His last breaths?
My baby boy was battling a terrible virus
Pointing at the ultrasound image on screen, I brought my daughter Elsie, then 3, closer and broke the news.
‘You’re going to have a baby brother!’ I smiled.
It was September 2019 and my husband Sean, then 29, and I were just as excited as Elsie to discover we were expecting a boy.
But behind the smiles, I was suffering from pre-eclampsia.
Most likely due to problems with the placenta, it caused high blood pressure and kidney problems, as well as pain under my ribs and headaches.
For the rest of my pregnancy, I had check-ups every two weeks.
Then, in December, at 35 weeks pregnant, I had a caesarean.
The operation lasted just minutes.
‘Is he OK?’ I panicked behind the screen as the doctors delivered my baby boy.
Carter weighed just 4lb 8oz and was diagnosed with jaundice.
But after five days, he was well enough to come home.
Sean and I were so excited to finally start life as a family of four.
Only, Carter quickly came down with a cold. Was sleepy, had sniffles.
And come Christmas Day, he’d stopped feeding.
When his appetite still hadn’t returned the next day, we dropped Elsie at her nanny’s, and took Carter to Addenbrooke’s Hospital.
Taking him out of the car, Carter’s face was blue.
We raced him inside to A&E, where I broke down.
‘Have we left it too late?’ I sobbed to Sean.
We watched in despair as medics swarmed around our baby, attempting to resuscitate him.
It was the scariest thing I’ve ever seen.
After what felt like a lifetime, they managed to stabilise Carter. Doctors said he’d had a cold which had developed into a respiratory virus.
And he was experiencing breathing apnoea due to a build-up of mucus in his lungs.
Each breath he took was exhausting him.
And my baby boy was so tiny, I despaired that he couldn’t fight it.
In the Paediatric Intensive Care unit, little Carter needed tubes to help him breathe.
‘I feel so helpless,’ I cried to Sean.
We were living hour by hour, fearing the worst.
We wanted to be close by while he fought for his life, so nurses mentioned Acorn House.
It’s accommodation located on the hospital premises, run by The Sick Children’s Trust.
A real home-from-home, it was invaluable to have somewhere to be together during such a traumatic time. Even better, we could bring Elsie, too.
After two failed attempts, doctors were finally able to remove Carter’s breathing tube in the new year 2020, and our baby started breathing on his own.
Then, on 4 January, as Elsie turned 4, Carter came home.
Now 13 months, he’s fighting fit and just like any other toddler.
He enjoys dancing and watching The Wiggles.
I feel lucky we had The Sick Children’s Trust’s support when we needed it most.
And today, my little family is back together and stronger than ever.