Birth Story - A Father's view

First let me apologise for not posting any earlier - it's been a traumatic
few weeks but now we're sort of back on track, so for those of you
interested.,

DW was due on the 4th July, problem was nobody had told our unborn baby this
and apparently their diary was full the next week and a half. So here we
were ten days later, admitted to the maternity ward at Good Hope hospital,
on one of the hottest days of the year, to have DW induced.

We weren't worried, just eager to meet the newest member of our family and
DW had in DW's way, prepared herself as much as a woman can who has never
experienced childbirth before. We waited in the two bed side ward and
watched the monitor strapped to DW's abdomen show baby's heartbeat and DW's
'quickenings' while we waited for the pessary to arrive. We made small talk
generally getting over the vaguely surreal feeling of anticlimax we were
feeling after months of imagining midnight dashes to the hospital.

The pessary was duly administered, and after half an hour the monitor was
removed and we went for the first of many long hot walks. The ward was on
the fifth floor - sixth if you count ground as floor one - and with a
resolute air we took the stairs to the ground floor and made our way
outside. The heat was silly, by mid afternoon we'd hit the nineties and DW
and I were living on slush puppies gathered from the small café on the
ground floor. Three times we circled the hospital grounds, each circuit
ending with a trip back up the stairs to have the monitor attached and yet
DW was feeling no action down below.

On the fourth time the monitor showed a problem: DW's quickenings were two
minutes apart and the baby's heartbeat was erratic. The heat and the
exercise hadn't affected the cervix, but it had given DW hypersensitivity.

Straight down to the delivery room, DW starting to feel the first real pains
and yours truly feeling completely bewildered. DW's temperature is sky high,
to add to the hypersensitivity, she's also got heatstroke. She's drinking
cold water like her it's the finest drink she's ever tasted and has three
fans on her as well as the aircon going right above her head. Slowly her
temperature starts to drop, if she can get it down to 32 degrees - if memory
serves - she can still have her water birth.

It takes another three hours, but finally DW's temperature is under control
but still the quickenings are too close together. The decision is made to
break DW's waters, if possible. See two days before DW was two to three
centimetres dilated but now.., now she was back to just one centimetre
dilated. She's examined, none of the midwifes present think they can do it,
but there is one surgeon who is renown for her abilities and she is duly
called.

DW, legs akimbo with me holding her hand and wiping her brow waits as this
tiny little woman probes within. DW swears she can't feel a thing and the
suddenly the water's break. Now this was our first, we had no idea whether
it would be a flood, a stream or a trickle.., it was a jet! The poor doctor
was hit with a geyser as DW and I gaped at the poor woman, midwives were
scattering like leaves as they tried to get away. DW can't make up her mind
whether to be mortified or howl with laughter. She plumps for mortified and
as the sopping doctor heads for the door, she wishes us luck and say's not
to worry as DW has a very high pain threshold.

Above the bed is a combined TV, Phone and Internet module, DW decides to
call her Mum and tell how things are going. She's relaxed and calm as the
midwives leave us, and she's looking forward to having the water birth.

The first real contractions hit, they're in the lower back and DW goes for
the gas and air. Slow deep breaths and she can cope, it's 'uncomfortable not
painful' she says, and wonders what all the fuss is about.

Within the next half an hour she knows.

The idea of the water birth has flown out the window; she can hardly lift
her feet from the floor as she positions herself for pelvic rocking, never
mind climb in and out of a birthing pool. She asks for me to fit the TENS
machine; I try but she can't stand the touch of the pads, I don't even get
chance to plug them in to the pad itself as she tries desperately to find
someplace to stand, someplace to comfort herself. Instead she wonders round
the room with four wires dangling uncomortably from the back of her hospital
gown.

She asks me to rub her back, the birthing classes said to be firm, to help
relieve the pain from the coccyx - DW screams at me to be gentle, so much
for birthing classes, it's the gentle touch of a loving hand she wants not a
massage.

