Lauren wasn’t a content baby in those first few days. I hadn’t seen her poo at all. I had this horrid niggling feeling that something was wrong with her bowels. How on earth could I know such a thing?? Well, I was right. On boxing day morning 2008 about 6am, Lauren threw up an illuminous green liquid. It freaked us out enough to know she needed help. I did not know, however, that this was bile. I’m sure I would have had an aneurysm had I known everything right that moment. Midwife of the day sent us back to hospital, they told us what it was and that it was a sign of a blocked bowel. It was at this point I knew we were in for a rough ride. It was also at this point I knew my little girl was a bit like her mummy and let the world know when she wasn’t happy. She was in Neonates in Airedale General Hospital, and she needed a cannula putting in. She fought and fought! I was at the end of the corridor in a parents room because the nurse said I shouldn’t watch it really. Jonathan had to go move the car and call some people. Mum hadn’t arrived yet. I was totally alone. Confused. In floods of tears. I didn’t know how I was supposed to feel, and even questioned myself, should I be tougher than this?! Crazy emotions. The nurse came in finally and with a bit of a laugh (not insensitive) and told me it took 4 of them to get the cannula in. I was secretly thrilled that she had such a fight in her.

She was Blue lighted over to Leeds General Infirmary an hour or so later. I watched them wheel my tiny baby off in an incubator, not allowed to go with her, not allowed to follow the ambulance. I couldn’t stop crying. Jonathan was holding up OK until we left that hospital. It was a dark dark day. We knew very little. and in hind sight, we really knew nothing.

We got to LGI and finally found where she was. When we got in we saw her hooked up to IV anti biotics and in a little plastic bed thingy. No one had warned us that we could stay over night with her so we had nothing with us. Idiots! (them, not us).

Lauren needed bowel surgery. We knew that. We didn’t know why, just that something wasn’t quite right.

We heard from a Registrar, nurses etc, but had to wait until the next day to meet the surgeon who would be performing the surgery. X-rays were done. Lots of talk. Right here was when, if at all, I felt a little bit of assurance that she would be OK. We met the surgeon, who does need a mention, Mr Powis; he was so large in stature, slightly arrogant, confident and I felt, in control of this. I felt she was sort of safe. I did not think at all about what he would actually be doing. At least not at the fore front of my imagination. It was too much. But this guy, he was meant to be the guy who looked after ‘madam’ as he so lovingly called her. He didn’t know what he was going to find, because the x-rays weren’t clear enough for anyone to decipher. This was his job though, and I felt safe knowing that.

The whole way through this, looking back on it, I really didn’t think about much too deeply. I was so caught up in the middle of emotions that I could only handle the here and now. I’m sort of glad. That’s not my philosophy now, but I’m glad it was then.

Handing her to the anaesthetist; well I couldn’t. My body wouldn’t physically allow me to pick her up safely. I was holding all my emotions in so that I wasn’t a complete mess around Lauren. So Jonathan  carried her and held her whilst I kissed her head and smelled her. Then we watched as she was carried off into surgery. And I couldn’t control myself any more whilst we walked out of the hospital utterly devastated and having to wait whilst we hoped someone was saving her life.