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Ivy the fighter

My baby girl could do with all of the help she could get...


Published by: Jai Breitnauer
Published on: 4th February 2010

Since the moment they'd been conceived, they'd been inseparable. Three little lives had grown side by side.
But now me and my husband Matt were about to break that bond, because my triplets weren't exactly the same - one, little Ivy, had to stay in hospital while we took Rosie and Molly home.
It was silly, but I felt as though
I was abandoning her.
My pregnancy had gone like a dream, the only problem had been my size - by five months I'd looked like I was ready to pop!
So when I'd gone into labour at eight months, I'd been relieved.
I'd had an emergency Caesarean section. Molly had been born first, then her identical twin Rosie, both weighing 4lb, followed by Ivy, weighing a little less.
They'd all been whisked off to special care, but they hadn't even needed oxygen. Small, but perfectly formed, I'd thought.
It hadn't been until the next day that problems had started.
Me and Matt gave the girls their first bottles. First Molly, then Rosie, and finally Ivy.
Ivy had barely taken a mouthful when she'd started choking.
'It just went down the wrong way,' the midwife said - but Ivy had gone blue.
'She's not breathing!' I'd cried as doctors flooded into the room and began resuscitation.
But nothing had seemed to bring her back.
'She's dying,' I'd croaked.
I'd felt so helpless.
Then suddenly she'd taken a big gulp and coughed.
Doctors had put a line straight into a vein to feed her nutrients - they couldn't risk giving her milk.
Not even a day old, and already they'd been ravaging her soft skin with needles.
Tests showed she had fistula, a hole between her windpipe and throat which allowed milk to get into her lungs. It was serious, but treatable with a lengthy operation.
The only problem was we had to wait a couple of weeks until she was strong enough for the op.
So that's why we were leaving our tiny girl in hospital.
Molly and Rosie snuffled into Matt's neck as he held them, while Ivy lay there all alone, an empty cot either side of her.
It broke my heart. Poor mite was so out of it she didn't seem to notice her sisters had gone.
I lay my hand on her tiny body. She seemed so fragile.
'I love you,' I whispered. 'And I promise I'll visit every day.'
Two weeks later, after
four-and-a-half-hours in surgery, we were given mixed news.
'Ivy's condition is more complicated than we thought,' the surgeon explained. 'She'll have to stay in hospital until we can perform more surgery - it could be months.'
My heart sank. I'd been so excited about being a mummy - but juggling the twins' routine with hospital visits
'There's something else,' the consultant said.
I closed my eyes and tried to hold back my sobs.
'Because she'll have to be fed through a tube, she'll lose the urge to eat,' he explained.
'When she's ready, you'll have to teach her to swallow again - and it could take time.'
I fell into Matt's arms as images of our little girl starting school still covered in tubes flashed before me.
As the months went by, I prayed for a miracle. Rosie and Molly were doing so well, every day they'd change in little ways. But Ivy always seemed the same.
The first time I lay the girls on their playmat, I thought of Ivy in hospital, still in her incubator.
'She won't be able to do this for months,' I sighed to Matt.
She was too weak to kick, and couldn't lay on her front because
of the feeding tube.
Then, when she was 12 weeks old 'Our scans have shown the fistula has healed on its own,' the consultant told us in disbelief.
'I've never seen anything like it.'
Great! Gradually, they unhooked the tubes and monitors, until all she had was a feeding tube going down her nose into her stomach.
'She's still too weak to eat,' they explained. 'But let her watch her sisters, and she'll learn what to do.'
That night, we lay all three girls on the bed, Ivy in the middle. She looked so small compared to my other little girls, she was half their size.
'Look at your sisters,' I smiled, handing Rosie and Molly their bottles.
Ivy's little eyes flicked between them as they sucked intently.
'She's taking it all in,'
I said to Matt.
Not being able to feed her was heartbreaking. We had to keep mittens on her to stop her pulling the tube out, and she wouldn't let anyone touch her face.
The mittens caused problems of their own, though. While my other two girls played happily, poor Ivy struggled because she couldn't pick things up.
One day, Molly grabbed a building block and held it out to her tiny sister.
'Look! How sweet,' Matt said.
But the smile soon fell from my face. Poor Ivy reached out but she couldn't grab the toy, her mittens stopped her. I could see her tiny fingers flexing inside the gloves, but she just couldn't grab hold of the block.
When the girls were five months old, I started giving Molly and Rosie solid food.
Every night, I'd put all three at the dinner table in their high chairs. Ivy would sit quietly, watching as me and Matt fed the other two purée.
At seven months old, tests showed Ivy was capable of swallowing - she just didn't want to.
'Let's start slowly,' I smiled, choosing a yoghurt. Scooping some pink goo on to a spoon, I held it out to her.
It didn't even get close. With both hands to her face, she turned her head and swatted it on to the floor.
'This is useless,' I sighed.
What about the kids' first birthday - would Ivy even be able to enjoy the cake?
'Perhaps we should try and get her used to drinking milk first?' Matt suggested.
We began giving her a dummy to suck when we fed her through her tube so she'd realise that sucking meant her stomach would get full.
But when we offered her a bottle, it went the same way as
the yoghurt.
'She wants to do it,' I said to Matt. 'It's just the feeding tube is getting in the way.'
When she was nine months old, the hospital took the tube out of her nose and inserted one directly into her stomach.
It won't be long until she's eating, I thought.
Back home, I pulped up food and handed her the spoon. But she just screwed up her nose.
It's never going
to happen!
Then, at dinner...
I'd given Molly and Rosie biscuits to nibble.
Rosie waved hers towards Ivy - and Ivy held her hand out!
'She wants some rusk,' smiled Matt. She was trying to copy her sisters! I gave her a piece of rusk to hold, and she opened her mouth and let me feed her purée.
'That's the key,' Matt said. 'Treat her the same as the others!'
Meal times went from strength to strength. As long as we gave Ivy the same food as her sisters to hold, she was happy to eat purée.
Now, she's put on weight and almost caught up.
The twins always seem to be encouraging her, reaching out to her at mealtimes as if to say, 'Come on! Follow us, it's easy!'
And they're always cuddling their little sister. She giggles happily as they fold her into a hug.
Just before her first birthday, the consultant told us she was ready to try proper solids.
I swelled with pride as I brought out my girls' first birthday cake.
'This time last year, I honestly thought Ivy wouldn't make it,' I whispered to Matt, as I watched Ivy reaching for her piece of cake.
Seeing her nibble on the slice, well...it was like all my dreams come true.
Thanks to her sisters, Ivy's learned how to eat again, and I'm sure it won't be long before she's eagerly tucking into a big plate of chips!
Cathy Koester, 40, London