Following a motor vehicle accident in 1983, I was diagnosed with C4/5 quadriplegia. Three days after the accident I was grieving for my lost (unborn) baby who had his life terminated because of my wreckless driving. A 20 year old, fertile woman, I had been geared for motherhood. Now, suddenly I was clueless as to my future capacity for child bearing, or if I was even going to be capable to participate as a parent.
Dilemma over my ignorance of ‘quad parenting’, was scary and daunting to say the least. Too many silent questions followed for my dizzy brain to comprehend. This was mainly due to the generous shots of morphine that were administered back then. Dr Anthony strongly recommended that my decision to get pregnant again (as soon as possible) go on hold for two years, until my body came to terms with quadriplegia.
After my release from the SI unit I set out like a sponge to water searching books and medical archives to try and learn from others’ experiences, but kept coming up empty handed. Two years lapsed and I let the alarm ring for productivity to begin. The news of my positive pregnancy result renewed within me a feeling I’d forgotten I had, the ‘NEEDED’ one.
A month later, the reality of life as a pregnant quad. began to set in. I had had a little morning sickness with my first pregnancy, but this was extreme, and different. Dr Anthony, at no time, discouraged or doubted my ability to produce and deliver. At four months, I was put under the eye of a careful caring Prof. Duff at our local Hospital, & fortnightly visits were scheduled with this extraordinary man. Our visits consisted of a scan, ob’s and reassuring pictures from the scan printer (on A4 paper) to take home. My presence in the waiting room was an eye opener for the walking mum’s to be. I sat looking at eyes of wonderment, hearing the un-asked questions and addressing the occasional comment from the bravest.
The foetus thrived despite the small amount of food I was able to consume. An ever-growing stomach deprived me of desperately needed oxygen as the pregnancy progressed. My diaphragm, as for any quadriplegic, needed all the space it could get for adequate oxygen intake and I struggled more each day. Little feet and fists frequently kicked my bladder, causing my urine to bypass my suprapubic catheter consequently urethral drainage was not a rarity. I passed out numerous times daily and felt nauseous for the duration of the pregnancy. During the last six weeks my partner injected me twice daily with a blood thinning drug called Heparin. Wearing tuby grip stockings also helped to prevent clots.
December 1 1986, was the day a beautiful son changed my world. He was three weeks early, so thankfully the quickest route to the Hospital had been well rehearsed. I experienced intense head pain with each contraction during our 30 min drive to the hospital and was administered pethadine almost on arrival. Just three hours later, my body heaved the most intense spasms I’ve ever experienced and with the help of forceps I vaginally delivered a healthy 8LB 4oz boy, and that was the last time I had my child all to myself. (That last statement brings raw emotions to the fore as it’s a hard experience to share motherhood with other people. Only a non “hands-on” Mum can truly appreciate that he was wrenched from me in more ways than one that day.) I was blessed to have overwhelming support from my family and friends, which allowed me the very enjoyable responsibility of actively participating in his upbringing, to the best of my ability.
He is now 20, stands 6′3″ and is a typical ‘disabled persons’ child. ‘Caring, compassionate and loyal. He truly understands the meaning of ‘keeping it real’. As a result of this massive life changing experience it is evident to me now that maternity is part of being a woman. Therefore I ‘own’ my decision to be a mother as my absolute right.
