tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-25820671957380443742024-03-05T01:12:47.862-08:00Accreta Hope Australia and New ZealandAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.comBlogger17125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-74919028903574173742014-08-20T03:14:00.002-07:002014-08-20T03:14:54.456-07:00Lucky to be Alive, Melinda Catalano - Sunrise<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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National Blood Donor Week - Australia</h2>
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-46946035378477974492014-07-02T19:17:00.001-07:002014-07-03T02:13:25.379-07:00"Miracle Mom," Gina Walker on Today Show<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="344" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/79ppbMnUDhk" width="459"></iframe><br />
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Gina Walker - CEO & Founder of the <a href="http://www.hopeforaccreta.org/">Hope for Accreta Foundation</a>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-8997863687509633802014-07-02T15:36:00.001-07:002014-07-02T16:07:31.274-07:00Placenta Accreta | 9 News Adelaide<iframe allowfullscreen="" frameborder="0" height="270" src="//www.youtube.com/embed/SFSHrVwnz9c" width="480"></iframe><br />
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Simone Pavils - on Adelaide 9 News</h2>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-41130823643227513872014-06-29T16:00:00.000-07:002014-06-29T16:00:07.935-07:00Stephanie's Story - Placenta Previa and Percreta<div style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Sienna</td></tr>
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I fell pregnant with my second child
when my son was about 7 months old, I had a c-section when he was
born. The second pregnancy wasn't planned but naturally we were very
happy. At 25 weeks pregnant I began bleeding I didn't really panic
because I bled a little in my first pregnancy. So I rang the hospital
and they told me to go in. They decided to keep me in over night
because the blood was not stopping it was much like a period. I was
scared but once again didn't think a lot of it and was pretty much
thinking everything is going to be ok. The bleeding increased in
amount over night, and the next morning my OB breaks the news to me
that she was moving me to a high risk OB and will be transferred to
King Edward Hospital as we may need to be prepared for our baby to
come out now. I was in disbelief and I can't tell you how hard my
husband and I cried. So off I went to KEMH, bleeding continued and I
started passing clots of blood at the end of every bleed cycle. My
new OB Craig Pennell (absolute star) broke the news to me that I
would need to stay in hospital for the remainder of my pregnancy,
this was a shock how could I leave my just turned one year old
behind, it was by far the most painful experience of my life being
away from him and my husband. Through tests it was then confirmed I
had Major Placenta Previa and Placenta Percreta - the worst my OB has
ever seen and he deals with this stuff all the time. Oh and I also
had a blood disorder ITP my blood was not clotting properly.<br />
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Days just turned into nights, I did
everything I mentally could to survive my time in hospital. I saw a
psychologist, I listened to relaxation music, I journal wrote all my
fears. I knew if I was going to survive this that I would come out of
it without depression this was my goal! So I was 32 + 6 weeks woke up
in the night to go to the toilet and a rush of blood came out, all my
worst fears in that moment became a reality and I had to push that
emergency button. Not having control of your own body has got to be
the most scariest thing in the world I was a ticking time bomb and I
just went off! The bleeding ended up stopping but they needed to
deliver our girl that day. I had a double epidural in which I had to
do with no support only the doctors hands to hold because of
contamination reasons, my husband then came into theatre with me. It
was like a movie scene doctors EVERYWHERE and machinery everywhere by
that point I was screaming in my head I can't do this I don't want
this make it stop! But of course it couldn't they had to deliver
Sienna straight away because as soon as they cut me I lost 2 litres
of blood while awake my poor husband was watching, she came out
perfectly beautiful. I had no idea of anything but I started feeling
very sick and I remember telling them to put me asleep. My poor
husband in a distraught state was taken out with Sienna and told I
wasn't going to survive he then had to tell my anxiously waiting
family that their daughter/sister had a baby girl but was not going
to survive... </div>
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I was in surgery for around 4-5 hrs and lost around 7-8
litres of blood, anything that could go wrong did. They had to pump
my main artery to keep the blood flowing to my brain, I had a
hysterectomy which I was aware that was more then likely going to
happen. My lifeless body was put into ICU and I was under close watch
for the next 48 hours as I was at a high risk of having a massive
bleed again. Recovery was a struggle I couldn't walk or sit up or
stand because I didn't have enough oxygen in my blood so it felt like
my body weighed a ton, trying to talk while standing was virtually
impossible for me, I just couldn't carry myself after surgery. </div>
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Meeting Sienna properly for the first time was a beautiful moment
however I felt so very hopeless I </div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our first meeting</td></tr>
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didn't feel like a happy mum that
just had a baby, I felt like I just had this major surgery but didn't
have a baby. I would struggle to get down to the neonatal unit to see
her, I was so exhausted I had to prepare myself each time I went down
to spend time with her. I had to have a sleep, take pain killers then
30 min later I could see her. But then I couldn't stay with her for
too long because I got so tired and weak very quickly. I was released
from hospital after 9 days amazingly, Sienna had to stay in hospital
for a further 3 weeks so she could learn to feed from a bottle. Going
home was very surreal, I laid on my bed that I had missed so much but
my mind couldn't work out if I was living reality or if I was really
dead, it was very confusing and upsetting.<br />
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Even though this experience has been by
far the worst emotional and physical pain I have ever endured, it has
opened my life up to new possibilities and because of it I found
myself and I continue to live a happy life because I was shown just
how quickly it could of been over. I use to sit in my pain everyday
of the what if's and replay everything, grief was the most important
part of my process of healing. Crying like I had never cried before
,thinking about it constantly was so important as it helped me to
decide when it was time for me to heal. The decision came on my
daughters first birthday. I decided that I could no longer do this to
myself anymore, that I wanted to be happy and free in my mind so I
made a decision to stop wondering about the what if's, because it
almost happened but it didn't I'am here. I have my beautiful family
and I have learnt so many valuable lessons that could of taken me a
life time to learn.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-4132880642891074792014-06-14T23:57:00.001-07:002014-06-14T23:57:25.764-07:00Sandra's Story - Surviving undiagnosed Accreta<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZAl0AOrn11kW6UlhBIJ9sl9thtvTAH5gYpD_iIPaRcBACBZ4pK1rIRdRkFd5fT286TmJJYIdpvc0LRErOEAx51NRp6WoUUfsVroDgJL9FZGieefmEZgqsdsIxGFfWv3uONHbE6i_hcI/s1600/images.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhNZAl0AOrn11kW6UlhBIJ9sl9thtvTAH5gYpD_iIPaRcBACBZ4pK1rIRdRkFd5fT286TmJJYIdpvc0LRErOEAx51NRp6WoUUfsVroDgJL9FZGieefmEZgqsdsIxGFfWv3uONHbE6i_hcI/s1600/images.jpg" height="247" width="320" /></a></div>
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I had a great pregnancy. At approximately 6.30am on the 23<span class="s1"><sup>rd</sup></span> of October 1992 my water was leaking it didn’t break. I was over due on my birth they believed as the dates kept changing. We rang the hospital and they said come in as I had Step B. I had no contractions. They induced me at the hospital at around 7.30am the process of contractions took a while and they put a heart monitor on my baby’s head. After a few hours they gave me pethidine as the gas made me sick. When it came to pushing it didn’t go well the pethidine had run out and they couldn’t give me any more as it was time to push. I pushed for 2 hours and 52 minutes (I read the report) my baby was face up and not moving through the birth canal and his heart rate became a concern. The doctor said I needed forceps and they had to give me a cut to give my baby more room. They got me all ready and I remember the force was so strong when they were pulling that the bed moved away from the wall. Out came my baby facing me he was a chubby one with heaps of hair, Beautiful. He was just over 9 pounds and 52 cm long. He was born at 10.52pm. Then that’s when it went downhill. I remember them pulling on the placenta when all of a sudden I had the worse pain, I remember pleading with them to stop (I didn’t know at the time but my uterus had inverted and they were pushing it back in and it kept coming out with the placenta still attached) at this stage I became very restful, no pain and at peace. There was a lot of movement in the room and then I remember the lights on the ceiling going fast as I pasted them on the bed. I had surgery where they said I required 6 pints of blood. They took my uterus and stabilized me. The surgery took all night and into the morning. The hospital didn’t have an ICU unit so they set me up in a birthing room with a one on one nurse and machines and tubes everywhere. This was all because of placenta accreta. Which was not known until I gave birth. My cut was from my bellybutton to my pubic bone. My son was taken to a children’s hospital for surgery as he had a small problem too. He was there for a couple of days. I was in hospital for 2 weeks other complications were surgical infection, Bowel and bladder in shock and not working. They had to remove some stitches so the infection could weep and intravenous antibiotics. I was still on iron tables when I went home.</div>
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Over the next 5 years I still had some problems because of the damage to my tummy. I had incisional hernia twice which required major repair. So twice for periods of months I was unable to hold my boy and on the last surgery I slept in an arm chair for 7 weeks. My son had some minor medical problems which required doctor visits and treatment.</div>
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When my son was 8 I returned to school and worked hard and found a new career in working with children with special needs. My son and I have been through a lot. I am so proud of the young man that he is. I now have 3 other boys in my life who also mean the world to me as does my son. I also have a very supportive partner.</div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-70040487507578021112014-06-04T04:14:00.002-07:002014-06-04T04:14:54.835-07:00Overcomers of Placenta Accreta<h3 style="background-color: #f1ffe4; color: #323232; font-family: Georgia, Utopia, 'Palatino Linotype', Palatino, serif; margin: 0px; position: relative; text-align: center;">
The journey to survival is not an easy one, there are many bumps in the roads. We are overcomers! </h3>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-84999694031678339192014-05-27T00:38:00.000-07:002014-05-27T01:00:34.105-07:00Meagan's Story - Placenta Previa and bi-lobed placenta<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">5 Day old embryo</td></tr>
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My first baby boy was born in 2011 via c section and I had an ectopic pregnancy in 2012 which required a D&C and removal of my one working (or not maybe lol) tube. IVF was to be our only option to conceive. <br />
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I started my IVF journey in November 2012 and discovered I was pregnant in December. I started bleeding at just 3.5 weeks and was put on modified duties. A scan at 6 weeks showed a happy baby with a strong heartbeat. I was still spotting and my dr told me to take it easy and continue pelvic rest (which I had been on since 4 weeks). At 9 weeks I was at work and had a significant bleed and was convinced that I had lost the baby. An ultrasound showed a happy baby who was growing perfectly. I did 15 weeks of bed rest and at my 12 week scan I was told I had a placenta previa that was not likely to move. When I saw my ob he said it was not previa as it was too early to diagnose and told me to just keep taking it easy and see him every 3 weeks. I continued to spot but continued life as normal. My 20 week scan showed that my placenta had not moved and was bi-lobed and completely covering my cervix. The MFM sonographer and my OB both said it was unlikely to resolve. It also revealed that we were having a little boy. <br />
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At 21 weeks my section was booked for a month before my due date- I would be 35&4. Just 5 days later I had a bleed. I will always remember the day as it was our wedding anniversary. I rang my OB (it was 5pm and he was grocery shopping lol) and he had me go straight to the hospital. Bub as checked and was happy and I was admitted for monitoring and spent a week in hospital and another week at home on bed rest.<br />
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I saw my OB at 24 weeks and we discussed steroid injections and what to do if I had a massive bleed as I was an hour from hospital. He prepped me that if I had another bleed I would not be leaving the hospital until baby was born. I started steroid injections at 30 weeks and had one a week. At 33 weeks I had another scan with the MFM which showed I still had CPP but no Vasa was detected (we already knew this as OB has a ultrasound machine in his office so we were seeing it every 2-3 weeks).<br />
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On 11 July 2013 I arrived at the hospital for my scheduled section, which was to take place in the main theatre. I met my OB, a special care nurse, the pediatrician, anesthetist and the heap of others who would be there for the birth of my baby. The anesthetist had blood on standby and discussed that they would let me be awake but would put me under if needed after baby was born. Hubby was with me and at 9.35am our beautiful baby boy Fletcher James was born weighing 6lb12. <br />
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Baby was taken off to be cleaned up and checked out and I laid there anxiously listening to the sounds of my OB. After a little while (it seemed like forever) he announced that he was happy. Placenta had come away easy and bleeding was minimal. I was taken to recovery while baby was taken to special care for some breathing issues. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My first feed</td></tr>
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Fletcher was put on CPAP and I got to see him on my way back to my room. It was a shock to see him but the nurses assured me that he was a great size and would be fine. I was checked every 30 minutes for the first 5 hours and then hourly for the night to monitor bleeding. I was up early the next morning, showered and off to special care to see my baby. <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Fletcher in his humidcrib</td></tr>
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Fletcher was off CPAP within 24 hours, in an open crib day 2 and allowed into my room by day 3 during the day. We were released together day 6. My pregnancy was not how I would have planned it but the end result was worth it- Fletcher is perfect! We have decided that we have two healthy amazing boys so our family is complete but I still question if maybe Fletcher's pregnancy was different we would have had another. <br />
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<br />Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-7109087823204466752014-05-25T01:18:00.000-07:002014-05-25T01:30:46.963-07:00Infant and Pregnancy Loss - Babies We Honour You. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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Placenta Previa and Accreta, are life threatening conditions for both Mothers and Babies. While the journey of these pregnancy conditions is stressful and can be heartbreaking, being separated from family and friend, feeling like a like a ticking time bomb, doing what you can in the hope to give your precious baby more time to grow, get strong, and flourish. However there are situations we can't prevent. Labours that can't be stopped, and for many many reasons we can't carry our blessings to term.<br />
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These babies are just as much a part of us as all of our others, and we would do what ever we could to have them here and watch them grow. This is a page to honour those babies that didn't make it. If you have lost a baby in the journey of placenta previa, and or placenta accreta, we want to honour that baby. Sharing a photo, picture, name, phrase that speaks to you.<br />
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In honour of the twin we didn't get to met. I will met you in heaven.<br />
- 23rd of November 2012<br />
- Christina Mathewson<br />
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- If you would like to add to this post please message me at cmathewson.hfa.aus.nz@gmail.comAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-69978653556741598862014-05-24T22:02:00.000-07:002014-05-24T22:02:45.939-07:00Kirsten's Story of surviving Percreta<div class="MsoNormal">
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<h2>
<span style="font-size: 16px; line-height: 18.399999618530273px;"><b><span style="font-family: Georgia, Times New Roman, serif;">My Placenta Percreta Story</span></b></span></h2>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I had been blessed with three beautiful healthy children, with
uneventful pregnancies. They were all born healthy, by caesarean section. I was
pregnant with our fourth baby, and I was so happy. I’d always wanted four
babies. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Unfortunately, this pregnancy ended at 8 weeks, when there was no
heartbeat found at my first scan. I was absolutely devastated. I had to have a
d&c. </span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 115%;">Another confirmed pregnancy, followed by another miscarriage. Then
another pregnancy, followed by yet another miscarriage, and another d&c was
required. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I felt like all hope for having another baby was fading. I decided to
see a gynaecologist/obstetrician to see if there was any reason as to why this
was happening. No reason could be found, so we were told to keep trying. When I
confirmed that I was pregnant again, I was almost too scared to be
excited.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The Doctor that I was seeing
had a small ultrasound machine in his rooms, so I was having very frequent
scans from as soon as I knew I was pregnant, more for my piece of mind than
anything else. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I started bleeding early in my pregnancy, and just couldn’t
believe it. Surely it wasn’t happening again. This time though, every scan I
had showed our beautiful, precious baby growing, and healthy. The reason behind
all the bleeding was a peri-sac haematoma. The Doctor said that this would
resolve on it’s own, and then the bleeding would stop. I think I bled from
about 5 weeks to about 14 weeks. I changed Doctors to a local Doctor, as I had
been travelling an hour to see the gynaecologist/obstetrician.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>At my 19 week scan, I was told I had placenta
previa, that was completely covering the os. All I was told was that if I had
any more bleeding, to go straight to a hospital. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was going really well, and
the baby was growing beautifully inside me. I didn’t start to organise much,
and thought that once I reached the 30 week mark, I would start getting
organised. My other three babies had all been born within about 10 days of
their due dates, so I thought that this time would be the same! At about 26
½<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>weeks, I had a bleed. My kids were at
school, and my husband was at work. I rang my Doctor, and he told me to pack a
bag and organise for someone to take me to a hospital about 35 minutes away, as
the local hospital wasn’t equipped for my situation. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was absolutely
terrified, and got a friend of mine to take me to the hospital. Once there, I
was assessed and had an ultrasound and admitted for the night. The next day the
Doctor told me they wanted me to get an MRI of my pelvis done, to further check
the placenta, and to check for a condition called placenta accreta. I was also
told that I would be in hospital for a minimum of a week. I was devastated. I
was missing my babies like crazy (and my husband).<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The MRI showed possible placenta accreta, so
I had to be transferred to another hospital, as this hospital didn’t have the
facilities to help a baby born prior to 33 weeks. I felt like I was going to
the other end of the earth, and just sobbed uncontrollably until the ambulance
came to transfer me and bub. I was settled into my new room. I had an echo on
my heart, as I had a VSD repair when I was 16 months old, and now have a leaky
pulmonary valve. Thankfully the cardiologist didn’t think this would be any
cause for concern. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I remember the day my husband and babies came to visit for the first
time since I had been admitted. I was like an excited kid on Christmas Day!!!!
