Blew up like a balloon!
Sara pushed so hard in labour she burst a lung!
Saturday 5th July 2008
There were no two ways about it, at this particular moment in time, I didn't look my best. But that was the last thing on my mind, as I gritted my teeth, arched my back and dug my nails into my boyfriend Adrian's hand.
'Come on!' Adrian, 24, urged. 'Just one more push! You can do it!'
I was exhausted, drained and drenched in sweat. But, somehow, I had one final push in me.
I started panting and my mum, Margaret, 43, gave me an encouraging smile.
'You can do it!' she grinned.
She was right. I couldn't give up. I locked eyes with Adrian, tightened my grip on his hand, then with one last almighty yell, I pushed so hard, I felt like I'd come apart at the seams. Suddenly, high-pitched screams filled the room, telling me that it was finally all over. As I collapsed back onto the bed, the midwife held my baby up.
'It's a boy,' she smiled.
We'd decided on the name Rhydian and, as I looked at him, 7lb 10oz of chubby, pink flesh, I felt an overwhelming rush of love.Then, I felt something else…My face and neck were tingling. I tried to ignore it at first, but it was getting worse by the second. Something's not right, I thought, as Adrian cut the umbilical cord and Rhydian was placed on my chest in a blanket.The midwives stitched me up, then left us alone.
'It's a boy! It's a boy!' Adrian said, over and over again.
Don't get me wrong, I was excited too but, by now, my face was tingling so much, I couldn't concentrate on anything else. Come to think of it, as well as the tingling, it was beginning to feel tight, like when you put a face pack on and leave it too long. I gently put my fingers to my cheek, and the skin seemed to crackle when I touched it.
'Mum,' I said nervously.
'Does my face look funny?'
She tore her eyes away from Rhydian and looked up at me. Her mouth fell open...'Sara!' she gasped. 'Your face is really big!'
Adrian quickly peered out from behind the camera phone he had focused on our new son to see what all the fuss was about.
'You do look a bit puffy,' he agreed, looking worried.
'Take a picture so I can see,' I barked at him.
Adrian snapped me on his phone, then gave it to me.
'Oh my God!' I cried.
I knew the sight of me giving birth hadn't been pretty, but this was just hideous. My face, neck and chest had swollen up beyond recognition.
'You look like Johnny Vegas!' Mum gasped.
'I'll get the midwife,' said Adrian.
I felt like a blown-up balloon that was about to pop.
'What's wrong with me?' I asked the midwife, when she came in.
'I don't know,' she replied, dashing to get a colleague.
But the second midwife didn't know. Neither did the doctor. I lay there as they poked and prodded my face.
'It's weird,' one of them said. 'When I press your skin, it crackles and goes in, then bounces back like a sponge.'
But suddenly, my skin was the least of my worries, because now, I was finding it hard to breathe. It felt like my throat was getting tight, and my voice
was raspy.
'I sound like Darth Vader!' I croaked.
'You'll be fine,' Adrian smiled, but he looked terrified.
I'd certainly never have pictured this scene when we'd got together two years
earlier, on a night out in Barry. We hadn't been trying for kids, but 16 months later, I'd been having tests for an ongoing stomach complaint, when the doctors discovered I was pregnant. It was a shock, but we were both over the moon.The pregnancy had gone well, but now it was 30 June 2007, and here
I was, lying in Llandough Hospital, Penarth, like a big balloon, and no one seemed to know how or why this had happened.
Eventually, another doctor came in to examine me.
'I'm transferring you to the University of Wales hospital, Cardiff,' he said. 'They have more facilities there.'
Rhydian came with me in the ambulance, while Adrian followed behind in his car. There, they checked over Rhydian and prescribed me paracetamol for the swelling. The next morning, we were discharged. But back at home,
I rushed straight to the mirror.
'I'm still blown-up,' I gasped to Adrian.
'I'm sure you'll go down soon, love,' he reassured me.
'Either that or I'll pop,' I snapped.
One day passed. Then another. And still the swelling wasn't going down.
So, three days later, I was readmitted to Llandough Hospital. This time, a different doctor examined me.
'I think you've suffered a surgical emphysema,' he said. 'You pushed
so hard in labour, you burst a lung.'
A chest X-ray confirmed it, and the doctor explained that the exertion of labour had burst my lung and air had escaped out of the pin-hole-sized tear, into my chest cavity and under my skin.
'So I really have blown up like a balloon,' I gasped.
He nodded.
'The tear has already fixed itself, so the air will go down of its own accord,' he added.
In the meantime, I just had to put up with looking like the Michelin man.
Back at home, it was four weeks before the swelling went down completely.
Now, 10 months on, I'm back at work part-time at an after-school club and Adrian and I are enjoying being parents. However, if we think about having more kids, I'll have to be under specialist care to make sure I don't inflate again. But I suppose, on the bright side, we're all happy and healthy. And at least I know now, that what blows up will, eventually, go down!