A rainbow 'appears'... with a fair bit of effort!

Well, a birth story is due!

I was booked in for induction on my due date of 28th July. Was keen to get things going naturally before that day, so the consultant also approved 'stretch and sweeps' from 37 weeks. So, prior to the 28th, I endured 5 sweeps in total! Between sweep 1 and 2, I progressed nicely, getting to 2cm dilated and 50% effaced, so going well. Then, no progress really over the next 3 sweeps. So, the 28th it was!

We went to the hospital at 0830 and were immeditely seen to a side room and put on the monitor and baby girl was doing well:

So we were good to go ahead with the pessary for induction. By half 10 we were all set up and raring to go! Bring on the contractions! I predicted a baby by that night, as did the staff, who reckoned we'd have her before their shift change!

 

A few hours later, I was examined. No change. Another few hours later and we were getting a bit bored, despite visitors!

So we kept waiting..... and waiting...... and waiting......

 

Things were progressing very slowly indeed so I sent Dan home for some sleep at 10pm. By 1.30am, I was feeling crampy and got a smidge excited. Made myself go back to sleep to get rested for some excitement and woke at 4am with more cramps. Told the midwife and went back to bed. Woke at half 6 to........ nothing! Got pretty upset at this point, thinking about how I'd built myself up to taking a baby home on the 28th! At this rate, I'd be taking a baby home on the 30th, which would be the anniversary of Isla's funeral. I found this hard to deal with, as well as the general tiredness and despondency!

 

I was seen by another midwife at 8am, who said they may give me another 6 hours on the pessary 'just to see' and I got quite distressed actually. I told her I couldn't cope with just sitting and waiting for even longer when it clearly wasn't working. She said she'd send the doc in. Half an hour later, the doc who booked the induction came in and said that as soon as my own midwife came in and when they had space on the labour ward, we'd go on down and break my waters! This sounded like progress.

 

So a couple of hours later, we were on the labour ward and filled with renewed excitement. After examination, I was still just 3cm dilated, 4cm at most. My cervix had even managed to move backwards instead of forwards!! But we broke the waters eventually, put in a catheter, attached a monitor to baby's head and progressed to good contractions by about 2pm. They were strong and regular and I was on gas and air after a few hours. Blimey, contractions hurt!!

 

At some point, can't remember precisely, I had the epidural put in. I was FAR beyond my 'natural as possible' birth and the pain was crazy - I was still only 4cm, but having contractions worthy of full labour. This wasn't even considered 'established labour' for goodness sake, yet the pain certainly was! So the epidural was a welcome relief and we settled down to wait for the real deal. They were nice and regular after a while, but I was still not dilating.

 

By 11pm, I was back to my negative state and thinking how stupid it was to be forcing her out when she clearly wasn't ready. Why did I do this to her and me?! The midwives mentioned that if things didn't start progressing, we may have to have another pessary for a few hours or go straight to C-Section. NOT what I wanted at all, despite being so frightened of giving birth.

 

So, yet again despndent, we all went to sleep about 1am - including Dan!

At 3am, I heard the midwives discussing how my contractions had gotten less regular and strong. I could have cried. Was this ever going to happen? Well, clearly yes, but WHEN?!

 

Well, they decided to examine me at about half 3, instead of half 4 in the morning. I was convinced she would find 3-4cm dilation and cervix even further back. The midwife was hoping for 6-8cm. Yeah right!!!

 

Well, you could have picked my chin up off the floor when she announced that I was fully dilated and they could feel her head just there! Time to get things ready! Blimey, this was really about to happen!

So we were ready to push - finally!!

 

Half an hour later of chin to chest pushing, they told me to start panting and stop pushing. I knew this meant her head was pretty much there. A little bit later they told me it the first shoulder was through and I said 'Oh she's coming, she's coming'..... and indeed she was!

 

I won't post the photo of that particular moment, but wow! Here she is moments later, on my chest...

And then skin to skin on daddy...

So we welcomed to the world

 

Caleigh Bridget McKillop.

Date of birth: 30/7/13

Time of birth: 0432

Weight: 9lb 10oz - ouch!!