It was such an amazing day, and we had a wonderful time together. I was given
my one and only day leave for the whole of my hospital stay. A couple of days
later the Doctor came to see me about my MRI results and told me that they
weren’t sure if it was accreta, or a big fibroid (which is some kind of benign
growth). They would do another MRI in a day or so, and do it deeper so that
they could hopefully get more information. She said that they wouldn’t let my
pregnancy progress any further than 37 weeks if it was accreta. When I had my
next MRI, the results weren’t good. The placenta had grown into my caesarean scar
and through to other structures, possibly the bladder. I had placenta percreta.
This meant that I would need a hysterectomy, and possibly bladder surgery. I
couldn’t believe this was happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"> had bleeds here and there, and was just monitored each time. As long as the
baby was ok, and not distressed, they would leave me as long as the bleeding
didn’t get worse. My caesarean date would now be at 34 weeks, instead of 37
weeks. At 28 ½ weeks, I had my glucose tolerance test, and it came back that I
had gestational diabetes! Due to the upcoming surgery, and them wanting me to
be in optimal health, they started doing finger pricks on me four times a day,
and administered insulin if needed. I also started having celestone injections,
which are steroids to help mature the baby’s lungs. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The bleeds continued, with no real pattern to
them. Some days I would have them, some days I wouldn’t. They increased in
frequency, but not in amount. Each time I was monitored, and baby was checked.
They would much rather do my surgery and deliver the baby under a controlled
situation, rather than an emergency situation. All of the Doctors and Nurses
have been so wonderful here, they are more than happy to answer any questions I
have, even when I ask them a million times!! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I was absolutely terrified, but so
glad that I have my faith, and also that the Doctors are aware of my situation,
and can prepare for it as much as possible. When I was 32 weeks, the Doctors
held a big meeting with everyone that would be involved with my surgery. From
this meeting they discussed the pros and cons of waiting until 34 weeks to
deliver the baby. They decided that my surgery would be brought forward to 32
weeks and 4 days. I signed forms to consent to surgery, and a hysterectomy if
required. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The day of the surgery arrived, and I was so scared. I had lots of
tears, but I was also so excited to meet this precious baby that was growing
inside of me. I got up early and had a shower, and then was wheeled to the
theatre waiting bay at around 7.15am. I was checked in for theatre, and then
met with my Doctors who did a quick ultrasound to check the positioning of the
placenta. They answered any questions I had. In theatre they would have the
ultrasound machine to use. They would also be using the cell saver machine
which would filter any blood I lose, and put it back into my body. At around
8.30am I was wheeled off to angiogram, where I had my groin x-rayed before
being given a local anaesthetic in each side. I then had balloon catheters put
into my major uterine arteries, that could be inflated if I had a lot of
bleeding, to minimise blood loss. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">At around 10am I was wheeled to theatre and
prepped for the surgery. The anaesthetist put in an arterial line in my left
wrist to measure blood pressure. I don’t like the oxygen masks, and had
previously asked if I could avoid this at all. They were very kind, and just
gave me the tube to suck on, without the mask, so I still got the oxygen. I was
then given the general anaesthetic, and was asleep. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Wmti6OAcu69fDyNNzWlrgoZ_tyLnzX-DI-Tvd6dGMw0TggjS5r-a61HkdFxc1LO-ZVI_xuv871EAm16GFqYv9X9Wmo68C29xOTCBPMS2-DGDrzjOZPUMuYSY_6zsD0gxB1SxrrXdrmk/s1600/1524.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9Wmti6OAcu69fDyNNzWlrgoZ_tyLnzX-DI-Tvd6dGMw0TggjS5r-a61HkdFxc1LO-ZVI_xuv871EAm16GFqYv9X9Wmo68C29xOTCBPMS2-DGDrzjOZPUMuYSY_6zsD0gxB1SxrrXdrmk/s1600/1524.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Our precious baby daughter was born at 12.32pm. She had to have a
breathing tube put in because of the general anaesthetic I had.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">With my surgery, they put in ureter stents so that they could feel where
the ureters were easily during surgery. I had a CVC line put in my neck, and
also had a least one other large gelco in my arm. There was minimal blood loss
to begin with, and the placenta wasn’t attached to the abdominal wall, or to
the bladder thankfully. It came away easily from the right side. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The left side
was another story. The placenta had wrapped around a major blood vessel
supplying the placenta, and apparently started to bleed like a tap running. I
thank God for the gynae-oncology surgeon that was there, as he was able to
remove the placenta, and told me he was madly stitching. I’m not sure how long
that took, or how much blood I lost. I needed a blood transfusion, and had 3
units. <span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I also had a hysterectomy. I was
closed up, and was apparently woken up in theatre before being taken to ICU,
although I have no recollection of this. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">I remember waking up in ICU at around
4pm. I remember being so thankful that our baby was safe, and that I was safe
and alive. At around 2am, they took out the balloons in my groin. I had a
really sore lower back and had to lie still for a few hours with pressure on
them so that they didn’t bleed. This scared me a lot. I was on Fentanyl (a bit
like morphine) for pain relief, but this didn’t seem to help the back pain. I
was sick a couple of times, which really hurt, and I remember they had to roll
me to change the sheets, which hurt a lot. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGJQLoMDa0RK8mjvp1iT5hmmCjqb3vm33wXzAJhxdbVmaGS6DSHxVgIC4K8SSxW1Rn4bL4ypGVPY4PMa8uk-UN2WCPA26L8ZlESK54eq-7Ld0U6NHWhD0QvukZ3yoWpCaK2vixRkTeFY/s1600/1533.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjGJQLoMDa0RK8mjvp1iT5hmmCjqb3vm33wXzAJhxdbVmaGS6DSHxVgIC4K8SSxW1Rn4bL4ypGVPY4PMa8uk-UN2WCPA26L8ZlESK54eq-7Ld0U6NHWhD0QvukZ3yoWpCaK2vixRkTeFY/s1600/1533.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Miley Ella Grace</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Our baby girl’s breathing tube was
taken out around midnight, and she is doing really well. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">The next day we decided on a name for our beautiful baby daughter. Her
name is Miley Ella Grace. She weighed 1850g (4lb) at birth, and was 43.5cm
long. I was shifted from ICU to the ward, and was wheeled in my bed to see
Miley for the first time. She was in intensive care, doing really well. The
following day, I got my first cuddle of our beautiful, precious baby, Miley.
What a very special time that was. I could have laid there cuddling her all
day! <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSOqIus8JU-30tx5VC15S-5p00SwwLFuqaVNd_Pi25d58nFOyvKjmK3PWjtqrJpP1C9j1cpSJWB6qU5A-TjuzSItP8JyqZPsPsmSVen_kRpPhqYZBsgv8mtY3Kr3F3CLUmJIJE4YUN5M/s1600/1526.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhwSOqIus8JU-30tx5VC15S-5p00SwwLFuqaVNd_Pi25d58nFOyvKjmK3PWjtqrJpP1C9j1cpSJWB6qU5A-TjuzSItP8JyqZPsPsmSVen_kRpPhqYZBsgv8mtY3Kr3F3CLUmJIJE4YUN5M/s1600/1526.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our First Cuddle</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;">Three days after surgery, I was really unwell with an ileus, which is
when your bowels go on strike and don’t work. It was so painful, and I couldn’t
move, or get comfortable. As I was too unwell to go to neonatal, a beautiful
midwife arranged for Miley to come to see me. It was just what I needed. The
ileus resolved later that afternoon, and I got out of bed for the first time.
The next day I was just really nauseous whenever I moved. This really hurt! I
was feeling much better later that night. Six days after having the surgery, I
had my CVC line taken out of my neck. The ureter stents were left in for about
6 weeks before being taken out under local anaesthetic. I was in hospital for 5
weeks before surgery, and then another 8 days after. Miley was in hospital for
a total of 4 weeks before we were able to bring her home. She is a beautiful,
caring, sweet girl and we are so thankful for our beautiful family. What was a
very hard and difficult time, was definitely worth it all.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2HUmR-dnW8IklXyQoJzmM-nDKkbARbYu44WheYEwv7ppt2yJhcOpKly5wvNyAYYCKRe7pUJVjJa9J5Gy-OTmE20hFw4zmCojgnYyoFzaGUgxITx5IVetNXcs-1XTDdkiQCLqIVwADPo/s1600/550529_10151130628280968_830986029_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjt2HUmR-dnW8IklXyQoJzmM-nDKkbARbYu44WheYEwv7ppt2yJhcOpKly5wvNyAYYCKRe7pUJVjJa9J5Gy-OTmE20hFw4zmCojgnYyoFzaGUgxITx5IVetNXcs-1XTDdkiQCLqIVwADPo/s1600/550529_10151130628280968_830986029_n.jpg" height="426" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">All Safely together.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 12.0pt; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-30895245462378611362014-05-19T04:50:00.002-07:002014-05-19T05:47:57.349-07:00WHO - World blood donor day.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/world-blood-donor-day-420x252.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://blogs.tribune.com.pk/wp-content/uploads/2010/06/world-blood-donor-day-420x252.jpg" height="180" width="320" /></a></div>
<br />
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<br />WHO - World blood donator day, is quickly coming up. </h2>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
The theme for this year is.............</div>
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<br />
<h2>
<b> "Safe blood for Saving mothers" </b></h2>
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<b><br /></b></div>
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<a href="http://www.birth.com.au/Birth/files/a3/a3c10875-62d7-416c-83a7-d0b120de2fa0.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.birth.com.au/Birth/files/a3/a3c10875-62d7-416c-83a7-d0b120de2fa0.jpg" height="194" width="320" /></a></div>
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<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><br /></b></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
Many women with Accreta will need a blood transfusion to save their lives, so that they can be here on the other side. The average transfusion for an Accreta mother is 8 units- around 4 litres of blood. Many however will need much more than that. I myself needed 54 Units and 80 blood products from around 134 donations. Without that gift of safe blood I would not be here today to enjoy my baby growing up. WHO Donor day is a time to for us who have received to help give back, by saying a big 'thank you' to all those that have generously given. </div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
If you, like me, have a received the gift of blood donation and want to be a part of giving back to donors this World Blood Donor Day, then send an email: <b>hfa.auz.na@gmail.com </b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="http://m1.behance.net/rendition/modules/15098392/disp/ad13c15ea03a245ab9b07b79f8638f67.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://m1.behance.net/rendition/modules/15098392/disp/ad13c15ea03a245ab9b07b79f8638f67.jpg" height="320" width="227" /></a></div>
<h1 class="headline" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 20px; line-height: 24px; margin: 0px 20px 12px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
"Safe blood for saving mothers"</h1>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-right: 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">The focus for this year’s campaign is “Safe blood for saving mothers”. The campaign will increase awareness about why timely access to safe blood and blood products is essential for all countries as part of a comprehensive approach to prevent maternal deaths.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-right: 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">WHO encourages all countries and national and international partners working on blood transfusion and maternal health to develop an activity plan to highlight the need for timely access to safe blood and blood products in the prevention of maternal deaths.</span></div>
<div class="image_left" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; float: left; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 13px; margin: 0px 20px 0px 0px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: 250px;">
<img alt="" src="http://www.who.int/entity/campaigns/world-blood-donor-day/2013/photos/who_021251_small.jpg" height="167" style="border: 0px; float: left; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; height: auto; margin: 0px 10px 0px 0px; max-width: 100%; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline; width: auto;" width="250" /><br />
<div class="image_credit" style="border: 0px; clear: both; color: #999999; float: left; font-family: inherit; font-size: 10px; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 12px; margin: 0px; max-width: 95%; outline: 0px; padding: 5px 0px 3px; vertical-align: baseline;">
WHO/O. O’Hanlon</div>
</div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-right: 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Activities may include commemorative events, meetings, publication / dissemination of relevant stories on media outlets, scientific conferences, publication of articles on national, regional and international scientific journals, and other activities that would help in promoting the theme of this year’s World Blood Donor Day (WBDD).</span></div>
<h3 class="section_head1" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 20px 9px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
Background information</h3>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-right: 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Every year, on 14 June, countries around the world celebrate World Blood Donor Day. The event raises awareness of the need for safe blood and blood products and to thank voluntary unpaid blood donors for their life-saving gifts of blood.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-right: 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Every day, about 800 women die from pregnancy or childbirth-related complications. Almost all of these deaths occur in developing countries. More than half of them occur in sub-Saharan Africa and almost one third in South Asia. The risk of maternal mortality is highest for adolescent girls under 15 years of age.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 18px; margin-bottom: 18px; margin-right: 20px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<span style="border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">Severe bleeding during delivery and after childbirth is a major cause of mortality, morbidity and long-term disability. However, access to safe and sufficient blood and blood products and the rational and safe use of blood transfusion still remain major challenges in many countries around the world.</span></div>
<h3 class="section_head1" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px; line-height: 18px; margin: 0px 20px 9px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
The objectives of this year’s global campaign</h3>
<ul class="disc" style="background-color: white; border: 0px; color: #333333; font-family: Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 13px; line-height: 13px; list-style: none outside; margin: 0px 20px 18px 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 0px; vertical-align: baseline;">
<li style="background-image: url(http://www.who.int/sysmedia/media/style/img/list.gif); background-position: 0% 0.5em; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 2px 0px 1px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;">Ministries of health, particularly in countries with high rates of maternal mortality, to take concrete steps towards ensuring that health facilities in their countries improve access to safe blood and blood products from volunteer donors for women giving birth.</li>
<li style="background-image: url(http://www.who.int/sysmedia/media/style/img/list.gif); background-position: 0% 0.5em; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 2px 0px 1px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;">National blood services in countries with high rates of maternal mortality to focus on safe blood for mothers in their activities and products for the 2014 campaign.</li>
<li style="background-image: url(http://www.who.int/sysmedia/media/style/img/list.gif); background-position: 0% 0.5em; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 2px 0px 1px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;">Maternal health programmes and partnerships engage in the 2014 campaign.</li>
<li style="background-image: url(http://www.who.int/sysmedia/media/style/img/list.gif); background-position: 0% 0.5em; background-repeat: no-repeat no-repeat; border: 0px; font-family: inherit; font-style: inherit; font-weight: inherit; line-height: 15px; margin: 0px; outline: 0px; padding: 2px 0px 1px 18px; vertical-align: baseline;">WHO and partners throughout the world highlight ." - <a href="http://www.who.int/campaigns/world-blood-donor-day/2014/event/en/">World Health Organisation</a></li>
</ul>
<h2 style="text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: inherit; font-size: 13px; font-style: inherit; line-height: 18px; text-align: center;"><br /></span></b></h2>
<h2 style="text-align: center;">
<span style="color: #333333; font-size: small;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 18px;">Don't forget if you would like to help, or be a face for the International Hope for Accreta Blood Drive in January 2015, please let us know. We look forward to hearing from you. </span></span></h2>
</div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
- Christina Mathewson</div>
<div>
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Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-19399800179574992252014-05-12T19:02:00.000-07:002014-05-12T19:02:02.963-07:00Jess's story with Grade 4 Placenta Previa<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8cKVHqHWq4mFJB1qJibVJzWRtNsCfzokuUIaC5ZpcFaI-BDMCQs7A6EfGvXClgoUmUmddvDWV0hEsIFlUjcEZ8PqyD1jmTGlucEoYEmgRh8wc8scR7AFTk0eAmQX2iPm1Q2-Qh0fRJg/s1600/551201_10151954518160089_859380963_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo8cKVHqHWq4mFJB1qJibVJzWRtNsCfzokuUIaC5ZpcFaI-BDMCQs7A6EfGvXClgoUmUmddvDWV0hEsIFlUjcEZ8PqyD1jmTGlucEoYEmgRh8wc8scR7AFTk0eAmQX2iPm1Q2-Qh0fRJg/s1600/551201_10151954518160089_859380963_n.jpg" height="400" width="298" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">My fourth pregnancy (my son was born when i was 26) was smooth sailing until 20 weeks. I had no morning sickness, no bleeds nothing. After my third pregnancy i thought i had got off lightly. Then the 20 week ultrasound said i had placenta previa. By 23 weeks I had big bleeds. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">at 31 weeks I went to my check up with my ob, there i had a bleed in the waiting room and contractions. The ob and head ob (who later became my ob) decided it was safer for me to be admitted. I had steroid injections. I remember ringing hubby scared, i was alone, being told all this information and everything seemed overwhelming. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSQFzqYXytwOrxX19Hs4TdzzRdodLLNwpCldMMRIJw4JP3SGJrqF75UzQRm4YzhHHzCzP6Pp_rGLv6tpBj5kvF0yCuwwCCME3pbfvyqBy839fpjjNMMakMIpiMHcInB5TzHV9M72Mrlg/s1600/480310_10151945092865089_1381429844_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhbSQFzqYXytwOrxX19Hs4TdzzRdodLLNwpCldMMRIJw4JP3SGJrqF75UzQRm4YzhHHzCzP6Pp_rGLv6tpBj5kvF0yCuwwCCME3pbfvyqBy839fpjjNMMakMIpiMHcInB5TzHV9M72Mrlg/s1600/480310_10151945092865089_1381429844_n.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></div>
