The Birth of Imogen Gail

The story of Imogen cannot be told without first remembering her 2 sisters, 1 brother and 3 tiny angels that flew away quietly but painfully - leaving their footprints on my soul. A piece of my heart remains just with them... Each time I look at Imogen I remember them and give thanks and gratitude for the lessons they taught me...

Chris had announced in January right in the thick of trying to conceive that he no longer wanted to try for another child. I was gutted but on his suggestion we went to counselling. We were on holidays at Toogum when he shared this with me. I felt like my heart had been ripped out - I felt quite distraught. I sat on the beach one afternoon - it was one of those grey afternoons where the sky meets the sea & they both become one. I could here my kids playing and laughing - but the pain I felt was so great. I yelled to the sky - I mean I yelled with everything I had. I said ?Source WHY???? Why right when I have found the answers to why my babies have died is it taken away.. My tears couldn?t stop and my voice sounded like one of the cows in our paddock... I looked up into the sky and there was the perfect face of a baby. It stayed and I looked away and rubbed my eyes - the image was so precise that I thought I was hallucinating... Again there it was looking down - smiling. Slowly over the next few minutes the clouds changed and the face went. I now know that face to be Imogen?s. She was the baby in the clouds...

I decided that though my whole being ached for the baby that I knew was out there for me I had to take a leap of faith. I agreed that if at the end of this period of counselling that the decision was to not conceive again that I would make every effort to heal that need in myself. I didn?t want my husband to resent another child so I put my trust and faith in the therapy process.
He came to me and said - one more time... If the next baby dies we have to agree to call it quits... Imogen was conceived with the help of clomid in April 2007.

The pregnancy was a difficult one. All my hopes hung on that little embryo that I named Col - a play on words for ?miracle?. Because I used clomid and because there were 3 ripe follies obviously the chance for twins was quite high. However I knew that there was only one (even though I hoped for twins!) and I also knew that she was a girl...
I had a fairly low HCG to begin with but it doubled within parameters and the 1st u/s at 6.5 weeks showed a single viable intrauterine pregnancy. We were off an running. I was on prednisone, asprin and clexane in a bid to prevent another loss. I had been diagnosed with antiphospholipid syndrome - and ?autoimmune response of unknown origin?. I had researched like one possessed and knew this was the answer. I knew it deep in my being.

My obstetrician became my friend - a woman also who knew the pain and the joy and wanted to help me. We had weekly u/s and each week I was fearful - but once the second trimester arrived the fear became greater - because my babies died in the second trimester...

Around 16 weeks I began to feel ?funny? - I did a blood sugar level and it was off the graph. Clearly I had medically induced diabetes. This is common with high doseage steroidal medication. I was commenced on metformin and insulin but the diabetes remained unstable for the rest of the pregnancy.
Against my better judgement I reduced the prednisone - a decision that I believed caused my body to shut down...

Life was stressful - I wanted my baby to be alive - and by now I knew that Col was a baby girl... My husband shared that he resented me deeply for having this baby and he did not want it. I can?t quite describe the shaft that went into my chest when he said those words. I could see his anger and resentment that I had pulled him along on this journey. During all of this our eldest daughter was diagnosed with aspergers syndrome... He felt angry at this too - angry at the label - angry at me - angry at the world. This man who could touch my face and turn on the sun - who was my lover and passionate mate had turned into someone that I did no longer know. It was tough. I allowed myself to be immersed in the sadness - and I felt a lot of self pity and a lot of fear.

On the morning of the 5th of October I woke at 2am. I felt incredible pain in my upper left shoulder and pain under my ribs. Denial is a wonderful drug that unfortunately is available without prescription. My heart knew it was my liver but my Mind told me it was my gall bladder - a much easier diagnosis to digest. I was in too much pain to get the kids to school but had a psychologist appt (Chris & I were both seeing her) so eventually managed to get them fed and dressed and in the car. I coped with some panadeine and hot pack on my shoulder. After my appt I walked out of Alison?s office and collapsed... Of course this created pandamonium - I was transferred to the obstetrician on call?s office.

My friend James. He looked at me and I could see he didn?t recognise me - he later said it took him a good few minutes to see it was me. I was so bloated - fluid was seeping from my feet. James was with me when I said goodbye to my first daughter - he had been a friend and a doctor in the most gentle and respectful of ways... He brought out the doppler and his wife came into the room to hold my hand. Of course we all wondered if this baby was alive. Due to the morbid edema movements were not easily detectable. It was there... It was healthy I cried and I think just for a moment I glimpsed a tear in James?s eye too - he knew how much I wanted this baby. He truly knew.

