Edward's Backstory
In loving memory of
Edward Benjamin Spalding
21.5.21 - 23.5.21
Edward was planned and very eagerly awaited. My second child. I had a very simple, enjoyable pregnancy with no problems. My due date came and went, and I was booked in to be induced the day before I was 42 weeks. However, that day came and the hospital were busy and short staffed, so I was told to come tomorrow instead. That's when everything went wrong.
That night I woke an hour after going to bed in pain, thinking labour had finally started by itself. I was so excited, timing my contractions, knowing I would meet my baby boy soon. After a while I realised I hadn't felt him moving, and couldn't remember if I had since lunch time, so I rang the hospital and then headed straight there.
I arrived at the hospital and was immediately put on the CTG monitor, where we heard that Edward's heart rate was low. Within minutes, I was surrounded by different medical professionals being prepped for a Category 1 section. I heard Edward's heart beating right up until I lay down after having the spinal injection.
Edward was born silently a few moments later, on the 21st May 2021. He had to be resuscitated for 6 minutes before they got his heart beating. As his brain was starved of oxygen for so long, he developed Hypoxic Ischemic Encephalopathy (HIE). He was taken to the neonatal unit, and I wasn't allowed to see him until several hours later. I was then told that Edward was incredibly poorly, and needed to be transferred to Newcross Hospital for cooling therapy, to try and prevent his brain damage getting worse. I was made aware that he might not survive the journey.
Edward did survive the journey, although had problems on the way. I was transferred to the same hospital as him that evening, and when I arrived I was very hopeful. Edward looked so much better, there were less tubes and wires on him, and he had his eyes open. He was still having seizures and was very poorly, but I allowed myself to believe that he was going to be ok.
The following morning, the doctors grouped by his bed, and looked at him and his machines sadly and silently. They then discussed his brain damage, and I knew what they were saying. I told my mom to come immediately. When my mom arrived, we were called into a room and told the devastating news that Edward was not going to get better. He had no brain activity. I had to make the decision that no parent ever should, to let my beautiful baby go. That afternoon my daughter and my dad were allowed to come to the hospital to meet Edward. I was able to hold him for the first time, we bathed and dressed him, and took prints of his hands and feet whilst making memories with him. I slept by his side that night, knowing I would have to say goodbye in the morning.
On the 23rd May I was holding Edward and asked to have skin to skin with him. I watched his monitors show his condition getting worse and worse, so gave the doctors the go ahead to withdraw the tubes keeping him alive. I was then able to hold him properly, wire free. He opened his eyes and looked at me shortly before he passed away in my arms.
Losing Edward has left a massive hole. I am so heartbroken, but he will always be a massive part of my life. I will love him forever. 🧡🦊
That night I woke an hour after going to bed in pain, thinking labour had finally started by itself. I was so excited, timing my contractions, knowing I would meet my baby boy soon. After a while I realised I hadn't felt him moving, and couldn't remember if I had since lunch time, so I rang the hospital and then headed straight there.
I arrived at the hospital and was immediately put on the CTG monitor, where we heard that Edward's heart rate was low. Within minutes, I was surrounded by different medical professionals being prepped for a Category 1 section. I heard Edward's heart beating right up until I lay down after having the spinal injection.
Edward was born silently a few moments later, on the 21st May 2021. He had to be resuscitated for 6 minutes before they got his heart beating. As his brain was starved of oxygen for so long, he developed Hypoxic Ischemic Encephalopathy (HIE). He was taken to the neonatal unit, and I wasn't allowed to see him until several hours later. I was then told that Edward was incredibly poorly, and needed to be transferred to Newcross Hospital for cooling therapy, to try and prevent his brain damage getting worse. I was made aware that he might not survive the journey.
Edward did survive the journey, although had problems on the way. I was transferred to the same hospital as him that evening, and when I arrived I was very hopeful. Edward looked so much better, there were less tubes and wires on him, and he had his eyes open. He was still having seizures and was very poorly, but I allowed myself to believe that he was going to be ok.
The following morning, the doctors grouped by his bed, and looked at him and his machines sadly and silently. They then discussed his brain damage, and I knew what they were saying. I told my mom to come immediately. When my mom arrived, we were called into a room and told the devastating news that Edward was not going to get better. He had no brain activity. I had to make the decision that no parent ever should, to let my beautiful baby go. That afternoon my daughter and my dad were allowed to come to the hospital to meet Edward. I was able to hold him for the first time, we bathed and dressed him, and took prints of his hands and feet whilst making memories with him. I slept by his side that night, knowing I would have to say goodbye in the morning.
On the 23rd May I was holding Edward and asked to have skin to skin with him. I watched his monitors show his condition getting worse and worse, so gave the doctors the go ahead to withdraw the tubes keeping him alive. I was then able to hold him properly, wire free. He opened his eyes and looked at me shortly before he passed away in my arms.
Losing Edward has left a massive hole. I am so heartbroken, but he will always be a massive part of my life. I will love him forever. 🧡🦊