Naively I ask her if she wants the aromatherapy oils she demanded be used or
the music she'd chosen to be played, perhaps they would be a distraction. I've
never seen a more eloquent silent look in my life, and I hope never to
again!

She sort of manages to half squat half lie back on the bed, the midwives
come back in and the monitor is back on. It is two hours since they broke
the waters and DW's contractions are five minutes apart, coming in bursts of
three then subsiding. Baby has slightly elevated heart rhythm but they're
stable so nothing too out of the ordinary, unfortunately DW is still only
one centimetre dilated.

The next hour I'm alone, DW has lost the ability to speak out loud, as she
tries to cope with the pain wracking her body. She's panting on the tube for
the gas and air, the midwives are telling her to breathe deeply to get the
best effect, it doesn't register, DW's world is now completely internal.

DW rolls on to her side, I notice the monitor as I stroke her hair and
whisper my love and encouragement to her, the contractions are now just
seconds apart The midwives try to check how much DW is dilated, but her leg
mucles are rigid and they simply can't get in. 'Pethedine,' DW finally
screams, 'give me pethedine!' They comply, she can't cope like this and she
can't be anywhere ready dilated enough after an hour.

They administer the injection, but to no obvious effect and as DW screams
for them to help her and draws her legs up to her stomach, finally they can
check to see how far dilated she is.

9.5 centimetres, in one hour she's become almost fully dilated. We know the
pethedine can affect the baby this late in the process but nobody could've
guessed that dilation would occur so fast.

Time to push?

DW resumes her semi squatting lying position and gasping desperately on the
gas and air she takes on the business of giving birth, but again nobody has
checked with the baby's schedule. It seems this was nap time and couldn't be
avoided, that's right in the midst of these huge contractions, the screaming
of mother, the pushing and the pulling of DW's body as they try to get her
into position.., the little beggar goes to sleep. The heartbeat isn't
pronounced enough to monitor properly, she can't push yet.

Between gulps of gas and air and the contractions she's swallowing gallons
of cold water, the idea being that sudden drop in temperature in her bladder
will wake the baby up. Miraculously it works..,

The final stage begins.

Many people' far more eloquent than I, have described the birth process; for
myself as an outside observer I can only say that I have never felt more
privileged, more amazed or more emotional in my entire life. Of course and
can never truly empathise with what it is like to have my body produce
another life, but for me this was beyond mere biology this was a glimpse of
beauty and love of another magnitude.

For thirty five minutes DW pushes and screams to give birth, she has burst
blood vessels from the womb down and she is still pushing, she has passed
beyond pain to somewhere, where only the task of giving birth matters.

I watch my child emerge into the world, the tiny blood stained face lolling
on that improbably weak neck, the quick snatch and delivery on to DW's
stomach before being snatched away again moments later to the recovery
table. I look down at DW's pale drawn face and we wait for the baby to
return to us, the cries from the corner of the room the finest song we've
ever heard sung.

DW tells me to sit down, apparently I'm as pale as she is, I do so and no
sooner am I down than I am introduced to my son. I'm ashamed to say DW was
forgotten, I look down in to the blinking eyes of my baby son, with tears
rolling down my face and am filled with such an overwhelming sense of love
that it is literally a physical flow through my body. I hold him up so his
mother can see and she smiles at me and sighs.

He has made a messy introduction to the world my son, and DW is the one who
has to pay the price. For over an hour and half she receives stitches,
thirteen local anaesthetics were injected and as her hand folds gently into
mine and our son, Daniel, lies gurgling in the crook of my other arm.

Then as she recovers we're left alone, the three of us taking it in turns to
doze and gaze with amazement at each other. More complete, more in love with
each other than ever before.


Part 2

Just four days, that's how long he was at home, just four days. How can you
love someone that much after just four days? Now he was back in hospital,
the monitor strapped to his little foot sounding the alarm every time he
moves. What had happened?