We transfered to hospital and Chris was phoned - a call from maternity is not a welcome call at 26.5 weeks... I was in so much pain I was in and out of consciousness - my liver functions, renal studies, full blood counts and platelets were seriously problematic. I just convinced myself it was my gall bladder - of course that?s why I am yellow!!!.. Pethidine just didn?t touch the sides and I was vomitting uncontrollably. The CTG continued to pick up the heart beat - that was all I focused on...

At 9pm James walked into the room. I looked at him and said ?it?s never a good sign to see a doctor at this time of night?... He squared me and said they were arranging a careflight that my baby had to be born. Again that powerful drug Denial said: ?country doctor panicking...?. My friend who works at the hospy was called in and we went on our way. The pain was like nothing I have ever experienced. The intensity was such that I would black out - roused to pleas ?stay with us?... I talked in between of what a silly fuss this all was... This baby was to be a waterbirth - my children were to be there. You will see - this is just my gallbladder...?

At the hospital I was handed over to High Dependancy - the midwife was identical - so much so that I thought I was hallucinating - to my friend Gail who had passed 3 years before... I knew that Gail was watching out for me...
She was distant - and sombre. The room filled with paediatricians - why I asked! They told me my babies chances were about 50-60 percent. I just said NO! NO! She is staying inside me!. I had ridiculous visions of one of those sci fi epics where babies are cut from their unwilling mothers. My veins were no longer present and a cut down had to be performed to get more blood. Half an hour later I met John. John was the amazing Ob that James had lined up for me. He stood in front of me in theatre scrubs. His face was kind - his words were blunt. You are dying before our eyes. You kidneys are failing, you have a massive bleed somewhere - your BSL is 30, your platelets are 41 and frankly if this goes on you have only hours left. I feel embarassed to say - somewhere I heard my voice say: ?but the baby - she is fine?... I squared his eyes and said ?she is not coming out?. ?I saw her in the clouds - I knew she was coming - if she comes now she will die - I am strong. I can do this - please give me more time?... I didn?t cry - I spoke with a sureness that shocked me - and clearly him. I had already had steroids in Nambour to help with the babies lung maturity. I had 2nd hourly bloods, a central line and morphine infusion. I was catheterised and put on an insulin infusion. He said ?okay let?s wait 2 hours?. In two hours my platelets had increased - but internal bleeding was apparent. I was scanned - I literally screamed throughout - the pain of the probe on my upper abdomen was excruciating. I lost consciousness and woke to be told that my liver had haemhorraged. There was a massive haematoma encapsulating it. The pain in my chest was worsening. Each two hours my bloods improved. We believe you have HELLP syndrome.
My beautiful friend Annie works at the RBWH - she was paged and she couldn?t believe what she saw - she walked up to my bed - clearly no recognition that I was her friend of 15 years!. She just held my hand - stroked my head and did what women do. Just be...

This went on for days - my bloods got worse 24 hours post steroid and then improved again. I was recommenced on prednisone and things started to improve. Ultrasounds showed that my baby was healthy and growing. Movements were really difficult to detect still - and I lived from moment to moment. I never dared think ahead to the next day - I just learned to live in that precise moment. A lesson that Imogen gave to me...

An ultrasound on Friday showed a healthy baby but a growing haematoma - kidneys were worsening. My blood pressure was no longer being stabilised with medication - I had severe chest pain on and off and required continuous oxygen.
John sat by my bed and said: Sunday you will be 28 weeks. Tonight we are going to have to have this baby. I just said ?NO?. Sunday we will have this baby. I told him that I had a really strong feeling that it had to be Sunday. The room filled with doctors again - they all looked at me with understanding. Not one of them doubted my arrogance. Okay - Sunday. I said ?It has to be you John - he said it was his day off but he would come in?.
He also suggested that I see my children the next day - and finalise anything that is neeeded. ?My goal is for this child to be alive and for you to be alive - but sweetheart you are critically ill?. In explaination the liver is a big organ - being triple the size makes c/section more difficult. There were many other factors but the size of the liver made the c/section a really tough one. John later said it was his most difficult in 20 years as a surgeon.

On Saturday I looked into the faces of my other babies. I brushed their hair - I smelt them. I told them I loved them. I told them I was sorry that I had got so sick. I told them that tomorrow their sister would be born. I only spoke positively - but I told them I would be very sick afterwards. As I watched them leave I knew I would see them again.

I asked for the ?do not disturb? sign. I prayed. I cried. I felt awash with guilt. ?what if wanting this baby kills me and robs my children of their mother?. I felt so alone. I felt so afraid. I couldn?t feel the baby moving and I refused dopplers. I decided if she was dead that I would learn soon enough... Annie arrived with her love and messages from countless friends that she had collected. She decorated my walls with the messages of love. I had asked Chris to buy a teddy - all of our babies have had a teddy bought for them prior to their birth. I couldn?t get the words out to ask - he seemed to understand the reverance of this need that Imogen would have her own teddy on her birthing day...