 

Ecstatic doesn't even cover it! Here are some more shots taken since that magical moment...

 

 

 

 

 Our rainbow...

 With Uncle Mike and Aunty Rose

 

 

With Grammie (aka Zippy)

With daddy today:

In her bouncy chair:

Hugging lunch:

1 year on...

I really don't know what to say. Having a rainbow baby doesn't take away the pain of having lost Isla. This little one, yet to be born, will not replace her. It feels strange to be a year on and in the very week that last year began the worst time of my life, yet looking forward to such a happy time. Ugh, such a muddle of emotion.

Today is the Friday I was in labour, tomorrow is the 13th, so the actual anniversary of Isla's arrival into our lives - her birthday really. She was born. She may not have breathed a breath, but she was born.

We are going up to her woodland burial site tomorrow. I will just lay some flowers and maybe leave a little poem for her. I want to take her memory box up. Family are coming and we will have lunch at our favourite pub, where we also went after her funeral.

I'd like, in the future, to have some sort of tradition that we do. On her due date late year, Dan and I climbed a mountain, Pen-y-Fan in Wales, and laid a stone for her. If I wasn't pregnant this year, I'd have loved us to go up there again. So maybe next year, on her birthday we could do that, with our rainbow in tow too!

I just feel strange. Grieving Isla makes me grieve Dad and the sadness feels so raw. But it is a different sadness. I don't let it consume me. I have a beautiful new life booting me from the inside and I am so happy to be preparing for her imminent arrival! I don't put too much into dates, but I am actually really pleased that this time of year won't forever only be about sadness. We have allowed happiness back into our lives and that is just so precious now.

I feel like I'm rambling, like this is just random wittering. Oh well. Are there ever really the right words?

They say there is a reason,
They say that time will heal,
But neither time nor reason,
Will change the way I feel.

 

For no-one knows the heartache,
That lies behind our smiles,
No-one knows how many times,
We have broken down and cried.

 

We want to tell you something,
So there won’t be any doubt,
You’re so wonderful to think of,
But so hard to be without.

Finding the smallest of miracles

I wanted to write something today because, well..... because I haven't in so long. Not writing is not the same as not thinking about everything though. I think about Isla every moment of every day still but I think about her in different ways.

~ Sometimes it's pure grief. Tears build up in my eyes as I think about her beautiful little face and how tiny she was. So perfect, yet gone. I miss her so much and am distraught that I don't get to see her grow up and become an amazing woman.

~ Sometimes it's happiness... that I got pregnant with Isla in the first place and that I got to see her and hold her. I feel such happiness still when I get to talk about her in any way with anyone, in exactly the same way a 'normal' mum would feel joy talking about her child.

~ Sometimes it's reminiscing - whether it's reminiscing about parts of the pregnancy, before I was a changed woman, or reminiscing about parts of the days and moments from when we found out we'd lost her, from the moment the consultant reached for my hand and said 'Im so sorry' to the incredibly traumatic labour, funeral and my time of grieving.

On this note, I've been going to ante-natal classes and it's all first time mums there. When asked if I'm a first time mum in such places, I say something along the lines of 'Kind of' and let them make their own mind up - will they leave it at that or ask more? At 31 weeks pregnant, all kinds of people, mostly strangers, ask me if it's my first and I vary between saying 'Kind of' to saying quite blatantly 'Hmm, no, I had a daughter last year who was stillborn' to giving a long pause before saying 'Yes'. In such circumstances that pause allows me a second to think of Isla and mentally apologise to her for dismissing her as my true first.

People have started talking to me about their labour stories and I think even people that know about Isla, forget that I've done it. Yes, she was tiny, but the labour was horrific enough to know what I'm going to be going through, although hopefully this time it was go a lot more smoothly.

~ Finally, sometimes it's fear. Fear that the same thing is going to happen to this little miracle I have inside me now. Surely God would not take my precious child from me twice? At over 31 weeks, according to most people I know, I'm in the 'safe zone' - I no longer believe in 'safe zones'. I have been deeply immersed in the world of baby loss and although this baby is our 'rainbow miracle', she may well still leave us. I try so hard to be positive and I do believe the positive thoughts now slightly outweigh the negative ones, but it's such a scary road.