<br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">The head Ob set me the mini goal of reaching 34 weeks. I couldn't go home. I was having too many bleeds. No drs or midwives were allowed to touch my stomach for fundal height measurements, the only time my stomach got touched was by the head OB or for the monitor straps to be put on. I was stuck in hospital . </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">Hubby had to take time off work to care for our older 3 boys. Every day that passed made me cheer. It was one day closer to my goal. 34 weeks would mean my baby wouldn't need to go to melbourne. I was too unstable to go to the melb hospital while still pregnant. Once I reached 34 weeks (after being in hospital for now 3 weeks) the OB hi5'ed me . <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKiS0mf0OeZ4jF45W3p_Bsxzo1Rx3M4OuLBSR52EEV4ZnmJZpeq9R6AmB2kjGjrfl8ABVDxC1K9Y_-zSSfSq-IEoyKSjlDiKERuOBg03QiVf3a__w-PsgKjI6bH7Oo3mrU0ZQTELiGkYY/s1600/538176_10151858501455089_5397720_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKiS0mf0OeZ4jF45W3p_Bsxzo1Rx3M4OuLBSR52EEV4ZnmJZpeq9R6AmB2kjGjrfl8ABVDxC1K9Y_-zSSfSq-IEoyKSjlDiKERuOBg03QiVf3a__w-PsgKjI6bH7Oo3mrU0ZQTELiGkYY/s1600/538176_10151858501455089_5397720_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">I had monitoring after every bleed to check how my baby was going. I was told if i got a big bleed or had any further regular contractions i would be taken down to have an emergency csection then and there. I spent a night in birth suite being monitored once. being wheeled in and seeing all the IV stuff ready for me made me burst into tears. I texted hubby who knew to be on standby for a call from the hospital just in case. I watched tv and read a few magazines, the monitor tracking all my contractions. As the contractions stopped after being given medications I was whisked back to my ward room. I would be back in birth suite at 35 weeks. Again, monitored and then eventually sent back to my room. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">I had an ultrasound at 36 weeks to do a final check on bub and placenta. The ultrasound showed bub would be on the small side of average, and he was breech. The night before my csection a midwife came and chatted to me and watched tv shows with me, a lot of the ward staff had grown fond of as i never whinged. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">the day of my csection, i was so anxious. I tried putting on a brave face. I'd never had a csection before. It was all new to me. My ob had agreed to follow my birth plan that had delayed clamping in it, and what i wanted to happen if i was separated from my baby. As soon as I was in the prep room of the theatre I burst into tears. Hubby tried to reassure me it was ok etc, but I recall telling him it wasn't ok. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4fq5YRthV-ERzPvxByZz818tjHnehrqYFvwHNF2vJBfqvArKRooToknyhmwtSuKeOCNd83EQwm3S0ZEB2fVbkaItl7GI6fMMJNGeWtCWz9MzzkkTQxjfW6Xf7p1Xs6tpqjI14bhRYhx0/s1600/409771_10151953656860089_1926733125_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4fq5YRthV-ERzPvxByZz818tjHnehrqYFvwHNF2vJBfqvArKRooToknyhmwtSuKeOCNd83EQwm3S0ZEB2fVbkaItl7GI6fMMJNGeWtCWz9MzzkkTQxjfW6Xf7p1Xs6tpqjI14bhRYhx0/s1600/409771_10151953656860089_1926733125_n.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></div>
</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">then the spinal block attempts started, first attempt failed. I cried. then attempt 2 failed and I started to freak out, i knew if the next one failed It was GA for me. Attempt 3 worked. but that was with hubby holding one hand , an </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">anesthesiologist holding the other and a midwife talking to me all trying to keep me calm. I have a history of anxiety attacks, they wanted to avoid that happening.</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">Once the csection started, the anesthesiologist showed me that i couldn't feel below my breasts by holding an ice block along my body. Lots of IV's and tubes were in my arms. One was measuring my BP and pulse. I recall the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">anesthesiologist saying " can you feel anything? its started now" and I said " oh really? i thought i'd get a count down or something " my baby was out within 15 mins of the csection. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">A healthy baby boy. He was 48cm and 8lb 2oz, everyone said he was a good size for a 37 weeker. Then , the Ob turned his attention to me, the midwife ushered hubby to come with her to recovery room to do measurements etc, i knew she was following my birth plan and it meant something was going bad. Then I blacked out. I came too with the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">anesthesiologist talking to me and saying "stay with me jess" and i recall hearing voices asking how much bags of blood was on stand by.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">I told the </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">anesthesiologist as he sat next to me, i felt dizzy and sleepy , he told me to stay awake and it would be ok. after 45 min of entering the operating room, i was stitched up and in the recovery room. I finally got to hold my baby. All my fears and anxiety over how scary the csection would be etc vanished. It turned out , that hubby was sent out as soon as my PPH started and he was sent out as a precaution in case it went really bad. Hubby wasn't even aware that I had requested he be kept with our baby at all times. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">Our son didn't require SCN or NICU. He took to the breast within 20 mins. and He breastfed all the way back to the ward from recovery room. </span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">Alistair Ryan</span><br style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;" /><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'Helvetica Neue', Helvetica, Arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14.399999618530273px; line-height: 20px;">48cm 8lb 2oz</span>Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-50089705772759039432014-04-23T20:24:00.001-07:002014-06-05T05:59:16.276-07:00Simone's story with Placenta Percreta, Complete Placenta Previa, and Bicuspid Aortic Stenosis <div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0cm;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAqoLOkvy1u_K6GhPzN_IY2iglcPWmR1P4Aa2A6-jbaTh-OXHClv_9g1Xw0ldzEL5svSXIZxU8NWmHniFQ2WUEDYgkbMwQa_jbNZ1yQEymNZEzc2l2nmhOK7sCtrg__sT_hYNBnKfIX4/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjFAqoLOkvy1u_K6GhPzN_IY2iglcPWmR1P4Aa2A6-jbaTh-OXHClv_9g1Xw0ldzEL5svSXIZxU8NWmHniFQ2WUEDYgkbMwQa_jbNZ1yQEymNZEzc2l2nmhOK7sCtrg__sT_hYNBnKfIX4/s1600/image.jpeg" height="320" width="213" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Family</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At the age of fifteen, I was diagnosed with a serious
congenital heart condition, Bicuspid Aortic Stenosis. At the age of eighteen, I
was told I needed to have children as soon as possible, something that was far
from my mind at that time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I married my soul mate in 2011 at the age of twenty six,
children were on our immediate agenda and I quickly sort the advice of a
cardiac specialist to find out whether it was safe for me to get pregnant. At
the appointment I was told it should be safe and a follow up echocardiogram
should confirm this. We took this as a good sign and immediately started trying
to conceive, positive news quickly followed. We had succeeded at our first
attempt to conceive and I was pregnant. Two weeks later I attended the
specialist to receive the result of my echocardiogram, the news was not
positive. The specialist told us I should not get pregnant before having my
aortic valve replaced as the valve area was under the safe allowance of one
centimetre. At this stage we told the specialist I was already two weeks
pregnant. </span><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My care was transferred to Flinders Medical Centre, which
was 45 minutes from our house, on a good day. I was considered a high risk
patient. I made all the doctors nervous and all medical departments involved
knew who I was. The pregnancy was fairly uneventful, other than breathlessness,
some slight chest pain, swelling and palpitations, that was until twenty nine
weeks gestation. I walked into my obstetricians office on this one Friday, she
took one look at me and rushed me to be admitted. I couldn’t say three words
without taking a breath, I was clammy and my lungs had fluid on them. My heart
had started to fail. I remember seeing the surgical equipment sitting outside
of my room just in case. I was given steroids for the baby’s lungs and
preparations were made to deliver me after the weekend. All of my medications
were increased and the medical team worked hard to clear the fluid off my
lungs, fortunately they succeeded and by Monday I was doing a lot better. </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">I continued the pregnancy without event. I met with the
anaesthetist and was told I had a 1 in 100 chance of not making the surgery and
a 50 percent chance of complications occurring, I cried. I found it
particularly hard to bond with my first unborn child, I even remember telling
my husband I wanted her to call me Simone instead of mummy. On some level I
blamed our unborn daughter for my deteriorating health and possibility of not
being around to meet her; I knew I needed to seek counselling so I did. The
mental health nurse helped me prepare for the worst case scenario, I prepared
my will and wrote letters to my husband and unborn child. I cried often at the
possibilities and days before the surgery my husband and I embraced crying in
each other’s arms, we were scared. At 36 weeks and 2 days gestation, on the 27<sup><span style="font-size: x-small;">th</span></sup>
March 2012, the planned caesarean section was performed under general
anaesthetic. Our daughter was born and everything went well, I spent 36 hours
in the Intensive Care Unit for observation before being transferred to the
normal maternity ward. I met Isabella Jade approximately five hours after the
surgery, she spent three days in the NICU and was then released to room in with
me. Isabella was perfect and I had no problems at all connecting with her. My
health returned and my heart symptoms disappeared after the pregnancy.</span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8y8IvzF3xWyVzqsfzpWndusMBTwnxyqVpm_VeiirB_D2mUuNN0eYR3UudwREB674AiWsfH-ribPyZB_CkZH3PRdS-beL_w54zvBDpoC-4dnwyOre1QGwGFyuxebPz_wUGo4yXJ66sx-U/s1600/image.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh8y8IvzF3xWyVzqsfzpWndusMBTwnxyqVpm_VeiirB_D2mUuNN0eYR3UudwREB674AiWsfH-ribPyZB_CkZH3PRdS-beL_w54zvBDpoC-4dnwyOre1QGwGFyuxebPz_wUGo4yXJ66sx-U/s1600/image.jpeg" height="400" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Isabella and me</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<o:p></o:p><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Approximately sixteen months later we decided we wanted to
start trying for our second child. Again we discussed this with my
cardiologist, Doctor Robert Minson at Flinders Cardiac Clinic, and he gave us
the all clear. We had done this before, we knew I could make it through the
surgery. We were quietly confident everything would be just fine, so we started
trying to conceive. Soon after we received positive news, we had again
succeeded at our first attempt to conceive our second child. By six weeks, my
care was transferred to Flinders Medical Centre, under Doctor Jay MacGavigan
and Doctor Bill Jefferies. Every two weeks I drove an hour and a half to attend
appointments. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Symptoms of heart failure started presenting by eleven weeks
and my doctors quickly responded by increasing my medications as necessary. I
was feeling good, enjoying my second pregnancy unlike I had been able to do
with my first. We had done this before, I had survived my last pregnancy and I
knew I could again. We were so confident that I didn't even have any plans to
prepare for my death this time. The pregnancy progressed quickly and before we
knew it I was twenty weeks along. We attended the anomaly scan and it was
wonderful to see our growing baby, we decided not to find out the gender of
bubs. One week later I attended a routine appointment with Doctor MacGavigan. I
was feeling really good. I walked into my doctor’s office and the first thing
she said to me was “you don’t do things by halves do you Simone”? I was
confused, I thought things were going so well, I asked the doctor what I had
done, at this time she informed me that the placenta was completely covering my
cervix. I asked the doctor what she meant, she told me that I had complete
placenta previa which would result in a caesarean section. I am not allowed to
give birth naturally or go into labour normally because of my heart condition,
so I was already having a planned caesarean section anyway however as the
doctor revealed the concern was that the placenta was sitting directly over my
previous caesarean scar and that it could have attached. “If that is the case I
will have to do a hysterectomy”….<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">All I heard was the word hysterectomy, we had been talking
about having a third baby, I wanted a third baby. I was told that I needed to
be on pelvic rest and if I had a bleed I would need to come directly to the
emergency department of the nearest hospital. I left the hospital hysterical,
without asking any questions. I phoned my mum and husband and broke the news
but none of us truly understood what I was facing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-bottom: 0.5em; margin-left: 1em; padding: 6px; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><div style="margin: 0px;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwH7qkm85WvqFV7-cBybNFpTHF_u0OQqGjyMk8-7vHU5EY9aWki3K7PnfcU2FSw2T9tFQhXj05aYIAydP4yCk6qThbWW7emsECfLqIt20H1ERsl8QCuQt3gdEDHZtetPvW1q59F6vAbr4/s1600/Reduced+size+pregnancy+shot.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgwH7qkm85WvqFV7-cBybNFpTHF_u0OQqGjyMk8-7vHU5EY9aWki3K7PnfcU2FSw2T9tFQhXj05aYIAydP4yCk6qThbWW7emsECfLqIt20H1ERsl8QCuQt3gdEDHZtetPvW1q59F6vAbr4/s1600/Reduced+size+pregnancy+shot.JPG" height="320" width="212" /></a></div>
</td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="font-size: 13px; padding-top: 4px; text-align: center;"><div style="margin: 0px;">
Pregnant with Noah at 32 Weeks</div>
<div>
<br /></div>
</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At home I spent the weekend googling “complete placenta previa”,
and “placenta attached to caesarean scar”…I read the words “placenta accreta”
on my screen. I wondered what this placenta accreta was, why hadn’t I ever
heard of it before, how come no one I knew had ever had this before. By Monday
morning I was a mess, I couldn’t eat and I cried constantly…things did not look
good, how could I survive this with my heart condition. I was able to get in
contact with my obstetrician that morning and ask her all the questions I had.
Doctor MacGavigan reassured me “I promise you Simone, you are going to be
okay”. I held onto those words the entire pregnancy. In the early hours of the
next morning, I had my first bleed. At 1 am, I called Birthing and Assessment
and they told me to come in. My grandmother watched my daughter, while I
frantically drove myself to the hospital. When I arrived, the nurses asked if I
was still bleeding, I was so scared to check just in case I was having the
“big” bleed I had read all about. At the hospital I was observed. Medical staff
were already talking about me and a senior anaesthetist came to visit me, he
reminded me how dangerous the situation was. Optimistically I tried to convince
the Registrars that the placenta could still move, they were not so hopeful.
Thankfully the bleeding stopped and I was released by lunch time the next day. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At 24 weeks gestation I had a MRI scan to see if the accreta
could be confirmed. I clang onto hope that this was all just a mistake and the
MRI scan would say I didn’t have the accreta. The MRI scan results came back
inconclusive. That same day we had a scan to see what the gender of the baby
was, I needed to address my letters and gifts to my baby properly. I cried when
it was revealed that we were having a boy. As the weeks went on, I learnt more
and more about accreta, what is was, why it happened, the risk factors,
diagnosis and treatment. I learnt that it was hard to positively diagnose as it
could not be easily detected on ultrasound or MRI. Medical professionals were
able to suspect accreta based on the position of the placenta and risk factors,
including previous births and caesarean sections, previous dilation and
curettage’s, maternal age and history of any other uterine scarring but they
could not be positive. However, the condition was considered rare. At my 28
week ultrasound, I again held out hope that they would discover I did not have
the accreta or the placenta had moved and again the results were inconclusive.
Our baby was growing well though, this was a relief. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNc5zemKGYygSmUsQQKYBcoYChPON3UemUoO8UDpkZyytw8Ftfr01nz30EXVIR8SMrgnIMfw51SDXR7Y9HR53wvZL6NETTZfjm56DWaIyo3F_YhQDoKzcIO6LZX6paIQf8gw-n6FrZVo/s1600/IMG_2921.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwNc5zemKGYygSmUsQQKYBcoYChPON3UemUoO8UDpkZyytw8Ftfr01nz30EXVIR8SMrgnIMfw51SDXR7Y9HR53wvZL6NETTZfjm56DWaIyo3F_YhQDoKzcIO6LZX6paIQf8gw-n6FrZVo/s1600/IMG_2921.JPG" height="220" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smallprint pins</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: left;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At approximately 30 weeks I was told I needed to stop
working so I did. As the weeks went by, we came to terms with the fact it was
likely I had the accreta, or possibly worse. I began preparing for the worst
case scenario. I felt like a ticking time bomb as I waited for the “big bleed”
as a result of the complete placenta previa. I was still on pelvic rest which
meant I was unable to be intimate with my husband and was unable to perform any
strenuous activity. I was also not allowed to be more than 30 minutes away from
any major hospital. It was all taking a toll on my relationship with my
husband, my family and my friends. I spent my time preparing special gifts for
my children including a patchwork quilt for my unborn son and a patchwork
cushion for my daughter. I also had silver Smallprint pins made for them with
my fingerprint on them so that I could still be close on those special days,
even if I was not there in person. I tried to enjoy what I believed to be my
last few months of my life spending quality time with my daughter.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn5cKOJCKL4kpYSoA6PDrvPdk2af-vAwshYo-Ze-ACG5M68OuW2OmtGfgPuRfzcZJn-OjwHIT5SaYEKXuj1vOFj_igP31G_63QpYXrcJJzEqpN2h5wxbSIOuDwyPFbMvkh-MHLWukv90/s1600/IMG_2911.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEibn5cKOJCKL4kpYSoA6PDrvPdk2af-vAwshYo-Ze-ACG5M68OuW2OmtGfgPuRfzcZJn-OjwHIT5SaYEKXuj1vOFj_igP31G_63QpYXrcJJzEqpN2h5wxbSIOuDwyPFbMvkh-MHLWukv90/s1600/IMG_2911.jpg" height="200" width="185" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cushion I Made for my Daughter </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span><br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Just before 32 weeks I had another MRI scan, we were hopeful
this scan would give us answers. I was scared to find out the results but also
optimistic. At this time my care was transferred to Doctor Elinor Atkinson.