I woke on Sunday after barely a wink of sleep. I was dreading the day. My husband arrived - his favourite medicine is Denial too - my obs Kirsten and my best friend Sylvana. Off we went to theatre. John came to me and again outlined that the need for a hysterectomy was high. That a surgeon would be in the room should we ?run into trouble with that liver?. Kirsten held my hand just as she had done the whole pregnancy. Sylvana was on standby to be with the baby. They wanted to do a CTG - I said no. Kirsten coaxed me and asked if she could do it. So she did. I just couldt believe it when I heard that gallop that told me she was still alive. I felt pure ecstacy!

It took an eternity - with me watching in the theatre light - I could see Kirsten getting nervous. Chris on my other side looked like he had seen the inside of a theatre lots of times - which of course he hadn?t. The team of paeds waited and watched. A compassionate nurse opened the vertical blinds and told me to watch the flowers fall - ?remember this - jacarandas will always remind you of Imogen?s birth?...

I had asked only to be told that she was alive. Finally John said - she is born - it?s 12.02 and she is making sounds?... He lifted her up and she looked like one of those ducks in the window at China Town - all red, scrawny and so so tiny. He said - Mate you can?t see her - she?s much smaller than we thought. She was handed to the paed team - they kept talking me thru it - telling me she was doing well. I wept so much that John asked me to remember the job isn?t done - and I need to keep still! He talked and said I was losing a lot of blood - I could see Kirsten say a prayer - her lips were moving but no sound was coming. Such a different experience - my body had yielded a baby but there was not a candle, a contaction or the hint of aromatherapy anywhere. Aaah another lesson - to experience a surgical birth...

The c-section lasted 2 hours from start to finish. I retained my uterus - the incision was in a cross formation making another pregnancy out of the question. Due to the spinal block for the first time in over a week I had no pain. I felt on top of the world. I squeezed Chris?s hand and said thankyou. Thankyou for this gift...

My journey continued and the following week I had a myocardial infarction - a heart attack - the bloods that should have improved did not. It would appear that it was not HELLP syndrome afterall. I was an enigma. I had tested positive to influenza A and was not able to visit Imogen until she was 1 week old. The photo?s that were taken were worth more to me than anything. I memorised every inch of her tiny Being. I willed her to live. I was wheeled down on my bed - Chris pointed but I already knew which one she was. I was afraid of touching her. My illness had caused this - I didn?t want her to ?catch? something else... I was terrified of hurting her. Chris?s wedding ring fitted loosely around her tiny wrist. She was on cpap (continuous positive airway pressure) to assist her tiny little lungs.

I was expressing every 2 hours - but my milk supply would not kick in. I finally asked for motillium and asked a good friend to supply some of her breast milk. Formula is something that should be given to prems only if breast milk is just not an option. I knew the risk to the gut of the baby etc etc. I didn?t want Imogen put in any danger that she didn?t need to. With the pressure off - my milk came. It flowed like a river. Finally this body was doing the ?right? thing!

Finally I could be wheeled down to NICU in a wheel chair to see my princess. The smell of the NICU would hit my nostrils and I felt assaulted. The fear - to me it was the smell of fear. I would be pushed past the babies in special care - they looked so big and chubby... Finally I could hold my baby - I can?t describe in words how that felt. Like coming home - like a big soft bed - a cuddle from grandma - a hot shower after being caught in the rain... It felt like bliss... I smelt her - I sent my will through my hands to her. I cried to her - and my tears fell on her. I felt like a mother again.

As a micro prem it just felt that she was the property of the hospital. She didn?t smell like a baby of mine - she was all so sterile. I pasted a photo of her sisters and brother on the outside of her isolette. Her teddy hung in a plastic bag. I hated the machines that beeped all too often. I hated the rush to stimulate her to breathe. I wanted to run from the room when she alarmed but was trapped by insulin infusions drips and a wheelchair. Entering the NICU hearing that alarm go - praying to God, Allah, Buddha that it was not my baby. Feeling the gut wrenching pain that it was someone elses baby. One day when it was mine the guttural yell that came from my tummy - and the blood that oozed from my infected dressing. The headache that resulted. These are the things that all NICU parents endure every day.

We were always told that should anything happen a paed will come to my room to tell me. So every morning when I woke from a fitful night I knew she was okay... One day at 4am this happened. I leapt from my bed the pain that ensued caused me to faint. She was sick - an infection. I went down and sat with her. I cried I cried so much that I just sat like a zombie. I told her that she could choose to stay. I told her that my love for her was what she needed to stay. I promised that her life would be filled with siblings that loved her. That I would forever be here as her strength. I could tell she hadn?t decided to stay or go. I could feel that she was not firmly rooted in this world. I could tell.

