Survival - #dosomethingyummy

#dosomethingyummy has been running this month to gain awareness for CLICSargent.  I first became aware of CLIC in the late 1980s, raising money through a drama group I used to attend.  It's a very deserving children's cancer charity, who have done a huge amount of good work over the years.  March 10-18th is the week that they're attempting to raise money.  This follows the prompt of 'Tell us your story of survival.  What did you overcome?'

Rising at 4am, I pad down the corridor.  It may be summer, but my room is freezing.  The nursing staff raise an eye.  I should be in bed they say.  I should be resting, asleep.  My breasts ache, heavy with milk.  How can you rest when you're the only mummy on the ward without her baby?  How can you rest when you know you need to express, to increase your milk supply, for the little one who is still so dependent on you, despite the umbilical cord being cut.

Little Miss was born during my medical studies.  Ironically enough during my paediatrics block.  She was strong at 34+2 but my body rejected her placenta.  I was seriously ill with pre-eclampsia.  The only treatment for me, was for Little Miss to come into this world.

My first night of not being pregnant was in a different hospital to Little Miss.  I begged a transferal to the same hospital as her.  I was transferred the next day, released from HDU.  Midnight I arrived.  Midnight I got my second cuddles.  Midnight my parents and parents-in-law met their first granddaughter.

My mind whirled, what next?  Destination post-natal depression?  Into action my brain sprang.  I couldn't sit and drink tea all day at home without Little Miss beside me.  I'd sob into it, and tea is too precious.  I couldn't get the bus to Little Miss, that would take hours, my milk would never survive.  That was it, I'd go back to uni.  I continue my studies (fortunately a week of lectures then shift work).  My brain was addled, but it was the best that I could reason.

It worked.  I successfully breastfed Little Miss, and continue to do so.  I have a fantastic relationship with my daughter; and a medical degree, completed less than a year after Little Misses dramatic entry into the world.

I survived.  Little Miss survived.  Daddy survived.