Shanelle

** TRIGGER WARNING. THIS BLOG POST INCLUDES DISCUSSION OF TRAUMATIC AND DIFFICULT BIRTHING EXPERIENCES WHICH SOME READERS MAY FIND DISTRESSING **

I’m Shannelle & this is my story. 

July, 2016. 

I was a little over 20 weeks pregnant at the time and so excited. I would take note of his every move. How he wriggled and the occasional stab in the rib with his cute little feet. As an expecting mother that movement becomes comforting and assurance of the life to come so the minute you feel a slight change fear creeps in. 

Considering my baby was very active I was sure something was wrong. I called the hospital and said I wanted to come in. They told me to wait for 24 hours. In all that time I felt no movement I was so worried I didn’t even care to wait the 24hrs. Within another 6 hours. I called again frantically crying that something is wrong. I was told to come in and within 10 minutes of arriving at the antenatal assessment unit I was called in to see a doctor who took a handheld doppler to my belly and said baby’s heart is beating just fine. There was no other observations carried out, not even an ultrasound...just you’re good to go miss. 

This felt wrong. In every sense of the word. But the way the scenario had panned out, I already seemed like that hyper-emotional black woman worried about nothing and I let that silence me. I really wish in this moment I expressed my concern or spoke up, because I honestly couldn’t have fathomed that what happened next would come. 

August 2nd, 2016 

It was about 5am in the morning, I work as a carer so was getting ready for another shift. But I was in quite a bit of pain and felt like I shouldn’t worry too much because they’re Braxton hicks. It’s way too early to have contractions. So I ignored it and went to work. When I had finished my with my first client and preceded to make my way to the next one, I had gone from being able to manage to being in excruciating pain and it was as this point I knew something was very wrong. 

As you can imagine I’m terrified, In pain and because I’m working in a quiet area I do my best to manage the discomfort and get to a busy street. Whilst I’m doing that I’m calling my partner frantically who is also at work close by to explain what’s happening but he’s not answering and I end up calling the ambulance. My partner and the ambulance arrive to me at the same time and we make our way to the hospital. 

As terrifying as everything was I still never ever thought it would escalate to what it did. I remember telling my then partner this isn’t how we planned for him to arrive but If it’s Gods will to bring him early then that’s how it will be. Unfortunately my memory from here onwards is a little loopy because of all the trauma and heavy emotions experienced. But as soon as we got to the hospital I remember feeling an intense need to push and just as we got to my room I insisted I needed the toilet which they said no to as baby’s head was visibly bearing down. 

I remember pushing and as soon as I did it was instant relief. But then the panic set in almost instantaneously as the nurses and doctors rushed the baby from between my legs to his little bed and instantly my heart sank because, he wasn’t crying and for five minutes no one said anything at all to me. 

Then the doctor turned with my little Noah all wrapped up and handed him to me saying I’m so sorry. 

When the post-Morterm came back it was noted that Noah had passed at 20 weeks gestation. There were tight coils in the chord and the suggestion was that blood flow was restricted from me to him resulting in loss of life. That fear that my son was not moving and something was seriously wrong was not misplaced and their negligence simply because they wanted me out the door almost cost me my life. I carried my son, still, for four weeks. This goes against the very nature of life and I’m very lucky to be alive. 

Thank you for this campaign and all the women who have shared their birth stories and experiences here with the UK healthcare system. There is still not enough research around Black women and pregnancy and what we can do to minimise the mortality rate, negligence goes unchecked, and we are left feeling like we can’t speak to anyone. So thank you for giving myself and many others a platform to speak up.