Doctor Atkinson had 37 years’ experience in obstetrics as well as extensive
experience with patients suffering placenta previa and accreta. At my first
appointment with her I would get the results of the MRI and I had a long list
of questions to ask her. The MRI scan was again inconclusive. I was devastated.
Doctor Atkinson was able to answer all my questions though and before I even
asked she discussed preventative and interventional measures such as iliac
balloon catheters, central lines, a vertical (classical) incision and cell
savers (a machine in the operating room which would clean a portion of the
blood I lost and return it to me). I felt extremely confident with Elinor and I
asked her straight “do you think I have the accreta”, she nodded and said she
would be amazed if she got in there and it wasn’t an accreta, I was a sitting
duck for it. Things were getting hard at this stage as I was getting more and
more tired and was now attending up to 4 appointments a fortnight at the
hospital, the driving was horrible and I was feeling miserable. During this
week we got 3D ultrasound done and I had a maternity photo shoot which helped
me bond with my baby and enjoy the pregnancy even for a short time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span><o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsz98KYvzwyqyxzoHit6fwLET089_fLtIkUHkpXMTUBbDBvOjUDhAAZakHwjh1PuPBc4Cn5yqPE-ZovNYksMdTGBHV2FL9RYFhaQZA5z1zIW-pMw5sAjpmFSLjCrRqkhcSDYZ0lcSnbA/s1600/3D+Ultrasound+of+Noah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLsz98KYvzwyqyxzoHit6fwLET089_fLtIkUHkpXMTUBbDBvOjUDhAAZakHwjh1PuPBc4Cn5yqPE-ZovNYksMdTGBHV2FL9RYFhaQZA5z1zIW-pMw5sAjpmFSLjCrRqkhcSDYZ0lcSnbA/s1600/3D+Ultrasound+of+Noah.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Noah in Utero </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span> </div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A week later I met with the anaesthetists. A junior doctor
discussed the procedure with me, he was very mundane in his explanation, it was
clear he didn’t seem confident at all. A senior anaesthetist joined the
appointment approximately one hour in. Doctor Tim Porter was humorous in his
discussions, but he made it clear that they were all very nervous going into my
surgery. Based on my heart condition and the suspected Placenta Accreta I was
given a 1 in 20 chance of dying and a 66% chance of complications occurring
which could also result in death. Suddenly it all dawned on me, I smiled and
laughed at Tim’s jokes and acted like I wasn’t fazed but I was scared, so very
scared. From that time onwards I became a wreck. My mind was a mess and I remember hoping I wouldn't have the "big" bleed but also wishing that I did because I had heard you don't normally bleed when you had Accreta. I thought if I could just have a bleed it would mean I didn't have Accreta. I cried almost every night in
the shower while my husband slept and during the day while he worked. Night after night I watched
my daughter sleep for up to an hour sometimes, taking in her smell, her little
hands and feet, the feel of her soft skin, her perfection.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At 33 weeks +6 days pregnant, we met with Dr Elinor
Atkinson. Elinor set the date of the Caesarean section for the 13th March 2014,
I would be 35 weeks +6 days pregnant. I would be admitted 2 days prior to have
steroid injections for my baby’s lungs and so all doctors involved could meet
with me if they wanted to. I had complained to Elinor about reduced movements
that were more painful, Elinor ordered a CTG test to check the baby’s
movements. The test ran for approximately 30 minutes and during that time bubs
moved plenty. Everything appeared good, we just had to wait for the day of the
c section. At 34 weeks + 4 days I had another growth scan as requested by
Elinor. At the scan sonographer took a very long time to do the scan, I assumed
she was looking to confirm the Accreta. I asked lots of questions at the scan,
including if I had placental lakes, which I did. By this stage I knew a lot
about Accreta and I knew placental lakes were a sign of Accreta. After an hour
of scanning, the sonographer called the doctor in, I could hear her saying “see
it disappears there”, I knew she was talking about the uterine wall and I just
knew I had the Accreta, but still they would not confirm it. I also heard the
sonographers and the doctor talking about the amniotic fluid and at the end of
the appointment I was asked to stay until they could speak with an
obstetrician. The on call obstetrician came down to see me and explained that
the amniotic fluid was low and that she was unable to get hold of my doctor but
she would call me once she was able to. I phoned my husband and my family, I
knew I was most likely going to be admitted. At 3 pm that afternoon the on call
obstetrician called me and asked me to return to the hospital as Elinor wanted
to admit me until the surgery.</span></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4KdPU7ZK7EsT9zcwL0IdRvHgnjSKKZch5x3lFCN-d1lIbCT8DuXT3FEMNwPD0k4nGMbS_AYRplh-s1wIEtOyobdm9-nJZ-QkXf5WonagBQwIpZKeqXgaSoHhwsRJhEY3aGdi2vlnyfo/s1600/IMG_2917.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgu4KdPU7ZK7EsT9zcwL0IdRvHgnjSKKZch5x3lFCN-d1lIbCT8DuXT3FEMNwPD0k4nGMbS_AYRplh-s1wIEtOyobdm9-nJZ-QkXf5WonagBQwIpZKeqXgaSoHhwsRJhEY3aGdi2vlnyfo/s1600/IMG_2917.JPG" height="320" width="179" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Quilt that I Made for my Son</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"></span> <span style="font-family: Calibri;">I was grateful not to have been admitted till now, but I
still had so much to do. I asked to be admitted the next day instead and that
night I had my waxing done, finished off the gifts for my children, properly
packed and finished my unborn son’s nursery. The next day I had my hair done in
the morning and then my mum watched our daughter while we made the trip to the
hospital for my admission. Not much happened the first day I was there but on
the Thursday at 34 weeks + 6 days I was sent for another ultrasound. My fluid
was still about half of what it was meant to be. Elinor spoke with me, as I had
not had any problems with my amniotic fluid until now, she was concerned that
my membranes had ruptured or the placenta had stopped working...both were
dangerous to our baby. It was decided I would deliver the next day either in
the morning or late afternoon, depending on when she could get everyone together.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I called my husband at work and he
immediately went and picked up our daughter from Child Care and came to the
hospital, we both knew this could be our final moments together. I also phoned
the rest of my family to let them know. That day I raced around the hospital
updating my will, getting it printed and signed, as well as finishing off our
birth plan and getting that printed. Our birth plan included details of what I
wanted to happen if I was on life support. We spent the afternoon just being
together. I would be prepared for delivery at 8:30 am the next morning at
exactly 35 weeks gestation. That night one of my closest friends and sisters
came to visit, although unspoken we all knew they were there to say goodbye to
me. I shed a tear as my sister gave me a keepsake pendant and as they all left.
My husband, daughter and I spent the next hour embracing on the hospital bed, I
didn’t want to let my baby girl go. I said my goodbyes. That night I stayed up
till 3:00 am writing letters to my family, outlining funeral details, financial
details and recording video’s for my husband and children. I cried and cried as
I recorded myself singing my daughters favourite nursery rhymes. I slept for 3
hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">My husband and mum arrived at the hospital at 7:15 am.
Numerous doctors and nurses visited my room that morning. I signed numerous
forms giving permission for certain things including the hysterectomy if it
came to that. Doctor Steven Scroggs, the obstetrician helping Elinor Atkinson
deliver our baby, visited my room. Steven told me that the doctors did not want
me to ever get pregnant again if I survived the surgery and did not require a
hysterectomy. Steven asked how I was going to ensure that<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>did not get pregnant, I said I would use
contraception, but Steven was not happy with this, he suggested I have my
fallopian tubes removed which was the only 100 percent effective option. I
asked him to let me think about it for a short time. It was so hard to make
this decision, but my mum begged me to do it “Simone next time you will die”, I
heard the fear in her voice and I knew I could never do this to my family
again. We called Steven back and he got me to sign the consent to remove my
fallopian tubes. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">At approximately 9:00 am I was wheeled around to the
operating theatres, I cried as I said goodbye to my mum but quickly composed
myself. In recovery the anaesthetists put in 3 large IV’s and an arterial line,
I could feel him putting the line in so they began giving me something to calm
my nerves. I become a comedian as I joked about drinking wine after the surgery
and other things. At approximately 10:00 am I was taken to radiology where they
inserted the iliac balloon catheters in my main arteries, my husband had to
wait outside during this time, and the junior anaesthetist, Doctor Jackson Lee,
comforted me as he stroked my face and explained everything that was happening,
answering all my questions every time I felt something. The balloons were in by
11:00 am and I was wheeled to the operating theatre, saying goodbye to my
husband on the way, I took everything in and was able to take notice of the
many people in the theatre. I had come to terms with what was going to happen
and had prepared to the best of my ability for those that I would leave behind.
I had to have absolute trust in my medical team and I did. Knowing all of this
I remained completely calm, the last thing I remember is being told to stop
talking and having the oxygen mask put over my face. While under the general, I
had a central line fitted to my neck and stints put in my urethra by urology. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">It felt like only 10 minutes later that I woke in recovery,
I could not believe I was alive! I chanted “I’m alive, I’m alive”? I cried and
thanked the doctors before asking if I had the Accreta and if I had a hysterectomy,
they confirmed both. It was almost 4:30 pm when I was taken around to the
Intensive Care Unit, and after 5:00 pm when my mum and husband were able to see
me. Seeing them both was amazing. I was extremely sore, drowsy and had no
energy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I knew nothing about my baby,
but was informed by my husband that although intubated the baby was doing okay.
Noah Justin was born at 12:15 pm, more than an hour after I had been put under
the general anaesthetic, weighing 2510 grams, and 49 centimetres long. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
</div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlXBmmXQ9mXY6FMKwdI5XSis8nNWpVHSa4qpRRDMj1JxNF6sDmj9PXWmWrVXRqc_k7AVi2DShTAj3VwejTf09YKsaJ5VcZAQAt0hXh-L-oX10r2eFs6NbQlwQ-D-ehnxBqVdjzjVSExM/s1600/Noah+incubated+in+the+NICU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjwlXBmmXQ9mXY6FMKwdI5XSis8nNWpVHSa4qpRRDMj1JxNF6sDmj9PXWmWrVXRqc_k7AVi2DShTAj3VwejTf09YKsaJ5VcZAQAt0hXh-L-oX10r2eFs6NbQlwQ-D-ehnxBqVdjzjVSExM/s1600/Noah+incubated+in+the+NICU.jpg" height="150" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Baby Noah</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He
was in level one intensive care for 48 hours and intubated for 12 hours due to
being under the general anaesthetic for so long. Noah had an umbilical catheter
as well as various other cords monitoring him. I was able to see photo’s on a
camera and the NICU had printed photos out for me to hang in my ICU room.
Steven Scroggs visited me in the ICU not long after I arrived in there, he
informed me that once he opened me up they found huge blood vessels the size of
his fingers and thumbs riddled through my uterus and cervix. Steven confirmed
it was in fact Increta instead of the suspected Accreta. </span></div>
<div style="text-align: justify;">
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span> </div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifL9N909fGyUPeFUWSZOGjg17ISZX-w2DMin2ZXzcSpoe-_Fl0OxFbdRE0bSK6I5fwTFK08sMW-_vwhF5OixvGZVU7miqZL3es9WUkrEmX8BzZR5Nq0-ZVp3r8P9JVMd4HpcA6DZyVn30/s1600/Dad+and+Noah+in+the+NICU.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEifL9N909fGyUPeFUWSZOGjg17ISZX-w2DMin2ZXzcSpoe-_Fl0OxFbdRE0bSK6I5fwTFK08sMW-_vwhF5OixvGZVU7miqZL3es9WUkrEmX8BzZR5Nq0-ZVp3r8P9JVMd4HpcA6DZyVn30/s1600/Dad+and+Noah+in+the+NICU.jpg" height="200" width="150" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Noah</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">He
was forced to take the vertical incision approximately 10 centimetres above my
belly button, approximately 25 centimetres in total. They slowly and carefully
worked to remove the baby and then my uterus and cervix, the surgery took
approximately 4 and a half hours. During surgery they did require the use of
the iliac balloons and I am very thankful I had them as I lost only 1500 mls of
blood, 800 of which I had cleaned and returned to me via the cell saver
machine. In the evening the ICU doctor removed the catheters from the arteries
in my groin, upon pulling them out several pockets of blood formed, called
Haematomas, these were extremely painful.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">My
night in the ICU went well other than the extreme pain and low blood pressure.
The morning after the surgery the nursing staff helped me to move from my bed
into a cloud chair in preparation to go see my baby for the first time. It was
so very painful but was so worth it to see my gorgeous boy for the first time.
The nurses helped me to hold Noah but I was so tired and in pain so could only
be there for a short time. I was also able to see my husband and daughter for a
short time. </span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLVs9bIkNphPedtK3hdIrXfBUZTSgkovC3n99sMByEzmbL9RS-Dc6jEGlEE3-3uXXgRrqSFycUDC8apF2jo3tfJ6jKfRZqQufiZ_fuqlpOH8RvZuTa0E3GS1y_NtOtjBIZLM0_ug9jc7c/s1600/Meeting+Noah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLVs9bIkNphPedtK3hdIrXfBUZTSgkovC3n99sMByEzmbL9RS-Dc6jEGlEE3-3uXXgRrqSFycUDC8apF2jo3tfJ6jKfRZqQufiZ_fuqlpOH8RvZuTa0E3GS1y_NtOtjBIZLM0_ug9jc7c/s1600/Meeting+Noah.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First time holding my son! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0cm 0cm 10pt;">
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">That afternoon I was moved to the birthing and assessment
suite, although I had already had my baby, I still required a high level of
care and this could not be given on the maternity ward. I remember I kept
saying I was hot in the ICU and this continued in BAS. The nurses began taking
my temperature, I was running a fever and was dozing in and out of
consciousness. They immediately began me on 3 courses of antibiotics and
searched for where an infection might be developing. It was so scary and I had
vision of having to go back to surgery. The next 24 hours was horrible as they
worked to get my fever down. The doctor ordered a chest x-ray to check if there
was fluid on my lungs which could result in heart failure. It was so painful to
sit up and be moved around for the chest x-ray, and thankfully it came back
clear. By Sunday night I was feeling much better. That night I was able to see
my baby again and feed him for the first time and communicate with everyone
that had been trying to get in contact with me or had visited during the last
24 hours.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<span style="font-family: "Calibri","sans-serif"; font-size: 11pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-AU; mso-ascii-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin; mso-hansi-theme-font: minor-latin;">By
Monday morning I was finally able to have the catheter removed as my urine no
longer had blood in it. I was able to get up out of bed and have a shower with
the help of the nurse. In the shower I saw </span><br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnQ3DpNVbZ6nnoLaMSIGmkr1rP-F9xuy4SYqbOQ76fQskuNdnVoqD07e1SKL6C6dvU-u4V_TOnuWnhIg-faFoYnVf1i4-pDwmhUTXwoRjjduMfUplaUxORW_TBlf2EnQaH4mAjrtiR3M/s1600/photo.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZnQ3DpNVbZ6nnoLaMSIGmkr1rP-F9xuy4SYqbOQ76fQskuNdnVoqD07e1SKL6C6dvU-u4V_TOnuWnhIg-faFoYnVf1i4-pDwmhUTXwoRjjduMfUplaUxORW_TBlf2EnQaH4mAjrtiR3M/s1600/photo.JPG" height="200" width="149" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Battle wounds.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">my incision properly and all of the bruising all over my
belly and thighs for the first time. My husband and daughter arrived just in
time to see me up and about ready to move to the maternity ward, hubby was so
relieved to see me up and moving. In the maternity ward I was placed with the
gynaecological patients as I didn’t have my baby with me. I didn’t feel like a
second time mum, particularly because I had to rely on others to take me to
visit my baby. Soon the weight of the whole experience hit me and I began to
grieve the loss of my uterus and cervix. I was still in a lot of pain at the
incision site, and in my groin area where I had bruising and the internal large
haematomas. I also was extremely worried because I no longer had the urge to go
to the toilet, I just had to remind myself to go to the toilet every few hours.
Over the next few days I continued to recover physically and was able to walk
to the NICU myself to see Noah. Noah too was improving, feeding more every day
and getting stronger. Family and friends were able to visit us both and hold
Noah. The Thursday after Noah’s birth we spoke with the NICU doctors and they
told us it was likely Noah would be in the NICU for another 4 weeks until term.
