Amel had been in the antenatal ward for a week or so with high blood pressure, which eventually turned into Pre-Eclampsia. She was pregnant with her 1st baby. I met her when she came to the birth suite, and I was the Midwife on duty. As soon as she was wheeled into the birth suite, my heart started to ache. I knew this was going to be a hard day for her. She had started bleeding, it was painless, but she was bleeding nonetheless. Her blood pressure was abnormally high and she had all the signs of Pre-Eclampsia. I introduced myself to her and asked her how many weeks pregnant she was. “23 weeks and 6 days” she said, sobbing. Her husband was standing in the corner with dark circles under eyes, he had been having sleepless nights, I could see. The room was full of people - Doctors, Consultants, Midwives and a Paediatrician. I felt so overwhelmed for Amel. She had choices to make and they had to be quick.
I listened to the babies heart rate. 164 beats per minute. Great, perfect. The Paediatrician stepped in front of the cavalry and asked what she wanted to happen with the baby. The baby would still be very small, 24 weeks old. The baby could survive with months and months of intensive care. Did she want her baby resuscitated? She had to make the decision fast. The Doctor stepped in. Was she aware she would be going to a High Dependency Unit or Intensive Care Unit after the baby was born by caesarean? She had to think quick. She was bleeding more heavily now.
I asked Amel if there was anything I could do for her. “Don't leave me” she said. So I stayed.
The events blurred passed. It all went quickly but it was all so emotionally charged it also seemed to take forever. The placenta was tearing itself off the wall of the uterus - placental abruption is its medical name. The caesarean was done at an extraordinary fast rate. Jay, her husband was not allowed to come into the operating theatre as Amel was going to be under general anaesthetic and hospital policy is no one but medical staff allowed in theatre when there is a GA. Once the GA had taken effect, Amel had sticky tape put over her eyes and a tube down her throat so that it could do her breathing for her. The surgeon started cutting, and then pulling Amel's stomach and uterus. I prayed silently.
Baby was born. Its a boy! A beautiful perfect boy. He was so small, he reminded me of one of my rainbow brite dolls I had as a child. He wasn't crying. I listened to his heart. He had a faint heart beat and it was slowing. He was dying right in front of me.
My heart was breaking. This little man was dying and his mother was anaesthetised and unconscious. His Father wasn't allowed to be in the theatre. So it was just me. I wrapped him in a blanket with patterns of blue flowers and lavender and held him to my chest until his heart stopped beating.
I carried him to his Father so that they could meet. “I'm sorry Jay”. He didn't want to hold his son at this moment so I told him I would take him down stairs with me, back to the ward.
I had a special task to do now. My shift had just finished and the Midwife who was assigned to take over from me came and greeted me and said 'I’ll take it from here, you go home'. But how could I? I spent the whole of this child’s life with him. I witnessed his birth and his death. How privileged was I? I couldn't just leave until I felt it was completed. The midwife mumbled something about me not getting overtime and walked out of the room as I prepared myself for the next part.
I made a memory folder for his Mother and Father who would never get to hold him, who would never get to experience his expression and life pulse. I dressed Baby Blessed in a golden yellow nightgown, and re-wrapped him in his blue flower and lavender blanket. I took photos of him and put the photos of him in the memory folder. I pressed his fragile, perfect hands and feet in ink and made prints of them in his memory folder. The memory folder that was for Amel and Jay to celebrate the too short but extraordinary life of Baby Blessed.
I felt an overwhelming sense of gratitude. I felt enormous love in my heart for this baby who I felt chose me to be his carer. I was there for his birth. I was there for his death. I was there to celebrate his life and mourn his death.
Amel went to Intensive Care and I never saw her or her husband again, but I sent them their memory folder and a letter which expressed my immense thankfulness for letting me be a part of there intense journey.
And I went home that day with the song of baby blessed in my heart.
"Waiting For The Sun"
This will be an uncertain time for us my love
I can hear the echo of your voice in my head
Singing my love
I can see your face there in my hands my love
I have been blessed by your grace and care my love
Singing my love
There's a place for us sitting here waiting for the sun
And it calls me back into the safe arms that I know
For every step you're further away from me my love
I grow more unsteady on my feet my love
Singing my love
