Our six month rollercoaster ride

In September 2014, Aoife Grace Williams was born. We had a relatively normal, uneventful pregnancy but little did we know this was all going to change. Knowing that the birth of our daughter was hopefully imminent, we advised our older son’s nursery that George’s Grandparents would be picking him up at lunchtime as we’d be ‘somewhat busy’!

When we got to the hospital, our midwife Renée did a quick examination with no dilation showing at all. But the contractions, whilst very light were coming thick and fast. Who knows what prompted Renée to undertake another examination, but we’re so lucky that she did. As she removed her hand, meconium (a baby's first bowel movement) was now apparent in the waters.

Renée decided to put a trace on for the baby at which point the foetal heartbeat dropped and our hearts sank with fear. All of a sudden, everything was a blur around us. Two more midwives joined the fray taking bloods and other measurements, whilst arranging an emergency ambulance for transfer. We both hid our fear and tried to get by with silly humour in the face of what we knew was not a great situation. When we heard and saw our baby’s heartbeat dropping dramatically, we were terrified by not knowing how she was coping.

The consultant and theatre team were on standby for when we arrived and it was a very simple decision that the baby had to come out as soon as possible. The nurses said Aoife looked like the Incredible Hulk when she was born due to the amount of Meconium she was covered in. She was quickly whipped away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit (NICU) where a large team immediately began working on her. She suffered acute Meconium Aspiration Syndrome (effectively doing her first poo whilst still inside mum and ingesting it in to her lungs). The meconium in the lungs is a major problem due to the impact it has on respiration, it also poses the risk of neurological problems if the brain is starved of oxygen, and the nature of the substance also means that septicaemia becomes a high risk.

I was invited to see Aoife and the reality of the situation soon hit, with her condition being described as ‘incredibly poorly’. The plan was to get her moved as soon as possible (an ambulance was already en-route) to take her to another more specialist NICU. Another hour or so passed, with the Consultant remarking that whilst she was still very unwell, she had managed to hang in there so far.

She was transferred to the NICU at The Rosie Hospital in Cambridge for specialist treatment including cooling, to try and protect her brain from any lasting damage. I saw her just before the acute neonatal transfer service came to collect her and despite her state, she genuinely responded when she heard my voice talking to the doctor about her transfer; she knew who I was I think. I spent a lot of time talking and reading to her.

We were incredibly fortunate to be offered the support of The Sick Children’s Trust and given a beautiful room in their Chestnut House facility, just two floors below NICU. This was a massive help to us as it meant we could spend as much time as possible with Aoife, being on hand when there was a chance it might be the last and only time that we might spend with her.

We live about an hour and a half away, so it would have been a nightmare having to come back and forth with Aoife being so poorly; we would have literally had to camp in her room. In addition, my wife was transferred as an in-patient and wasn't entirely well herself due to the emergency caesarean. Staying at Chestnut House meant I could always be on-hand for them both. I know 'mentally' it helped my wife as she wasn't quite so mobile, so knowing I could be with Aoife a lot helped her too.

The fact we were able to stay on-site also helped us keep our sanity. We could come and go to Aoife at all hours, and genuinely relax when we were at the house as we were a phone call away and could get to her bedside within two minutes. It was enormously helpful to just get away and switch off for a bit. I genuinely slept soundly every night as I knew I was so close. Our son George stayed with his grandparents but loved coming to visit, and being able to cook a meal for us to eat together was a big deal for us. We've never had to receive charity before; whilst I'd always gladly given, it really has a new meaning!

After a few days Aoife began to be weaned off her drugs and medication. We started to see little movements in her body pretty much for the first time. One of the most bizarre things ever was watching her ‘cry’ with a breathing tube passing her vocal cords – so there was no noise! Most importantly though, with the sedation removed, we were starting to see more and more of a ‘normal’ baby; eyes open, reacting to our voices and just starting to appear as the baby we had hoped to see some days earlier, and we got our first cuddles the next morning! 

Today, we're all at home and enjoying life. Every day we’re amazed that we have a bouncing, healthy baby (who's just cut her first tooth). Her first six months have been such a rollercoaster and we couldn’t have done it without the help of The Sick Children’s Trust.