The midwife had visited and as DW was finding it hard to breast feed without
pain showed he how to lever Daniel in to her lap, while on his side and feed
more securely.., only it didn't work he stopped breathing, we watched him
turn blue and stop breathing. Oh he recovered within seconds but what had
happened what was wrong?

We had raced to the hospital, and they took our son from us and started
tests. Tests that had no results, what were they looking for? Well his lungs
might not have formed properly, he may have a hole in the heart, we're not
certain whether his brain has formed properly.., each test was a hammer
blow, each explanation a nightmare scenario.

The next few days passed in a haze, the results were delayed and delayed,
blood cultures, blood sugars, tests, tests, tests. Examinations, Mmdicines,
antibiotics.., tests, tests, tests , ECGs, EEGs, MRIs Ultrasounds,
everything that could be done was done but the answers were not forthcoming.

Each night for three nights I left the hospital, not knowing if my son would
be there when I woke the next day.

Finally the tests came back - Negative no malformations, no infections, no
defects.., so why was he not breathing?

Babies it seems are born with a Suck, Breathe, Swallow reflex.., our was
not. Daniel does two of the three but forgets the third. He can breathe and
swallow - to give copious amounts of wind. He can breathe and suck, which in
feeding just leads to the milk exploding from his mouth. But the most
disturbing one is that if he sucks his food and remembers to swallow it..,
he can forget to breathe, in addition to which he has reflux, which again
can be exacerbated when he forgets to swallow.

The good news is that he should grow out of it, by the time he is weaned he'll
be able to cope just fine. Until then he is watched and monitored for every
feed, every cough, every hiccup - and lordy does he get hiccups!

So now here we are nearly five weeks later. Our son born at 7lb 10 and
measuring an impressive 2 foot long, is now a thriving 10lb plus and is
rapidly out growing his 0-3 months clothing. His parents are tired beyond
belief yet conversely quite sanguine about the whole thing, after all there
aren't many babies sent home from hospital with that level of checks.

I go to work at 7am get home at 8pm spend an hour with my wife who then goes
to bed to get some sleep, while I take over the babycare until 1pm. DW has
been made redundant - no there is nothing we can do to fight it her entire
department has been closed down and moved to another office in another
city - but frankly it's a minor concern in the great scheme of things. The
mortgage has protection insurance in both our names as does the car loan, we'll
survive for a few months without two incomes, and besides it means Daniel
gets the love and attention of his parents 24 hours a day in one form or
another, which is no bad thing I think you'll agree.

When Daniel isn't crying for a change, for a feed, for a winding or because
his medication has stopped him going the loo for longer than he'd like.., he
is an absolute angel. His smile is something that we live for and his little
sighs and gurgles as he looks around his world or nestles in our arms are
pure bliss to us.

We made it folks, and we will continue to do so.

Before I sign off this verbose and over due posting I'd just like to again
offer my thanks to everybody who has offered support, advice, and affection
over the last 9 months. Special mention must go to Ericka, who has been my
voice of sanity in this group, but to you all, my repect, my admiration and
my thanks.

Regards

Bob Powell
Husband to Clare for 1 year 3 months
Father to Daniel Fraser for 4 weeks 6 days

Thank you so much for the story! I hope Daniel continues to improve.
Your wife sounds pretty amazing too!
Amy

Wow. You had me in tears. What a story. Good luck to you all in the
future.

Jeni

What a wonderful story. You had me weeping too. All the best wishes
for you & your family.

Lila

Robert Powell wrote:

So now here we are nearly five weeks later. Our son born at 7lb 10 and
measuring an impressive 2 foot long, is now a thriving 10lb plus and
is rapidly out growing his 0-3 months clothing.

Congratulations and Welcome to baby Daniel. I hope he continues to grow
strong and healthy! Your wife is a trooper!

