“There were no questions when we introduced ourselves as Remi’s mummies” – Carla’s story #Pride

My family’s neonatal journey began on the 27th of August 2024 when our son Remi was born at 30 weeks and 6 days, weighing 1.44kg. My wife and I went into hospital in the early hours of the 26th August, unaware that I was in the early stages of labour, but in hindsight I’d likely been in the very early stages of labour for a number of hours before. 

During my pregnancy, I wasn’t made aware of what a neonatal unit was, or why babies may need it. Thinking back, had I been given relevant information on what could happen if my baby decided to come early, I believe that may have prepared me a little more mentally, as I did not feel prepared at all. I’m not sure if anything can prepare you for an experience like your baby being admitted to the NICU, but I do feel that more awareness around prematurity and sick babies during pregnancy is vital. 

My wife and I, though not married at the time, were fortunate enough to conceive using a donor and went into the pregnancy knowing that as an LGBTQIA+ couple we may face questions and challenges. From the moment we entered the Queen Alexandra Hospital, Portsmouth, unsure of what was happening, we were met with kindness, inclusivity and hope. My wife and I are very open about being in a same sex relationship, and now marriage, and were happy to share our pregnancy journey with the medical professionals . 

During my labour we were informed that many of the medical team would be in the room during Remi’s arrival — to ensure his safety and wellbeing. When Remi came out crying I allowed myself a glimmer of hope. Throughout the entirety of my natural labour, the medical team were extremely professional and warm towards my wife and myself, and I don’t believe there was one instance where either of us felt alienated due to our sexuality or being in a same sex relationship. We had several wonderful comments from midwives and nurses who recognised the bond and love between my wife and I.  

Once Remi was born, it was soon apparent to the medical team that he required surgery in Southampton and that he would be transferred as soon as possible to the Princess Anne’s Neonatal Unit to be assessed for surgery. This was a particularly difficult time as not only had I just given birth very early, our baby was now being taken to a completely different hospital for a surgery we had never heard of. Fortunately, my wife and I were able to stay overnight in the hospital, but as I was still admitted I wasn’t able to be with Remi straight away.  

After I was discharged, my wife and I were able to visit Remi in the NICU and were offered a room at the nearby Ronald McDonald Charity House where we stayed for just over a week. There were no questions when we introduced ourselves as Remi‘s mummies and we made it very clear that we were happy to discuss things, like who carried Remi, during conversations with the nurses and staff that cared for him. 

I’m not sure I can ever put into words the way I felt during Remi’s NICU journey, especially in those early days after his surgery, but I can say that I was extremely anxious, fragile and frightened. During a scan of Remi’s heart, which took place in his incubator, the medical professional looked at Remi’s notes and without looking up asked my partner and I ‘who is mum and who is dad?’. This question took us by surprise, and when we very swiftly corrected him he apologised immediately. 

Fast forward to Remi being moved to QA Hospital NICU in our home city, the differences to the medical approaches, though only slight, filled me with the deepest dread and fear. Once again, the entire medical team, from Remi’s nurses to the Feeding Team, were extremely inclusive and caring towards our family. During the very long days and very late nights you become somewhat of a community within the walls of the NICU. You trust the nurses who are taking blood gases from your tiny, fragile baby at 3am; you eagerly wait for the consultants to start their ward rounds in the morning so you can have an insight into the plan of the day for your baby. The community-feel allowed us to be open with the medical team on a more personal level, which became really important to us.

One of the differences I noticed when Remi was admitted to QA Hospital NICU was that each baby had a brightly coloured laminated piece of paper above their incubator or cot. The paper was a ‘going home journey’ which encouraged parents to fill out each milestone before their baby was able to go home. The sheet included things like successfully completing the car seat challenge, baby having their first bath and baby having their ROC eye test. The sheets were addressed to Mum and Dad and as the tick box list continued, so did the ‘Dad‘s first’…, ‘Mum‘s first…’ sentences. This is something I noticed straight away, as it didn’t relate to my family and was exclusive of same sex families. 

We had asked for Remi‘s cot to be moved, due to him being under the cold air-conditioning, which happened overnight. When we arrived the next morning to see that Remi’s had moved, we also noticed that Remi‘s laminated sheet had now changed to the ‘Mum and Mum’ version and that his nurse had crossed out all of the Dad sections on the sheet (though it was mum and mum specific, it still had ‘Dad’ typed throughout!). I thanked the nurse Caitlin for changing the sheet, who later on became one of Remi’s frequent nurses, and recognised the small act of mindful inclusion.

Remi spent a total of 38 days in hospital over two NICUs and upon his discharge it became very apparent that my mental health was not great. During those 38 days my wife and I had received bedside conversations with a mental health professional, but it was quite challenging as that professional had two roles within he NICU; one day she was Remi’s nurse and the next was a counsellor. I found it particularly hard to differentiate between her two roles and felt it was best to see her as Remi‘s nurse only.