I actually went into labour while I was teaching my year four class. I didn’t think anything of it at first so just I went into the staff room as normal. I remember really clearly – even though it was eight years ago – saying ‘I think I’m in labour’. My friends said I was being ridiculous!
I had a 45-minute commute to work, so I just got in my car and drove home. I was in a lot of pain and discomfort, but I still didn’t think much of it. I just had my tea as normal. But then, when I stood up after tea, my waters broke. I remember calling Lincoln Hospital’s assessment unit and saying, ‘I think my waters have broken’.
They told me I was too early, and that I’d probably got a severe water infection—or that I’d wet myself. They told me not to rush but to make sure I got there before 9 pm, as it would be harder to get into the assessment unit later on. I grabbed my notes, my phone, and some clothes, and my husband and I made our way to the hospital. When they examined me, I was already five centimetres dilated.
That part is a bit of a blur, but I remember being injected to slow the labour down. They told me I was too early to deliver there in Lincoln, so they’d need to blue-light me to another hospital. They said my husband couldn’t come in the ambulance, which was really traumatic for both of us. I arrived at the Jessop Wing in Sheffield at 2am. Thirty-six hours later, Arlo finally arrived.
The Jessop Wing was amazing. The staff were nurturing and supportive, and I built a good relationship with the nurses. They put me in a charity flat nearby, and the Bliss volunteer there was brilliant. But my husband had to go back to Lincoln for work on Saturday, just a few days after Arlo was born. It was such a traumatic experience for him too. He was trapped between the bed where I gave birth and where they were resuscitating Arlo, who didn’t breathe for 15 minutes after he was born. Then he had to leave us behind and go back to work like everything was normal.
He’s a bit of a closed book and he found it really hard to deal with everything. He’s very good at getting on with things and keeping busy. He’s always been the best dad, and he really is now, but at that time, he was just coping in the only way he knew how.
His company wasn’t supportive at all. From past experience, we knew they wouldn’t accommodate him needing time off. We didn’t even know how to approach the idea of unpaid leave, and we hadn’t planned for anything like this financially. Arlo arrived over three months early, and it really wasn’t an option for my husband to take time off. He worked six days a week, so Sundays were the only day he could come to Sheffield.
We spent seven weeks in Sheffield before being transferred back to Lincoln for another seven weeks. Arlo had two operations during that time at Queen’s Medical Centre in Nottingham. Each time he was transferred through the night by ambulance, and I wasn’t allowed to go with him. My husband couldn’t get time off work, so I’d be up at 5am to drive to Nottingham to meet the ambulance.
It was really hard not having my husband there when Arlo needed us both. The long days next to the incubator were so lonely, and I really missed having my husband’s company. He’s my calm person, my anchor, and I felt so guilty being with Arlo while on maternity leave, knowing my husband couldn’t be there. Relaying updates back to him, especially when Arlo had a bad day, was awful. I just kept thinking, ‘He should be here too. We should be facing this together.’
I felt really robbed of my maternity leave. Arlo was exactly nine months old when he went to nursery, and I still had to go back to work. I remember one of the consultants at Lincoln Hospital telling me he shouldn’t be going to nursery because he’d been on home oxygen until he was seven months old. But we didn’t have any other choice. We had no family support, and I needed to go back to work. That stress really weighed on me, and I think the consultant shouldn’t have said that because it just made me feel worse when we were already out of options.
Arlo was always poorly in nursery, and I had so many days off work because of it. Looking back, I think if he’d had that extra time to get stronger, maybe things would’ve been different. We’ve been very fortunate, though. The only long-lasting effect has been asthma, which isn’t too bad considering the condition he was in when he was born.
We would have loved to have more children, but the experience we had, and me having to go back to work so soon, made the decision so much harder. I think the neonatal leave the Blissed pushed for will make such a difference for families. It’s that comfort blanket, knowing someone has your back. They’re like a middle ground between you and the hospital, especially if you feel like you’re not being listened to.
I was lucky to have a really positive experience in Sheffield with Arlo. The Bliss volunteer there was incredible—she was like a comfort blanket. She always had a smile on her face, always made time for me. But there wasn’t a Bliss volunteer at Lincoln Hospital, and I could’ve really done with one there too, just to talk to and share my thoughts with. The support from the charity is amazing, and the work they do shows how much they care about parents going through this journey.
