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20 Week Scan
On 9th April 2005, a typically dull and grey day in spring, our little miracle Imogen Neive Dyson was born. As things turned out, she means that the sun shines every day. However, at the time of her birth, the forecast was very unpredictable.
 

 
 
  

Imogen was helped into the world with IVF treatment and was the result of our second attempt. My wife and I sought assistance after 5 years of trying without success. The timescale for IVF is often quite some time when getting funding from the NHS. After 2 years we were finally given the green light to begin our first course of treatment in November 2003. This involved the usual procedure of Lindsey having many injections administered by myself. The first attempt was unsuccessful and very disappointing after all our hope and anticipation. After a short 6 months we were fortunate to be able to have another attempt. Often the wait between attempts on the NHS is considerably longer. Along the journey, we were followed by Yorkshire TV for a prime time ITV documentary, “Precious Babies”. The program was aired 3 weeks prior to Imogen’s arrival.

We had made 26 journeys to Leeds from our home in Morecambe over a 12 month period, covering over 3000 miles. Looking back now, this was a small price to pay for what we have now and we would even have walked these miles. Our second course was a success and much relief to us when the test showed positive. But in light of things this was the beginning of a very long journey.

In December 2004, as proud parents to be, we headed to our local hospital for a 20 week scan. Having previously had a scan at 12 weeks, the 8 week hiatus seemed an age. We entered the ante-natal clinic with excitement and anticipation of seeing our long awaited baby. This we thought was to be our last Christmas together before an extra cracker at the dinner table would be required.

The radiographer was telling us that it was difficult to get a good image of the baby as he or she was facing the wrong way. We were advised that he would get a colleague to have a look and that we should wait outside the room for a few minutes. This we duly did thinking nothing of it. We were a little disappointed that we had not yet seen a good enough image to take a scan picture of but we were happy that there was still a heartbeat. What happened next knocked us for six. We were called back in and a senior radiographer introduced herself. Lindsey was quickly on the couch for the scan to begin again. The lady spent what seemed like an age scrolling the scanner across Lindsey's tummy without disclosing information.

 
  

It was then that she apologised and said there was a problem. The blood drained from my face and my stomach knotted. Lindsey describes a similar experience. The lady advised us that our baby had a diaphragmatic hernia. Diaphragmatic Hernia? What's one of those? Was it serious? Should we worry? Will there still only be the two of us at the table next Christmas? The lady did her best to explain but by now we were both beginning to cry and panic as she told us the facts. From my point of view, I was thinking, "Crikey, why us, haven't we been put through enough...?" In short the Hernia was explained as a hole in the diaphragm whereby the intestines have a tendency to grow in the chest impeding lung development. The seriousness hit us that even with our lack of biological knowledge; it was obvious without a good pair of lungs survival would be unlikely.