Being mummy to a preemie

I remember repeating it like some sort of mantra - "he's due the 11th May" I would say over and over again to each person who looked at my bump and asked when he was coming. So when I was taken to hospital on 28th March and told that my waters had broken and baby would be with us in the not too distant future, all I could think was "but he can't come... my baby's not due until the 11th May.

Funnily enough I had a feeling throughout my entire pregnancy that Luke was going to make an early appearance (lets call it mothers instinct). I had my hospital bag packed from about 26 weeks after having a horrible nightmare in which I went in to early labour and had nothing to take with me. That weekend I promptly bought everything I needed for my bag and left it buy the door, waiting for babys birthday to arrive.

         The day that Luke arrived 

I was measuring big from very early on and on the night of 28th of March, I sprung a hind water leak at my friends engagement party (thunder stealing much?!) I will never forget the feeling of panic and uncertainty when the doctor told me "your waters have started to go. We will keep baby in as long as we can but it looks like he's coming early". What followed were a very stressful few days of blood tests, steroid injections, bed rest and scans. We managed to keep him in an extra week but on 6th April, exactly 5 weeks early our little baby boy entered our lives.

                  Baby's first photo 

Having your baby come early, every step of the way is filled with worry. I was lucky to have a relatively straightforward labour and birth. However at the end of it I only got to hold Luke for a couple of minutes before he was whisked away from me and taken to NICU. I didnt get the post birth cuddles and closeness. When everyone else was on the ward with their babies next to them, I was alone with what seemed like a million miles between me and my little boy. It seemed so unfair at the time that everyone else was getting newborn cuddles and spending time with their little bundles of joy and then there was me. Stuck in a nightmare of bad news.

          Luke at just a few days old 

There is also a slight sadness to being a preemie mummy. I am hugely grateful and feel very blessed that Luke ended up being ok. He is now no different to any other 7 month old. However I can't help but feel a pang of jealously whenever people mention being in that 'newborn bubble'.
Being mummy to a poorly little preemie you don't get to be in a bubble of feeding and cuddles and pyjama days on the sofa. My bubble was full of wires, machines, blood tests and hospital food. It is a really hard place to be in, especially when it feels like the rest of the world are living in a happy little bubble of love. And quite honestly with all our problems along the way, I didn't find it got any easier until Luke hit 6 months.

            First cuddles with Daddy 

Unfortunately when you are pregnant, you don't get told about how to deal with being mummy to a premature baby. No one tells you how hard it will be, how drained and helpless you will feel when it all starts to go wrong. When we were in hospital, we had to deal with things I hope I never have to go through again: Our baby being rushed to the resuscitation table, not being able to hold him properly until he was 2 days old, having to navigate your way around a mass of wires whenever you wanted a cuddle. No one prepares you for what it will be like if your baby comes before your due date.

Having a baby earlier than planned is a really scary, difficult thing and I personally think that pregnant women should be educated and made aware of what they could potentially face. I am just thankful that I was lucky enough to have a really wonderful support network of friends and family along with my lovely husband.

     Now a happy, healthy 7 month old 

Sometimes it's hard... And that is all.

 No one tells you how painfully exhausting the nights will be during sleep regressions. 

Nobody tells you how often you end up crying along with your baby at night. 

No one tells you how hopeless and powerless you feel when your child is ill and has to go to hospital. 

No one tells you how desperate you'll feel when you're the only voice your child has and the doctors won't listen. 

No one tells you how much it will hurt when your child refuses to eat the food you've spent hours preparing. 

Nobody explains the sinking feeling you get when you hear them cry out again and you just want to lie down after 6 months of sleep deprivation. 

No body tells you what a failure you'll feel if you can't breastfeed. 

No one tells you how often you snap and shout at your husband even if he's done nothing wrong. 

No one tells you about the days where you feel totally isolated, as if you're doing it all alone. 

Don't get me wrong, my son is my world and I love him more than words can describe. There are so many positives to being a parent: getting to have cuddles in the middle of the night just you two, seeing their faces light up when you look into their cot in the morning or having your baby cling onto you as they fall asleep in your arms are amazing things which make all of the above seem irrelevant. 

But sometimes you just need to be able to say that being a mum is hard. No justifications or buts followed by the positives of parenthood. Sometimes you just need to be able to say that being a mummy is really hard and soul destroying. Because sometimes it is. And thats OK - it does not make you a bad parent. Just an honest one.