A labour of love

Preparing yourself for one of the biggest moments in your life is daunting and exciting and filled with many mixed emotions...... and so many hormonal changes!  It's a scary ride for every expecting mum.

My pregnancy journey started in April 2016. Mark and I had just got back together after one and half years hiatus and after only a very short time being back together, we fell pregnant!  Initially we were in complete shock and extremely scared, but also equally excited. Even though the timing wasn't ideal, this was something we had both wanted..... eventually.

It had only been a few months earlier that I visited a gynaecologist to discuss some polyps they had found on my ovaries. During this visit the doctor brought up my age (37 at the time) and the fertility statistics for my senior status.  The Doctor put the fear of God in me when he talked about the stats for women my age and so I decided to have my egg count tested. The day I received these results I rang my Mum as soon as I left the Doctors room and was in tears.  He had told me that my egg count was below average (even lower than what it should be for my age).  He said that I would need to consider options for freezing my eggs very soon if I wanted to have children in the future.  He mentioned that at my age the eggs will continue to reduce, and leaving it for even another 6 months wouldn't be ideal.  I couldn't really digest the information at the time.  I felt as though the likelihood of me ever having children was very slim and I was devastated.  I didn't want to think about the process or cost for freezing eggs so I tried to put it out of my mind for a little while and just sat with the information........ what I didn't know at the time is that in a matter of months I would be back with my ex-boyfriend and we would be pregnant.

The pregnancy


At the time of falling pregnant I was probably the healthiest, and happiest I'd been in a long time.  I had spent the previous year and a half focussing on myself and doing a lot of soul searching.  I had lost 15 kilos, I was exercising regularly (I had even completed a half marathon), I had become 90% vegan (a joke between my friends because I would eat chicken burgers in the early hours of the morning after a night out), I had a great job and an active social life.   I look back now and attribute my state of mind and health to why I fell pregnant (and Mark will also claim that nobody took into account his supersonic swimmers when they were handing down the fertility stats).

The pregnancy started out uneventful, I didn't have any morning sickness, I was maintaining my existing exercise regime and I didn't really have any cravings (except for anything potato, but my love for chips extended well before, and will go far beyond this pregnancy).

On the 3rd of May we had our first scan, it was an optional 7 week scan at QScan and we saw the first pictures of our little bambino. Everything was perfect!  We were starting to feel really happy and excited about this unexpected news.

The next scan was with my obstetrician on 27th May, this was our first appointment to discuss the pregnancy and go through the birth plan and our first official scan at 10 weeks gestation. Following this I was sent for blood tests that revealed I had low Papp-a which meant the baby's growth would need to be monitored very closely throughout my pregnancy and the likelihood of an early pregnancy was high.

At 11 weeks into my pregnancy (early June 2016) I experienced my first episode of bleeding. Mark and I were at a birthday dinner for his best friend, I went to the bathroom and noticed bright red blood all over the toilet paper, we sat down to eat thinking it was normal for something like this to happen and lots of people experience a little bleeding in early pregnancy.  However after dinner I went back to the bathroom and it was a little heavier, we left straight away and went to the Mater Emergency Department. Our experience wasn't great in the ED - apparently they didn't have the equipment to do an ultrasound so they just took my HCG levels which indicated I was still pregnant and they told me this can happen to a lot of women, they couldn't really tell me any more and didn't seem overly concerned either. I was obviously very worried but I did also consider that maybe I was going through the same experience my Mum had with me - she had bleeding throughout her pregnancy and was on bed rest for some of it.

