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From the age of twelve I was told I would never have children. I was born with two wombs, one ovary, half a bladder, and one kidney. I had five operations when I was twelve and they removed one of my wombs.

So you can imagine my surprise, then delight when at the age of twenty-three, the doctor told me I was pregnant. I can still see the look of joy on my mothers face when I told her.

Needless to say, because of my history the doctors went into a panic. After my first meeting they told me that I would not be able to carry the baby to full term.
"Your womb just isn't big enough," the doctor said.
I went home feeling numb. Surely if I was pregnant my body would work out a way to keep it. I went to bed and cried all night. Each morning I woke up expecting to loose my baby but the weeks passed and I was still pregnant.

I went to my twelve week scan and couldn't believe the tiny image on the screen. I could see its little heart beating so strongly. I put my hand on my stomach and made a mental promise that if the baby fought as hard as it could, I would do everything in my power to help it.

That night the hospital telephoned and said the had found something wrong with the babies spine. I spent yet another night in tears and returned to hospital in the morning. They scanned me again and decided that the baby was small for my dates but her spine seemed fine.
It was at this meeting that they told me I would loose my baby before I got to twenty-eight weeks because my womb was too small.

Week after week I went to the doctors and my baby grew slowly. As I approached twenty-eight weeks the doctors suddenly became hopeful. Now they told me that if I could carry the baby until then its lungs would have a chance of working on their own.

At my next hospital appointment the doctors told me that my baby wasn't growing. I was admitted to hospital on complete bed rest so all my energy could go into growing the baby. It was very tedious, but my baby was still there. I had a scan every week and was told that the baby would be two pounds at the most. This terrified me and my mum ordered lots of premature baby clothes.

Finally at thirty-four weeks the doctors decided to do a Cesarean section as they said the baby would grow easier outside of the womb. I remember the woozy feeling as I went to sleep, praying that my baby would be strong enough.
"You have a baby girl."
Those were the best words I ever heard. She weighed in at a massive six pounds, eleven ounces and didn't even need to go in an incubator. She was perfect.
I went on to have two more children, but none of my other pregnancies were anywhere near as traumatic as my first. My beautiful baby taught me not to give up. While there is life, there is hope.

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