This news was devastating, but we knew Noah had to get stronger. I was
discharged the next day, and to our surprise we were allowed to room in with
Noah in the NICU overnight stay. The plan was to stay for two nights, and
providing Noah put weight on, we would be allowed to go home. We were over the
moon! After just one night, Noah put on a huge amount of weight and the doctors
discharged him. We were finally allowed to go home! At home we settled into
normal life again. Physical recovery was slow but for the first time in over 20
weeks we no longer had to worry about bleeding or being too far away from a
hospital.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbtlQgsLvZJQ0zqdUz9eXLuBskHaD9G3bP2LHY2-uZiCd7uNQxkcWFmeu7z-tXxoxWaGJYyyTeCxEnfKdwBaADhKEdlDxLKEkz9SCZCkRr6RF2bSZiTESgnZFJs4VQQundBbWK792C9I/s1600/Reduced+size+Bell%252C+mum+and+Noah.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFbtlQgsLvZJQ0zqdUz9eXLuBskHaD9G3bP2LHY2-uZiCd7uNQxkcWFmeu7z-tXxoxWaGJYyyTeCxEnfKdwBaADhKEdlDxLKEkz9SCZCkRr6RF2bSZiTESgnZFJs4VQQundBbWK792C9I/s1600/Reduced+size+Bell%252C+mum+and+Noah.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Me and my blessings</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To my surprise pathology results of my placenta and uterus indicated
that I actually had placenta percreta, as the placenta had started bulging
through the uterine muscle, Doctor Steven Scroggs and the doctor at my 8 week
check confirmed this. I have now been given the all clear physically (although
I do still have pain at the incision site), however it was evident to the
doctors that I am suffering some degree of post-traumatic stress disorder. I am
grateful that I had the best outcome possible and I am so thankful to all the
medical staff involved in my case.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz12bnb-wVedmZtMDaQMvdpDEngNstJPGuplJxO6hSb1k-LF-L0IUZ64xouauIF_BDlMRgDIFOR4gBAEGH4VTrnqG-d2E-ho4cDGRRVhb9x9cnmOMnAh4iL675J0mbMbYAnQv-S2rppIk/s1600/Reduced+size+mum+with+Noah.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgz12bnb-wVedmZtMDaQMvdpDEngNstJPGuplJxO6hSb1k-LF-L0IUZ64xouauIF_BDlMRgDIFOR4gBAEGH4VTrnqG-d2E-ho4cDGRRVhb9x9cnmOMnAh4iL675J0mbMbYAnQv-S2rppIk/s1600/Reduced+size+mum+with+Noah.JPG" height="320" width="240" /></a><br />
<span style="font-family: Times New Roman;">
</span></span></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Three months on from the birth of Noah, I was still struggling to feel like his “mum”. Yes I carried him for 35 weeks but I was so disconnected from the pregnancy and the birth that I just feel like I’ve been handed a baby. Something that I really wanted to do this time around was breast
feeding, however due to believing that I would end up on life support, me being
in the ICU and Noah being in the NICU, I asked in my birth plan not to breast
feed him. When we got home I did try to breast feed Noah, however he did not
latch properly and I did not know who to ask for help. I recently decided to try to re-lactate to
breast feed Noah to help me feel more like his mum, to bond with him more and to
see if it will help with his colic. So far I have been able to pump colostrum and milk, Noah is also latching onto the
breast and I am succeeding at re-lactating. Since Noah has been
getting my milk he has been much happier, his colic has disappeared and he is sleeping
through the night. I am also feeling much more like his mum.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZAbCA9hjc27jzaahPSEU3CySZl0BHZjxRtvIqwuL65FnfoAFanURLSR75Hwyby6Xa6rgB2DGfdy3516sW6pAPzjw3kl9iss793T6eaGLQyQh1PFL_hK-o1qbE-Ivukzo1jV3NKNz-nw/s1600/Reduced+size+Bell%252C+Dad+and+Noah.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWZAbCA9hjc27jzaahPSEU3CySZl0BHZjxRtvIqwuL65FnfoAFanURLSR75Hwyby6Xa6rgB2DGfdy3516sW6pAPzjw3kl9iss793T6eaGLQyQh1PFL_hK-o1qbE-Ivukzo1jV3NKNz-nw/s1600/Reduced+size+Bell%252C+Dad+and+Noah.jpg" height="320" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Dad and Bell, helping with Noah's Feed</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><span style="background-color: #f7f7f7; color: #3e454c; font-size: 12px; line-height: 12.28px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br class="Apple-interchange-newline" /><span style="font-size: small;">I am now using my qualification in Health Promotion to raise awareness of the condition and help other women that are diagnosed. My goal is to attend the first International Hope for Accreta Foundation Conference to be held in Tennessee later this year. Please read more about my cause by visiting the link below and donate if possible, every little bit counts.
</span></span><a class="_553k" href="http://www.mycause.com.au/page/simoneshopeforaccreta" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: #f7f7f7; color: #3b5998; cursor: pointer; line-height: 12.28px; padding: 1px 0px; text-decoration: none; white-space: pre-wrap;" target="_blank"><span style="font-size: x-small;">http://www.mycause.com.au/page/simoneshopeforaccreta</span></a> </b></span><br />
<div>
<span style="font-family: Helvetica Neue, Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgILBHpeeC1AM4fzCRjg5jH6Sf5aQRBrSMYxwfxOIVWXy7kEWavtD4645lKpc0o3fISApRI3QHRzrLqxxE4ZScI94SbanyDE9QTBdviG9rA80H7rOqo4X8bK9KT39-ytaEiLmT3w4DAZw0/s1600/Reduced+size+Noah.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgILBHpeeC1AM4fzCRjg5jH6Sf5aQRBrSMYxwfxOIVWXy7kEWavtD4645lKpc0o3fISApRI3QHRzrLqxxE4ZScI94SbanyDE9QTBdviG9rA80H7rOqo4X8bK9KT39-ytaEiLmT3w4DAZw0/s1600/Reduced+size+Noah.JPG" height="425" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My Adorable little man! </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div>
<o:p> </o:p><b><span style="font-size: 12pt; line-height: 18.39px;">By Simone Pavils</span></b></div>
</div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecMisDExmgHgFOrK67sTx7dICiBiEUZGC2wXS9P97czbyxhXdW_Bca4CSnG955X4WuJDzU9L0R1igxItx-b9cvnlWfrfp4jxzliIE-dCx8NI9PLwRDHgEkhV9UoWeaZeX8Mbnz2hsI6o/s1600/Alex+2012+January+024.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjecMisDExmgHgFOrK67sTx7dICiBiEUZGC2wXS9P97czbyxhXdW_Bca4CSnG955X4WuJDzU9L0R1igxItx-b9cvnlWfrfp4jxzliIE-dCx8NI9PLwRDHgEkhV9UoWeaZeX8Mbnz2hsI6o/s1600/Alex+2012+January+024.jpg" height="300" width="400" /></a></div>
<div class="p1">
My accreta and NICU journey began when I fell pregnant again within 3 months of giving birth to my second son. I still dreamed of having a v-bac, natural, drug-free birth experience. I decided to go to a different hospital this time, one further away, but with an excellent midwifery program. We found out I was expecting another son at the first 9 week ultrasound. I joked that we would try for a girl the next time. Everything was fine, I had minimal morning sickness and no other problems. I had an ultrasound at 20 weeks and was asked to come back to get better scans of the baby’s heart as he would not turn around and the pictures were unclear. I went back at 23 weeks for another check-up. In my examination with the midwife and doctor, the doctor was concerned that she could feel the baby very clearly through my tummy. It was found that I had no amniotic fluid around the baby when they did an ultrasound, and furthermore that I also had placenta previa. The doctor told me that it was highly likely I would lose the pregnancy or that my baby would be severely disabled due to the lack of fluid surrounding him. The doctor’s advice was that I should have a medically determined termination of this pregnancy. I went through all the guilt of perhaps it was my fault for falling pregnant again so soon after having KJ, but was told that the condition was nothing to do with the timing of the pregnancy. I was sent to RHH, a hospital over 3 hours drive from where I lived to have further investigations with more experienced technicians with better equipment. It was discovered that on top of the lack of fluid and placenta previa, I also had placenta percreta, a condition where the placenta invades out of the uterus. It is particularly dangerous as it can invade other organs like the bladder, bowel and kidneys. I was told that my accreta was caused by my c-sections rather than the pregnancies being close together. On further tests, I also had gestational diabetes. I was told I had to stay at this hospital on bed-rest and not allowed to leave the ward as there was too much risk of me having a hemorrhage. They were unable to find the reason for the amniotic fluid loss, despite an MRI scan.</div>
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I spent 4 weeks in hospital, 350km away from my family, with my 5 month old son having to be cared for by my partner and my 6 year old son being looked after by his father. I saw them once a week when they managed to drive over and stay at RHM or one of the other charitable houses, for a few days.</div>
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I was petrified this time. There was no alternative but to have another operation. This time the operation would be much more serious. There was no chance of keeping my uterus, as the placenta percreta would leave it destroyed. It would have to be removed when I had the c-section to deliver my third son. It was explained to me that my third son had very little chance of survival, without severe abnormalities as he would no doubt be born extremely premature. If he survived the delivery, he would likely have muscular contractures due to the lack of amniotic fluid and his prematurity would present other issues like heart problems, lung developmental problems, brain damage, cerebral palsy, bowel developmental problems, immune development problems, and all the associated issues of a long term stay in a hospital. Many babies develop terrible conditions as their prematurity does not allow them to fight infections. A humidicrib is the only alternative to the womb, but it is not a substitute. My job would be to get as far along in the pregnancy as possible without endangering my own life. I was advised to have a termination on numerous occasions by every doctor and specialist I saw. My partner said he wanted me to have a termination as he did not want to have a child with severe abnormalities.</div>
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Every day I was approached by doctors giving me the worst case scenario. Even so, I was optimistic and determined. I had decided to have my little boy no matter what. I knew his name. I could feel him inside me, I felt connected to him. I wanted this little boy more than anything. It would be my last pregnancy, as I had been told that even if I terminated this pregnancy it would not be safe for me to have another. I said I most definitely did not want to have a termination. I decided to be as informed as possible. I had a tour of NICU, so I would know what to expect and it would not be such a shock when it was my baby in the humidicrib. I watched DVDs about premature babies and what was involved with their care. I found prem baby websites and read the stories posted by the parents of prems. I had weekly ultrasounds and noted the weight progress of the little one inside me. I knew from reading everything I could that the bigger the baby was at birth the more likely it would survive. For the first week, I had a cannula put in my arm or hand every few days. It was flushed every 6 hours. When my veins collapsed from over-use, and even the expert anaesthetists couldn’t find veins on me anywhere, my arms and legs covered in bruises, I had a procedure to put a Hickman’s Line in. This is a large drip line that goes directly into one’s heart and can transfuse a large amount of blood in a short amount of time. This was in case I hemorrhaged or needed blood during the operation. A c-section –hysterectomy is a complicated operation and I would have to be under a General anaesthetic. I would not be awake to see my baby come into the world.</div>
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I had steroid injections to help my baby’s lungs develop, these injections made me hyperactive and I couldn’t sleep for the entire night whenever I was given them. I had insulin injections before every meal, in ever increasing dosages. I put up with a month of hospital food and begged my mother to send me some care packages with home cooked meals. Her home cooking and the visits from my partner and kids saved my sanity. Visits from other relatives and friends also saved me from the boredom of bed rest. I made friends with some of the nurses. I avoided other nurses who were inherently cruel. I made lists of the doctors, anaesthetists, specialists and nurses who were constant visitors to my bedside. I wrote about some of my experiences. I wrote a Will, just in case. I waited.</div>
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One morning I got out of bed to go to the toilet and felt a rush of fluid. It was pinkish amniotic fluid. Everyone was now on alert, as they didn’t want me to start having contractions. I was 26 + 6 days gestation. Things settled down and I was constantly monitored. When I was 27 weeks gestation, I started having contractions. I was given medication to make them stop, which gave me severe headaches. I had the medication 3 times over the next couple days. I was then informed on the morning of the 24<span class="s1"><sup>th</sup></span> November that the team had decided that I should have the operation that day. I was to be prepped by firstly having a procedure to put balloon catheters on my kidneys to help prevent blood loss during the operation to remove my uterus. This procedure involved putting tiny wires in through my nerves, which was very painful and uncomfortable. Not the least part of my discomfort was the masses of med students interested in the procedure, where the wires were put in through my groin. One gives up all sense of modesty and privacy when in hospital. The other aspect of discomfort was how much it hurt. It felt like someone was stabbing me with long knitting needles in various parts of my body. I also had the sensation that I was urinating constantly. Quite uncomfortable, with lingering problems of nerve pain in my left leg over a year later, which fortunately eventually resolved with many visits to my chiropractor.</div>
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Then I was taken into surgery, where all manner of machines were ready and waiting, including a machine that would recycle all the blood I lost from surgery back into my body after filtering it. The humidicrib was ready and waiting too, along with the team from NICU who would care for my baby.</div>
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After a few attempts to get another needle into my hand to monitor my blood pressure, I told the nurse to do it after I was under anaesthetic as her attempts were too painful. Then they gave me the anaesthetic and I knew no more until I woke up in recovery.</div>
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I was told that the placenta had begun to invade my bladder and that a section had been removed and repaired. I had tubes coming out of me everywhere, two drainage tubes in my stomach, a urinary catheter, and of course the Hickmans Line still in my heart, where it would remain for another week in case I had an embolism. Apparently I had only lost 2 litres of blood during the operation and the Cell Saver had worked very well, they were all very pleased. I had a horizontal scar, the bikini line one, rather than the vertical one they’d told me to expect.</div>
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I wasn’t allowed to see my baby Alexander that day despite repeated asking. I was assured by my partner and the nurses that he was alive and doing as well as could be expected. The journey with Alex began the next day when I was allowed to see him, wheeled in on my hospital bed next to his humidicrib. He was so tiny, covered in tubes and wires. I didn’t even know where his head was. His skin was translucent, I could see veins and the outlines of his tiny bones. He was so fragile. I was optimistic however as he’d been born a good weight for a prem, nearly a kilo. We were allowed to touch him, just to put our hands over him. My hand and my boyfriend’s hand covered him completely. We were not allowed to stroke him, as that would stimulate his skin too much. It was a different world to have a tiny prem baby. I had to unlearn everything I knew about my previous two babies and learn how to do it the prem-mum way. It was ten days before I had my first kanga-cuddle with Alex. It was skin to skin and then blankets tucked over us to keep his body temperature up. I had to sit right up next to his humidicrib as the wires and cords had to stay attached to monitor his breathing and heart-rate. When a prem gets too relaxed lying on their mum’s chest they can stop breathing. It is a steep and fast learning curve. You get to know the beeps, alarms and whistles very quickly. You even stop freaking out when the alarm for bub’s breathing goes off, or when his heart-rate drops…. You learn to pat him on the back gently and wait for the machine to register his heart-rate again. You learn to read his nurse notes, the medical data that shows his blood-work results. You celebrate when his TPN goes up by 2ml per hour. You celebrate again when he graduates to being tube fed your expressed breast-milk. You cry when he has to go on the machine to “vibrate oxygen into his lungs” because you’ve read that only a handful of babies survive this machine. You cry with relief when the doctors do scans and tell you the hole in his heart has closed. You cry with relief when he has a brain scan that comes back normal. You cry when he has to have a blood transfusion and you see a huge needle in a tiny arm. You cry when he has his eyes tested and the results are that his vision is not yet affected by the oxygen that he has to be given to stay alive. You celebrate when he goes off having so much oxygen. You celebrate each weight gain and lament each weight loss. Each small milestone is celebrated. They are huge steps for one so small.</div>
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Alex is now 2 years and 3 months old as I write this. He walked at 16 months old. He talked clearly at 18 months old. When he said Mama, my heart melted. He is a completely normal little boy. He has temper tantrums. He gives me hugs. He is susceptible to lung problems and gets croup often, and we deal with it.</div>
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As for me, my body has healed as best it can. There are issues of course. You can’t go through trauma like that and not have issues. Alex still sleeps in the same room with me, or I can’t sleep. I wake up if his breathing changes as I have become very highly attuned to his patterns. I have no uterus or cervix anymore. In some ways I miss having periods as it is something that marks you as a woman to have them. It was something that helped me keep in tune with the rhythm of life, the seasons and the tides, having my moon-times. I can never have more children and that is a loss I have to deal with. I’d always wanted to have a girl and that will never happen now. And yes, I have 3 beautiful children that I am grateful for. And yes, it is still hard to give up the dream of my little girl that I will never have. There are many emotional issues, with c-sections and with accreta. Feelings that I’d let my baby down because my body did not work properly. Feelings of anger that I’d been badgered into having an unnecessary c-section with my first pregnancy that led to the accreta with this pregnancy. There are not many women who have been through this, although due to the increase in c-section deliveries the number of women who get accreta will also increase. The emotional and physical toll is heavy and needs to be documented and researched, and I feel very strongly about this. It’s not just about having the operation, it’s also about what happens afterwards, the emotional turmoil of being in NICU, away from home, away from family and support networks, about the toll that long hospital stays can take on relationships, many of which break down due to the stress of the events, mine included.</div>
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The healing journey is much longer than the accreta and NICU journey. It’s all about being gentle with myself, crying when I have to, and feeling what I do and being honest about it.</div>
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It’s confusing because I’m angry and sad and grateful to be alive, all at the same time. I had accreta. I have a beautiful little boy who is worth all that I went through and I would do it all again for him.</div>
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I’m lucky. I’m strong. I’m a survivor! </div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-27001152959603119472014-04-15T03:12:00.002-07:002014-04-15T04:01:48.412-07:00Felicity's story - Placenta Previa and Accreta. <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4j_vPEkuGF2Q12CTiGO1i7OU5ZpSWMJ_ewIgEpy48pc20sgRkWvm6VqwpD6jhglhzFk933ET65WxeI7HFXqF-V9IxFOCmtUVnCmGBOApnNwKWuG1NgjxJqY11hhYk1BpPF83PLfk8Hio/s1600/10006622_10152048317638017_4843154169390775371_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4j_vPEkuGF2Q12CTiGO1i7OU5ZpSWMJ_ewIgEpy48pc20sgRkWvm6VqwpD6jhglhzFk933ET65WxeI7HFXqF-V9IxFOCmtUVnCmGBOApnNwKWuG1NgjxJqY11hhYk1BpPF83PLfk8Hio/s1600/10006622_10152048317638017_4843154169390775371_n.jpg" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harry and Felicity</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">A little bit about me first. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I live in Perth WA and have 4
children all c-sec, (15, 9 & 7) and the youngest Harry (2) is my Placenta Previa & Accreta child.
