospital the doctors told me that Christina was in a critical but stable condition, and they had stopped the bleeding, but she was 'not out of the woods yet' and would still be in theatre until 9. Distraught, I rang the hospital chaplain, and He said he would pray over christina. He came, and once Christina was back in intensive care he put oil on her head and prayed that she would live. Finally being face to face with Christina did not set my heart at ease. She was looking grey and had tubes protruding from everywhere, including a machine to help her breathe. I knew then what 'critical but stable' meant. I was asked to ring her mother which I did.
Once that chaplain had gone, another came to replace his shift. I spent hours talking to this kindly lady, just offloading and trying to express my anxiety and grief at what had happened.

After this, I waited at the hospital in my little room trying to rest, and watching TV while staff continued to fuss around me. I was asked at least 10 times a day whether I wanted a cup of tea. The staff cared for me and the neonatal nursery told me I needed to take pictures of all of the baby's 'first' things first baths, first cuddles etc, so that Christina could feel part of her story 'if she survives' I thought, but tried to scrub that thought away from my head. I was overwhelmed. And as much as I loved this little baby, I wanted her mum to be fine too. By that evening, and after many tears in private places I had an assurance from doctors that they had things under control. I wrote this post to our facebook friends

Hello, it's ben here again. It has been a very difficult day today, but I want to say thank you for everyone who prayed. I got to the hospital at 6 a.m. and the doctors gave a less than 30% of her surviving. She was in a critical condition. Right now, it looks like they have isolated her bleeding problem and they are feeling much more confident she will pull through. With your prayers and friendship, she has and will pull the rest of the way through, and my very disturbed spirit feels much more at peace now. There is still a small chance she will bleed again so the doctors are still watching her closely, but it is fair to say the battle is almost over. Thanks again. Christina and I are thankful to have such valuable friends. (Ben).

In the meantime, many things had happened in our family. My friends, and especially Christina's best friend, organised trips to the dentist for my oldest, meals to be delivered when I was at home (I am a pretty poor cook, but this ordeal has shown me how to cook at least. Our friends in homeschooling group and church groups organised babysitting, cleaning, prayer and the support of 'just someone to talk to'.

During that evening the doctors informed me that the following day they would be taking the packing off christina's stomach. The doctors informed me that they 'may have' isolated the bleeding and that if there is no infection and no continual bleeding, then she would be on the slow road to recovery. At 12 that day- 3 days after delivery date; the surgeon came to see me with a smile on his face, and said that Christina's progress was good, and that there was no infections. After another three days the doctors removed the tubes and Christina was able to slur out 'I love you' to two of the children I had brought to visit her. After another 2 days doctors moved her out of intensive care and onto the maternity ward! I found out through talking to emergency staff that Christina needed her entire body weight of blood replacing four times over, and had effectively drained the whole state's supply of O Negative blood! On top of all this I found out that she had to undergo a forced hysterectomy and has some damage to the bladder where the placenta had grown through the Uterus.In total she had 5 days on life support.

Time passed and after about 4 weeks in hospital Doctors gave her the all clear to come home, which she was overjoyed about, despite the fact that she was still toting a bladder bag. The day after, however, she had to be rushed to the hospital with another bleed. The anxiety I felt rose up strongly again within me. She stayed overnight and the following day the doctors gave the verdict that it was 'just the body trying to get rid of waste materials'. 'No more panic!!' I thought! She came home the following day and little of consequence happened after that. Christina, as it turned out, would go through a roller coaster of emotions and various sicknesses as her body adjusted to the pain of the trauma and all of the blood transfusions. She slept a lot and she still sleeps a lot as we try to forge a way through, finding a way to get back to 'normal life' whatever that is; and we are looking forward to a pain free life, some time in the future.

From time to time things happen in our lifetimes that test our faith. I hope for our families' sake that testing is over for a while.

Ben Mathewson.

