| Baby Lauren Victoria Partridge ^i^ 31 December 2004 |
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It has taken some to share our story in detail and even now,
2 years on, the hurt, anger and pain we feel at reliving it is difficult
to explain. In telling our
story we hope that other parents will be spared the same emotional trauma
and heartbreak that we have experienced.
Lauren is our miracle, we miss her every day; she will always have
a place in our hearts, our lives, our home and our families.
Since our loss, we have campaigned hard for changes to the
current processes and protocols for scanning of women deemed to be at high
risk; low lying placenta, multiple pregnancies, IVF, bi-lobed placenta.
It is for Lauren and all of the other beautiful babies like her
that we continue. Their deaths
are an avoidable tragedy. Our Story Our story starts on Saturday 8 May 2004; I woke that morning
and knew with very little doubt that I was pregnant; I had experienced the
same nausea with my first child, Josh, 13 years ago.
The reality of it was a wonderful surprise to both of us, Nick and
I had no expectation of having children between us owing to fertility
problems; it was excitement and trepidation we felt as we waited for our
appointment and confirmation at the surgery.
The process of nurturing the baby growing inside me began.
I was 38 and Nick was 41. We very quickly got used to the idea of having a baby, but
despite this I was unhappy about sharing our fantastic news until we had
had our first scan. Our
ages being what they were I was extremely nervous about anything going
wrong. We made the decision to have our first scan at a private
clinic, it was 28 June 2004; I was 13 weeks pregnant.
Those first images of our baby were extremely emotional and we left
the clinic in awe of what we had seen; the images of her moving around
were amazing and even from that early visual we knew she was a beautiful
baby. She was perfect.
Our dreams confirmed we could do nothing but talk about our plans
for the future. Our families were over the moon and very protective of me,
Josh wasn’t quite so enamoured by it, but we were sensitive to his
feelings and with time, explanation and an opportunity to attend a scan
with us, we were very soon all looking forward to her arrival.
Our daughter was due on Christmas Day, 2004 I was determined she would have the best start in life and
was extremely conscientious about what I ate, activity I undertook and
rest I had. After a couple of weeks of nausea in the first trimester I
started to blossom. Had the
outcome not been so devastating, I would comfortably say I probably had a
near perfect pregnancy. At the 20-week scan it was noted that I had a low lying
placenta and a re-scan was arranged for week 34.
This didn’t really disturb me, a low-lying placenta is apparently
quite common and the chances are it would move in time.
I continued happily, the baby was growing well and moving
frequently, I was fit and healthy. Nick,
being more curious than me, asked many questions about relevant risks and
dangers, but we were reassured that this was quite common and that often
the placenta receded before full term.
At no time did anyone mention the possibility of vasa praevia. At the 34 week scan the placenta was still low-lying and was
observed as 24mm from the internal OS.
The Registrar on duty observed this as a major placenta praevia and
requested that I be admitted for immediate bed rest the following morning.
The urgency she displayed concerned me, however I arrived home to a
message from the Registrar apologising for a mistake in her diagnosis,
after consultation with a colleague it was confirmed that only a minor
placenta praevia existed and it was not necessary to be admitted. The
recommendation was to carry on as normal and come in for a further scan at
week 37. She assured me that
there was nothing to worry about. At the 37 week scan the sonographer/midwife indicated that
the placenta was 25mm from the OS, within the 50mm limit for their
hospital and therefore I would be recommended for a caesarean section
delivery. I was a little disappointed, but the safety of our baby was
paramount and if that’s what it took I was happy to oblige.
The sonographer/midwife was overruled by the Registrar, who
confirmed the Royal College of Obstetricians and Gynaecologists guidelines
stated that within the 20mm proximity was the limit and therefore The arrival of Lauren
Victoria Around 9.00pm on 30 December 2004, I noticed some minor
spotting so attended the maternity suite for a check, where I was duly
admitted. The baby’s heartbeat was monitored for close to an hour, with
no abnormal activity recorded. In
fact Lauren was extremely active, Nick and I watched with anticipation as
she moved around in my tummy. I
was allocated a bed and Nick was sent home and told to expect a phone call
in the night. My waters broke about 11:30pm and contractions commenced
shortly afterwards, I couldn’t believe our luck, today was Nick’s
birthday, Friday 31 December, Lauren had chosen to surprise her daddy with
the best birthday present ever. Throughout
the pregnancy I had spent hours talking to Lauren and now was no
exception, I told her how pleased her daddy would be, how elated we were
to have her, what a little minx she was for making us wait all this time
and spent the next hour or so pacing the ward to ease the pain, grinning
with excitement. As the
contractions started to increase in intensity I asked the on-duty midwife
to call Nick, at which time I had such a strong contraction I was doubled
up in pain. She advised me to
take to my bed where a midwife would come to me.
When she arrived to examine me she told me that there were a couple
of blood clots and that I would be taken to delivery suite immediately.