I have also had two early miscarriages before Harry.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was 31 when at my 12 week
scan I was diagnosed with a low lying anterior placenta and possible placenta
Previa. My GP advised that until my next scan at 16 weeks I was to be placed on
pelvic rest. This would not have been an issue except that after 10 years we
were to get married smack bang in the middle when I was 13 weeks. So needless
to say this did no go down well. Wedding went ahead and was perfect with a
wonderful week down in Yallingup hiking along the coast to coast track (oops).
At my 16 week scan nothing had changed and my doctor referred me to Kaleeya for
my ante natal care. The midwife told me that she had never advised someone with
a low lying placenta to avoid sex so away we went, happy with that outcome. </span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKzzgCQhTuZZaHffNfNh_P426NMB74n_SjBaykh1Jr7bQXEtSoukRzPfna2EppOJDP-3zQI09DnvQmKgoPir6o6W-aXKvpqHkAi_ivFaJsCKeHRaKOV7KkqwsVv2wR1K9ixvmMBzpL-KM/s1600/10177496_10152048534163017_5474481237575327157_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhKzzgCQhTuZZaHffNfNh_P426NMB74n_SjBaykh1Jr7bQXEtSoukRzPfna2EppOJDP-3zQI09DnvQmKgoPir6o6W-aXKvpqHkAi_ivFaJsCKeHRaKOV7KkqwsVv2wR1K9ixvmMBzpL-KM/s1600/10177496_10152048534163017_5474481237575327157_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Our Wedding</td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Time for the 20 week scan where we were advised that we were expecting a little
boy – of course I thought, after 3 girls it was going to be the boy causing
trouble. After my now husband left I had my first internal ultrasound. No
surprises there it was definitely complete placenta Previa. Still no mention of
accreta. I went home and googled trying to find out what this placenta Previa
was that I was getting little information on. A lot of horror stories came up
and I began to get worried. My following appointments and more ultrasounds kept
confirming PP and I was still not getting many answers, It was either that no
–one had minimal if any at all experience<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>or they just would not tell. All I got was a cheap drawing of the
placenta covering the cervix. It was at my 32 week scan when I was actually
told a few things by the radiologist because I asked. I know they should not
tell but no-one else would. I asked about accreta and he advised that my uterus
was so thin it was like a clear window and that I should make this my last
pregnancy. He could not tell if my placenta invaded my uterus as it was to
close to tell. Accreta was now a potential issue as well. After that scan I was
transferred to King Edward Memorial Hospital for my prenatal care. It was here
that the possibility of a hysterectomy was advised and everything become very
real. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">I was booked in for C-section
6<sup>th</sup> Feb 2012 at 37+4 and an appointment was made for me to see the
anaesthetist 1st Feb. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">On January 30<sup>th</sup> I
was taken out for lunch by my friends and eldest daughter and had a great mini-
baby shower. I came home and decided some last minute vacuuming was in order.
The kids were starting the school term the next week and I would soon be in
hospital. I needed to get things organised.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: small;">That night at 4am I woke up
feeling wet. I turned on the light and noticed that I was bleeding. All I could
think was what I have done... This is it. I have not been taking it easy and
now this is pay back. I rang my husband who was at work to come home and KEMH
who advised me to come it right away. The bleeding stopped on the way thank
goodness and would have only have been 70ml or so but I was admitted and there
I was to stay for the 7 days until my section. This was a horrible week. I
missed my daughters first day at Pre- Primary and the whole first week of
school. I was bored, put on bed rest for the first few days and had a bunt put
in case emergency surgery was needed. I had no more bleeds whilst in hospital
that week. The nurses were checking me every day to see if I had any
contractions, I had ultrasounds every second day and I was allowed to leave the
premises to go to the close park with my children and husband on the weekend. I
was provided with an emergency beeper if I should bleed. My appointment with
the </span>anaesthetist <span style="font-size: small;">was very overwhelming. I cried and was in shock.</span><span style="font-size: 12pt;"> </span><span style="font-size: small;">It was comforting to know that they were all
experienced with this kind of surgery and that they would try to save my uterus
and a hysterectomy would be a last resort. He told me it was natural to be
scared but things would be ok. I signed the hysterectomy consent<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">The night before my scheduled
section I didn’t sleep. The next morning I was taken down to pre-op where I was
given a spinal block ( my request) and so may bungs and drips placed in my
arms. There was no central line but one in each wrist, the back of my hand and
the inside of each elbow. This was the worst feeling, the anticipation of what
could possibly come next. I was so scared.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">In the operating theatre the
first thing I noticed was how many people was there. There would have been at
least 20 with all the nurses, specialists and residents, I felt like I was on display
in a zoo. I looked to my right and there was the blood recycling unit. To my
left was my new best friend the anesthetist. I had experienced a C-section 3
times before so I knew what to expect. After about 15 minutes I was asked if I
wanted to see my son born. I regretfully declined but moments later I heard his
cry and finally got to see my little trouble maker. He was taken away for
cleaning and my surgery continued they were going to try to save my uterus.
After another 20 minutes the surgeon learned over and said “I cannot remove the
placenta I will have to do a hysterectomy” I was prepared for this and at this
stage I didn’t care anymore. My son was born and appeared healthy. I accepted
the anesthetist offer of a general anaethetic and that was it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGQ7lCJ9NsyC_2MjzCrSeMXmeP8Q20IMERqoPaG9bvWx9zomjf95BIiyvCgiI624sExTE4nfR6k3DZY3utzOv3TAPRrpxEXB8AuKQmI3nNfK8BuWleatgVLeyVQ0Pglua2WDca6AQyIw/s1600/1560573_10152048276098017_1040429575002086100_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUGQ7lCJ9NsyC_2MjzCrSeMXmeP8Q20IMERqoPaG9bvWx9zomjf95BIiyvCgiI624sExTE4nfR6k3DZY3utzOv3TAPRrpxEXB8AuKQmI3nNfK8BuWleatgVLeyVQ0Pglua2WDca6AQyIw/s1600/1560573_10152048276098017_1040429575002086100_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12pt;">I woke up hours later in the
high dependency unit. I was advised that along with the hysterectomy I had my
cervix, both fallopian tubes and one ovary removed. I also had a 4cm hole in my
bladder from surgery and lost 2000mls and was given 300mls back via a cell saver. My son was in NICU as he
had some breathing issues (due to his small size 5.6lb) and as I was being
prepared to go see him, he was brought down to me. Harry was fine and I was so
relived. I finally got to hold him. With all the cords and bungs it was very
difficult but I was so happy. In the HD unit I had some cold toast and jam
(Yuck) and was given an iron drip due to blood loss. This can have some side
effects but I did not notice any. My husband finally got to come in and by the
look on his face you tell he was emotionally drained. He told me that the
surgery went for four hours and that he was continuously updated on the
progress. Poor love. I was transferred back to the ward that evening where I
had the first chance for some sleep.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfB0aLnMzKRM7tMyvOw5oJ4UC75LIvL7nJwH-ZM3yy_GlXfj1CKdDbXHnhlu7PzKfUepGLfraJaPypaqjUjed90EuQPrKGMeLTJk3irAfNKuvxs_LsjOmqOY3KrC-2_nORFlipM-ihLCU/s1600/1535515_10152048280538017_3116301522352848111_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfB0aLnMzKRM7tMyvOw5oJ4UC75LIvL7nJwH-ZM3yy_GlXfj1CKdDbXHnhlu7PzKfUepGLfraJaPypaqjUjed90EuQPrKGMeLTJk3irAfNKuvxs_LsjOmqOY3KrC-2_nORFlipM-ihLCU/s1600/1535515_10152048280538017_3116301522352848111_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">For the first few feeds my
colostrum was obtained by syringe. I was then put on the pump to try to get the
breast milk flowing. My son was doing well and I was trying the best I could. I
was exhausted.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was day three when I
decided that I needed to get out of bed. OMG was that the worst thing I have
ever tried to do, so I thought until I tried to go to the bathroom. After
numerous attempts and laxatives we had success. I was now allowed real food.
That week was terrible. I wanted to go home, but I had no idea how I would cope
as I was so sore and my husband only had another week off work. Finally on the
13<sup>th</sup> I was allowed home. I had my staples removed however I needed
to keep in my catheter for another 4 days so I would be back to have this
removed later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">Things slowly improved at
home. My son was thriving and I was getting physically better every day. There
were days where I would over do it and pay for it in the following days however
my body was healing and I was getting stronger. Emotionally I was a mess. I was
fine for the first month but then I became numb to the world. My Husband didn’t
matter to me anymore and my other children took a back seat. I didn’t realise
at the time how low I was. I was crying all the time and didn’t want to be with
anyone other than Harry. The child health nurse referred me to the Fremantle
Hospital psychologist department but by the time they called and offered me an
appointment we couldn’t afford it. It was about this time that I found the
original Placenta Previa group on Facebook. I decided to join and suddenly
there were people who had been through what I had. I befriended a few people in
this group who even through they don’t realise it helped my get through that
tough time. They had problems with there relationships too and I decided to bit
the bullet as they say and make my self be present in my families life. I
realised that everyone had issues being intimate with there partners. Part of
this was unattachement and also the physical pain and subconscious memories of
surgery. It took quite a long time for the healing to progress to a stage where
I was comfortable to talk about what had happened and to accept things for how
they are now. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFLAOWRJMC4raLMpB9PGkryXRPBaKZEAcoTBG2rKQQ35lSfc0fiGs1VlIKDgbdApvxZDAcQwSSgNX1DyapW6PW_E8mhELqnw6_aSHUEawTCsZu2DC6PZ2jc-afowjdSJwX3dHN1q2zMjU/s1600/1977477_10152048276048017_9121785961780857377_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFLAOWRJMC4raLMpB9PGkryXRPBaKZEAcoTBG2rKQQ35lSfc0fiGs1VlIKDgbdApvxZDAcQwSSgNX1DyapW6PW_E8mhELqnw6_aSHUEawTCsZu2DC6PZ2jc-afowjdSJwX3dHN1q2zMjU/s1600/1977477_10152048276048017_9121785961780857377_n.jpg" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Harry now </td></tr>
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<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 12.0pt;">My pregnancy was quite easy
compared to some. I worked full time up until 36 weeks, and continued to marshal
the children’s little athletics events. I don’t think I ever really thought
that I would have a major bleed. Even though my surgery was straight forward,
recovery was hard and it was a tough emotional journey for everyone involved. I
decided that when Harry turned one I would book myself in for my first blood
donation ever. I have since paid back my 4 units and now donate plasma every
month. I also contacted the hospital and obtained my surgery records. I have
only read them once but every now and them I am tempted to have another read. I
never do but just knowing they're there and are based on fact not emotions is a
good thing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-82201723529949541912014-04-03T01:15:00.003-07:002017-06-05T02:07:37.849-07:00Christina's Story of Placenta Previa and undiagnosed precreta<div class="p1">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">From time to time things happen in our lifetimes that test our faith. This is the story of an experience that tested mine that resulted in another glorious blessing to our family.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybjeHkMFuyuBF8g0W7rUb0SO4ij0qoaSZpFarZerv6QL8NWMRofnQI32HPHk4lELRwYKlMxDA0G9ml-1rt0EspQ2ML5l4oz-Bvnqe6UoM_KBG-Xj8sgLaxznDMVk5LkJMuEH8lWpTuyA/s1600/3477_519181084766734_287085104_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="199" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgybjeHkMFuyuBF8g0W7rUb0SO4ij0qoaSZpFarZerv6QL8NWMRofnQI32HPHk4lELRwYKlMxDA0G9ml-1rt0EspQ2ML5l4oz-Bvnqe6UoM_KBG-Xj8sgLaxznDMVk5LkJMuEH8lWpTuyA/s1600/3477_519181084766734_287085104_n.jpg" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Family Photo, 6 weeks pregnant.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">My Journey started at 7 weeks on one of my daughters birthday. I experienced my first bleed and loss of clots, one the size of a big lemon. I was standing in my kitchen, chatting away to my 2 year old son while making him breakfast. Feeling very happy with my lot, I was pregnant with our 7th baby, and very happy to be so. Then all of a sudden I felt a gush. At first I thought that I had wet myself, not something I had done before, but I had heard that sometimes these things happen to pregnant women. So I went to the toilet to check. That is when I discovered I was bleeding, I remember saying “oh no!” my husband in the other room heard the emotion in my voice, </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s2">“</span><span class="s1">What? What's wrong?”, </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s2">“</span><span class="s1">I'm bleeding, I'm losing our baby.” </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">He brought me some clean underwear and pads. I cleaned myself up the best I could, and then went back downstairs. A few minutes later a large clot fell out and I ran back to the toilet. I could see something in the clot, it was heartbreaking. There was no way I was going to put this in the toilet and flush. Suspecting it was my baby my husband took it into the backyard and buried it. We later found out that we had lost one of our twins.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Because it was my daughter’s birthday my husband and I took our children to MacDonald's for breakfast for a birthday treat. We knew that we would probably spend the rest of the day at the hospital and wanted to at least make some of the day special for her. I assumed that I had miscarried our baby, but because I was O neg, I needed to go to the hospital and have an Anti-D injection, just in case. By the time we got to the hospital the bleeding had slowed to a light period. The doctor took some blood to test, and we waited a while for the results to come back, when they finally did, the doctor was very surprised at how high my HCG levels were. She explained that they were really high for a normal pregnancy, let alone someone that was having a miscarriage, so they booked me in for Ultrasound the following week.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">The next few days seemed like a whirlwind. I thought I had miscarried and I didn't know if I was still pregnant or not. During the ultrasound the technician discovered a live baby and a pool of blood, a sub-chronic haemorrhage, and a space where she explained looked like another egg had implanted. My placenta was very low. She also asked me heaps of questions about my c-section scar. At the time I didn't know why she was asking me those questions (but now looking back, I do). With so many mixed feels, losing a baby, still carrying a baby and not sure what was going to happen next, it was a challenge to deal with. We have some very unsupportive people in our lives when it comes to us having children, so at that point we had only chose to tell close friends that we were expecting, since it is difficult to say with complicated, potentially dangerous pregnancies "I might be expecting, and I'm not sure if we will have a live baby at the end of this journey”. I remember clearly wanting to tell people that we were having another blessing, but then at the same time I didn't want to turn around that tell these same people who didn't want us to have a baby to start with, that we actually lost it. I remember Christmas day very clearly, I was 11 weeks pregnant and having to get through the whole thing pretending that everything was ok, putting on the ‘happy christmas’ face, (not sharing we were pregnant, as to not ruin anyone’s christmas) but at the same time, bleeding and having to keep it to myself. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">I then went on to have about another ten bleeds. With each bleed I would have to go up to the hospital to check that I still had a live baby on board, and so until I got to the point where I could feel baby moving, it was really quite stressful. People would see me at the hospital and ask why I was there, it was never a happy answer, until 22 weeks at which point the fresh bleeding stopped. I had brown, old bleeding the whole time, there wasn't a day since it started that I didn't have to wear a pad. I think during this pregnancy I used more feminine hygiene products than in my whole reproductive life!</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Just when I thought things where settling down at 22 weeks I was diagnosed Gestational Diabetes and required insulin to help keep it under control, that meant for me that I needed to test my blood sugars 6 times a day before and after eating and then injecting myself with fast and slow acting insulin 5 times a day. I really felt like a pin cushion and had bruises all over my stomach for it! From the results of my 7 week ultrasound I was put on pelvic rest, and told I had a low lying placenta and it wasn't until the 20 week scan that it was confirmed that I had placenta previa. At this point my placenta was only a marginal previa, sitting very close to my cervix but not directly over it. My doctors encouraged me by saying that most previa's do end up moving up and out of the way. We would just have to wait and see what mine would do.</span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmz0yTruY8qqcxQxZzzr67ariD2M6Ecc5Xx8LM3Lsl4YUscUWfHkMCuXKSjkOum5WxjQxzxKPPec4ZouHHi9GlL749BXLOJYc8TKJABuSewGsidhUokCu0-bhHXlsYP_wC3u_oJONmhw/s1600/558103_571208376230671_1152444088_n+%25281%2529.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiZmz0yTruY8qqcxQxZzzr67ariD2M6Ecc5Xx8LM3Lsl4YUscUWfHkMCuXKSjkOum5WxjQxzxKPPec4ZouHHi9GlL749BXLOJYc8TKJABuSewGsidhUokCu0-bhHXlsYP_wC3u_oJONmhw/s1600/558103_571208376230671_1152444088_n+%25281%2529.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">19 + 2 weeks.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">I was lucky I had a friend that had recently gone through the same thing; she had 7 weeks hospital bedrest, and then a c-section. So I asked her so many questions- I think in the early weeks there was hardly a day that I didn't send her a question. With 6 children at home, I wanted to prepare my family in the event that I would have a long hospital stay. I thankfully also found a facebook group for placenta previa and accreta.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">To help me cope with all the stress I set myself goals to help me get through. My first was to make it to viability: 24 weeks, then 28 weeks, but my big goal was to make to 32 weeks, because that meant all being well with baby I wouldn't have to go to Hobart which was 3 hour drive away, and I wouldn't be able to see my family and they wouldn't be able to see me until it was time to go home. My husband can't drive, and we didn't have a vehicle that would make it possible to be able to make that drive, so I would be on my own for delivery and everything else. I was so thankful when that day came and passed. Also to help keep my friends and family up to date on what was happening, I set up a facebook group for my pregnancy and my baby. I used it many times during my pregnancy to ask for prayer for particular issues, and keep people informed about what we were facing.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Here is my first post for that group.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">'Welcome to the group! I'm currently 32 +5 weeks pregnancy with another blessing. From my last ultra sound (a week ago) I have grade 4 placenta previa, with the placenta over my old c-section scars, which means there is a possibility of having placenta accreta. Our baby has also been diagnosed with a clubbed left foot, which we won't know the degree of until birth. I'm booked in for a c-section on 25 of June, which will make me 37 weeks, as long as I don't have bleeding before that. Otherwise delivery could be any day'.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">The time between my 20 week scan and that 32 week scan seemed to take forever to come. I was hoping for good news. Earlier in my pregnancy, my doctors where happy that if my placenta moved they would support me through a VBA2C's and I was really hoping to do that. After all, I wanted to be able to have more children and I knew each c-section I had would affect my ability to have more babies. As the time progressed the placenta didn't move, and at my 32 week scan my placenta actually settled more into a complete placenta previa, and totally covering my cervix. At this point I started to ask if accreta was something that I would need to worry about. When speaking with one of my doctors, she didn't seem to think that I would have accreta because the U/S report sounded like that placenta was more to the back and side, and only just covering my scar. However I would have another scan at 36 weeks to give it one more check over before my scheduled c-section are 37 weeks. They wanted to deliver a little early to try and avoid any problems associated with early labour disturbing the placenta and creating an emergency situation.