If you want to read more from Ben, the check out his blog Imagination Infinity 

Placenta Previa and Percreta

My Journey started at 7 weeks on one of my daughters birthday, I experienced my first bleed and loss of clots, one the size of a big lemon. We later found out that we lost one of our twins. Because it was my daughters birthday My husband and I took our children to MacDonalds for breakfast for a birthday treat, and we knew that we would probably spend the rest of the day at the hospital and wanted to at least make some of the day special. I assumed that I had miscarried our baby, but because I was O neg I needed to go to the hospital and have an anti-d injection, just in case. When they came back with my blood tests the doctor was very surprised at how high my HCG levels were. She explained that they were really high for a normal pregnancy, let alone someone that was having a miscarriage. So they booked me in for U/S the following week. During the ultrasound the technician discovered a live baby, and a pool of blood, a subchronic hemorrhage, and a space where she explained looked like a another egg had started to implant. With so many mixed feels it was a challenge to deal with. Some of our family are not very supportive when it comes to us having children, so at that point we had only told close friends that we where expecting. But then when you go through something like this, what do you say, "I might be expecting", I'm not sure if we will have a live baby at the end of this journey. I remember clearing wanting to tell people that we were having another blessing, but then at the same time I didn't want to turn around that tell these same people who didn't want us to have a baby to start with, that actually we lost it. I remember Christmas day very clearly, having to get through the whole thing pretending that everything was ok, putting on the happy christmas face, (not sharing we were pregnant, didn't want to ruin anyones christmas) but at the same time, bleeding and having to keep it to myself.

I then went on to have about another 10 bleeds up, with each bleed I would have to up to the hospital to check that I still had a live baby on board, until I got to the point where I could feel baby moving, it was really quite stressful. People would see me at the hospital and ask why I was there, it was never a happy answer, until 22 weeks at which point the fresh bleeding stopped. I has brown old bleeding the whole time, there wasn't a day since it started that I didn't have to wear a pad. I was then diagnosed with gestational Diabetes at 22 weeks and required insulin to help keep it under control. The pregnancy progressed fairly smoothy after that, I was put on pelvic rest, and total I had a low lying placenta, it wasn't until the 20 week scan that it was confirmed that I had placenta previa. I was lucky I had a friend that had recently gone through the same thing, she had 7 weeks hospital bedrest, and then a c-section. So I asked her so many questions, I think in the early weeks there was hardly a day that I didn't send her a question. I wanted to be prepared. With 6 children at home, I wanted to prepare my family in the event that I would have a long hospital stay. As the time progressed the placenta didn't move, at my 32 week scan, which felt like forever to come, it seem to settle more into the complete placenta previa position. After speaking with one of the doctors, they didn't seem to think that I would have accreta because the U/S report sounded like that placenta was more to the back and side, and not covering my scar. My next scan at 36 weeks, suggested that it might be over the scar. So they said there could be a possibility that it might be accreta, but they didn't think it was very likely.
During my pregnancy I had set myself some goals to get to, which really helped me. My first was to make it to viability, 24 weeks. Then 28 weeks, but my big one was to make to 32 weeks, because that mean all being well with baby I would have to go to Hobart which was 3 hour drive away, and I wouldn't see my family and they wouldn't see me until it was time to go home. My husband can't drive, and we didn't have a vehicle that would make it possible to be able to make that drive, so I would be on my own for delivery and everything else. I was so thankful when that day came and passed.

At 36 weeks and a few days I was sitting at home crocheting when I felt a gush. I had that split second of dread, I knew what it was. I had just been experiencing some Braxton Hicks for about 20 mins before hand. I ran to the toilet to discover blood pouring out. I was home alone with my 6 children. I immediately called out to my children to get me the phone, which they did really quickly. I call the ambos straight away, and messaged my husband and a friend to come. One of my children ran next door and got help from the neighbour. The Ambo arrive with in 10 mins, put in a drip and rushed me to the hospital. Blood was still pouring out. On the way to the hospital contractions started, I remember telling the ambo man with me that my baby was in breech, and if the placenta started coming to just reach in grab my babies feet and pull her out!, I think the guy was bit paniced by that and told the driver to go fast. On the way the ambos had call the hospital and they prepped an OR for my arrival. I was rushed straight into theatre. There were so many people there. The midwife got the doppler out and tried to find my babies heart beat. She couldn't find it. I had a quick thought, and told her my baby was in breech, and which point she moved the doppler and was able to find her heart beat, the whole room breathe again. People where rush all over the place, one doctor was asking me questions, while another started waxing me, another did a speculum. It was all systems go. At this point I knew I was having a Hysterectomy. The last thing I knew I was asking the date so that I would know when my baby was born. Little did I know at that point that actually being able to see my baby was lying on a knifes edge. I had eaten recently that day, So when they put the GA over my face I had one nurse with her hand on my neck to stop any food coming back up while I was going to sleep. I had that feeling of being strangled, I knew the only way to get out of the feeling was to breath as deeply as I could, and get to sleep fast.