--
Nikki

now how can anyone read that and NOT get tears in their eyes - very
beautiful story robert. congrats to you and claire on the arrival of baby
daniel. hope he remembers how to breathe huh?

you be sure to print out that whole story and keep it for him, it is
beautiful

chris in oz


"Robert Powell" wrote in message
...
First let me apologise for not posting any earlier - it's been a traumatic
few weeks but now we're sort of back on track, so for those of you
interested.,

DW was due on the 4th July, problem was nobody had told our unborn baby
this and apparently their diary was full the next week and a half. So here
we were ten days later, admitted to the maternity ward at Good Hope
hospital, on one of the hottest days of the year, to have DW induced.

We weren't worried, just eager to meet the newest member of our family and
DW had in DW's way, prepared herself as much as a woman can who has never
experienced childbirth before. We waited in the two bed side ward and
watched the monitor strapped to DW's abdomen show baby's heartbeat and
DW's 'quickenings' while we waited for the pessary to arrive. We made
small talk generally getting over the vaguely surreal feeling of
anticlimax we were feeling after months of imagining midnight dashes to
the hospital.

The pessary was duly administered, and after half an hour the monitor was
removed and we went for the first of many long hot walks. The ward was on
the fifth floor - sixth if you count ground as floor one - and with a
resolute air we took the stairs to the ground floor and made our way
outside. The heat was silly, by mid afternoon we'd hit the nineties and DW
and I were living on slush puppies gathered from the small café on the
ground floor. Three times we circled the hospital grounds, each circuit
ending with a trip back up the stairs to have the monitor attached and yet
DW was feeling no action down below.

On the fourth time the monitor showed a problem: DW's quickenings were two
minutes apart and the baby's heartbeat was erratic. The heat and the
exercise hadn't affected the cervix, but it had given DW hypersensitivity.

Straight down to the delivery room, DW starting to feel the first real
pains and yours truly feeling completely bewildered. DW's temperature is
sky high, to add to the hypersensitivity, she's also got heatstroke. She's
drinking cold water like her it's the finest drink she's ever tasted and
has three fans on her as well as the aircon going right above her head.
Slowly her temperature starts to drop, if she can get it down to 32
degrees - if memory serves - she can still have her water birth.

It takes another three hours, but finally DW's temperature is under
control but still the quickenings are too close together. The decision is
made to break DW's waters, if possible. See two days before DW was two to
three centimetres dilated but now.., now she was back to just one
centimetre dilated. She's examined, none of the midwifes present think
they can do it, but there is one surgeon who is renown for her abilities
and she is duly called.

DW, legs akimbo with me holding her hand and wiping her brow waits as this
tiny little woman probes within. DW swears she can't feel a thing and the
suddenly the water's break. Now this was our first, we had no idea whether
it would be a flood, a stream or a trickle.., it was a jet! The poor
doctor was hit with a geyser as DW and I gaped at the poor woman, midwives
were scattering like leaves as they tried to get away. DW can't make up
her mind whether to be mortified or howl with laughter. She plumps for
mortified and as the sopping doctor heads for the door, she wishes us luck
and say's not to worry as DW has a very high pain threshold.

Above the bed is a combined TV, Phone and Internet module, DW decides to
call her Mum and tell how things are going. She's relaxed and calm as the
midwives leave us, and she's looking forward to having the water birth.

The first real contractions hit, they're in the lower back and DW goes for
the gas and air. Slow deep breaths and she can cope, it's 'uncomfortable
not painful' she says, and wonders what all the fuss is about.

Within the next half an hour she knows.

The idea of the water birth has flown out the window; she can hardly lift
her feet from the floor as she positions herself for pelvic rocking, never
mind climb in and out of a birthing pool. She asks for me to fit the TENS
machine; I try but she can't stand the touch of the pads, I don't even get
chance to plug them in to the pad itself as she tries desperately to find
someplace to stand, someplace to comfort herself. Instead she wonders
round the room with four wires dangling uncomortably from the back of her
hospital gown.

