Jamie Scott, 33, went from a mum-of-two to seven overnight!
Here, Jamie tells the story in her own words.
I’d had an ultrasound and I was so excited I pulled my sons out of school.
‘Guess how many babies are in my belly,’ I said. ‘I’m guessing triplets,’ Shayden, 12, said.
‘I’m hoping twins,’ Landon, seven, grinned. ‘It’s higher than twins,’ I laughed. ‘Quads?’ Landon said. ‘Quints?’ Shayden gasped.‘Yes, five babies!’ I beamed.
Both boys’ mouths gaped open in disbelief. They were almost as shocked as my husband
Skyler, 36, and I had been at our seven-week scan!
Amazingly, all five had a strong heartbeat. The truly incredible part though was that I was even pregnant.
For five years, Skyler and I had longed to give our boys a sibling. We’d been struggling due to me having polycystic ovary syndrome, so I’d started taking fertility medication. Then we’d tried intrauterine insemination, which hadn’t worked.
Now, our second attempt had – and then some!
The odds of conceiving quintuplets were 0.003 per cent – that’s around a one in 55 million chance. It wasn’t long before I could feel the babies wriggling around inside me.
By 18 weeks, I looked nine months pregnant and my bump was so heavy it was difficult to walk. When we went to find out the sex, I held my breath.
‘A boy… a girl… a girl… another girl… and a boy,’ the sonographer said.
We’d wanted Shayden and Landon to have a sister – now they were getting three!
The most difficult task was thinking up five names. Finding one we agreed on was hard enough!
Thankfully, I didn’t suffer much with sickness, but I ended up wheelchair-bound because of exhaustion, and I was hungry all the time.
To feed five extra mouths, doctors wanted me to eat 4000 calories a day.
At 162cms, I had always been petite so it was quite a struggle.
It was also difficult to sleep. When one baby moved, they all did.
‘It’s like a party in there!’ I said.
The plan was to deliver the babies by C-section at 33 weeks. But at 21 and a half, there was bad news.
The waters had broken on our boy closest to the cervix – he had half the amount of fluid as the other babies. And it meant labour was starting.
‘Do we have any hope of saving this pregnancy?’ I asked the doctors. ‘I’m sorry but no,’ one replied. ‘You’re going to lose all of the babies today.’
Skyler and I both broke down. I could still feel the babies kicking. ‘I want to enjoy this last moment with them,’ I said. Then something incredible happened. Labour stopped and the membrane healed. Our specialist couldn’t believe it.
From then on, I was kept in hospital. And, last March, at 29 weeks, my contractions started.
Skyler kissed me before I was wheeled into theatre with a team of 30 medics, consisting of a team for each baby and a team for me. I was given a general anaesthetic and then everything went black…When I came around, Skyler was smiling.
‘We have five perfect babies,’ he said. ‘Tiny but perfect.’ I burst into tears. We’d done it!
In the NICU, I met my miracle quintuplets, all in their own incubators. There was Violet, Daisy, Logan, Lincoln and Lily. Each weighed around one kilo.
My heart was full as I gazed at them, taking in 50 tiny fingers and 50 tiny toes.
‘They’re more beautiful than I ever thought they would be,’ Skyler said.
While I recovered, I expressed milk for the babies and topped them up with donor milk and formula.
When Shayden and Landon came to visit I’d never seen them so happy.
‘They’re so small!’ Shayden said.
Over the coming days, our babies thrived. And soon we held them for the first time. One by one, the babies came off air support and steadily gained weight.
First Violet and Daisy were allowed home, followed by Logan, and days later, Lily and Lincoln.
It felt so special to have all five babies out of hospital in time for their due date. It was also completely surreal to be a mum-of-seven!
At home, I drew up a chart for each baby and started getting them into a routine.
As challenging as it was, knowing they would always have a friend – or four! – was incredible.
Now the quints are nine months old. It’s chaotic, but our love for them is just something else. The babies all have their own personality. And they’re really chunking up! It’s hard to believe that I’d struggled to conceive.
With nine of us under one roof there’s mountains of washing and we reckon we’ll get through 35,000 nappies before the quints are potty-trained.
Skyler and I have agreed we’ll be tired for the next 18 years, and we are hugely outnumbered by our kids, but we’re ready for the madness. Bring it on!
Read more in this week’s issue of that’s life, on sale now.
Related stories
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
Native ad body.