On the 14th of June we had a test to ascertain the likelihood of the baby having down syndrome which revealed a 1 in 8 chance (I believe at my age the odds start at 1 in 100's) but this test showed that we had a 1 in 8 chance, so I opted to have a CVS (a large needle into my belly where they withdrew amniotic fluid for testing).  There were risks with this procedure and due to the complications I was already having it was a difficult decision, but knowing how high our stats were, it is something that we wanted to have. We received the short term results within a few days and were told that it was negative for down syndrome, however we needed to wait for the long term results because they had to culture the sample.  The day I received the call from the nurse at the Mater, I was at work and I honestly thought everything was going to be fine.  We had already dealt with the scare of the haemorrhaging, the fact that the baby's growth could be a problem and now we were given the news that the baby had a chromosomal abnormality - a small duplication in the long arm (q) of the 8th chromosome. We sat in a little room at the Mater and were given the sequence of the abnormality, we were told that they hadn't seen this sequence before and therefore couldn't link it to a syndrome, but because this is a new testing mechanism it could also mean that many people have these duplications without even knowing it. The doctors at the Mater and our Obstetrician couldn't really tell us any more than that, so it was suggested that we see a Geneticist at the Royal Brisbane Hospital.  In the meantime, Mark and I had blood tests to see if either of us had the same duplication.  When we met with the Geneticist we were left feeling uncertain once again.  There wasn't much more he could tell us either because this wasn't something they had seen before.  He did however explain that if either one of us had the same sequence/duplication that it would be a more positive outlook, that it was a very small segment of the long arm that was duplicated, therefore the impact (if any) is likely to be subtle and related to learning difficulties or mild autism.  They advised that it was unlikely to be physical abnormalities and that the outcomes for girls were more positive.

The gender was something we hadn't planned on finding out but the day we received this news we were handed a report to discuss the chromosome abnormality and on this report stated the sex of the baby.  I didn't even notice it, but 'eagle eyes' Mark was all over it and all I heard him say was "Is this the gender of the baby", pointing to the report, and the Doctor said "Yes, sorry were you not wanting to find out?", followed by the Doctor stating "Don't get too excited just yet, you have a lot to overcome first".  Which put such a dampener on what was a little piece of excitement amongst so much stress and uncertainty.  We were both hoping to have a little girl.

On the 16th of June I wound up at the Royal Brisbane Hospital Emergency Department with an even heavier bleed and was admitted overnight for observation. The doctors were great, they talked me through the fact that it's very common to lose a baby around this time and the fact that I'm 38 was also working against me for these statistics, but even though I was scared I never truly felt that I was going to lose her. I was released the following day and told to take it easy.

A week later I received another phone call at work that the blood tests revealed the chromosome abnormality was paternal and most likely to represent a benign familial variant.  In other words, it had been passed down from her Dad (who also carried the exact same duplication) and because he was "normal" it was more likely that she wouldn't be affected by it (they prefaced this by saying that it could present differently in our baby so they couldn't rule out that she wouldn't be impacted).  We were a bit bewildered.  The bleeding, the indication that her growth might be challenged, the possibility of an early pregnancy and now this uncertainty - the odds seemed to be stacking up against us.  There were many deep discussions about what we should do, what if our child had physical or mental abnormalities - could we cope? But we trusted the experts and focussed on the fact that Mark also had the duplication which was a positive sign and joked that this meant she was actually going to be 'super human'.

We continued through the rest of the pregnancy trying to feel more at ease.  Up until this point we'd had so much uncertainty that I hadn't really felt like I was pregnant.  It was all so clinical.  I hadn't felt like we could announce the pregnancy broadly or that I could even enjoy the process.  So, at about 18 weeks gestation we decided to officially announce on social media and for the following 5 weeks I felt more and more connected to the baby and started feeling excited.  I relaxed into the pregnancy a little more.

Mark and I had a long weekend in Stradbroke Island (which would end up being the only 'baby moon' we would get).  We were hoping to go via plane somewhere but my Obstetrician had warned against traveling anywhere overseas or too far from home due to the fact that the likelihood of me delivering early was very high.  I'm not sure I actually took all of this in at the time because I honestly still believed that I would go full term and thought that they were just saying this as a possibility.

