I call her The Child as she asked me too. Funny thing she is. She doesn’t like Twitter. Where I spend a lot of my time. And told me that I wasn’t to use her name. I never have. Maybe once when drunk. Her name is Caitlyn. She is 12 and up until recentely the whole of my world. Now we share that with her sister.
Caitlyn is a special girl. I guess our kids are all special. But for me. She is the reason I kept going when everything else around me was falling apart. I guess in time I will get to those things.
I was 20 when I fell pregnant with her. 9 weeks gone when I found out. The prawns tasted funny. Of vinegar. I kept declaring they were ‘off’ to the place I was eating. My taste buds were having a frenzy.
By 12 weeks I started to lose a lot of blood. Weirdly looking back, I wasn’t scared. I just decided what will be will be. Nothing I could do to change it. I was told it was a ‘threatened miscarriage’ I went on to have 2 more of those, at 14 and 15 weeks. I lost a lot of blood all 3 times. The last time it took them a very long time to find a heartbeat. Why they never did a scan I will never know. Would have saved a lot of tears and a lot of time.
It was pretty plain sailing after that till I hit 27 weeks. I woke up in bed, thinking I’d wet myself or that my waters had broke. When I turned the lights on, I realised it was blood. And a lot of it. I called my sister as I really didn’t know what to do. She told me to call midwife and to call an ambulance. Which I did. I was rushed to hospital. I lost that much blood I needed a transfusion. I was scared, again no heartbeat could be detected for eternity. I was scanned this time and baby seemed to be okay. My placenta however really wasn’t. I was told I needed bed rest and that they wanted to keep me in, so that I could rest and allow baby to develop some more. The next morning. I sat up, and as I did I lost huge amounts of blood again. It was gushing out of me. I can still remember it dripping onto the floor and thinking that was it. No more baby. They examined me and I was 3cm dilated. Labour had begun. They really didn’t want me to have her so I was given a drug to stop labour or at least slow it down. It worked. My mum didn’t want me to be alone to have her. And the hospital, Chelsea and Westminster made my mum the promise, if I didn’t bleed for 48 hours I would be allowed to go home to Poole. Turns out the bleeding stopped and off I went. Now. 29 weeks. I had another bleed, not so bad that I had to stay in thankfully. I had enough of hospitals. I remember roughly at 30 weeks and a day I must have been acting funny. My sister who I was staying with said I was acting weird. I had started bleeding again, but I didn’t want to say anything. I didn’t want to go to hospital. Not again. Anyway, she knew something wasn’t right and opened the door when I went for a wee. She saw the blood and anyway off I go to hospital again, only this time they keep me in. Sigh.