Elodie gave birth at 32 weeks: 'And then you have to go home without a baby'

“We can't guarantee the baby is okay”

The puncture turned out to be okay, so option two was chosen. The tests followed each other for twelve days, but then I noticed that the baby was starting to move more and more. That same day, on my way to the bathroom, my water broke. For real this time. They told me that a baby can live with very little fluid and the head of the department decided that we should still aim for 34 weeks, but the baby thought differently. The next morning I was three centimeters dilated, but the gynaecologist told us to try to stop the birth anyway. “We can’t guarantee that the baby is okay,” I kept hearing. The stress was enormous. The pain too. That same evening I was 7 centimeters dilated and the team prepared me for what was to come. “You’re going to give birth now, but we can’t say what the baby’s health is like. He may have to come with me immediately.” I was incredibly relieved when I heard him cry after the birth. He was allowed to lie on my chest for ten seconds, but then he had to come with me to undergo a lot of tests. My partner didn't leave his side for a second, and I was patched up. Alone. Afterwards, I was allowed to rest in a room in the Maternal Intensive Care. Not in the maternity ward, because they didn't want to put me, as a mother without a baby, with a new mother and her newborn. Two hours later, I was allowed to visit Aaron in his small incubator. He didn't have an oxygen mask on, but everything was closely monitored via all kinds of tubes and devices. I will never forget that image.

“The Neonatology department is a world of its own”

At 1,970 kilograms and 46 centimeters long, Aaron was one of the largest babies in the neonatology department. Some babies are born at just 25 weeks and weigh no more than 600 grams. It is a world of its own. A kind of small community of moms and dads who come to spend the day with their babies. Some can occasionally 'skin to skin' do, but often the babies are too small, then you sit next to the incubator all day looking at your child. And then you have to go home again, without the baby, knowing that you can be called at any moment because the condition is deteriorating. And then the day came that Aaron was allowed to come home with us. Overwhelming, but also double, because suddenly you are on your own. You have seen how nurses changed his diaper, washed him and fed him, but now it is up to you. The bond between us does become closer, because you are doing it now. Today Aaron is doing very well. He has caught up with his weight and height, his motor skills are improving nicely and he is a really happy little boy. People are quick to say “Good to hear that he is okay now”, but it is something that we find very difficult to leave behind. I had imagined the start completely differently, and we missed that 'normal' maternity period. There are also not many people around us who understand what it feels like to have a premature baby. The fear, the uncertainty, the pain and the scars that will be there forever.”