This is a very, very special polish. Not only is it one of a kind, but it’s named after the most important person in my life. My beautiful three month old princess, Evelyn. Or Evie for short.
I know I am biased, but I think she’s the most beautiful creature that the universe ever saw fit to dream up, so it makes sense that this polish is equally beautiful. Made as a gift by the wonderful Nicki from Celestial Cosmetics to celebrate the birth of my daughter, this gorgeous shimmering purple really couldn’t be more perfect.
On a more personal note, this gorgeous polish also gives me the opportunity to talk about my pregnancy, Evie’s birth and issue a warning to all pregnant ladies: If you think something is wrong, anything at all – GO TO THE HOSPITAL! Don’t worry about being a bother or being told everything is fine (best possible outcome!) just GO.
People who know me know that I did not have a great pregnancy. In fact, I hated it. I was sick, tired and usually in a lot of pain. I was in and out of hospital. The day that Evie was born I had my 37 week checkup. I told the doctor at the midwife practice that I wasn’t feeling well (I had thrown up for hours the night before) and she told me to go to the hospital. It was likely nothing, but it was best that we go. My husband and I shrugged it off and took our time getting there, stopping for something to eat on the way.
When I got there it was the same as every other time. They put us in a little room, attached me to monitors and basically just let us be. A couple of hours passed (and a fire alarm going off!) and I began falling asleep. Nurses had all but assured us that we would be going home soon.
All of a sudden, the doors burst open and six people flooded the tiny room, squashing my husband up against a wall while they informed me that my baby was in distress and I would be having an emergency c-section. I managed to ask how long as people shoved forms in my face and a pen in my hand while someone else pulled my clothes over my head and stuffed my arms into a hospital gown.
“Ten minutes,” the doctor said, as if it was the most normal thing in the world.
And true to his word, less than ten minutes later I heard my daughter’s first cry. Then silence.
A kind nurse assured me that she was beautiful and just fine, but my husband didn’t look so confident. I couldn’t hear her. No one brought her over to see me. I caught a glimpse of her pale body as they wheeled her past me and out the door, taking my husband with them. The nurses were trying to keep me calm, but something was very, very wrong with my little girl.
It was close to an hour before I was taken to the special care nursery where my beautiful baby was hooked up to all sorts of wires monitoring every single thing. I was asked if I consented to her having a blood transfusion. As if I would have declined. The Newborn Emergency Transport Service (NETS) had been called to take her to another hospital with a more sophisticated NICU. I was allowed to stay with her until they took her away, then I was taken back to my room. Alone. No husband (he had gone to the other hospital, and no baby. That was the hardest night of my life. The pain of my surgery started to set in and I cried with every photograph and video my husband sent through. The video of her tiny cry still brings me to tears but it was so important that I heard it. I needed to know that she was strong enough to do that, even though I couldn’t be there to hold her.
My little girl was a fighter, and as I pushed to recover from my surgery as quickly as possible, she fought to get stronger. The day I was released from hospital, she was scheduled to come back to the special care nursery at our local hospital. I didn’t care – I escaped that morning and had my husband drive me to the NICU so I could hold her for the first time. I swear I thought I would break her.
After a week of back and forth from the hospital nursery, we were finally allowed to bring the princess home. I know so many families spend months going back and forth with their preemie babies on the precipice of life, and I honestly don’t know how they do it. One week and I almost lost my mind.
Evie and I experienced what is known as a feto-maternal hemorrhage. My placenta malfunctioned dangerously, and instead of passing on nutrients from me into her blood and sending it back to her, it flipped out and sent her blood directly into my bloodstream, making me sick and leaving her with dangerously low hemoglobin levels. Healthy babies are born with a level of 160. Evie’s was 41.
My husband watched them trying to draw blood from Evie after she was born. It was pale pink and just sort of sputtered out. She was struggling to breathe because she didn’t have enough blood to oxygenate her body. A few more hours in my womb and her outcome would have been very different, and perhaps life threatening for me as well. Never be afraid to go into the hospital if you think something is wrong, because in the odd chance that something is very wrong, you’re in the right place.
But scary stories aside, Evie and I are now both perfectly well, and we have the amazing staff of doctors and nurses at Campbelltown and Liverpool hospitals to thank for it.
Unfortunately, you can’t get your hands on a bottle of Princess Evie, it’s mine and mine alone! But there are lots of other equally amazing polishes at Celestial Cosmetics. And right now she’s having a sale as well!
Apologies for the novel, here’s the short version – Pretty polish! Pretty Baby!
You’re a jerk, Spiderman.