Jemima: Premature Birth

[Under development 6 February 2005]
Owl rule: 0.5K

Jemima was born in March 1991 only 27 weeks from conception, instead of the usual 39 weeks. At birth she weighed 1.053kg, i.e. two ounces more than the weight of a (UK) bag of sugar. She fitted snugly onto the palm of my hand. She appeared to be perfectly formed, but much about her little body was premature. Her ears were like little flaps of delicately-shaped pink felt.

She spent the first six weeks of her life in the intensive care ward of Princess Mary Hospital (now closed) in Newcastle, UK, struggling to hold on to life. Her world was in an incubator, wired up to technology that makes the internet seem like pen and ink. Machines with visual displays and audible outputs monitored her breathing, her pulse, and the percentage of oxygen in her blood. Alarms would sound from time to time. Her lungs were so poorly-formed that when she cried it sounded like a sigh. At birth she was medicated with a revolutionary new drug (surform) to help her premature lungs mature more quickly. However, she became apnoeic (stopped breathing) on several occasions, and was intubated for a period of time to facilitate her regular breathing.

Her 'billyrubin' level departed too far from acceptable, and she was given UV treatment to prevent jaundice, bright purple lamps illuminating her incubator. She failed to gain weight for periods of time. She was 'fed' intravenously at least once: a risky procedure with a high possibility of infection, leading to potentially fatal complications. She survived. To aid her stamina, she was given blood transfusions on two occasions, which thankfully put some colour back into her cheeks.

Other children born at that time were less fortunate. The mortality rate was high. Some died still in hospital, empty parents in attendance, accompanied by a Roman Catholic priest performing last rites around a forlorn incubator. Others died after being taken home, from infections and complications, or they simply stopped breathing. In the presence of such fragility, life, hanging on every click of a breathing monitor click, alert to the blood-oxygen alarm, feels very precious.

After six weeks, Jemima was transported by ambulance to the special care nursery of Dryburn Hospital, Durham, UK. The twenty mile journey set her back by at least a week. However, the following six weeks in Durham were punctuated with signs of gradual improvement. Jemima left hospital the day on which she should have been born.

My father died shortly after Jemima's first birthday.

Bubbles rule: 0.2K

  p.g.h@btinternet.com