July 25th, 2019, the day our daughter was born 13 weeks early. For me, looking back on this has and always will be incredibly moving. Although at the time of her birth I would never have believed that. I went into spontaneous labour at 27 + 6 weeks, early hours in the morning. Waking with pains, never did it cross my mind that this was labour. It felt familiar, but for whatever reason I did not connect the two. I was mindful of ringing my midwife, and I told myself I was to ring her at a polite hour. So 7 a.m. hit, and I was on the phone to her. We organised for our 3-year-old son to go to my mother-in-laws, little did I know that I would not see him again for 3 days. I felt a huge sense of guilt that I was unable to see him and explain to him what was going on. My heart ached that our family was not together. When in hospital, specialists could quite clearly see I was in active labour, and through an internal examination could see that I was dilated. I had nifedipine and magnesium sulphate to try and stop the contractions; however, both were unsuccessful. Thankfully, I managed to have one dose of steroids to help Kennedy’s lungs before she was born. For someone who has experienced post-traumatic stress (from a traumatic labour and category 1 emergency caesarean section) and postnatal depression with my first born, I was surprisingly calm. How? I do not know. Our plan of how we were birthing Kennedy looked very different to what was happening currently. I was meant to be having an elective caesarean section. While in labour I asked for a caesarean section, I was scared. I did not want to have a vaginal birth. Unfortunately, I was unable to have a caesarean section, as we needed to keep Kennedy in utero as long as we could. The position of Kennedy meant that I had to have an assisted delivery (lithotomy) as she was posterior, and was also sitting quite high up. I remember the medical team commenting on how calm I was and that it did not marry up to how far along I was in labour. When Kennedy was born (1260 g), I could not and did not want to look at her. I knew as a Mum that this is what you should do, but for me it was too painful. I needed to in that very moment protect myself. I had to. I had to be strong within me, as I knew that from this moment forward our lives were going to be very different. Kennedy was wrapped in plastic and required inflation breaths and oxygen, after 7 min she was intubated and taken round to our Special Care Baby Unit. We were not allowed to go with her, and had to wait until we were told we could. This feeling is one that I still feel as I write this. My heart felt empty, that I was not with my baby. She was without her Mum and Dad, how could we do that to her? We were finally allowed around, after one and a half hours. Seeing Kennedy in the incubator, with wires and monitors attached was hard to process. And to this day, it still pains me. We knew that our SCBU (Special Care Baby Unit) could not take Kennedy and we would need to be flown to Wellington NICU (neonatal intensive care unit). I was unable to fly with Kennedy as I was not 12 h post delivery. So I watched as my husband and daughter were taken away by ambulance staff to be flown to Wellington (320 km away from home). I arrived in Wellington after 15 h of being separated from Sam and Kennedy. I saw Kennedy was stable, and my anxiety settled. After 19 h Kennedy was extubated (CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure)), and stayed on this until she was 32 weeks gestation. I knew Kennedy was a fighter, and was going to make us proud. I remember the moments of being proud. Proud when she got to full feeds and the long line came out, proud when she went from CPAP to high flow, proud when she had her nasogastric tube removed, proud when she was able to come off oxygen at home, and proud of every single thing she achieved. I also remember the moments of being disappointed. Disappointed in Kennedy not tolerating feeds, disappointed that we weren’t ready for a transfer home, disappointed she needed a blood transfusion, disappointed that she had a grade 1 and grade 2 brain bleed, disappointed that she needed further eye checks for retinopathy of prematurity (ROP) disappointed that she had to go back on CPAP after the flight home, disappointed that her oximetry showed she needed to stay on oxygen, and disappointed that I felt disappointed. Breastfeeding was another traumatic experience I had with my first born. We as a family had decided prior to Kennedy being born that she was going to be a formula-fed baby. When she was born 13 weeks early, I knew within my heart that I needed to change my mindset with this. I knew that in order to give her the best chance and start at life, I needed to give her breast milk. I started expressing 1 day post delivery, and this started my 6 months expressing journey. I do wish that there was more information and support given around how to feed your baby. Not just looking at the present moment, but as they become closer to term, and then post NICU or SCBU. Thankfully, I had an amazing Lactation Consultant in NICU; however, I felt I had to really seek to find help and information. I know every feeding journey is different; however, I think more support or information is needed to help inform parents of what feeding your premature baby might look like in certain stages. Kennedy also had human milk fortifier to supplement her feeds.
