I finally got to meet her

Seeing my daughter for the first time by photo was amazing, the fact the hospital does that is brilliant and not something I was expecting.

At the same time though I was desperate to see her in person, but she was in special care and I was in recovery so it was physically impossible.

I’ve no concept of the time this was all going on. She was born at 10.12pm but I’m unsure as to how long I was in theatre after that, or what time I woke up.

It was late and I really wasn’t with it but I remember during the night my boyfriend sleeping on the chair in my room, then waking up and going to see her in SCBU then coming back. 

That was torture, I wanted to go. I wanted to see her. 

I can’t even imagine what that night was like for my boyfriend. 

I slept on and off and then in the morning was given a bed bath (they’re a hoot aren’t they) and then I could go see her.

I was put in a wheelchair with my creased, oversized Primark checked shirt on, my hair scraped back, my head, feet, well my whole body still massive, with a green hospital blanket covering the bag from my catheter as I was pushed in to SCBU.

There were four cots in her ward, and with the cots came parents so there was no privacy, and I remember going in to the ward and feeling like all eyes were on me. 

It lasted a second before I clapped eyes on her and she was handed to me. She was tiny, had the smallest little hat on and a little tube coming out of her nose. 

I cried! 

It’s definitely not how I imagined it. Seeing my daughter for the first time the day after she was born and unable to pick her up myself was not in any kind of birth plan, but it was lovely just to finally have her in my arms. 

I didn’t want to put her down, we both just wanted to cuddle her, but like me absolute rest was what she needed most and it was best for her to be in the cot. 

And so started a routine of just sitting and staring, all day every day.

You might be wondering why I’m still writing about this? The blog is to raise awareness about preeclampsia and the cure to that is getting the baby out? So am I not fine? I can stop now.

That’s right, and I am fine, and I could stop.

But I learned more this week in a birth reflections session at the RVI about how pre-eclampsia impacted on my physical recovery after childbirth, and was the reason why we had to go down a certain route. I hadn't realised, despite being cured of it, it still had consequences as a Mam, which I hadn’t been aware of, and so for now will continue to tell my story.