As I was waiting for husband to come back in after calling and informing both our parents, the midwife who was attending to me said that once the specialists were ready they would wheel me up to see my baby before they take her to the Royal Childrens Hospital in Yorkhill. Because she had to undergo surgery for gastroschisi, she had to be transferred to where all the expertise was. And believe me, it was all in Yorkhill. Yorkhill was were all cases of gastroschisis would be treated; and this was for the whole of Scotland by the way!
Husband came back in after all the phone calls and managed to squeeze in praying solat syukur by my bedside; a little thank you to Allah s.w.t. that everything went well even though it was sudden and pretty much terrifying! It was almost 12.00am and we still hadn't seen our baby yet. Finally the midwife got a call and they said that they were bringing her down to the recovery room. In a bit, we were going to see our little girl and we were beyond excited! Even though we still hadn't thought of a name for her yet and had only decided on the alphabet 'Z'.
In a few minutes the curtains were pulled back and in came a covered incubator with two ladies (who were in charge of moving Z) into our bay. They lifted the covers off the incubator and in there was our little girl, my cuddle-bug.
She was so tiny and she was still covered in fine hairs (lanugo) which was all over her face, arms and back. I was quite honestly taken a back by it. Thankfully they placed her on her side with a flexi pillow, which meant that we couldn't see the intestines. I again asked the ladies if they knew if all the bowels were healthy and even though they didn't know in depth, they did see that it was all pink (which meant it was healthy!). The ladies also told us that she had a strong set of lungs on her and she was very vocal with it! Again, another good news since we were worried about her lungs being matured enough.
She looked so tiny, lying in her incubator that I was afraid to touch her. I actually asked the ladies if I could touch her! She already had a nasogastric tube in (a tube that goes from the nose into the tummy) and a PICC line in her arm. The realisation of this made me cry and as they wheeled her out to be transferred to Yorkhill, another patient was wheeled into the bay facing me with her baby and I cried some more. I really couldn't stop it.
Initially if all had gone according to plan, I was supposed to undergo an induction at 37 weeks to go through the birthing process naturally. At that time I would be booked into a single room where after Z was transferred I wouldn't be surrounded by moms and their babies. But because I had a C-Section, that wasn't an option as they had to monitor my progress. All my vitals were checked almost hourly including the pee bag that was inserted during surgery.
By the time I had to go up into the ward, it was time for husband to go home. Even though I was pretty much drugged up to my eyeballs, I couldn't sleep. It was at that time that I managed to update my close friends and family about what had happened. Some of them new about Z's condition and some didn't. I took the time to explain it all to them, well at least until my battery ran out. I couldn't help but think that I reached the hospital at 7-ish pm and at 8.26pm, Z had already greeted the world with her high pitched cries! I desperately wished that husband was with me but unfortunately he wasn't allowed. :(
Saying that this whole journey was emotional is basically an understatement, I have to say. No words can actually describe how hard it was to be away from my baby at that point. At the end I managed to fall asleep in the ward and woke up the next morning still drugged up with my midwife, Hazel, moving me into a double room where for the time being I would be alone. And they would try to put in another Mom whose baby was not with her to share with me. I now it sounds mean but I requested that it be that way. I just couldn't take being reminded with every sound, cry and baby talk that my little one wasn't with me.
I know I sound like a real weakling, but quite honestly; I am. A lot of friends and family have said that we're strong to have gone through this, but I really am not. Most of the times I was overwhelmed and highly emotional. And yes, I would cry like a freaking baby (erm…even now actually).
I swear, post-pregnancy hormones are so shitty!