Meeting Frankie

Meeting Frankie

At 34+5, my waters started leaking, I was admitted to hospital where my body naturally started to contract, but Drs were able to stop the contractions (thankfully). I then began to show signs of infection (high heart rate, temperature, feeling nauseous), so they attempted to induce me with the oxytocin drip at 35 weeks; that failed.

After 8 hours of induced labour, my cervix hadn’t progressed a tiny bit. So they ran a whole lot of antis through me and did extensive blood tests, which surprisingly came back showing I didn’t have an infection, so they aborted the induction.

I ended up staying in hospital for a week, being closely monitored and had scans every second day to check on the baby and the amount of fluid still around her. Whilst there, I had multiple MET calls for my heart rate, which was resting at around 130-150bpm. I was finally discharged at 36 weeks on strict bed rest, antibiotics, and an induction date at 37 weeks exactly.

37 weeks came around, we went in for the induction, and the hospital was swamped with labouring women, so they could not safely start my induction. Frustratingly but understandably, we were sent home and given another date, but this time pushed back a week as the OB was happy with the amount of remaining water around her.

This was a hard pill to swallow as emotionally, it was all beginning to take a toll, but I totally understood the longer she’s in there, the better for her.

My first daughter was born at 34 weeks, so I knew more than anyone if I wanted to achieve my dream of bringing my baby home from hospital with me, this is what was best.

A new induction date was booked for this Monday, the 9th of August. Baby girl had other ideas. Thursday the 5th of August rolls around, and like usual, I wake up at silly o’clock busting for the toilet except for his time as soon as I stood up, I had the gush…. Yep, definitely my remaining waters.

We headed to the hospital. While being assessed, my heart rate skyrocketed to 150bpm and blood pressure dropped, another MET call. I had been at the hospital all of 10 minutes before contractions began and were coming hard and fast, barely giving me 2 minutes between. We headed to a birth suite where I laboured for 2 or so hours in that 2 hours dilating to 8cm.

Unfortunately, baby girl had switched to a posterior position in that time, and I was really struggling with the back pain. I asked for an epidural. Within minutes after it was administered, the baby’s heart rate dropped, all while mine skyrocketed again. I then began bleeding ALOT and passing clots the size of golf balls.

The midwife assessed the risk factors, promptly called a code pink (emergency c section). Within seconds, there were more people in the room than I could get my head around.

I remember looking to my mum end partner. They looked stunned, trying to comprehend all that was happening.

Then finally, at 7:51am on the 5th of August, our beautiful little Frankie Nola was safely in my arms doing skin to skin all while they stitched the belly that she once called home 🤍

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