Then, on Friday 26th of August at 23 weeks and 2 days gestation I woke up at 4.45am with wet underwear and when I got up out of bed a little burst of fluid leaked down my leg.  At first, Mark and I started googling what it could be and read that this can happen to pregnant women from time to time and I shouldn't worry. I didn't have any pain associated with it and Mark told me to try relax, he went to work and I had a shower, but something didn't feel right.  I trusted my instincts, even though I was worried about over-reacting and rang the Mater Mothers Pregnancy Assessment Unit to explain what had happened.  The nurse on the phone suggested that I come straight up to PAU and have it checked out.  I drove myself up to the hospital a little scared and uncertain.  I was seen immediately by my Obstetricians colleague who was on duty that day, by this stage my body had started to go into a bit of shock, it's no secret that I suffer from anxiety and when I'm confronted with incredibly stressful situations my body shakes, I call them "mini convulsions'.  This was happening the whole time they were trying to examine me.  After they had done their observations, it was confirmed that my waters had broken. I was completely in shock and utterly scared.  I rang Mark to deliver the news and I rang my Mum who immediately left the coast to come be with me.  After further assessments I was admitted to the level 9 Antenatal Ward at the Mater Mothers at around 2pm.  What I didn't know at the time is that Bed 906 would be my home for the next 10 weeks.

And so the journey began of my time between 'those 4 walls'.  The first few days I had no idea what was going to happen, I was in full survival mode (looking back now, 16 months after Maddie was born I think I have actually spent most of this time in fight-or-flight mode).  

In hospital, I got myself into a strict routine, I knew what times food services would be delivered - breakfast between 7 and 8am, morning tea at 10am, lunch around 12, afternoon tea at 3pm, dinner at 5 and supper at 7pm.  It would really throw my day out if anyone was late (ha!)  - such is the insanity of being institutionalised.  The menu was a self selection, so you rang and ordered your meals each night for the following day - almost like room service (this was quite a novelty).  

I would wake around 6am, breakfast would come at 7am, I would shower after that and take my daily walk up the hall to the parents lounge for boiling water and have my Mama Body Soothing tea, I would put my oil diffuser on in my room, my Obstetrician would come each day around 8am, followed by observations from the nurses, then morning tea at 10am, I'd watch some TV or I'd have Occupational therapists, Physios, Ward Stewards, Social Workers, Cleaners and always my regular 4 hourly obs with the nurses.  All of these people became friends and knew me on a first name basis, especially the Ward Steward who would sit on my bed and talk to me each day.  During the week when everyone was at work and I didn't have as many visitors I'd do mindfulness colouring-in books, writing, attempt to read, watch television and ATE.  It's funny how I managed to fill each day.  Being institutionalised can send you a bit batty so it became all about the little things and creating a routine was important.

As my time in hospital went by I started to have trouble breathing, I was worried about every little movement, pain and change.... it was hard to stay relaxed. I was doing everything I had been taught - sleep meditations at night, guided pregnancy meditations during the day, diffusing oils in my room, trying to stay occupied with magazines/tv/guests, but I'm an anxious person and sometimes it's difficult to switch off the thoughts, even if you know deep down that it's only anxiety.

The Mater sent a Social Worker to talk to me, a Physio to help with movement while on bed rest and an Occupational Therapist to assist with the sudden life change. I was being supported in every way possible.  I honestly can't praise the team at the Mater enough and my Obstetrician who even cooked me brownies while I was in hospital!

After about 7 nights in hospital the novelty of ordering my meals every day slowly faded and I began to crave the outside world. Especially on Father's Day when all my family watched my nephews footy grand final followed by a BBQ. I saw people posting pictures at the beach as the weather started to warm and I felt sad about what I was missing out on. It's not to say I had a shortage of visitors, the support and care was overwhelming but I missed normal things like getting in a car and driving somewhere, cooking my own meals, going to work, going out to dinner. But I was always reminded by someone that this is a short time in my life and the end result would all be worth it so just take it day by day.