The next thing I knew I was waking up in ICU. I had been asleep for 5 days. The doctors has so much trouble controlling the bleeding, I had 4 operations to bring it under control, had my blood replaced 4 times, using all the o negative blood in the state, I used 54 units of blood, 80 blood products. My bladder was invaded, and the urethra had completely come out and had to be re-implanted, as well as cut in my groin to help stop the bleeding. The medical team had to work hard to keep me from bleeding out and dying. There was many times when they didn't think I would make it through. In recovery my doctors told me how worried they were that I wouldn't make it. He explained that it was like he was just holding me here by my heels. The doctor giving me the blood said to my husband that there has only been one other person that he has given that much blood to and they survived. My family members where of course very worried not sure if I would make it through. Recovery was very painful. I remember waking up in ICU and having the attendants come every 2 hours and turn me. That was extremely painful, and for the next two hours I would slowly work myself back to a position that was more comfortable, only to have them come back and roll me on the other side, again really painful position. That went on for a few days. I also remember waking with tubes, breathing and feeding equipment down my throat. It was rigged up in such a way that if I tried to pull it out it would make me gag and let the nurses know what I was up too. Finally it all go taken out and made do an huge vomit. When I was well enough to be moved to an ICU room they changed me over from continues morphine to button operated morphine that I could press every 5 mins to get another dose, however I was so weak from all the operations, surgery and drugs, I couldn't press that button, so the only time I go a dose of pain relief was when someone visited me or someone passed by my room. There are so many more experiences that I share about this ordeal. Too many for today, but you can find more my story in other blog posts.

I finally got to met my baby on day 6 of her life, I could only hold her for a few mins because I was so weak. She was the smallest out of all my children, and had a look of her own then. Now she looks just like the other children. For me this was my first visit, for her it was her third. The Nicu staff brought her down on day 2 and put her on my chest, and took pictures, at this point they where not sure that I would live, and where trying to create as many memories for my baby as they could. Also well and try and help me recover.

We both did however. Marcella was born on the 18th June, at 36 weeks. It took 4 weeks to get home after the birth, I went home with a bladder bag and Stoma bag which was used over the cut in my groin to collect all the lymphatic fluid that was pouring out of my wound. Marcella is doing well with no real problems. It took 7 weeks for my bladder to heal. It has healed the best that it ever will. I have lost some function in my right kidney, because of the way they had to react the urethra, they couldn't attach back to the top, they had to put it in the side, when I go to the toilet some the urine goes back up the urethra and into the kidney, so I need to make sure that I stay on top of any infections that might arise from that.

It turns out that I had developed percreta, and it was growing through my uterus. I'm glad to be alive and have the chance to raise my children.

UpDate: I am now the President for the Australian Chapter of the Hope for Accreta Foundation.
You can read my updated version http://hfaausnz.blogspot.com.au/2014/04/christinas-story-of-placenta-previa-and.html

If you have placenta previa or accreta, increta, or percreta, and want to talk, please feel free to contact me via email. Christina - thejoyofthehome@gmail.com

Xavier's Birth Story

A year and 6 months after giving birth to Isaac I found myself pregnant again, and Yes! again we were very excited to be expecting baby number 6 for our family. Like every pregnancy I have had so far, I was sick. I probably was able to manage it better than in other pregnancies, I think each time I have gotten better and better at managing it. Also some things have changed to make things easier, now the supermarket delivers to us, so I didn't have to battle the urge to vomit while walking around the supermarket to get our daily things. :0) We also had a great group of friends that lovingly brought us some meals to help make life easier. The pregnancy was filled with many ups and downs. We were excited to find out that we were having another son, 3 and 3. 3 girls and 3 boys, even bedrooms for while. I avoided the doctors for mosts of the pregnancy and I had consider having my baby to home in bath, if the pregnancy was going well. However that wasn't meant to be.

