I’m not a sharer, in fact I hid both my pregnancies for some time, and especially made a conscious effort to keep both off social media. But I’ll explain why..

I mainly did it to protect myself from the what ifs..

Me and Luke lost a baby before we had Orson, I was just 5/6 weeks, so that definitely played a massive part. I just felt like, why open myself up to having to explain to a load of people on social media that my world has just ended? Not for me, sorry.

I’m also an ED nurse with a lot of experience (the only reason pregnant people come to ED is when it’s gone wrong) so I’m a negative Nancy so to speak.

I just hate that people go off the assumption that you get pregnant, have a baby and that’s it. You see a scan picture, a thousand bump pictures then a baby and absolutely nothing in between.

I also find it a bit boring, pregnancies drag at the best of times but living and breathing it with people bores me to tears- again not for me.

Unfortunately pregnancies don’t go as smoothly as social media leads us to believe. 1 in 3 pregnancies result in miscarriage. 1 in 3!! Think about how high that number is!? Not forgetting all the anomalies and millions of other things that can go wrong for mom and baby in addition to that.

I now feel like people should share, that we should share all the SHIT women have to go through to reproduce.

I’m hoping this post helps me heal, makes me feel better about the trauma myself and Luke have just been through, and helps people not feel alone, because I know I felt so alone.

We were so LUCKY with Austyn, and I want to bring awareness to the 0.2% of women that go through what I did, or even just a little more appreciation for how hard it is for some women with high risk pregnancies.

At 34 weeks I had to go for a growth scan, Austyn was a BIG baby, during the scan the radiographer said my placenta was particularly low and she wanted to get a second opinion. Within an hour of leaving the room I was called by a fetal medicine specialist who had asked me to get to a different hospital straight away. When walking into the room I saw this appointment as routine, just a ‘check’, but as soon as I sat on the couch she said ‘thanks for coming in, it’s just if this is positive we will get your baby out at before 35 weeks’, utter panic hit my core. (Orson my first son was born at 37+4, needed respiratory support and spent some time in SCBU, so this was my worst nightmare. I wanted my baby in my belly as long as physically possible.)

She explained that they thought I had placenta accreta, where your placenta grows through the uterus, meaning it’s attached, so if you gave birth naturally, the placenta wouldn’t come away, your uterus wouldn’t contract and you’d just bleed and bleed and bleed, she couldn’t tell on scan 100% so I needed an MRI scan.

I naively thought if it is attached they just cut it away? Do a c-section and chop away at my uterus, then remove the placenta because surely they can do something!?

Unfortunately my consultant explained I only had 2 options- full hysterectomy post delivery of baby or cut me from the top down, chest to belly button, take the baby out, leave the placenta in and then hope it doesn’t get infected, if it did get infected I’d have to have a full hysterectomy anyway. She explained it’s all simply too vascular and the risk of haemorrhage was far too great.

Crap options yeah?!

The MRI was scheduled for 2 weeks later, 36 weeks and 5 days, (delayed because of COVID but I was glad, kept my head down and kept my baby safe in my belly as long as I could)

I waited 4 days for the results (over a weekend) and I kept thinking the longer it had gone on the less likely it was I had accreta.

I went to see my consultant at 37 weeks exactly, As I walked into the room she said ‘I’m so sorry it’s a lot worse than I anticipated you’ve got precreta’ (my placenta had grown through my uterus and embedded itself into my bladder).

The sense of urgency was overwhelming, they wanted me to be admitted and have the baby the next day 37+1, she explained there was no way I could keep my womb and full hysterectomy would have to to happen. The scar would be from xiphisternum (lowest part of the sternum) down to my Pubic bone and there’s a potential of a long term catheter, nephrostomy bag and also even a stoma bag, depending on what they find when they open me up.

As my consultant was frantically organising my c-section she asked the midwife to order 6 units of blood, then said ‘no that won’t be enough order more’ (being a nurse in this situation is horrifying, I’m sat there thinking, she thinks I’m going to need more than 6 units!? How much am I going to bleed??) She then explained I’d obviously be put to sleep for some time, I would need HDU input and there was no way Luke could be in the theatre when our baby was born.