A lot of the time I would feel positive about the outcome, I felt the combined energy of everyone around me and my own intuition that was telling me she was meant to come into this world. But I would naturally have doubts because it wasn't a 'normal' pregnancy. A letter that I received while in hospital from my Aunty Sandy explained exactly how I was feeling. "Your little girl has already had an incredible impact on this world as she has united so many people far and wide in prayer, thought and support for your little family.  She is already declaring the most important thing is love.  Though this time is stressful, I pray that you continue to see the silver linings and feast on the peace that God alone can give you.  Be whatever it is you need to bring you and your little one safely home".  

This little girl was here to teach us some serious life lessons and she was being carried by an army of supportive loved ones.

Even though I managed to maintain my sanity during my time in hospital. I cried.  A lot.  Most of the time it was when I was alone in the room, or sometimes on the phone to Mark or Mum or my sister.  Sometimes the tears were because I was so overwhelmed by all the love and support we were receiving. I felt guilty that people were going out of their way to care for us (even people I hadn't spoken to in years), so I'd cry because it made me realise how loved we were.  Other times it was when I thought about the pregnancy that I wasn't going to have - and even though this seemed completely selfish to think about, I was sad about missing out on all the normal things - watching the bump grow with my partner at home, having a baby shower, setting up the baby's room and just enjoying the whole process. But then I thought how none of these things would matter if we were to come out of this with a healthy baby girl.

Quite often I'd cry from pure fear and worry and sometimes just from being lonely. I was scared for my baby's life, how we would cope if we lost her or if she was born with a serious illness.  I was worried about her long term health prospects..... worried about the unknown.  None of it was easy.  It was scary.

There were many good and bad days during my time in hospital, including a number of trips to the birthing suite when our baby's heart rate would decelerate, magnesium infusions, steroids, antibiotics, constant fluid loss and bleeding, lack of sleep, so many scans, blood tests and observations.  Way too many details to cover here.

The day she was born

The day Madeleine was born I had a swab taken to check for infection because I hadn't been feeling well, then a scan at 9.30am. Aunty Sandra, Mum and Dad had come to visit and were with me for the scan which ended up showing that she had stopped growing. We had been told early on that growth was going to be a problem and that had proven to be correct all along because her growth at each scan was always below what it should have been. The pool of amniotic fluid was also down to 1.3cms (she had already survived for 10 weeks in very little fluid). All of her other measurements were tracking below average as well. I knew the minute the sonographer told me her growth had stopped that my Obstetrician would want to deliver that day (there had been a couple of occasions during my time in hospital that she had contemplated delivering and wondered whether holding off had been the right decision) but she had always maintained that while our baby was still growing, the best place for her was inside. Now that her growth had stopped, it was time.

The moment we found out we would have to deliver that day and I went into a state of shock

When I got back to my room the nurses did my daily CTG, took my obs and once my Obstetrician had reviewed the scan results and the CTG she rang and said "I think we need to deliver this baby today. Is 3.30pm ok for you?". I felt jolted. On one hand I was ready to deliver after all this time in hospital and knowing that her living conditions inside were not ideal, and on the other hand I was petrified about having a caesarian and about what condition our little girl would be in (and if she would survive). One of our earliest appointments in hospital we were explained the survival rates and outcomes for preterm babies so I knew the significance of getting to 33 weeks.  But I also knew that some babies are born in very poor condition and defy all odds, other babies are in a relatively good state only to become very sick days or weeks later and pass away.  I was actually told by a nurse from NCCU weeks after Madeleine was born that they were expecting a very different outcome for her, they hadn't expected her to be in a very good condition at all.  Mostly due to the fact that she had been jammed down in my pelvis with very little fluid (they couldn't even get a proper scan of her head each week), my placenta was shot to pieces, her growth was compromised and her lungs would be under-developed due to the lack of fluid.

