Maddiee McGaughay, 27, shares about her surprise pregnancy:
Throwing the groceries onto the kitchen table, I gripped my stomach with both hands.
“Ouch,” I yelped.
A shooting pain spread down my tummy. Growing up with hip issues, I was used to pain, but this was like nothing I’d experienced before.
I better lie down, I thought.
It was 2021, and aged 24, I was the only one of my siblings still living with my dad, Brian. He was working late, and my sister and brother lived interstate. I didn’t want to make a fuss by asking them for help.
Read more: Pregnant twice…in one week!
Taking painkillers, I attempted to sleep it off, but by midnight the pain was unbearable. Googling my symptoms, I thought I might have kidney stones, so I drove myself to the hospital.
Arriving at the emergency department, the nurse referred me to a doctor.
“We’ll have to run some tests and do an ultrasound to be sure,” the doctor explained, handing me more painkillers.
As I waited for the pain relief to set in, a nurse took my blood sample.
“Your blood shows elevated hormone levels,” the doctor said. “Is there any chance you could be pregnant?”
“I don’t think so,” I choked.
“When did you last menstruate?” he asked.
“A while ago, but I had my birth control implant removed last year and that can mess up your cycle,” I explained.
During the ultrasound, I could tell something wasn’t right.
“You’re 16 to 20 weeks pregnant,” the doctor said.
I’d always wanted to be a mum, but I thought it would be years in the future.
“You’re in labour. The stomach pains you’re experiencing are contractions, but it’s too early for the baby to come yet,” he explained.
After giving me medication to stop labour, he arranged for an ambulance to take me to a maternity hospital.
I was reeling from the news. I’d been in a casual relationship that had ended months earlier when Gary moved interstate. Shocked, I realised I must have become pregnant after having my birth control implant removed.
Now, all I cared about was my little baby.
I’m going to get everything ready for you, little one, I thought.
At 5am, the paramedics wheeled me into the maternity ward. There, an obstetrician performed an ultrasound and turned the screen towards me.
“Maddiee, you’re measuring 38 weeks and six days. Your baby is ready to come now,” she said.
“How?” I asked in disbelief. “I haven’t even gained any weight.”
“Your baby is positioned near your back and hips, which is why you didn’t have a bump,” she explained.
“My hips have been more sore than usual,” I realised.
Shocked, I rang Gary.
“I’m nine months pregnant. You’re the dad and our baby is coming now,” I blurted out.
“I didn’t even know you were pregnant,” he said, stunned.
“Neither did I,” I confessed.
Because the first doctor had given me medication to stop labour, I needed to be induced. After 36 hours of labour, Gary gripped my hand as I gave birth to our son, James.
“He’s perfect,” I sobbed, cradling him.
Despite no longer being together, Gary and I committed to co-parenting our beautiful boy.
The next morning, I rang my dad.
“I’m in hospital,” I said.
“You okay?” he asked.
“Better than okay. You’re a grandad,” I laughed.
Dad rushed over, thrilled to meet his first grandchild.
After that, all I cared about was giving James the best life possible. A week later, James and I went home to Dad’s place. The nights were difficult, and buying things I wasn’t prepared for was tricky, but I managed.
Dad, some local charities, and Gary’s support made all the difference. Although Gary lives interstate, he sees James when he can and contributes financially.
James is now two years old — a clever, cheeky little boy. We moved into our own place last year, and I’ve never felt so fulfilled.
I’m so glad my “kidney stones” turned out to be a beautiful baby boy.
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