Later that day a dear friend called and asked if she could come and do a ?healing?. She came to me and to ICU and did one on Immy. She felt it too - this was one of those times where I had to just wait. I knew that I had to accept just what is. Right now she was critically ill - that is what I had to deal with. I lived each minute. The pain of watching grew too much so I retreated to my room. I prayed.

The next day I went to NICU and I just knew she would stay. I just knew. She recovered in ?God speed? - no cause for her illness could be found and it left as quickly as it came.

Finally at 10 weeks we transferred back to Nambour Selangor Special Care. Back to friends, back to where it was all meant to be...


At 41 weeks or 13 weeks old we drove her home. I walked up the stairs and sat on the couch holding her that months before I had grappled with the first signs of pain... The circle was complete.

Life is not a known. Life has many many lessons. This story ended with a baby alive and beautiful. But the lessons she has offered me are priceless.

Would I do it all again. You know what YES! YES because Imogen taught me more about compassion and patience than 3 lifetimes on this Earth. She taught me to live in the moment, Truly to know that all we have is NOW. Those weeks in NICU I just had to grasp that she was alive NOW. Tomorrow she may not be but today, this moment I have...

Thankyou my precious Imogen Gail - who has more courage and spunk than I ever thought was possible in one tiny human being...

Deb,

Thank you so much for sharing this beautiful and heartrenching birth of Immy, god bless both of you and your family.

Bel
xxx

Flowerchild - i just wanted to send you the biggest hug and say the biggest thanks for sharing your amazing journey - your daughter obviously knew who to choose for her mummy - you're an amazing strong woman and I wish you a world of health and happiness - here's to a happy future with all your children and your fabulous courage

PS - just goes to show that you can never doubt the power of Prayer - God Bless you All xxx

:cry:

What an amazing story - you tell it so well, I felt like I was right there with you all the way. Kirsten is an amazing OB - I am very blessed to have had her deliver DD.

You are such a strong woman - we are very lucky to have you and Immy as part of our lives here at BB.

:hug:

Hun, your story had me in tears. It is obvious where your beautiful Imogen gets her strength from. You have such a strong spirit to go through what you did and now be able to enjoy your precious family and the joys that they bring.
Thanks for sharing.

Regards,
Dianne

thank you so much for sharing your story Deb - i have sat here reading with tears streaming down my face. your story is inspirational - through everything you both endured, you had faith, and you never gave up. what an amazing family! Immy definitely has her mummy's strength!!

i want to thank you too for all the advice you've given on BB - only days before Immy's birth, a friend had a 24 week bub - it's made it much easier to understand what she has been through. only weeks ago, another gave birth at 25 weeks. it is so scary, but inspirational stories like yours offer them strength to keep on going when it seems so difficult

BG

Deb thank you for sharing your beautiful story :hug:

Deb thankyou for sharing yours and Imogens story. You are a truley inspirational woman.

It has shown me how differant each NICU journey is. My DD came home after 11 weeks in NICU/SCN and it too has taught me so much. We chose the name Matilda as it meant 'strength in battle' and we knew before her birth that her journey was to be a trying one. I too however would never change it for the world.

You have written your story so well and it has bought tears to my eyes.

:hug:

Deanne.

Oh flowerchild.
Your story is so beautifully written.
It is amazing your journey and you are so brave to have experienced it all.

Imogen has been blessed with the best mother!
congratulations

wow.. that gave me goosebumps. What an amazing woman u are! great story and welcome to the world baby Imogen xox

Thank you for sharing your amazing story. Imogen is truly a miracle and you are truly an inspiration :hug:.

thank you for sharing imogen's birth story. what a wise little girl you have in your arms.

thankyou so much for sharing your amazing story, it had me in tears. Imogen is a miracle baby isnt she

Deb - words cannot express what I want them to tonight. Parts of the story I know but the telling is so very poignant. Immy is a blessing that has not only taught you, but many others about patience, the will to live and courage in the face of adversity. Thank you for sharing. And thank you for being my inspiration :hug:

Flowerchild,

You have such an amazing way with words.

I feel so blessed that you chose to share your experience. I can see that you have such a strong spirit and that from sharing the story of the birth of Imogen you have enabled a lot of other women to tune into their own spirit and stay strong in the trying times.

Thank you.

OMG. I have no words, except 'precious' - your story, your baby, your courage. Incredible.

i have tears reading through your story, thank you so much for sharing it with us.

Thank you for sharing your amazing journey. Your strength of spirit shines through your writing.

The image of the baby in the clouds will stay with me for a very long time...she was calling out to you, and your body gave her life. It is a truly inspirational story.