My Tiny 1% Miracle! Docs Said He wouldn’t Live
Tammy was told her baby would die
After a hectic day with the kids, I was looking forward to getting into bed and resting my growing bump.
But as I pulled back the duvet, I heard JohnnyJames, 2, calling for me.
‘Mummy’s coming,’
I shouted down the hallway.
I made my way to his room but before I got there, I felt a gush between my legs. No!
My partner AJ, 29, heard me and came rushing to my side. ‘My waters!’ I told him.
It was February last year and I was only 20 weeks pregnant.
The hospital told me to come straight in. There, they confirmed the amniotic sac had ruptured and said to expect labour to start. ‘Will the baby survive?’ I said. ‘I’m afraid not,’ a doctor said. I put my head in my hands and howled in pain. Not again.
Back in 2013, I was 23 weeks pregnant when I went into early labour. I had to watch my son Adam-john die in my arms two hours after being born.
Losing him was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to go through and the thought of having to do it again was heartbreaking.
Won’t give up
The next day, with no signs of labour, the medics asked me to take medication to bring it on. I refused.
‘Your baby won’t survive now your waters have gone.
You risk getting an infection and dying if you don’t give birth,’ a doctor said.
‘I don’t care – I’m not bringing another baby into the world just to die,’ I said.
I meant it. I decided to leave it up to the universe to decide.
For as long as my baby – who we named Jesse-james – still had a heartbeat, he hadn’t given up and neither would I.
I was sent home and told to expect contractions to start shortly. But they didn’t.
A few days later, I went back to the hospital for a checkup.
They confirmed there was still no sign of labour.
I thought this was good news – but doctors didn’t agree.
Without fluid around him, I was warned that Jesse-james had less than a one per cent chance of survival.
Again, they tried persuading me to induce labour – but I refused again.
‘Your baby will die, you’re just prolonging things,’ a doctor told me.
It was so devastating. I’d only just started to cope after losing one baby.
How can
I lose another?
The outlook was so bleak that I planned Jesse-james’ funeral – a blue coffin and a horse and cart to pull it.
For the next couple of days, I walked on eggshells, half expecting to feel contractions.
They were the darkest of days. But, deep down,
I had a glimmer of hope that
My boy had less than a one per cent chance of survival
a miracle might happen.
I searched online for things I could do to stop labour and found a group called Little Heartbeats on Facebook.
It raises awareness of PPROM – preterm premature rupture of the membranes – and supports mums-to-be in my situation.
On their advice,
I got antibiotics prescribed in case of infection.
I put myself on bed rest and had plenty of water.
Days turned to weeks and JesseJames was still wriggling inside...
Early delivery
At 24 weeks, I knew that if Jesse-james was born, the doctors would have to help him.
I persuaded my midwife to give me steroid injections to prepare Jesse-james’ lungs for early delivery.
I still had a battle on my hands to try to keep labour at bay. I spent most days in bed.
AJ was amazing, took care of my children – Cameron, 7, Megan-rose, 4, and Johnny-james, 2.
I made it to the third trimester... But in April last year, at 30 weeks, I noticed the discharge I’d been getting had changed colour.
I went for a checkup, and was told the baby had done a poo. ‘We need to get him out – now,’ my consultant said.
Half an hour later, I was in theatre for a Caesarean.
Doctors said that JesseJames might be stillborn...i shouldn’t expect to hear him cry.
And they were right – JesseJames came into the world silently... But moments later, I heard the tiniest whimper – and my body flooded with relief! Before I could even see my baby, he was rushed to Neonatal Intensive Care and hooked up to a ventilator. When he was born, I lost six pints of blood and had surgery to remove the placenta. I also had five blood transfusions.
Moments later, I heard the tiniest whimper. Relief!
A celebration
It was 12 hours later when I was able to visit Jesse-james. ‘Hello, precious boy,’ I said. He’d proved all the doctors wrong. But, sadly, the battle for his life wasn’t over.
He had to fight off a respiratory infection. He was diagnosed with club feet, flat head syndrome and torticollis – which means his head tilts to one side after being stuck in a difficult position in the womb.
He’s had to have operations on his legs and he must wear a corrective helmet full time.
But Jesse-james has had fighting spirit from the start – he’s got stronger and stronger.
We recently celebrated his first birthday and he’s meeting all his milestones.
Words can’t express how proud I am of Jesse-james. And I’m so glad I stuck to my guns and believed in him – otherwise he never would have made it.