We had kept the sex of the baby a surprise so far, when we had Orson Luke told me what sex he was as he was born and I’ll always remember that look on Luke’s lovely face, so we wanted to recreate this moment. After learning I’d be put to sleep we discussed it and me and Luke then decided to find out what the sex was, as neither of us would technically be in the room when he/she was born, my consultant liked this idea and did a scan for us then and there.

It was such a special moment, one that I’ll never ever forget, finding out together we would have a little brother for our OJ, obviously despite the circumstances.

People say they don’t care about the sex of the baby but I’ll be honest, I wanted a brother for Orson so badly, and the realisation of definitely having no more children crushed me so him being a boy definitely lifted a weight.

They wanted to admit me incase I went into labour or started bleeding but I was adamant I wanted to leave and pick Orson up from nursery and have one last night with my boys. My consultant wasn’t happy but let me go on the agreement that if I went into labour or had any contractions or bleeding to phone 999.

We had a lovely night and got ready for our new arrival. In the back of my mind I kept thinking this could be the last time I cuddle Orson, the last time I lie in bed with Luke, and I actually wrote them a letter, incase I didn’t make it through the surgery. I let my sister in law know where it was and wrote down my passwords and PIN numbers (just incase).

People may think this is dramatic but if you look at the statistics- which I obviously did- my odds weren’t great, again being a nurse and knowing how routine operations go wrong, this wasn’t routine, this was a very very dangerous operation for me and my son and the prospect of not getting through it was terrifying.

I had to go back into hospital at 3am for some steroids to protect Austyn’s lungs and I rang my sister inconsolable. I just kept thinking if It goes wrong how will Luke cope with 2 kids? How will he finish the house? How will my boys cope without a mommy!? It was the worst 12 hours of my life and I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

The next day we took Orson to nursery and I gave him one last squeeze and kiss. I had been getting increasing braxton hicks, non stop and by the time I actually got to the hospital they discovered I was in labour and Austyn’s heart rate was dropping. I just think it was the stress of it all my body had given in, I was so upset.

They said they’d have to get the baby out now and I kissed Luke goodbye to go to theatre. I was taken past the nurses station and heard one of the midwifes say ‘that’s the girl with precreta’.

I had to have a spinal as they wanted to start the c-section before they actually put me to sleep (to reduce the risk of any anaesthetic getting to Austyn) however in true Charlie style I dropped my Blood pressure and passed out (for my nurse friends the last time I saw my art line BP it was 49 systolic), so they obviously had to put me out anyway, meaning Austyn got a lot of my GA and needed some resuscitation at birth.

My chubby boy was born a healthy 8lbs 13oz, PERFECT.

I woke up in HDU with a MUCH smaller scar than I anticipated (it’s still horrific but smaller), as they had pre-emptied blood loss I had blood products and also cell salvage (where they put the blood you’ve lost into a machine, clean it and give you you back, sick yeah!?)

I KEPT MY WOMB, which is astonishing in this situation. I had to have a lot of bladder surgery and recovery has obviously been slow and painful, but we are both alive and healthy and I’m just so grateful.

I’ve got the most amazing support network of family and friends and the best partner anyone could wish for.

I am lucky, I know I am, and I will genuinely thank my lucky stars until the day I leave this earth and squeeze my babies that bit tighter every single night.

If this hadn’t been picked up on ultrasound and I’d have gone into labour the result of that would of been catastrophic for me and Austyn.

Also if the multiple specialists hadn’t have looked after me and performed the operation the way they did I wouldn’t be writing this essay now.

My consultant has explained that we obviously can’t have any more children but to be honest, even if we were given the opportunity for another pregnancy, I’m sure me and Luke wouldn’t even attempt it, after this experience with 2 healthy boys I only see that as irresponsible.

Not having the hysterectomy meant I don’t have to go through early menopause and the recovery would have obviously been even harder.

None of that seems to matter now and we are so lucky that we have two of the most cheekiest funniest handsome boys to ever grace the planet, and for that I am so so grateful.

Women’s bodies are more robust than you think, and after what I’ve been through I genuinely feel like I could conquer the world now.

Its took some getting used to but I am proud of my scar, and I’m proud to still be in one piece, mentally and physically.

I hope this post makes at least 1 person feel better, every single pregnancy has its own drama, granted mine was a big one, but let’s stop pretending it’s all smooth sailing, if we’re willing to share, share everything.

Love always

CO’B and the James’ xx