From the moment I found out I was delivering that day, my body went into a state of shock. I tried to relax but couldn't keep still and was shaking in fear. My Aunty and my parents (plus my sister who had also arrived at the hospital), watched me wait those hours before going into theatre in a complete state of fear.  The anxious convulsions continued as Mark and I got into our theatre gowns in my room. Some of the midwives that had taken care of me came and hugged me and said goodbye. Then I got walked down to theatre where my anxiety hit an all new level. I was shaking uncontrollably on the operating table and the caesarean section experience was one that I could never explain and something I wasn't prepared for. I thought I wouldn't feel anything but it was an uncomfortable sensation to say the least. It was all over quite quickly though and by 4.11pm Madeleine Jane Metassa was born - and very quickly taken away after they briefly showed her to us. I then got sent to recovery and then a couple of hours later we went up to ward 11 bed 05 via the nursery where I got my very first look at my daughter.


She was 39cm long, 1.3kgs in weight, but so incredibly cute even though she looked a little bit like a gecko. She would spend the next 5 and a half weeks in the Neonatal Critical Care Unit.  

I stayed in hospital 5 days after my caesarean so I was able to go down and see Madeleine any time of the day or night, which gave me some comfort knowing she wasn't far away.  But it was still difficult.  You have an idea that when you deliver your baby that you will have her in your room with you and leave the hospital as a family to continue the parenthood journey at home... but that wasn't going to be the case for us.  We had been prepared for what to expect and how we might feel having a premmie baby in NCCU - Mark and I were given a tour of the facility while I was on bed rest and we talked at length to a nurse about how we might feel and the struggles we may encounter.  They had told me that the day I leave hospital and go home would probably be one of the hardest days because I would be leaving Madeleine at the hospital and wouldn't be walking out with my baby.  They were right!  It was a very difficult day and I cried in the NCCU corridor.

Madeleine was a superstar in NCCU, she quickly went from being on CPAP to low flow oxygen, moved from the critical care unit to special care and eventually in an open crib.  We were told that she had a small heart murmur (we would have to get that continually checked with a heart specialist), that she would need to go home on oxygen (this would be managed by a lung specialist) and I would do monthly overnight sleep studies in hospital to monitor her lung development.  In the last couple of weeks of her stay in special care with the help of lactation consultants we tried to get her to breast feed but that proved very difficult because of how tiny she was and her inability to suck properly (even with a nipple shield).  I expressed every 2-3 hours the entire time she was in NCCU (either beside her cot or at home) and she was bottle fed expressed breast milk. We took her home on the 11th of December, just in time for Christmas.  She weighed under the standard weight they would normally send babies home at, but because she was otherwise healthy they said she could leave.  Her weight was going to be our biggest challenge because she was low birth weight, even for her premmie age and even now, at 16 months of age she's only 8kgs - but she is the most beautiful, smiley girl you've ever seen!

I had this vision of what my pregnancy would be like. I would maintain my existing exercise regime, I would keep up my healthy eating habits, I would be a glowing pregnant woman and just grow a small basketball out front and keep all of my other dimensions, I would have an amazing pregnancy photo shoot, I had planned my baby shower down to every fine detail, I would look and feel amazing, I would carry to full term and then I would bounce back to my pre-pregnancy body in no time....... Boom...... what grand plans!

It's true what they say about having expectations in life, because nothing ever goes to plan.  That's why resilience and flexibility is so important, a lesson I seem to be continually learning.  I don't know if I could say that I've come through all of this unscathed, because my life has changed so much.  Motherhood is really hard and it's been very up and down.  Especially the first few months at home with Madeleine on oxygen and then becoming a single Mum when she was 8 months old.  It's been a difficult time.  Madeleine still has health challenges because of her lungs and susceptibility to bronchiolitis, we've had a number of hospital stays because of this. But one thing that gets me up each morning (and through the night) and even though I'm tired as f*$k.  I feel such pure and honest love every time I get to look at her, hold her or even think about her.  She is EVERYTHING!  I get so emotional any time I think about my pregnancy, my time in hospital, becoming a Mum, her time in NCCU and the 16 months I've spent with her which have been challenging to say the least, but so beautiful.  It has been a roller coaster, there have been many tears, hospital trips, development clinics, paediatrician appointments, doctors, specialists etc.. but I just love her so much it's ridiculous!

Madeleine - 6 months old

Madeleine - 7 months old

Madeleine 12 months old

Madeleine 15 months old