Scariest week of our lives

 As parents, our lives are constantly filled with worry, anxiety, and panic. Every little fall, every new skill, those wobbly first steps. It doesn't end. 

When Nyla was just 3 months old, i noticed that she had a lump under her ribs. Thinking i was just being paranoid, i sent pictures to family and friends. I had a feel and it felt hard and round. We all know what google can be like, so i didn't even bother scaring myself. 

I booked her in for a doctors appointment, and a few days later we were there. 

Despite this lump, she wasn't unwell, in any pain, or seemed to even notice if it was touched. The doctors thought maybe it could be an extra rib, or some form of bone. They said perhaps an xray could be arranged, but it didn't feel like anything to worry about. 

A few days later the gp called me back. She said she hadn't been able to stop thinking about it, and wanted me to get her seen. She said she had spoken with someone at the hospital, who would be in touch to arrange having a look. 

The very next day, the hospital rang me. I described it best i could over the phone, and she had of course spoken with Nylas doctor beforehand. She asked that i take Nyla down to A&E as soon as i could, and she would have a look. 

To have this moving so fast and being told to bring her in straight away, worry flooded my mind. I was home alone with her at the time, her dad in work, so i had to make phone calls and get him to meet us there. 

I got a taxi down to A&E and it wasn't long before we were seen by the doctor. She had a good feel, and said she would like an ultrasound to be done right away. I asked if she had any idea what it could be, and all she could tell me was that it didn't feel like anything nasty. 

The wait for the ultrasound felt like a lifetime. Dominic was with us now, and my family and friends were checking in for updates, worrying too but trying to reassure me. 

Finally the results were back in, and we were taken into another room. 

We were told that the ultrasound results, had come back inconclusive. They still didn't have any idea what it could be. For this reason, they wanted us to stay in overnight, and have an MRI done the next day. 

I felt like there was something i wasn't being told. I didn't want to have to stay in there with her. I wanted to take my baby home. 

The MRI was booked for the next afternoon, and so it was just a wait until then. 

We had doctors and nurses coming in every few hours to check her obs. No one could tell us any more information. 

That night we were informed that in order to do the MRI, we were going to have to deny her fluids from 3am until after her operation. I didn't know how i was going to starve a 3 month old baby. We were then told, that although the scan was on the list, if an emergency came up, then we would move down the list so it wasn't even a guarantee it would be the next day. 

Hearing her crying for food was breaking my heart. We were allowed to give her a clear drink, which she didn't like too much. Of course, the scan didn't take place that day. We were told the next day. 

Thankfully this time it happened. The nurses came and explained that they would need to put her to sleep to do this one. It would be a little fluid she would have, that would just put her into a sleep. No anesthetic or anything. 

They came round to do it, and i had to walk away. I wanted to be there, i wanted her to know i was right by her side. But her screaming in pain as they put needles in her, my already breaking point anxiety, i just couldn't. I had to let her dad do it. When i came back onto the ward, she was asleep. 

For this scan, we were allowed to be in the room, a safe distance back, with ear protection. We watched her go through the polo mint machine, and sat and waited. 

She came round from this fine, and somehow was her usual self, just very hungry. 

We had to wait a bit for the results to come, which meant longer stay in hospital. With the weekend coming up, we knew it would likely be a couple more days. 

Finally the results were back, and again, they were no clearer. We still had no idea what this lump was. All anyone could tell me was "it doesn't feel like anything nasty". I don't know if they thought that was reassuring, but to a first time mum, i was panicking. What did it feel like then? 

What felt like days later, someone came to speak to us, pulling the curtain behind him. I looked over at Dominic, and then to my little baby, wires in her arm, and i wanted to cry. 

He told me that they would move onto the next option, which would be a biopsy. They would put her to sleep again, and remove a small section of the lump, which would be sent off for testing. They didn't know how long it would be for results to come back, but we would be allowed home while we wait. If this biopsy came back and showed anything nasty, then they could remove the lump and go from there. There hope, and they said they had high hopes, was that it was nothing and just benign. 

The decision was then changed by the next morning, and they decided they were just going to remove it. 

My poor baby girl was going to have to be put back to sleep again, this time with anesthesia, and cut open. 

I was in bits. Worry, fear, and feeling so sorry for my baby. 

We were told we could be there when they put her to sleep again, but then this was changed and we had to wait until she came out of theater. 

It felt like a lifetime waiting for them to come and get us. I was a mess. My phone hadn't stopped with family worrying and checking on me. 

We were taken down to theater recovery, and i will never forget that day. 

Nyla was never a crier really. Not unless she needed something. This cry that she had right then, was croaky, in pain, and a cry i had never heard her make before. They let me hold her and i started crying myself. She was so small, and had just been through so much. She stopped crying when she knew momma was there, and we were allowed to hold her for a moment before wheeling her back down to the ward. 

They told us they had removed the full lump, nothing was left behind, and that it measured 3x2cm. She would have a scar, but as she was so young and small, hopefully it will just shrink as she grows. 

Back on the ward and left alone as a family, i knew i had to see it. I peeled back the blanket and cried again. My poor girl. 

They attached a machine to her, which would monitor her heart and breathing. It would sound an alarm if she stopped breathing, and alert the nurses. Twice that alarm rang. I thought my legs were going to buckle underneath me. I have never been so scared in my life. They said the machine was faulty, and she was soon off it, as she had other monitors on her anyway. 

Soon we were allowed home, and i have never been happier to be in my house with her. No more machines and wires, and doctors coming in every minute checking on her. Home where she knew and was happier. 

I was amazed by her in the hospital. Her strength was incredible. She didn't seem fazed by what was happening. Stuck in a hospital ward, away from home, and she was still her smiley self, minus the day she was starved and post op. 

It was a bit of a wait to get the results back, but i am so thankful that they came back fine. We were told it was just a benign tumor, which can happen, and that it wasn't cancerous or anything like that. We were put under an outpatients doctor, who we see every 6 months, incase any more could appear. Due to there being no clear explanation of why it was there in the first place, i'm glad that someone is keeping an eye on her. 

There is honestly nothing worse than your baby being in hospital. Than having no answers for what is going on. I pray for all the mothers who have had to go through this and have the worst outcome. I can't even imagine the feeling.