Medical marvelOMG! Medical marvelOMG!

SURVIVED?Medical marvelOMG!

SURVIVED?SURVIVED?How has my miracle baby

6 OMG!

DETATCHED RETINAS

DOCTORS said there was no hope for Vicky Maple’s premature baby Samuel but the tiny warrior was preparing to fight the mother of all battles for his life...

‘It’s time for you to say goodbye to Sam,’ said the consultant.

‘I’m afraid there’s little to no chance that he’ll survive the operation,’ he said, bluntly.

Our baby boy had been born 10 days earlier. At less than 24 weeks, he was fragile and tiny – eight-inches long and weighing just 1lb 6oz.

‘But he could pull through, couldn’t he?’ I pleaded as the nurses prepared him for surgery on his perforated intestines.

‘I just can’t let him go,’ I sobbed as my husband Ben, 27, gave me a comforting hug.

‘We’ll do all we can,’ the medic reassured.

Sam looked so vulnerable, hooked up to numerous tubes and wires. His delicate, bruised skin looked almost transparent.

He was so small I could have fitted him in the palm of my hand. Not that I could touch him. He was too weak and since birth I’d never had the chance to cuddle him.

‘It’s killing me not to hold him. What if I never get the chance?’ I sobbed as they wheeled him off to theatre.

We’d been so excited about having our first child. But disaster struck when I was five months

day before the abortion threshold. ‘It’s a boy,’ said the nurse, and I was so relieved he’d been delivered. But he was silent. There was no cry.

‘Why isn’t he making a noise?’ I cried, as medics tried to resuscitate him – his lungs were so

pregnant. I felt a searing pain in my stomach. Ben rushed me to hospital and my waters broke in the car on the way.

‘How can the baby be coming now?’ I shrieked.

At the hospital I was given a concoction of pills to delay the birth and gain vital time for the baby’s underdeveloped organs to mature. That bought us just 36 hours.

Sam was born at 23 weeks and six days, a

underdeveloped he wasn’t breathing. The eerie silence continued for 20 minutes until Sam was whisked away.

When a medic came back he said: ‘We’ve got his lungs working, but he’s in an incubator. You can see him now.’

I felt relief mixed with alarm. Sam was fighting and this was his first victory.

But there were more battles to come. He’d stabilised but 24 hours later he took a turn for the worse.

‘It’s not looking good,’ said the nurse. He’d suffered a bleed on the brain, and his lungs had collapsed after filling with fluid and blood.

Again he stabilised after treatment. But the next day brought more bad news – Sam had a heart defect and would need an operation.

‘How much more can his little body take?’ I wept, as the doctors explained that a blood vessel, which connects two major arteries, had failed to close as it normally does after birth.

But the day before the operation, Sam’s belly became enlarged and turned dark blue.

He had a hole in his gut and needed an emergency two-hour operation. It was then that the consultant encouraged us to say our goodbyes.

‘Prepare yourself for the worst,’ he advised.

‘No, I’m not saying goodbye, he’s a fighter,’ I sobbed.

He’d been through so much already, I truly believed he could beat anything.

And I was right. The operation was successful.

Still I longed to hold him. It was distressing to see his stoma – his guts – brought outside his body to exit waste material.

Two days later, he had a second major operation to place a clamp on the open duct in his heart.

He stopped breathing a dozen times

TINY: Sam when he was born at just 24 weeks

FIGHTER: Sam with his mum

Vicky and dad Ben

SURVIVED?How has my miracle baby

OMG! 7

As to

ld to

Cla

ud

ia T

an

ner

BLOOD POISONING

SURGERY ON A MAJOR HEART DEFECTBLEED ON THE BRAIN

PERFORATED INTESTINES

LUNGS FAILED AT BIRTH AND FILLED WITH

BLOODPERFORATED

HOLE IN HIS GUTDETATCHED RETINAS

Once again Sam was in danger. But again our little warrior pulled through! Then, only days later his tiny body was ravaged by blood poisoning. His heartbeat slowed to an abnormal rate and he stopped breathing at least a dozen times.

‘Let’s decorate the nursery,’ Ben suggested. It was his way of maintaining hope that Sam would come home.

But I was too exhausted to help. I didn’t know how much more I could take. It had been weeks of torment.

Yet just when I’d given up hope, Sam showed signs of recovery.

He started to put on weight – yet still only weighed three pounds – and was taken off the ventilators.

At 34 days old I was allowed my first cuddle with Sam.

‘This is the happiest moment of my life,’ I said as Ben and I both burst into tears of relief.

As the weeks went by,

Sam fed well and things were looking up. But our precious baby wasn’t out of the woods yet.

He was due to have his stoma reversed, but the day before surgery we were hit with another bombshell.

His retina was about to detach – if he didn’t have surgery in the next 48 hours he’d go blind.

The next day my son had his third operation – laser eye treatment followed by the stoma reversal, which took seven hours.

After ten weeks at Southampton’s Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, he was transferred to nearby Poole Hospital.

It wasn’t a moment too soon. The 100-mile round-trip to Southampton was exhausting and crippling us financially.

Finally, after four weeks there, we were allowed to bring Sam home, just one day after his due date.

‘Look at all the animals Sam!’ I said, showing him his bedroom Ben had lovingly decorated.

This was the moment we’d dreamed of and feared would never come.

Sam’s been home for over six months now. He weighs a healthy 15 pounds, four ounces.

He still needs oxygen, but we’re gradually reducing the amount.

Though he may have problems with his peripheral vision and will likely be short-sighted, these are minor glitches for such a trooper.

Sam is a smiley, cheerful baby. You’d never guess what he’s been through. He sometimes has temper

tantrums but that’s the fighting spirit in him!

I can’t thank the staff who looked after my boy enough – they’re all angels. Sam wouldn’t be here without them.

I’m now fundraising for the hospital to give something back by abseiling down the enormous 170-metre Spinnaker Tower in Southampton harbour.

I’m terrified of heights. But I look at Sam and think if my little boy can be so brave, so can I.

Vicky Maple, 26, insurance administrator from BournemouthYou can support Vicky’s abseil by donating here: mydonate.bt.com/fundraisers/supersamuel

Do you have a heartbreaking story, has your baby defied impossible odds? If so, call our features desk now on 0845 5197552 or email

stories@omg-magazine.co.uk We pay cash for your stories!