Posts by this author:

HELLP we are going home…

It felt like a long time since I was admitted into the hospital.  Nearly two weeks later, we were told the…

View Post

Putting my Face on

Putting my Face on

This expression, “putting my face on” is one my mum uses a lot.  Not sure if she realises it though.

For example, she might say:  “we can’t go out yet, I need to put my face on.”

By this she means her make-up.  Not an actual different face.

It’s an expression I love.  I will tell you why.

It reminds me of my mum, being brave and putting make-up on to get on with the day, facing the world when things are getting her down.

Whether this was how she meant it I don’t know.  Mum: feel free to comment below!

These words went through my head, though, after a few days being locked up in High Dependancy.

I needed to express milk for the babies. I had read about the benefits of breast milk, knew it was important and wanted to give them the best possible start.  But I was struggling to get them to latch on so the midwife suggested expressing some milk. That also meant the hubby could feed them if I was sleeping.

The doctor said I would need a wheelchair as the express machine was on the floor below us.

I feel the need to point out that I have a lot of my mum in me.  A lot of determination. In our family we call it ‘the Urquhart spirit’.

Oh, and I don’t like being told what to do.

I especially don’t like being told what not to do.

I am extremely stubborn.

As it turns out my children have this in them too but that is for another post.
When I packed my hospital bag, I included make-up, after all I would want to put my face on every day… No?  I am sure you will not be surprised that my make-up had stayed, neglected, in my bag up until is point.

So what did I do?

I dressed, pinned my hair up and put my face on.  No doctor – who knows exactly what he is doing – is going to tell me what I can or can’t do.  I was determined to walk, ignoring the suggestion of using a wheelchair.

Leaving the twins with the hubby, I went down to the pre-natal ward to express milk. I have to point out I took the lift.  I really wasn’t well and thought I might keels over on the stairs.

When I got to the room I collapsed in the chair, heart racing, faint headed and exhausted.

But I felt good.  For the first time in days, I felt in control. I was smug. With hindsight, I was also a bit silly….

On the way back to High Dependency, I happened to bump into my doctor in the lift. He was stunned and I pretended I felt absolutely fine. I didn’t but I was damned if he was going to see that.

He knew, of course; he must have known.

Later on, he said to me, you know a lot of people would just lie down to this but you are pretty strong-willed.

Yep, that’s me, strong-willed, stubborn, exhausted and probably at risk from fainting in the lift. But I did it and I felt good!

I felt like this was a turning point for me.  In a way, it was but I had no idea that I wouldn’t feel back to my pre-HELLP self for a good two years.

Thankfully, we didn’t know what is ahead of us but there is a lot to be said for putting your face on….

Putting my face on


HELLP – what is wrong with me?

HELLP – what is wrong with me?

I have been under 24-hour observation one day now. Yet I still have no idea what is wrong with me.

The specialist is saying I am making good progress and can go back to the high-dependancy ward now.

When we are moved to yet another room, it all becomes to much for me.  I burst into tears and finally reveal my worst fears to the hubby.  This is when I tell him: “I think I am really ill.  I fear it is Cancer”.

I can’t keep anything in when it comes to the hubby.  It was inevitable that my anxiety was going to reveal itself eventually.  I was scared, confused and worried.

My hubby decided that enough was enough.  He buzzed the buzzer on the wall.  He was not happy and wanted answers.

When the midwife entered the room, my hubby doesn’t beat around the bush: “Is someone going to tell us what is going on.  What the hell is wrong with my wife???”

The midwife says: “She has HELLP syndrome, of course”

Just like that, as if it were the most normal thing in the world.

As if she was telling us I had the common cold.

Absolutely not like she was breaking the news to us, that I had something with a 25% mortality rate.

That my life was at risk.

Then, the penny drops.  The midwife realises that no-one has told us this before.  After turning a shade of grey, the midwife makes her excuses and leaves the room.

We were left wondering what HELLP Syndrome is.

It wasn’t long before the specialist returned. We are finally told what is going on.

  • I had definitely had preeclampsia prior to giving birth.  It was likely I had this for a while.
  • I now had HELLP syndrome, and all test results indicated I was getting worse instead of better.
  • My platelets were low, and continuing to drop after birth.  The doctor told me this was unusual and as far as they were aware, giving birth should cure HELLP syndrome.
  • My blood pressure was dangerously high.
  • The rash on my stomach, the supposed stretch marks according to my midwife, was actually a sign that my liver was failing.
  • I was at a very high risk from having a stroke
  • There was a high risk of my liver rupturing.
  • I carried a risk of kidney damage.
  • I had a very high risk of haemorrhaging.
  • There was a risk of lung failure
  • We were told that I was very lucky that I managed to deliver two, healthy babies.  I had run a high risk of placenta abruption.
  • I was told repeatedly that HELLP syndrome was difficult to diagnose.