During the pregnancy I had been monitoring my blood sugars and I knew that I had developed Gestational Diabetes again, and with cutting out sugar and grains from my diet I was able to control it. However when I was 31 -32 weeks we moved house, which was very tiring for me. We moved on the Saturday, unpacked some and settled in a bit on the Sunday, and Monday I was back at the house with all the children cleaning. Oh gosh I was so spent. I had some lovely ladies come over and help me clean some of the house. Even though I was very tired I felt bad just sitting while they cleaned, So I pushed myself to work more than I really should have. That night while using the toilet I discovered blooding. I was so tired I seriously considered ignoring it. I did however know better than that, so I called a friend who was kind enough to take me into the hospital.

While at the hospital I had to answer all the hard questions, like why I hadn't been back to the doctor in a while?, why didn't I have the anti - D injection and so on. Anyhow they hooked me up to the monitor, I was having contractions, thankfully the bleeding had stopped, but it looked like baby could be born anytime, so they gave a dose of steroids, and I had another dose the same time the next day. I was in hospital for 2 nights, and then was able to go home. Lots of doctors appointments and tests for the next week.

Well little did anyone know that I would have a reaction to those steroid injections. My reactions pretty much stopped my pancreas from working. My blood sugars went through the roof, no matter what I eat. SO I found myself on insulin within a few days. Then at my next check up to 34 weeks my babies heart rate would not come down, it was staying high, showing that baby was stressed. So I wouldn't be leaving the hospital that day. As it turned out they check my bloods and my body was in high ketosis, and we were very close to lossing him. That probably was one of the worst nights during my pregnancy. That night they keep me in Labour and Delivery incase they had to rush me off to deliver him. Once they took me upstairs to labour and delivery they hooked me up to the fetal monitor, put in a drip of glucose, and finger pricked me every hour for 24 hours, and injected me with insulin every 4 hours. I had so many needles that night. It really was like torture. Every time I would fall asleep I would be woken about ten minutes later to be given another needle. Then it would take me a while to get back off to sleep, only to have it happen again. Thankfully they were able to get everything under control, and about week later I was able to go home. I then had weekly checks of my blood sugar and babies heart rate. At 35 weeks the doctors order a ultra sound scan to check for size and fluid. During the scan they estimated that baby was around 9lb with 5 weeks left to go. Another big bub. After the scan the technician said, just wait while I check if they want to send you home or check you first. A few minutes later she came back and said yes they would like to check you me first. So off I went back to labour and delivery. Well when I got there the doctor explained to me that on the ultra sound it looked like the baby had fluid under his skin, which could mean so many things, from an infection, to water on the brain. He then went on to say that they couldn't be 100% sure with that scanning equipment and they wouldn't be able to get me into better scanning equipment until monday (it was thursday) and they thought that if it was what fluid under the skin, that my baby wouldn't last the weekend... So the best bet was to deliver him tomorrow. Wow that was a lot to take in on my own.

I can't say how thankful I was to have supportive friends, and a church family. I wasn't allowed to go home. So a lovely couple from our church came and drove my van home. Other friends helped Ben with a meal. The next morning they weren't sure when I would be taken for my c-section so were not able to give me a time for Ben. Mean while Ben was at home trying to organise someone to come and look after the children and drive him in to hospital so that he could be there for birth. Again very thankful to friends that came and looked after the children, and one friend that took some the homeschool event for that day, and brought Ben in. In the end Ben arrived 10 minutes before they came to take me for the op. I was so glad he made it in time. It was made so much easier to go through having him there.

At 10.49 Xavier Gabriel was born 5 weeks early weighting 9lbs 2 oz. So at 5 weeks early he was still bigger than that average new born. He was born with a infection in his blood and holes in his lungs. I was able to see him for a few minutes before they rushed him off to have cpap machine on and iv's put in.

Next came the whirl wind of emotions.

I felt extreme disappointed. People would say things like congratulations on having him, or you did well and I would almost burst into tears, because "I didn't have him. He was cut out of me", " and I didn't do well" I knew full well that I hadn't respected his or my body enough during and before the pregnancy. I didn't do everything with in my power to grow a healthy bub and be a healthy mum. Yes I did things towards the end of the pregnancy to look after myself, but by that time it was not enough and too late. I was reminded of this fact every time I went to see my baby in NICU department. Seeing him with breathing equipment, not being able to hold him. All I could really do for him was hold his hand, sit next to him and express milk.

