"I asked again and again... they said they don't really have ultrasounds in this ward."

A mother's experience of Oxford University Hospitals Maternity Services in 2022:

3 years ago today I was meant to go on a babymoon holiday to enjoy a healthy first pregnancy at the age of 28, preparing for the best time of our life to welcome a healthy chubby baby and buy all clothes, prepare the nursery, nest and have a baby shower, maybe even have a pregnancy photoshoot... All the silly things a first-time mum dreams to do in preparation of having her baby.

We already knew we won't do the antenatal classes which are paid, and we wished to save more money for when baby actually arrives.

Little did we know baby will decide it’s time to come at the start of 26 weeks of pregnancy.

Little did we know we will not have the opportunity to prepare for the baby's arrival.

Little did we know baby will come abroad and little did we know her dad won't be able to see her in the first month of her life as he is in another country and not allowed in NICU or at birth.

Little did we know I will only be allowed to see her once a week for 10 minutes (and it was not COVID time).

Little did we know I have to ask for permission to touch her trembling with fear, staying by the incubator singing a lullaby through tears rolling down my eyes trying to smile so she can hear mama's voice.

Little did we know we won't get the chance to take home a chubby baby, but a tiny little girl barely 2 kg (4.4 pounds).

She is the best thing that happened to us and is a healthy almost 3 year-old, but our start as parents was something we don't even dare talk about as it ends in arguments and memories we are trying to put behind.

We have delayed thinking of having a second baby as I don't trust the maternity care near us, we were left so alone when we needed them most.

It all started when I was 23 weeks pregnant and had spotting, I went to have my check-up with the midwife and in 2022 there were a lot of changes (midwives retiring, new ones in training, they had no consistent building, they had no laptops to write in data, they mixed up urine and blood samples...) all complete shambles, but nothing could erase the big smile on my face because I was the happiest pregnant woman, so full of dreams and just pure joy.

I did all they asked, gave urine sample for which I never received the results and now I am adamant it all must have started with an UTI a simple bacterial infection. Then the spotting continued very lightly for the next week and one morning it was brighter red, so I rushed to JR, it was a weekend. After the hours spent there, I was reassured spotting is perfectly normal and almost every pregnant woman experiences it at some point in pregnancy. I left thinking they are right. No more checks were done.

I was due to fly the following week and I thought maybe a little break is exactly what we need, to relax and soak in some sun before I’m too heavily pregnant. I was only in my 2nd trimester. On 9th August I had brighter red spotting again and I rushed to the JR again this time they said they will monitor me overnight just for my own reassurance as there is nothing wrong with me. I asked again and again if they were sure, if there was a way to check that the baby is okay via ultrasound or anything and they said they don't really have ultrasounds in this ward. The exact words "wish there was a way we have a sneak peek at the baby inside" left me gobsmacked I would have imagined maternity care has ultrasounds in 21 century with such advanced technology, but who am I to question them after all I was first-time pregnant and quite young and naive.

In the morning they said all is perfectly well and I can leave, I can fly and carry on as usual as nothing is wrong regardless of the spotting. So I went home and the following morning we had our flight late in the evening all was smooth. We landed, went back to my parent’s house (we were so so lucky we were going to visit family), went to bed and around 4 in the morning I went to the toilet and by the sink I thought I peed myself and lost control over my bladder.

Did not think much of it even if it was the first time this had happened. Went to bed and in the morning my mum thought let’s find a gynaecologist and get this checked, however it was a Sunday. Luckily in a small town, we managed to find someone who can see us immediately and it took them less than a minute to say your waters have gone. At 25+5 weeks pregnant my world span around.

What followed was swift hospitalisation, being put head down, being taken away from my family and husband unable to see anyone in hospital. Being left in just a tshirt as my waters kept leaking, and being given a bed pan without explanation what’s happening. Being put on magnesium drip and told baby will likely come in the next 24 hours but its too early. Due to the loss of water and in the rush they could not assess properly my due date (22nd November 2022) and it was barely 12 August 2022.

This was my life for the next 2 months.

Away from family, all alone (aside from my occasional roommate as there were 2 beds in the rooms) unable to see my husband, unsure what will happen, being given antibiotics, steroid shots and what not, but each day told baby is probably going to come soon. I found out later it was PPROM and found the best support in Little Heartbeats group led by the brilliant Ciara Curran who ensured I had all information and preparation thanks to her facebook powerful group.

I made it to 32 weeks and after more than 50 needles and long hospital bed bound period, my girl was born with a strong scream! She had a 2 week NICU stay and I had her home before she was 35 weeks. Then the last thing I heard from JR was around 25 October a call from them asking if I am still intending to come back to UK and give birth. I just said my baby is a month old and in my arms, to which they answered so no then... The coldest possible human answer you can imagine.