 As part of that positivity, I am going to Mothercare tomorrow and buying everything I need! Car seat is my main priority but according to my 'list' I've got about £600 to spend on stocking up for a newborn! Oh dear, don't tell Dan!

And I also had to get rid of the beautiful Fiat 500 - we could only afford to trade it in for a Panda, but it's got 5 doors, fits the pram in the boot and is a nice colour!

Read on, if you dare!

So today is 9 months since our beautiful Isla was born sleeping. 9 months. The gestation of a full-term baby. And here we are 9 months later and pregnant with our little rainbow. 24 weeks and 6 days today. What follows now is a detailed account of my, shall we say, turbulent week!?

We're in Fuerteventura on holiday this week. We got here a week ago. Day 1 and I was poorly with diarrhea and sick in bed all day. Day 2 I managed to get out a bit more but no appetite at all. In fact, my stomach would turn completely when I looked at food. Day 3 much the same but a little brighter and the same on day 4, until the evening and I just felt so sick and lethargic. Also I had started getting acid reflux so bad I was having to vomit repeatedly. So we went to the doctor in town. She diagnosed an acute uti as well as borderline dehydration needing a drip. Very thankful not to need intravenus fluids but not too happy about requiring antibiotics for the uti or strong antacids for the reflux. But apparently all safe for baby.

We managed to get out for dinner while we were in town which was lovely. I managed to eat a bit more too! Baby has been very active most days which keeps me reassured that me being ill isn't harming her. I'm obsessed with her movements though and hate it when she's quiet for too long.

So day 5 was a fair bit better health-wise and started feeling stronger and eating better. Day 6, the Friday, I seemed almost full-strength. We went out to the old town that night and enjoyed a beautiful 3 course meal at a lovely little place. Came home feeling very, very full but happy. Then my old friend diarrhea hit again. Joy oh joy. Went to sleep hoping it was just a big dinner that had done it. Woke to a trapped nerve in my shoulder and, quite literally, explosive diarrhea. Seriously, just put me down now! This is day 7, the day we go home so the timing is not great. Breakfast was followed by more of the same. But now we've checked out of the room so are laid by the pool. I'm just hoping I don't need to frequent the public loos too much today!

So, that's my update. More bowel-related than baby loss but I'll tell you something... being ill with something that could cause complications is petrifying. A virus in me has killed one of my children and I am not going to be responsible for another baby dying. I'm focusing on getting lots of fluids in and checking for strong, regular movements. I'll see the doctor when I get back but until then, I'll just keep clenching and praying!

Still here... and reminiscing...

So on Mother's Day, last Sunday, I reached 20 weeks pregnant exactly. What a day! Remembering Isla and missing her so much on what should have been our first Mother's Day together but feeling such a strong bond with my ever-growing bump.

 

 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 We know our precious bundle is a little girl now, which is lovely. Hasn't even crossed my mind that she's a replacement for Isla, though I know some women feel that pressure.

 
This pregnancy has not been easy at all. I've had lots of trips to the hospital but seem to be getting looked after pretty well. I managed to fall over the other night which scared me a bit, but again, she seems fine!

 
Today I've been reminiscing. On my July birth board, a forum for others due in July, they have been sharing pictures of their previous bumps. I'm not really prepared to do that, but it's interesting to see. I can only find a couple which I thought I'd share here instead.
 
This is my Isla bump at 18+5

Compared to Rainbow bump at 18 weeks

 

And this is Isla bump at 20+4

Compared to Rainbow bump at 20 weeks

 

 

 

More interesting is, when I looked through the birth group I was in with Isla, I found a post I wrote the day before we found out Isla had died. So telling of what was going wrong but it makes me so sad to see the title I gave the post... You'll have to click on it to read it properly...

 

Later that day, after my appointment, I wrote the following:

I find it so sad to read those posts, just the day before we found out we'd lost our darling girl. Scary too, that I am only 6 weeks away from that exact time.

