Kate Williams

What do you mean you don’t want to make your own blood bag?! Nice bit of crochet anyone?? Tsk…. people today….ok, so here’s the story of why I’m supporting The Blood Bag Project and then hopefully you’ll all want to join in with a little craft project of your own.

When I was pregnant with my eldest child I had one of those gloriously uneventful pregnancy’s. Yes, I had morning sickness, was knackered and just generally felt bleugh, but my midwife appointments were always done in super quick time and there were no issues. I was happy, and who wouldn’t be?

The issue was in actually giving birth. I joked for years that we wouldn’t have kids as there was no way a child was coming out of ‘down there’ and typically the joke backfired. Due date came and went and still I was sat on my sofa eating cheese on toast and watching Top Gear on Dave. Eventually the induction was booked and 13 days overdue husband and I braved the snow storms and toddled along to the hospital.

13 days overdue – Prostaglandin. No sign of labour but ‘Help, I’m a Celebrity’ is hotting up.

14 days overdue – morning – Get doctor to break my waters. Surely the baby will arrive now? Having had 5 weeks at home with only mumsnet and Jeremy Clarkson for company (possibly not a common mixture) I have scoured the advice and figured that if I’m not getting my lovely water hippy birth then I want industrial amounts of drugs please. Refuse Syntocinon until I get an epidural, thus pleasantly avoiding any of that rather nasty sounding contraction stuff. Erstwhile doctor still decides though that he cba with a tourniquet and uses a rubber glove, squirting my blood all over the room. Nice.

14 days overdue – lunchtime – Contractions apparently quite hard. Read interesting article in Grazia.

14 days overdue – dinnertime –  Midwives crank drip right up. Not much on tele is there…

14 days overdue – evening – body refusing to comply, not dilating, fed up, nothing on tele, read all magazines, agree to c-section

15 days overdue – in for the c-section, doctors open me up, pull out baby, and then, umm, I’m not quite sure. Because at this point I start to do what I think is fall asleep due to my rather long day reading magazines, but which I’m reliably informed is more likely to be due to me blacking out due to blood loss.

I lost five pints. My husband got told that they ‘wouldn’t like to promise’ that they could save me. I (when I was occasionally with it) got told that everything ‘should’ be ok, but there was a fair chance of losing my womb. I spent three hours on the operating table, which isn’t much fun when you also consider that the poor quality design means you can actually see whats going on reflected on the ceiling.

Anyway, I lived. Which is a good thing. It was a bit dicey for the first couple of days, and it was a while before I had the strength to look after my son, but my son was healthy which I am always grateful for, and if its a choice between me going through that and him then I choose me every time.

I did feel a bit funny though about the whole blood thing. Not enough to really justify talking about generally, and besides ‘I might have died but I didn’t’ seemed an unreasonable moan. But enough to occasionally stare out at the sea and just think that actually, if it hadn’t been for people who I don’t know and who I’ll never meet, my husband wouldn’t have a wife and my son would never get to see his mum.

So I’m thankful, but in a way that I can’t really put in words.

So this is why I’m supporting The Blood Bag Project. Because I can’t thank the people who helped me, but I can help someone else who needs help. If you would be so kind as to look at their website, read Chloe’s story and help to raise a bit of awareness, it would be much appreciated. And if you want to crochet your own blood bag, then that would be grand too.