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Also at my 32 week scan the technician saw that it looked like my baby had a clubbed foot, but was unsure of the extent and the treatment that might be needed until delivery. The technician said my baby was sitting in breech position with her feet right up near her head. Because the placenta was sitting over the cervix she had no room to turn around into the head-first position. I was also told from this point on I wasn't to leave the area in case I had a bleed, since if I did have a bleed I would need to call an ambulance and get to the hospital as quickly as I could! In many ways this new was kind of a relief. It validated all the stress and worry that I was going through, and said “yes is this a serious condition”, which I knew already, but found hard to express to other how serious it was. We rarely see reports of losing women in child birth anymore, so there is this kind of myth that no one dies like that any more. It was also around this time that I saw a post on Facebook of a mother that died during the delivery of her 6th baby. She had developed accrete, which brought it home even more for me. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">At my next scan at 36 weeks, the ultrasound tech suggested that my placenta might be over the scar, suggesting that there might be a possibility that ‘I had developed accreta’, but as it is a rare condition they didn't think it would be very likely, however they booked out the OR for the day just in case when they got inside they discovered that it was accreta. At this scan the doctors also found that my baby was now lying in transverse breech, just to add another thing to this ever increasing list of complications! What else could go wrong…. I was about to find out. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">At 36 weeks and a few days I was sitting at home with my children crocheting when I felt a gush. I had a split second of dread and I immediately knew what it was. I had just been experiencing some Braxton Hicks for about 20 mins beforehand. I ran to the toilet to discover blood pouring out, I was home alone with my 6 children. I immediately called out to my children to get me the phone, which they did really quickly. I call the ambos straight away, and face book messaged my husband and a friend to come. (At this point I didn't have a mobile phone).</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">My message went like this......</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b>Christina</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Help.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Help.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b>Ben Mathewson</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">What?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b>Christina Mathewson</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Come</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Home now</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b>Ben Mathewson</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Do you need me home now?</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Ok.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b>Christina Mathewson</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Now Bleeding</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b>Ben Mathewson</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Coming</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><b>Ben Mathewson</b></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Im nearly there</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Have you called anyone? “</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">One of my children ran next door and got help from the neighbour. The Ambo's arrived within 10 minutes, put in a drip and rushed me to the hospital, blood was still pouring out. Just as they were getting me into the Ambulance my husband arrived, I told him which bag to grab, and then I was off. Just as we were pulling out my friend arrived to take care of the children. Our neighbour was kind enough to drive Ben to the hospital. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s2"> </span><span class="s1">On the way to the hospital contractions started, I remember telling the paramedic with me that my baby was in breech, and if the placenta started coming to just reach in, grab my babies feet and pull her out!, I think the guy was bit panicked by that and told the driver to go faster. On the way they called the hospital and they prepped an OR for my arrival. I was rushed straight into theatre. Ben arrived at the hospital just as they were wheeling me into the theatre and they gave him a few seconds to say goodbye. During the pregnancy I knew there was a possibility that I might not come out of this alive, so I had told my husband a few times what my wishes were if I didn't make it through, and this was the moment where those conversations suddenly became much more real. We didn't have time to say everything that we needed to say. So ‘goodbye and good luck’ was all we had time for!</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">There were so many people in the theatre and it was go, go, go. Everyone had a role and got on with it as quickly as they could. I tried to remain as calm as I could, while people where putting needles into me and asking me questions. The midwife got the doppler out and tried to find my babies heart beat. She couldn't find it. I had a quick thought, and told her my baby was in breech, and which point she moved the doppler and was able to find her heart beat, the whole room breathe again. People were rushing all over the place- one doctor was asking me questions, while another started waxing me, another did a speculum. It was all systems go! At this point I knew I was probably having a hysterectomy. The last thing I knew I was asking the date so that I would know when my baby was born. Little did I know at that point that actually being able to see my baby was critically uncertain.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Due to the fact that I had eaten recently that day, they had to prevent the food in my stomach coming back up and choking me, so when they put the general anaesthetic over my face, and the nurse had to put her hand over my neck while I went to sleep. I had the feeling of being strangled, I knew the only way to get out of the feeling was to breathe as deeply as I could, and get to sleep faster. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Then all the action happened. Marcella was born shortly after putting me out, she had an apgar of 4, but shortly picked up and moved to recovery in the NICU. Marcella Daphne Providence was born into the world 7 pounds, without sign of club foot, and perfect in every way, entirely unaware as babies are of the chaos around her. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">After about 5 hours of waiting my husband posted this under my name. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">'please keep praying for Christina. She is in hospital now. More news to come soon. (Ben)</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Then work began on me- to save my life. My first operation took 9 hours. Once Marcella was out they discovered that I did indeed have accreta, but I was bleeding so much it was hard for them to see where the placenta ended and the rest of me started. They only had their hands to help guide them, feeling and grabbing what they could. They closed me up and sent me to the Intensive Care Unit. In the ICU the doctors were concerned because my haemoglobin levels keep dropping, which meant I was still bleeding internally.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s2"> </span><span class="s1">At this point it was around 1am and they decided they needed to take me back to theatre. The hospital tried to get a hold of my husband to let him know what was going on. At the time our phone started to have issues, and we were missing lots of calls. In the end the police were sent to my house to give him a message that he needed to call. He was in a deep sleep after finally getting all our children into bed for the night. He woke with a startle to find a policeman standing at the end of our bed firmly grabbing his foot to get his attention. My husband later told me the interaction went something like this: </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">'Sir, SIR, it's officer.... such-and-such here. I need you to wake up sir!'</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">'What!? What?! Who are you?'</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">'I'm officer 'such-and-such' (he found out later it was about 1 o clock and STILL doesn't remember his name) </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s2">‘</span><span class="s1">...and It's very important that you ring the hospital'</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">After stumbling, bleary eyed to the phone, and after the officer had repeated the number several times until his brain could comprehend it, my husband rang the hospital. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">'I think that you need to come down here. We are doing all that we can, but your wife has lost a lot of blood and she might not survive'</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">There was no way he could get a babysitter at 1:00 in the morning.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">'I'll come as soon as I can'. He said. </span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">They informed him that they were having trouble controlling my bleeding and they were not sure I would make it, and that he should come and say his goodbyes. He was finally able to get to the hospital at around 6am and when he arrived they told him that I was stable, they had stopped the bleeding but I was not out of the woods yet, and would still be in theatre for another few hours. Distraught, he rang the hospital chaplain, who prayed over me, that I would live. My husband said I was very grey looking and had tubes protruding from everywhere, including a machine to help me breathe.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">During that second trip to OR they opened me back up and that is when they discovered that my placenta had in fact eaten through my cervix and had attached to my major arteries and my urethra, and when they did the hysterectomy they removed the uterus up to just below one c-section scar, leaving my cervix in place. So now they had to remove the placenta from my urethra and reattach it back into my bladder and remove what was left of my cervix and the surrounding tissue. This time they packed my body using chemicals to help stop the bleeding. This took another 9 hours.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">The next day, I was still bleeding internally and they had to work out why. To do this they made a cut into my groin area and inserted a catheter with dye going up into my urethra and down the other side putting dye into my bladder, where they were able to find an area in my bladder that was bleeding due to the damage done by my placenta. The urology team were then able to go in and fix that as well. My next trip back to the OR was to remove the packing, with fingers crossed that I didn't bleed any more.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHwt9YPtR31a9JCYG-efFzx-6GYw3cz_4SgDKOFQcSjqFMDyMJll-eN6ADawcLQeNZJtpgqCUMnctLVVf56OESXaTP1q9p24ypv2-EErlamPz8RywNYuRMBzo1pUKP2o3_-sB6J7lun0/s1600/1009306_620735081278000_1860438746_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgWHwt9YPtR31a9JCYG-efFzx-6GYw3cz_4SgDKOFQcSjqFMDyMJll-eN6ADawcLQeNZJtpgqCUMnctLVVf56OESXaTP1q9p24ypv2-EErlamPz8RywNYuRMBzo1pUKP2o3_-sB6J7lun0/s1600/1009306_620735081278000_1860438746_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcella's first bath.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">While I was on life support the staff cared for Marcella in the NICU and told my husband to take pictures of all of all my baby's 'first' things, first baths, first cuddles etc, so that I could feel part of her story 'if I survived'. At this point My husband was overwhelmed. And as much as he loved this little baby, he wanted to know that I would be fine too. By that evening, and after many tears in private places they were able to assurance him that they had things under control, which eventually prompted the update our facebook group and friends:</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s2">“</span><span class="s1">Hello, it's Ben here again. It has been a very difficult day today, but I want to say thank you for everyone who prayed. I got to the hospital at 6 a.m. and the doctors gave a less than 30% of her surviving. She was in a critical condition. Right now, it looks like they have isolated her bleeding problem and they are feeling much more confident she will pull through. With your prayers and friendship, she has and will pull the rest of the way through, and my very disturbed spirit feels much more at peace now. There is still a small chance she will bleed again so the doctors are still watching her closely, but it is fair to say the battle is almost over. Thanks again. Christina and I are thankful to have such valuable friends. (Ben).”</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1"><br /></span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">For me the last things I remember was going to sleep in the theatre and the next thing I knew I was waking up incubated in ICU. I had been in an induced coma on life support for 5 days. The doctors had so much trouble controlling the bleeding. I had my blood replaced 4 times, using all the O- blood in the state. I used 178 units of blood and products. The medical team had to work hard to keep me from bleeding out and dying. There was many times when they didn't think I would make it through. In recovery my doctors told me how worried they were that I wouldn't make it. He explained that it was like he was just holding me here by my heels. The doctor giving me the blood said to my husband that there had only been one other person that he had given that much blood to that survived.</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Recovery was very painful. I remember waking up in ICU and having the attendants come every 2 hours and turn me. That was extremely painful, and for the next two hours I would slowly work myself back to a position that was more comfortable, only to have them come back and roll me on the other side, which again was a really painful position. That went on for a few days. I also remember waking with tubes, breathing and feeding equipment down my throat. It was rigged up in such a way that if I tried to pull it out it would make me gag and let the nurses know what I was up to. Finally it got taken out which induced a huge vomit. Then I had what I thought was a strong need to go to the toilet and poo! I just felt so panicked because I needed to go to the toilet but I could get my message out. Inside I was screaming for help: “I need to go to the toilet!!”. I think it took a while before anyone could understand me. When they finally did, someone explained to me "no, it's ok, you don't need to go to the toilet. You have a bag collecting your poo. That's what you’re feeling". Phew! finally I could breath a sign of relief I wasn't going to poop myself! I didn't have a clue how I would go to the toilet in that state anyway; I didn't even have enough strength to touch my face!</span></div>
<div class="p3">
<br /></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">I finally got to met my baby on day 6 of her life, I could only hold her for a few minutes because I was so weak. She was the smallest out of all my children, and had a look all of her own then. Now she looks just like the other children. For me this was my first visit, for her it was her third. The NICU staff brought her down on day 2 and put her on my chest, and took pictures, at this point unsure that I would live, and were trying to create as many memories for my baby as they could. Also, it is said that skin to skin contact can help the mother recover just as much as the baby. The nurse that put Marcella on my chest said that I responded to her, by rubbing my chin on the top of her head, which I only have a vague memory of. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWuVV47ocW23e_MvkB8_DzMk20u2gpWDcFaozmhu6E2FYXptqnYReo-4QQkSDxViNGWbivgU5r9ZBqnuVn1aqls8Ud4qxSOZFjczu2JrlVm2fFw4EjyMGqt-Wc8W1SJdk-wNDAeKmVA0/s1600/1040303_623269601024548_584330844_o.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhOWuVV47ocW23e_MvkB8_DzMk20u2gpWDcFaozmhu6E2FYXptqnYReo-4QQkSDxViNGWbivgU5r9ZBqnuVn1aqls8Ud4qxSOZFjczu2JrlVm2fFw4EjyMGqt-Wc8W1SJdk-wNDAeKmVA0/s1600/1040303_623269601024548_584330844_o.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">First meeting of Marcella.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
</span></div>
<div class="p3">
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">When I was well enough to be moved to an ICU room they changed me over from continuous morphine to button operated morphine that I could press every 5 mins to get another dose, however I was so weak from all the operations, surgery and drugs that I couldn't press that button, so the only time I got a dose of pain relief was when someone visited me or someone passed by my room. I remember the room so well. On the left side of me was a wall of windows, and I was so tired and weak that every time I fell asleep I would have nightmares and I would have to use all my might to jolt myself out of the nightmare and wake up. In many ways the whole experience was a long nightmare that I couldn't wake up from, but in the end I did. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">The recovery has been a really long one. Getting back on my feet, dealing with the experience of being depend of other for you basic needs, the extreme exhaustion from all the blood loss, my bladder healing, going home with a bladder bag for 7 weeks, wearing a stoma bag collecting lymphatic fluid from the open incision on my groin, bleeding for 5 months, long term kidney issues, dealing with the emotional side of losing my fertility, the trauma of a birth like this, not being able to breastfeed, and having the outlook of my future being changed so much. I'm glad to now be working with the Australian Red Cross and the Hope for Accreta Foundation, and being able to help other women that are experienced and dealing with a diagnosis of accreta, is helping me wake up from this nightmare and hopefully helping to give hope to others. </span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Marcella, 5 months old.</td></tr>
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<div class="p3">
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Oh the flip side of this experience is all the miracles that we did see happen, for which I am very grateful, for instance: </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* Marcella in her own right is a miracle and we love her dearly.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* The obedience of our children during the time I needed them. Getting the phone, computer and the lady next door when I needed them. They did well.</span></div>
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<span class="s1">* Our neighbour was home. They are regularly not home, but thankfully this wasn't one of those times that they were out and our neighbour was able to come over and help with the children. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* Then while calling the Ambos, I messaged Ben to come home, whilst I was bleeding. I also messaged my friend to come help since I was bleeding. We had discussed early that if it was an emergency I could call her. Now here is the miracle: both Ben and my friend where on facebook at that time! My husband didn't have a mobile phone, so facebook was our only communication tool during the day. Now normally Ben would have gotten my message a little while after I sent it, but that day he got it straight away, and started running home. My friend who is also a busy homeschooling mum, happened to be on facebook at that exact moment as well, and was able to pack up her four children quickly and come. For me those are two great miracles, because I was able to go into theatre knowing that my children were being looked after and my husband was able to say a quick goodbye to me before theatre. We both had no idea that it would be nearly a week before we saw each other awake. </span></div>
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">As for the unseen part of the journey I was unconscious, so wasn't aware of the miracles and the prayers that were said on my behalf. </span></div>
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Ben's Account of the miracles while I was under.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* The miracle of having present and available babysitters.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* The facebook group that I had set up to share our baby news, which was a good communication tool.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* The support the Chaplains gave to Ben. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">* People all over the world that were praying for me and my baby. </span></div>
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<span class="s1">* All the blood that was needed was available to save my life.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* Marcella had an APGAR score of 2 when she was born, and it quickly became normal. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* Marcella didn't need too much help when she was born, and other than being 4 weeks early, she was developed enough for life outside of womb and only had to learn to feed.</span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* The skilled surgeons and medical staff, including the quick responding Ambos. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* All the kind staff that where so nice to me. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* All the friends and family that supported my husband during the time I was in hospital. </span></div>