I was a little nervous, particularly following the drama which had
occurred over the suspected placenta praevia.
On the way there I felt Lauren moving and couldn’t wait to
meet her, not long now I whispered to her, be easy with mummy.
Very soon I was on the delivery table and quickly attached to
the heart monitor, my contractions were extremely intense.
Within no time a sense of urgency seemed to set in among the
attending staff, and it was suggested I would be prepared for an emergency
C-section. I wasn’t fully
aware of what was happening but was alerted to a change in the heart rate,
I remember asking what’s wrong, what’s happening.
The registrar on duty appeared and said it was too late to commence
a C-section, that the baby was well on her way and encouraged me to push.
I argued that I didn’t feel ready but she told me I must, I
really didn’t want to give birth without Nick present, we had patiently
waited for this moment, but I didn’t have a choice.
I gave birth to Lauren within 7 minutes and 4 pushes, at
3.02am. I thought I was dying,
there was so much blood. I
remember the midwife saying, here’s your little girl, she showed
Lauren’s limp body to me very briefly; there was no cry; and then rushed
her on to the resuscitation table in the delivery suite. Nick had received his call at about 1.45am and made his way
the 9 miles to the hospital as quickly as possible.
In the car park he received another call from the delivery suite to
say that the baby was coming fast and to get there quickly. I remember Nick rushing through the door of the delivery
suite just after Lauren had been delivered, I looked at him and all I
could say over and over again was “I’m sorry”, “I’m so sorry”.
I instinctively knew there was something very wrong; I willed
Lauren to cry with every breath that I took. Lauren was a perfect baby girl, weighing in at 7lb 2oz. The delivery team were completely baffled and trying all of
their usual remedies for struggling new born babies.
They began resuscitation and after 30 minutes picked her up and
moved her quickly to the special care baby unit (SCBU) where she was
connected to lots of wires and given help with her breathing.
All of this was taking place in front of us.
I can’t honestly say that I clearly remember what happened after
that, I think I probably went into deep shock, I just remember praying for
Lauren’s survival, willing her to come round.
I kept telling her how much we loved her and how strong she must
be. Nick was proactive in
chasing up activity on Lauren and was in and out of the delivery suite
regularly. By this time my mum
had arrived and Nick had shared the news with her. After an hour had passed they decided that they would try and
give Lauren some blood as they had realised that she had lost most her
blood as she was being born. But Lauren fought on against all of the odds.
The transfusions were very difficult and not very successful as her tiny
veins had not started to open yet as no blood had been available to kick
start her system. Babies can survive lots of trauma in birth but one thing
they cannot survive is having little blood at birth. They moved us to the Snowdrop Suite, a room which had
established on the side of the delivery suite by the Still Birth And
Neonatal Death Society(SANDS). It
was some time before they took us to see Lauren in the SCBU.
She didn’t move or even open her eyes. I held her tiny little
hand and gave her all the energy I had left; I would have given anything
to see her come round. Every
few minutes the alarms on the machines would sound and all of the doctors
and nurses would run to care for her. After some hours the Registrar on duty came to us in the
Snowdrop Suite and explained that Lauren was very ill and her prospects
were very grim, she was unable to sustain any self support. He recommended
that that they should not continue to keep reviving her when she had fits
or struggled to breath. We couldn’t believe that from being expectant
parents a few hours earlier we were now being asked to consider allowing
Lauren to slip away peacefully. It seemed like this was not really
happening to us, but we knew Lauren had been without a good oxygen supply
for some considerable time and eventually agreed to the doctors
recommendation. We went to the SCBU unit where they took Lauren out of the
cot and disconnected her wires and tubes.
We held her in our arms as she slipped away, 6 hours after her
birth; as I kissed her goodbye, I longed to breath life into her, to give
her the opportunity she so surely deserved. The expression of total loss
and despair was unbearable. It was at this time we realised we were
holding a real angel in our arms. We were lucky enough to record those precious moments with
Lauren and we will treasure every minute of that footage and every
photograph we took. The next day our consultant came to see Sharon and myself.
He explained that this was a rare condition that had not been
diagnosed known as Vasa Praevia and passed some print outs to us with
information from the internet. The hospital later made a statement that
the print outs that we were handed from the consultant were not the views
held by the Trust. Every day until her funeral we visited Lauren and every day I
longed to wake from this nightmare and bring her home, but the reality was
it was never going to happen. To lose a child is unbearable; to lose a child through a
simple lack of knowledge and awareness is unacceptable, there is simply no
valid excuse for this medical ignorance and we are determined that we will
do whatever it takes to ensure that changes are introduced so that other
hopeful and expectant parents do not suffer the devastation of losing a
perfectly healthy baby. Subsequent to the loss of Lauren we have been lucky enough to
have another daughter through IVF, Madison Victoria on the 13th
March 2006, born six weeks prematurely at just over 6lb. She is beautiful
just like her sister Lauren,and so often looks just like Lauren in every
way. As we look into life that is in |
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