Izzy’s story

…we wait

One pregnant woman’s journey through the hardest months of her life and the painful wait for antenatal results 

6 weeks– ‘I can see your baby and I can see your baby’s heartbeat.’ The best words I’ve ever heard in my life. We wait for the excitement to build…

9 weeks- the sickness, the exhaustion; having your husband pick you up from the floor of the bathroom as you have nothing left in you. 4kg’s down. ‘Minor HG says the doc.’

10 weeks– the bleed, the thought that it was over. The guilt that now, a lot further down the line, a part of you wishes it had ended on this day.

12 weeks– a millimetre. The nuchal is too high. Fetal medicine: there’s a risk, more tests. 1 to 2. A ratio that makes you curl up into a ball. ‘It’s very likely’… ‘we would be surprised if’…another private waiting room; cold and quiet except the sounds of our tears…we wait.

13 weeks-NIPT Low risk: ‘no seriously, you sure?’ Yes, but… early anomaly scans. 

18 weeks– all looking normal, no anomalies; breathe (kind of).

20 weeks– still looking okay, scan at 28 weeks just to be safe; breathe (maybe we can).

Two months of quiet. Two months of allowing excitement to drip in. As we race the prams round mamas and papas, I saw our future with our baby boy…

28 weeks– he’s not growing properly; extremely small. Another cold private crying room: monitor, admit, transfer. I stared into my husband’s eyes as the long thin needle went into my stomach; scared beyond measure and clinging for some safety. 1 in 200 chance of going into labour (statistics mean nothing at this point). PCR, Array, Exome*. The language you learn amidst the chaos but that stay etched in your brain. 3-4 days, 10 days to 2 weeks, up to 3 weeks. Time seems to lose all meaning as you wait to hear whether you will be bringing your baby home. Plasters all over my bruised arms from the continuous draw of blood for answers…we wait.

29 weeks– your baby doesn’t have Down’s, Edwards’ or Patau’s, and you haven’t had an infection. Hope? Or more questions than answers and meanwhile, the clock still ticks. The longing for sleepless nights and the pain of childbirth over this…we wait.

30 weeks– array- all clear; he’s grown, a bit. Still no answers, still more cold and empty side rooms, trying to remember to breathe and be brave as the alternative is to just break down. Now talk of c-section, steroids, NICU. This pregnancy is as far from the dream I imagined. He kicks me, and I have a percentage of hope that I might get to meet him, alive and healthy. I’m waiting for that hope to be shattered…

‘How are you feeling?’- drained, exhausted, but for the first time in weeks, I’ve allowed myself to think about bringing our baby boy home. The exome miraculously came back clear. I didn’t think it was possible. Who knows why baby is small? I just need him to keep growing. There’s nothing I can do I’m told, so…we wait some more. 

32 weeks– he’s grown, 2lb 15, not much but tracking…we wait.

34 weeks– still growing, but we will look to get him out at 37 weeks. A plan at least and something to work towards.

Think again…

Reduced movements, I’m not risking it, after everything. 

35+6 weeks-The weirdest waiting of all, my last night with you in my tummy. The last night of your kicks, hiccups and rolling around happening inside me. Though this date has changed and you were born earlier than I wished for, my wishes on many stars throughout this pregnancy has meant that we got you to 36 weeks when one point we didn’t know you’d be here at all. I know I would do anything for you but giving up my mind and body the last 9 months has really shown me that. You are so loved and you don’t even know it yet.

36 weeks– You are here; perfect, tiny- too tiny. 2 weeks in the NICU (more waiting, more tests- a story for another day). 

38 weeks– You defied all the odds. The best Christmas present we could ask for. Still no answers though as we wait for my placenta to be analysed. Maybe we won’t get answers, but we’ve got you; tiny, perfect, you; and I cannot wait to see who you become. 

*PCR,Array,Exome- a series of antenatal diagnostic genetic testing that I had following an amniocentesis; each more detailed than the former.