For the last three months of my last pregnancy, it was noted that she was not growing well. They suspected IUGR. My baby was not thriving as expected. My body was failing her. I was failing her. And as much as I grasped onto every tiny increase at every painful growth scan, I knew that it wasn’t enough.
She wasn’t growing enough.
They sliced my belly at 37 weeks and 5 days. They plucked her from the warmth and swept her away. They did their tests with dad watching on and they concluded. Yes, IUGR. Yes, she hadn’t been growing well.
They don’t know why. My placenta could have been sent for testing in the hope of some answers for future pregnancies… But this was the last one. The last time my belly would swell with life. The last time little feet would poke out from within. The last time I give myself over to the making of a new person.
And so my placenta was sent on for a different kind of testing. So that the research team could identify markers that might show them why IUGR occurs, and so that they could work on figuring out better ways to prevent it, and treat it. And save babies.
And so although she wasn’t growing, we any have helped someone.
And into the world she came. Tiny but fierce. And though she lost a lot of weight initially, eventually she got the hang of this strange world and we in turn got used to her. And she kept on growing.
And while being in the 2nd centile meant that if you put Elsie in a room of 100 babies, 98 of them would be bigger than her, she has never let that stop her.
And knowing now that she has made it to the 9th centile is an amazing feeling. Now only 91 babies ahead of her.
Everything was so bleak for so long. But she is growing. Her world is growing. And, oh my goodness is our love growing too. Every. Single. Day.
There is still time to vote for me as best pregnancy blog in the MAD blog awards. I want to raise more awareness of IUGR and your vote could help me to do that. Please click here to vote, thank you x