Stories

Her heart's in the wrong place

Would we ever be able to bring our precious baby back home?


Published by: Dawn Murden and Harriet Rose-Gale
Published on: 8 November 2012


We certainly hadn't planned this. I was about to become another statistic, another cliché... another teenage mum.
Me and my boyfriend Michal were only 18 and we'd been careless, not used protection.
‘It'll never happen to us,' I'd thought. But, now I was pregnant. Although we'd both been in shock at first, we were slowly coming round to the idea.
‘We'll have our own family,' Michal smiled now, as we cuddled up on my bed. Baby magazines were spread around us and the photos of cute teddy bears and adorable mobiles had taken my breath away.
‘We already are a family,' I grinned. ‘This little one's just an added bonus.'
I'd first spotted Michal outside our local shop three years earlier. ‘Cor, he's gorgeous,' I giggled to my mates. He spotted me staring and, thankfully, he found the courage to come over and start chatting. After that, we were inseparable.
While my parents John and Sabita were disappointed at first about the baby, they loved Michal.
‘The three of you can stay here until you find your feet,' Mum smiled when she calmed down. So, now we were getting ourselves settled. And, the next day, we were brimming with excitement as we went for our first scan. ‘There's our baby,' I wept. ‘All looks good,' the sonographer smiled.
Before we knew it, we were going along to the 19-week scan. Mum and Dad had already cleaned out the spare room for the nursery.
‘Time to find out whether it'll be pink or blue!' I giggled to Michal.
The sonographer seemed to take an age scanning my tummy. My heart started to race. Then she frowned.
‘What is it?'I asked.
‘It's your baby's heart,' she said. ‘I'm going to refer you for another scan.'
‘What's wrong?' I sobbed, as Michal bundled me into his arms.
‘I'm sure it's nothing,' he soothed.
But the fear in his eyes betrayed his calm voice. We then had an agonising three-hour wait for another scan. Then, finally, we were seen.
‘Your baby has a condition called a congenital diaphragmatic hernia (CDH),' she said. ‘She has a hole in her diaphragm. All her organs are being pushed up through it into her chest. Her heart is on the wrong side, too.'
But out of all that, the word that hit me first was ‘she'. We're having a daughter, I thought.
‘How has this happened?' I evenutally croaked.
‘We don't know what causes it,' she said. ‘But I must warn you, most babies don't survive it. And, if she does, she'll need lots of surgery, which might not even work.'
‘You have to stay positive,' Mum said. I nodded and wiped my tears away. Then I looked at Michal. ‘We know what we want to call her, don't we?'
I smiled. He nodded.
I was a huge Katie Price fan and loved that she'd called her daughter Princess Tiaamii. We'd just put our own spin on it. ‘Princess Tiana,' Michal grinned.
For the next three weeks, we tried to stay positive as my belly got bigger. But, sometimes, in the night, my tears would start.
‘I can't lose her,' I'd sob to Michal. Days seemed to drag on forever. Then, finally, we were sent to the Liverpool Women's Hospital to see a cardiologist.
‘I think you should terminate,' she said. ‘It's a million to one that she'll survive.'
I looked at Michal. ‘Stay positive,' he whispered. We had to give her a chance at life.
I took a deep breath. ‘We understand the risks,' I said. ‘But we won't terminate.'
‘Okay, we'll need to monitor you very closely,' she said.
Every fortnight, I had to have a scan to see if Princess was hanging onto life. Each time, she was, and I fell in love with her more.
Not wanting to tempt fate, we only bought two things - a Moses basket and a pink babygro. We didn't know if she'd have a future. Then, at 39 weeks, I woke up having contractions.
‘It's time,' I panicked to Michal. This was it. The moment we'd find out if our baby would live.
I prayed for a miracle. ‘Please, let her be okay,' I whispered at hospital as doctors and midwives swarmed around my room.
‘If her heart rate drops, we'll have to do a caesarean,' one warned.
Luckily, it remained stable, and after nine hours, I was finally allowed to push.
‘As soon as she comes out, we're going to rush her away for tests,' the doctor warned. ‘She won't be breathing, and there is a very small chance she could be stillborn.'
Tears took hold. All this time I'd stayed positive, now I was faced with the fact I might not hear her cry or hold her in my arms.
‘No!' I said defiantly. ‘I won't give up now.'
I pushed and pushed until, finally, she was out. ‘Is she okay?' I panicked.Suddenly, I heard her cry. We burst into tears. ‘She's doing well,' the doctor said. ‘We can let you have a quick cuddle.'
‘Hello, Princess,' I said, taking her in my arms.
She was tiny but her skin was rosy pink.
‘She's perfect,' Michal beamed. But then we were interrupted. ‘We have to take her for tests,' the doctor said. I watched as they put her in the incubator. Then she was wheeled away. It broke my heart.
‘Surely every hour she hangs on is good?' I asked Michal.
‘Of course,' he smiled. ‘She's a little fighter.'
Doctors didn't know how long she'd be in hospital, so they gave us our own room to stay in.
The next morning, we were called down to see her. ‘We're going to sedate her for three days to carry out tests,' the doctor said.
I put my hand up to the glass. ‘Mummy's right here,'
I breathed. The next day, the doctor came to see us.
‘She's missing her left kidney and her right lung. Her heart is on the wrong side,' he explained. ‘We need to see if her body works.'
‘Oh my god,' I cried. I didn't know how anyone could survive that, let alone a tiny little baby. We rushed to her side. ‘Please hang on for us,' I wept. We stayed there for two days. Then, the doctor came to see us - this time he was smiling broadly.
‘She's amazing,' he said. ‘Her body shouldn't work, but it does.'
Princess should've needed countless ops, but everything was working fine on its own!
‘It seems to have balanced out,' he said.
She was still on oxygen, so they took the tubes out. She was able to breathe on her own.
I was so nervous doing her first feed. She'd been fed through a tube until now. What if something went wrong? But her lips smacked around the bottle. After that, Princess thrived.
‘Thought you might need more of these,' Mum laughed the next day, handing us a bag of nappies and clothes. After 10 days, we were allowed to take her home.
Now, Princess is six months old and you'd never think there was anything wrong with her.
Recently, we visited the consultant who suggested the termination. ‘It's a miracle,' she gasped. ‘I'm so glad you didn't listen to me.'
So are we. Princess really is our million to one baby.
Charley Bradshaw, 19, Warrington, Cheshire