Miracle rainbow...

Due 28th July, our amazing little miracle rainbow.

A complete surprise so soon after our beautiful Isla and a very nervous journey so far. But we are of course excited. Every day that passes and I still hear the wonderful sound of that little heartbeat (I have a home doppler to keep me sane!), I get more and more excited about this blessing.

We're not actually being monitored more closely really as they consider me low risk. However, I have my own midwife who will see me right through to the birth and also a consultant on the end of the phone who I've met twice so far and the next time will be at 19 weeks. He basically said that he doesn't believe I got pre-eclampsia at 26 weeks for pre-eclampsia's sake. As I suspected, he said it was Maternal Mirror Syndrome, meaning I was mirroring what was wrong with Isla - the bloating basically - which, in me, manifested as pre-eclampsia. I was very poorly and could have died just like she did. Scary but means I'm not actually 'high-risk' this time. Obviously I can't catch parvovirus b19 again (slapped cheek) but there's still an epidemic of it going on, so I've had my bloods checked again to ensure I was really immune. My midwife is part of a team called the Jubilee Team. I refused to go back to the same children's centre as before, where those 2 midwifes are who I hold responsible for Isla's death are, so get to choose a different centre for my antenatal classes etc. She's always on the end of the phone for a call or text.

I had lots of bleeding in early pregnancy and therefore lots of scans, but everything has settled. After the picture above was taken at 13 weeks, I now have to wait until 4th March for my 19 week scan, when I will also meet with the consultant again. He advised me to use the doppler to check on the heartbeat when I felt worried. I do it every couple of days and it's such a wonderful sound! Currently beating at about 160bpm so, according to the old wive's tale, still in girl territory! I can't wait to find out for sure!

Tomorrow I am 15 weeks pregnant. At Christmas, Dan and I were given the original canvas of the Mewstone Rainbow painting by my friend Toby Ray. I mentioned it during my October project and again since I think. And my mum and step-dad got us an original one made up! It's not hanging on our wall yet as we're trying to move house still, but it will certainly have pride of place when we do! So lovely to have a representation of both Dad and Isla in a very special piece of art.

It's been so long...

I'm not over all this, if that's what you're wondering. Is that even possible?! To be over the death of your child? I don't believe I'll ever be 'over it'.

My mum said it a certain way the other day... Saying you're over something isn't recognising it enough. 'Getting beyond' something implies manouvering around it, rather than it not being there at all; getting beyond it but knowing it's still there and will never go away!  But still putting distance between it and you.

Mum was referring to this poem:

Starlings In Winter

“Chunky and noisy,
but with stars in their black feathers,
they spring from the telephone wire
and instantly

they are acrobats
in the freezing wind.
And now, in the theater of air,
they swing over buildings,

dipping and rising;
they float like one stippled star
that opens,
becomes for a moment fragmented,

then closes again;
and you watch
and you try
but you simply can’t imagine

how they do it
with no articulated instruction, no pause,
only the silent confirmation
that they are this notable thing,

this wheel of many parts, that can rise and spin
over and over again,
full of gorgeous life.
Ah, world, what lessons you prepare for us,

even in the leafless winter,
even in the ashy city.
I am thinking now
of grief, and of getting past it;

I feel my boots
trying to leave the ground,
I feel my heart
pumping hard, I want

to think again of dangerous and noble things.
I want to be light and frolicsome.
I want to be improbable beautiful and afraid of nothing,
as though I had wings.”

- Mary Oliver

I like that idea of getting past something that I am still very much aware of. It's still there and always will be. I'm not 'over it' in the traditional sense but still...

I don't think I'm explaining myself very well.

I miss my amazingly beautiful daughter. I always will. But I can find happiness in my days now. I explain to people I no longer have bad days. Just sad moments in otherwise happy / normal / busy days. And those moments sometimes hit me like a sledgehammer. But I can cope with them now.

I will never be so far from this that I can no longer turn and still see it. I walk past it, tripping and stumbling as I go and it's always there. But I have to be able to carry on.