Over the next 5 days, I was slowly healing, and at day 5 the hospital discharged me as a patient, however I was still able to keep my bed, and stay in the hospital with him. Which was both a blessing and an emotional ride at the same time. I was no longer a patient, so I didn't really belong at the hospital, but at the same time, my baby was a patient so I didn't really belong at home without him, either. I wasn't really concerned about my children at home, because Ben is an awesome father, and I knew they would be well cared for, and we had a team of friends that dropped around meals, did some washing, baby sat so Ben could come and visit me, or pay the bills.

I guess I'm also thankful for what the Lord has put in me as well. While I was having these strong feelings of guilt, I also knew that spending a lot of time crying over it wasn't going to make anything better, wasn't going to change anything, wasn't helping my little man, who was fighting for survival. So I stucked it up and got on with the job of advocating, and caring for him the best I could, in any way that I could. What was happening to him was not nice, and I wasn't going to let him go through any of it alone.

One of things that I had to keep advocating for him on was his size. He was a prem baby in a big babies body. So the nurses and medical staff even friends and family that visited had to be reminded that he is prem. The things that normal full term babies can do, he can't because is isn't ment to doing them yet. Also because of his size putting in iv's that he needed were actually harder. His chubbiness stopped them from being able to see or feel the veins, so they often had to be put them in blind. I remember one doctor having a least 7 goes before finally giving up and asking someone else to have a go. One doctor had to make a small cut in is arm to get at the vein, all without pain relief, because at that stage they couldn't give him anything else. Thankfully I had my wits about me, and was covering his dummy in breast milk, and giving it him over and over, which helped keep him calm.

At a two weeks old Xavier was able to come off the Cpap machine and on to oxygen. He seemed to be doing so well. The hospital then had an emergency deliver of very prem. twins, so Xavier had to move out of his Intensive care bed and moved to another room, to accomodate them. He was in the new room for two days, when on the second day he developed pneumonia, and the test results came back from is blood infection. The bacteria causing the infection were resistant to most common antibiotics, which is what they were using for him. So he had to moved back to intensive care, and put on higher strength antibiotics, with his oxygen turned back up. The life of having a prem. Involves many times when you think you are making progress and then all of a sudden it is turned around, and things are not looking so good. Knowing this information would worry a lot of people. Ben and I keep it mostly between ourselves and those that were praying for us and Xavier.

Going through this was a very isolating experience. I didn't have access to a computer or any of the social networking that I had at home. I only had my mobile that I never had it on when I was with Xavier, and didn't really have the money to call anyone any how. The nurses were mostly very nice, and understanding, but of course you had the occasional one the would be a bit ruff and so on. However mostly I found that very lovely ladies that were there to help and support as much as they could.

Feeding was our next issue. It was very difficult to breastfeed Xavier with all his gear on, so we never had our first breastfeed experience until he was 4 weeks old. It really was hopeless trying while he had his breathing equipment on. So he was finally well enough to come off that at 4 and bit weeks. He finished his antibiotics shortly after that, and the next goal was to get him feeding. I was really thankful that it only took a week to get his trying at every second feed. Every feed was too much. Then finally our senior doctor said, with help of the lactation consultant to just let him go for 24 hours demand feeding. Oh I was so excited, the chance to finally having a some what normal relationship with my son. Over the next few days his weight dropped, and every time I saw his weight had dropped my heart sank. However on say 3 of demand feeding he stopped dropping, he hadn't gained but he hadn't dropped. At that point the doctor decided to let us go home, with the proviso that I would bring him back for another weight check after the week end. I was over the moon. I was so excited, I arranged for a friend to come and take us home, and I didn't call Ben. I though I would surprise him. So we did. We drove home and knocked on the door, the whole family was delighted to see us. The children couldn't believe their eyes. Isaac wouldn't stop hugging and kissing me. It was so sweet. During the 6 weeks I was away I was only able to see all my children together twice, and some of them a few more times, when Ben came in for his weekly visit.


Now a 14 months on, I have a gorgeous little boy, who will be walking soon, that I cherish very much. But also a determination to take control of my health, and change the health of my family for the future. I think this pregnancy and birth experience was one of the many reasons that help me make the leap into starting our GAPS journey.