<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">* The many women that donated breast milk for my baby while I was on life support, and the women that have continued to provide breast milk for my baby. At 9 months old she is still receiving breastmilk from a dear friend, which was not only a blessing for my baby, but also myself. While I wasn't able to establish a supply due to all the trauma, it has been a soothing ointment to my hurting soul. </span></div>
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Sometimes the miracles were big and life saving, and sometime seeming small like having the chaplain turn up at just the right moment to help me through an emotional breakdown, or friends turning up with healing foods like chicken broth and healing prayers and words to feed my body and my soul. A big thanks goes out to all those that have keep us in their thoughts and Prayers. </span><br />
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<div class="p2">
<span class="s1">Christina Mathewson - 31/3/14. </span></div>
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<span class="s1"><a href="http://www.facebook.com/l.php?u=http%3A%2F%2Fthejoyofthehome.blogspot.com.au%2F&h=_AQFwcA19&s=1">http://thejoyofthehome.blogspot.com.au/<span class="s3"></span></a></span></div>
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-75621857095621038162014-03-27T20:37:00.000-07:002014-04-22T21:52:22.423-07:00Pip Story - Twin pregnancy, with cpp and percerta. <table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMEjwC-oQlIAyVnsYtzAhm2rjH0lmHJDsG44L5v2LClHBdgAXzQ49VdEnD9SSBTA9tD5dqaDcaOrHydOq9cwvfk3cFNeBeMnTM1TCOjyDBwOooY37zQu-K8yjNpgrNcQOPz0atBd0zvc/s1600/200808120008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMMEjwC-oQlIAyVnsYtzAhm2rjH0lmHJDsG44L5v2LClHBdgAXzQ49VdEnD9SSBTA9tD5dqaDcaOrHydOq9cwvfk3cFNeBeMnTM1TCOjyDBwOooY37zQu-K8yjNpgrNcQOPz0atBd0zvc/s1600/200808120008.JPG" height="240" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">My First hold of the twins together. </td></tr>
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<br />
On New Years Eve 2007, aged 37, I did a home pregnancy test which came up positive. I had 4 children, 3 from previous and 1 with my 2nd husband. I was nervous but at the same time excited as my youngest was quite a bit younger than my other children and this meant he would get a sibling close in age to him, he was only 1 at the time. As I was over 35 I went for a 12 week nuchal scan to make sure everything was ok. As soon as the ultra sound began up on the screen appeared 2 babies. Congratulations the lady doing the scan said, it’s twins. I was shocked, I never expected twins.<br />
A week after the scan I had a bleed, confused by this I asked the midwives at the hospital during my booking in appointment what this might mean. She said it was probably implantation bleeding and said this often happens with twins, so I didn’t give it another thought. The bleeds kept happening and I was sent for another scan. During the 2nd scan I was told I had a placenta previa but she said the placenta can often lie low at the beginning of a pregnancy and it should move up as my uterus grew. Happy with that I proceeded with my normal routine.<br />
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I had a couple more bleeds but nothing too huge over the next few weeks, I really didn’t worry about it too much. At my 18 week scan my placenta was still low and was graded as a complete previa. I was also told the twins weren’t growing at a normal rate and were small for their gestation, particularly baby b. I had a hospital appointment a couple of days later and the doctor didn’t like the look of the ultra sound report and wanted me to start having ultra sounds fortnightly in Sydney, a 2 hour drive from home. The doctor advised me that as the placenta was lying so low it wasn’t getting the same blood flow as a placenta up the top of the uterus, so it wasn’t feeding the babies properly. I was also told to have pelvic rest and if I had any bleeds to get straight to my local hospital. Of course I had another few bleeds and a few hospital trips.<br />
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Around this time I had also started having quite bad pain at the site of my previous c-section. My 1st 3 children had been natural births, no pain killers, nothing. They had all been fast labours with no major complications but with my 4th baby I had to have an emergency c-section, he had turned into breech position but also had his feet above his head, Frank Breech, he was trying to come out bottom 1st. So I was whisked away to have my baby via c-section, which I might add was horrible. I had never had major surgery I was terrified and really just wanted another natural birth.<br />
<br />
I had quite a bad bleed at 22 weeks and the local hospital was considering transferring me to Sydney. Luckily that bleed stopped and after several hours they released me. At 24 weeks I had another scan in Sydney and the babies really hadn’t grown much again, I was told they had severe IUGR, they explained again that the blood flow wasn’t good as the placenta was lying so low. Saddened I drove home and tried my best to do nothing, trying in vain to increase the blood supply to the twins. At 26 weeks I went to Sydney again for another scan, this time they said, you can’t go home today, we are going to admit you. The babies weren’t growing properly and baby b was not getting enough blood flow, they decided complete bed rest would be the best thing for the babies. I was admitted and given my 1st steroid injection to help their lungs develop, this is when I started to get really frightened. This is the moment things became real, my babies might come early, not just early but they were really small for their gestation, their chances of being born healthy weren’t all that good. I received my 2nd steroid injection within 24 hrs of the 1st one and I had neonatologists come and visit me in my room. I was given brochures about preemie babies and their outcomes. However the obstetrician reassured me they would do their best to keep the babies inside me till 36 weeks.<br />
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I had scans every 2nd day and each time I hoped and prayed they had grown. Unfortunately they weren’t growing well. They also discovered the pain I had been complaining about on the inside of my c-section scar was actually an accreta. I had never heard of it before. All of a sudden I had so much interest in me by all sorts of different specialists. My head was a whirl with this new information I was being given. I clearly remember being so angry that I had to have a c-section previously. I even confronted the obstetrician, asking why they let so many women have elective c-sections if this sort of thing can happen. It didn’t make sense. I was mad with my cousins that I had considered to posh to push, both had lined up for elective c-sections. 1 had 2 c-sections the other was due to have her 3rd c-section. I couldn’t understand how they paid to go to private hospital and paid to have elective c-sections and their obstetricians allowed this. I was angry, frightened and feeling completely miserable, I was stuck in hospital, unable to see my husband or children until weekends as we lived 2 hours drive away and my husband had to work and somehow juggle the 4 children we had at home, cook dinners, prepare school lunches, make sure homework was completed and find someone daily to help with our 1 year old. The twins prognosis wasn’t very good and now my life was also at risk. Could things go more wrong?<br />
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I continued to have scans every 2nd day. The babies weren’t really growing and the accreta was looking worse, they decided it might be turning into a percreta. They were worried about my bladder. I had the neonatologist come to visit me in my room to see if I had any questions for him considering I should have read the brochures. He advised that I do a tour of the NICU, so I knew what my babies might be in for. I agreed and it was set up for the next day. Being wheeled through there, being shown the equipment, how it worked and what it was for and then being shown a baby that they estimated was a similar size to my twins at that time was awful. But I had hope that I would carry them another 8 weeks and deliver them at 36 weeks and surely they would be bigger and more robust.<br />
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I got to 29 weeks and the situation wasn’t looking good. The accreta definitely looked like a percreta and the babies weren’t growing. They decided to start getting organised for imminent surgery. I was wheeled off for bloods, visited by an anaesthetist, a gynaecological oncologist, interventional radiology, urologists and so on. They all came more than once explaining things and asking if I had questions, it was surreal in a really bad way. The NICU had 2 beds ready and everyone was on standby.<br />
At 29 weeks and 5 days they told me tomorrow will be delivery day, baby b wasn’t going to survive the next 36 hours, the blood flow was so poor. I was fasted from 12am and wheeled to the interventional radiology rooms the next morning to have balloons inserted into my femoral arteries, so they could prevent blood loss should I haemorrhage and central lines put into my neck, all while being awake. Then I was wheeled off to see the anaesthetist to have cannulas inserted. Not long after I kissed my husband and was wheeled into a massive operating room. There were 30 people in there, I was shocked to see so many, All the different doctors went through what their role was and they all had interns there to watch and learn.<br />
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The operation goal was to get the twins out, repair damage done by the accreta/percreta and stitch me back up. Things didn’t go to plan, I began haemorrhaging as soon as they opened me up, the femoral artery balloons were inflated, I had a lot of blood and blood products administered, they had no hope of saving my uterus, and they were racing just to keep me alive. All I really know is the surgery lasted 7 hours and I woke momentarily up in ICU. The next thing I knew was I was in High Dependency, it was the next day and my husband was right next to me, although I could only just make him out as I couldn’t see properly. I asked him how the twins were, he said the boys are ok but very small, he tried to show me a photo of them but my eyes couldn’t focus, I was frustrated I couldn’t see what they looked like. I wanted to see them in the NICU but the nurses said I wasn’t well enough to be moved yet. The next couple of days are a blur of nurses, machines beeping, tubes hanging out of me, bags blowing up constantly on my legs and oxygen. I wasn’t allowed to move, I was completely stuck lying on my back as the balloons in my arteries were still there and they wouldn’t remove them yet in case I had to have more surgery, they were unsure if I had damage done to my bowel. The nurses came in every hour to check me and I remember them saying push the button, the morphine button, but I was too weak to press it, either they did or my husband would. During this time I missed my sons 2nd Birthday and I still hadn’t met my twins.<br />
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Recovery in High Dependency Unit.<br />
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Day 5 came and the nurses wheeled my bed into the NICU, I still couldn’t move and I couldn’t focus but they wheeled me between 2 incubators and told me these are your boys. I could see 2 very small pink blobs inside but couldn’t focus at all. I kept asking the nurses why I couldn’t see and they just said it was because of the medications. I was so frustrated, what do they look like? I was told they were tiny but considering that they were doing alright. Taj was a little over 800g and Zahn was 1.2kg. They needed to be on a ventilator for a while and they had so many machines keeping them alive it was awful. I just wanted to leave, I couldn’t see properly, it was hot in there and I started to feel ill.<br />
The next day they took the balloons out of my femoral arteries and I had a physio come as my lungs weren’t handling the flat on back position. Day 7 I had the drain tube removed from my swollen belly and they said they would put me in Maternity the next day. Day 10 I was discharged from hospital after begging them to please let me go. I needed to be with my other children, I needed them to know I was going to be alright, I also needed to be around them for my own comfort and to let the healing begin properly. We did the long painful drive home, without our babies, I cried the entire way. I couldn’t drive for 12 weeks so I had no way of getting myself back down to Sydney, I had to rely on someone else to help me. My husband worked for contractors and they lost their contract so my husband lost his job only days after I got home. It was scary financially but a blessing at the same time as I had him to help me through all of this and to be my driver. He cooked and cleaned and was my rock, we became closer than we had already been. The twins spent 2 mths in NICU in Sydney, and then they were transferred to my local hospital. They spent another mth in there and came home weighing only 4lb and 5lb.<br />
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My first precious cuddle with Zahn.<br />
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Welcome to the world Zahn<br />
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Welcome to the world Taj<br />
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The recovery and NICU was a time in my life I would rather forget as it was so traumatic, my vision never properly came back and I now wear glasses but we are all here and we are all survivors.<br />
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All the children together :)Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09128615625162519094noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-2582067195738044374.post-62649590340950473482014-03-16T21:57:00.000-07:002014-03-27T21:11:17.726-07:00Anthea’s Story - Placenta Accreta.<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Celebrating My lovelies first birthday giving back. </td></tr>
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We had been trying for a baby for some time. I had waited a long time before we started trying. There was always something that had to be completed first. Finally in May 2012 we were pregnant with our first baby. I remember I was at a wedding – a Greek wedding – it was a beautiful day and the Great-Grandma of the Bride said something to me in Greek. I had no idea what she said. Later I was told that she said I was with child. Naturally that night I did the pee on a stick, I nervously waited and yelled out to my husband to tell him the news! I was roughly all of 5 weeks pregnant. </div>
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At 6 weeks we confirmed with my GP that we were in fact pregnant. That night I had my first bleed. I remember curling up in a ball crying on the floor as my husband was on the phone to Health Direct. I thought I had lost the baby. We spent the night in the hospital being told there was nothing we could do but wait. On the following Monday it was confirmed that the pregnancy was still in fact viable but there was no guarantee that we would not have bleeding again.<br />
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At 7, 8, 10, 14 & 16 weeks we had more bleeding. Every time my heart sank a little more but I never gave up. I wrote notes to our little baby every time it happened asking this little being to just hold on. It was figured out at 8wks by my OB that there had been two babies but one obviously never developed. I will never forget how I felt once my OB told me that we had lost a twin. It was an answer to the bleeding but the sadness of what could have been never leaves me.<br />
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The remainder of my pregnancy was deemed normal. I was scanned at every appointment and everything had gone well. I was eating healthy, keeping fit and enjoying being pregnant. I had no further bleeds and the 20 week scan was all clear. Nothing unusual. Just a normal first baby. I worked until 36 weeks and enjoyed almost 6 weeks of doing as little as possible. In fact I went well past my due date to the point that I was induced.<br />
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On the 25th of Jan 2013 I had a wonderful 5 hour labour once my waters were broken. I used gas until 9cm dilated and then the Epidural had kicked in. Thank god for the Epi is all I can say. My baby had crowned and decided to not only move slightly transverse but also twist her shoulders. She was delivered via Ventouse with the help of an episiotomy. Once she was delivered (my husband had to even help push my stomach to get her out!) they immediately wanted to deliver the placenta and placed my baby on my chest. Oh that was amazing – it just took my breath away. Then things were not sounding great, although the Epi took away most of the feeling – I could feel a gushing sensation and thought there was no way I could be peeing as I had assistance there as well.<br />
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Then I could hear my OB saying the placenta was not fully coming out and that he had to manually go in and remove it. Then all of a sudden I remember hearing my OB calling for Code Blue and telling everyone to get in there. My baby was taken off of me and they were jabbing me with needles left right & centre. My husband watched the entire thing but stayed and held my hand asking me to just keep squeezing his hand. I switched off to everything else that I could and just remember trying to squeeze his hand so he knew that I was going to be OK. Code Green (I think) was also called – from what I understand this meant get the states Blood Supply on alert.<br />
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I was rushed out of the Delivery Suite with a Team of Drs fussing over me. I remember getting to a door way and they had to slam the stirrups down and hold my legs up to get the bed through. Then I remember the lights on the ceiling and feeling like everything was so fast. It was, they were rushing me straight to Theatre. They say you see the bright lights when you are close to death and I know what this means now.<br />
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It was a complete shock to everyone, there was no inclination that this was going to happen. It certainly gave my OB a massive fright. Theatre was around 3 hours I think and they did the same surgery twice after I started bleeding again. They had to basically pack & re-inflate my uterus so that my body thought I was still pregnant. I had a surgical balloon and so much packing to help everything and control the bleeding.<br />
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My OB was 5 mins away from considering a hysterectomy but the bleeding managed to slow due to Factor VIII blood product being administered to me. If a hysterectomy was what he had to do to save my life I would not have cared. I had over 8 litres of blood transfused and that does not include Plasma, Platelets and any other blood products. I was put into an Induced Coma and on the respirator in effort for my body to deal with the shock. Then I was transferred to CCU and it was just watch and see. Obviously I had no idea what had happened.<br />
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My husband was advised that I would be on the respirator for at least 5 days and that there may need to be further discussions if I was not responsive. I must have decided I was not going to wait that long to see my baby girl and by hell did I put up a fight. Just over a couple of days later I was able to breathe on my own, although I still had oxygen to help. I woke up and had every limb attached to some kind of machine, be it a monitor, drip or god knows what else – it was on me. I could not move and was very puffy from all of the fluids that were being pumped back into me. It was the ultimate detox. My husband waited until I was able to talk again. Once I could, we announced our little girl’s name – Vivienne Quorra Childs. Vivienne means lively and Quorra means heart. She is a lively heart Childs.<br />
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I did what I was told, I was patient and I was positive. I managed to only cry once, because I overheard the nurse saying they would not bring my baby down. I had to be in CCU – my family was on the edge and not coping very well. If I could prove to them that I could fight this, then they would cope with the trauma of it all better. My mum did not leave my side the entire time; she was focused on her daughter so my husband could be focused on his. I made a remarkable recovery – one they did not expect. When I asked for my baby, to try feed her, they prepared me that my milk may never come in. I didn’t care – it was my only way that I could bond with her. I thought that just the motion of skin to skin would keep me fighting. Again, I proved them wrong and I am still breast feeding my little girl now at almost 13 months old.<br />
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I was lucky - I still have my uterus intact and after further surgery in May 2013 - by OB is hopeful that another child is definitely a possibility. It is just up to us to decide if we want to go down this path again, even though it would be managed next time around.<br />
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Today, the 20th of February 2014 was the day I was allowed to give back. For the first time ever I made a Blood Donation. It is part of my road to recovery mentally. There is still a journey to go with that but I will get there.<br />
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Placenta Accreta was a very small article I read about in my baby book - I never thought it would happen to me.<br />
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