Finally, we had some answers.

They were not what we wanted to hear, but somehow after fearing the C word, it was a relief.

There was still a long fight ahead for me.  The doctor said I would not be going home any time soon.

In the meantime, Bob L was put on a bilirubin machine.

His jaundice was a huge concern.  He was only allowed out of plastic cot to be fed and changed.  He had to stay in there as much as possible.

It was heartbreaking to see him lying there, unable to cuddle him.  After missing that contact in the first 24-hours, I found this so very difficult.  I knew it was for the best though.  We – by which I mean the hubby, grandparents, aunts, uncles and me – took turns holding his hand.  He was never without someone holding his tiny fingers.  He would clutch onto us like his life depended on it.


Uncle Ant (AKA Daddy Dee Dee) holds Bob L’s hand

Photo 18-09-2012 16 04 00

Our little fighter gives the world the finger.


Zbogom: Goodbye (Z)

Zbogom: Goodbye (Z)

It is time to say goodbye to the A to Z Challenge.Goodbye A to Z Challenge 2016

So here we are, I made it all the way to the end of the A to Z challenge. Not really sure how I managed to post every day and not get behind, but I managed it woo hoo!!!!

I have really enjoyed doing the challenge and have learnt so much from it.  If I could go back and give myself some advice though it would definitely be to move over to my new website either before or after the challenge.  Talk about biting off more than I could chew!

Next year will be a different matter and I am already looking forward to taking part in it.  However, the thought of trying to decide a new post for X fills me with fear!

As this is letter Z day, I went all ‘mission impossible’ this morning and looked up how many ways to say goodbye beginning with the letter Z… oh what an exciting life I lead…eh?  I bet you are all jealous!

Anyway here goes:

  • Bulgaria: Zbogom
  • Czech Republic: Zijte blaze
  • China, Malaysia: Zoi kien
  • Tepoztlan Mexico: [see you soon] Zan nikan
  • Slovakia: Zbohom
  • Slovenia: Zbogom 
  • Slovenia: Zdravo 
  • Slovenia: Zhivijo
  • Yiddish Europe: Zayt gesunt
  • Russia: [familiar] Ziech lu Udmurt
  • Russia: [informal] Ziech

So there we have it.  That was all I could find.

So what is next for me?

Tomorrow you will see the start of my campaigning for the Preeclampsia Foundation, as awareness month beckons.

Later on in the week I am going to introduce you to the Ninja.

Then at the end of the week I will start back on my HELLP journey.  What did I find out in my Medical Notes?  You will have to wait and see..

Goodbye to the A to Z Challenge 2016, see you next year

Goodbye to the A to Z Challenge 2016, see you next year








Yvonne (Y)

Yvonne (Y)

For those that don’t know, my name is Yvonne.  As today is ‘Y’ day on the A to Z challenge, I thought it would be a good idea to look up what my name actually means.

  • Usage: French, English, German, Dutch, Swedish, Norwegian and Danish.
  • Pronounced (apparently): ee-VON (French), i-VAWN (English), ee-VAWN (German).
  • French feminine form of YVON. It has been regularly used in the English-speaking world since the late 19th century.
  • Meaning: Yew; archer.  Hmmm, not quite sure how that gives my name a meaning. Does it mean I am like a tree? I am not really sure.

As you will have noticed, my name is spelt Yvonne.  However, I have known some great variations. To date these have included; Avon, Evonne, Evon and Ivan.

Just for fun, I also looked up my name on the Urban Dictionary.  I don’t want to repeat all of what was said on my blog because it’s rude.  Feel free to look up the full version.  The unsweary version is here.

Latina , Sexy Girl, Great Role Model. 
A Fly, Crazy, Fresh, Princess, Beautiful, Gangster, Diva, Fun, Irritating, Badass, Playertastic, Indescribable; Young lady who always looks her best.Not many can handle her. But always wanna try. 
Someone who is talked about, on a regular basis. She knows what she deserves and won’t settle for anything less.Most often misunderstood.

She is bold and is capable of anything. Regardless of her bold nature, she is often secretive, but is always observing behind her withdrawn manner.

She can be argumentative and pack a powerful sting, but that’s simply because she see all opposition as a healthy challenge.

 The word Yvonne on a snow background

Did you just do an Yvonne??

Caring and secretive Yvonne.

Be bold like Yvonne.

Right then…
My question is “Did you just do an Yvonne”?    I don’t even know what that is meant to mean!!! 
 Reflecting on my name - Yvonne. What does it mean?