Docs were pointing at the ultrasound screen, telling Ceri it was her baby. So why didn't she believe them?
Struggling to take in what the doctor said, I grappled with my new reality.
‘So, I’ll never be a parent?’ I asked.
‘I’m afraid the cysts are on both of your ovaries and some are 3cm,’ he explained. ‘This is
a severe case of polycystic
ovary syndrome and it’s very unlikely that you’ll ever have children naturally.’
I was just 16 and had first come in to see my GP after experiencing a month-long period.
I’d been given
a smear test and, when that was clear, was sent for an ultrasound.
I’d now come back for the results…
There was no cure and no
real treatment for polycystic ovary syndrome.
Coming from a big family, I’d always dreamt of being a mum one day.
Now that would never happen.
In the years that followed, I was seen by a specialist gynaecologist who suggested
I try a gluten-free diet.
I did, dropping over three stone in weight.
Plus, I was put on the contraceptive pill.
But my periods remained erratic.
Sometimes I wouldn’t have one for ages, other times I’d be bleeding for weeks.
When I was 28, I met a wonderful man, Jack.
'That's definitely not me'
‘There’s no chance of me ever having kids,’ I told him when we’d been together a few weeks.
Jack already had a daughter, Daisy, and took the news in his stride.
As time passed, Jack and
I grew closer.
Though I knew there was no chance of falling pregnant, I took my Pill religiously, never missing a single one.
‘I’m a bit tired,’ I complained one evening after a shift at the hospital where I worked.
‘Early night
then?’ Jack suggested.
I didn’t think much more of it, even as the tiredness persisted.
A few months later, I
turned 30.
To celebrate, I went for a meal with friends and family.
‘Cheers,’ I grinned, lifting my gin into the air.
I wasn’t much of a drinker but I wanted to celebrate
in style.
Next morning, I woke with
a pounding head.
Soon after, Jack whisked me off for a night away to mark my milestone birthday.
Again, I had a few tipples and woke up with a really
sore head.
‘Hangovers hit harder now that I’m on the wrong side of 30,’ I laughed.
A month on though, I started feeling really unwell without even drink to blame.
Suffering a sore back and needing the loo regularly, I suspected I had a kidney infection.
I was prone to them and had suffered a few over the years.
‘I’m afraid we can’t get you in for a week,’ my GP explained when I called for an appointment.
By then I’d started working as wait-list manager at another hospital.
As I worked one morning,
the pain in my back grew overwhelming.
I was feeling sick too.
‘I’m just going over to A&E,’ I told my colleagues.
There, I was given urine and blood tests.
Sitting on a hospital bed waiting for the results, I must have dropped off.
When I awoke, a nurse was pulling back the curtain that surrounded my bed.
‘Your hCG level is over 11,000,’ she explained.
I had no idea what that meant.
‘Is something wrong?’ I puzzled.
‘No,’ she smiled. ‘You’re pregnant.’
Gobsmacked, I shook my head.
‘No, I can’t be,’ I insisted. ‘That’s definitely not me.’
‘It is,’ she said.
I couldn’t believe it.
I hadn’t had a period in three years!
I’d always believed that falling pregnant would never be possible for me.
Lying me down on the bed, the nurse asked me to lift my top and had a feel of my flat stomach.
It was strange.
Though I still weighed around my usual 10 stone, I had noticed my clothes were getting a little tighter in recent weeks.
But I definitely didn’t have a bump.
‘You’re really early,’ she smiled. ‘Definitely under 12 weeks.’
Still in shock, I waited for Jack to finish work and headed to the train station to meet him.
‘So…’ I began. ‘You know I haven’t been feeling well?’
He nodded.
‘Well, I went to A&E today… and I’m pregnant!’ I blurted.
Jack’s eyes widened.
‘But you can’t have kids!’ he gasped.
‘I know,’ I replied. ‘That’s what I thought.’
Once the news had sunk in, we hugged each other close.
We were both delighted, and eagerly waited for a letter to arrive, scheduling our first scan.
But just two days after finding out we were to be parents, the pain in my back became worse than ever.
I was scheduled for an urgent scan that same day.
As I lay back on the bed, I looked at the screen.
Must be the baby from the woman before, I thought, as a fully formed face stared back at me.
My baby would be tiny, a little blob.
‘So, you’re 21 weeks and five days along,’ the sonographer smiled.
My mouth gaped in shock.
That wasn’t someone else’s baby — that was mine.
I was five months gone!
I’d had no morning sickness, no bump, nothing.
But somehow, I’d sailed through nearly the first two trimesters.
It was June and the sonographer estimated I was due in mid October.
‘I can tell you the sex if you’d like,’ she continued.
I nodded excitedly.
'We better tell our families'
‘It’s a girl,’ she confirmed.
In just 48 hours,
I had gone from believing I’d never have kids, to expecting a little girl in just four months’ time.
I called Jack and let him know that the surprises had carried
on coming.
‘Well, we’d better tell our families then,’ he cheered.
We’d wanted to get our heads around it first, but now there was no time.
Everyone was thrilled and rallied around us.
Luckily, despite not having had the usual prenatal care, further scans showed our daughter was perfectly healthy.
Even once I knew I was expecting, I had the easiest pregnancy.
Those growing pains I’d put down to a kidney infection cleared up and I felt on top of the world.
When I was eight months along, friends and family threw me a baby shower and gifted us everything we could possibly need.
Jack and I also found a flat and moved in together.
Before we knew it, I was induced due to high blood pressure, two days after my due date.
As our 7lb 8oz baby daughter was delivered, both Jack and I wept with joy.
‘She really is a miracle,’ I sobbed, cradling her for the
first time.
Our precious little one had even been born on Jack’s mum’s birthday.
The very best gift.
We decided to name her Millie.
She is now a sweet, alert five-month-old.
The minute her dad or I walk into a room, she’s all smiles.
‘Such a little character,’ Jack grins, doting on her.
Daisy is a wonderful big sister and none of us can imagine life without Millie.
She may have been a shock, but she was absolutely meant
to be.
Ceri Wilson, 30, Clydebank, West Dunbartonshire