She asks me to rub her back, the birthing classes said to be firm, to help
relieve the pain from the coccyx - DW screams at me to be gentle, so much
for birthing classes, it's the gentle touch of a loving hand she wants not
a massage.

Naively I ask her if she wants the aromatherapy oils she demanded be used
or the music she'd chosen to be played, perhaps they would be a
distraction. I've never seen a more eloquent silent look in my life, and I
hope never to again!

She sort of manages to half squat half lie back on the bed, the midwives
come back in and the monitor is back on. It is two hours since they broke
the waters and DW's contractions are five minutes apart, coming in bursts
of three then subsiding. Baby has slightly elevated heart rhythm but
they're stable so nothing too out of the ordinary, unfortunately DW is
still only one centimetre dilated.

The next hour I'm alone, DW has lost the ability to speak out loud, as she
tries to cope with the pain wracking her body. She's panting on the tube
for the gas and air, the midwives are telling her to breathe deeply to get
the best effect, it doesn't register, DW's world is now completely
internal.

DW rolls on to her side, I notice the monitor as I stroke her hair and
whisper my love and encouragement to her, the contractions are now just
seconds apart The midwives try to check how much DW is dilated, but her
leg mucles are rigid and they simply can't get in. 'Pethedine,' DW finally
screams, 'give me pethedine!' They comply, she can't cope like this and
she can't be anywhere ready dilated enough after an hour.

They administer the injection, but to no obvious effect and as DW screams
for them to help her and draws her legs up to her stomach, finally they
can check to see how far dilated she is.

9.5 centimetres, in one hour she's become almost fully dilated. We know
the pethedine can affect the baby this late in the process but nobody
could've guessed that dilation would occur so fast.

Time to push?

DW resumes her semi squatting lying position and gasping desperately on
the gas and air she takes on the business of giving birth, but again
nobody has checked with the baby's schedule. It seems this was nap time
and couldn't be avoided, that's right in the midst of these huge
contractions, the screaming of mother, the pushing and the pulling of DW's
body as they try to get her into position.., the little beggar goes to
sleep. The heartbeat isn't pronounced enough to monitor properly, she
can't push yet.

Between gulps of gas and air and the contractions she's swallowing gallons
of cold water, the idea being that sudden drop in temperature in her
bladder will wake the baby up. Miraculously it works..,

The final stage begins.

Many people' far more eloquent than I, have described the birth process;
for myself as an outside observer I can only say that I have never felt
more privileged, more amazed or more emotional in my entire life. Of
course and can never truly empathise with what it is like to have my body
produce another life, but for me this was beyond mere biology this was a
glimpse of beauty and love of another magnitude.

For thirty five minutes DW pushes and screams to give birth, she has burst
blood vessels from the womb down and she is still pushing, she has passed
beyond pain to somewhere, where only the task of giving birth matters.

I watch my child emerge into the world, the tiny blood stained face
lolling on that improbably weak neck, the quick snatch and delivery on to
DW's stomach before being snatched away again moments later to the
recovery table. I look down at DW's pale drawn face and we wait for the
baby to return to us, the cries from the corner of the room the finest
song we've ever heard sung.

DW tells me to sit down, apparently I'm as pale as she is, I do so and no
sooner am I down than I am introduced to my son. I'm ashamed to say DW was
forgotten, I look down in to the blinking eyes of my baby son, with tears
rolling down my face and am filled with such an overwhelming sense of love
that it is literally a physical flow through my body. I hold him up so his
mother can see and she smiles at me and sighs.

He has made a messy introduction to the world my son, and DW is the one
who has to pay the price. For over an hour and half she receives stitches,
thirteen local anaesthetics were injected and as her hand folds gently
into mine and our son, Daniel, lies gurgling in the crook of my other arm.

Then as she recovers we're left alone, the three of us taking it in turns
to doze and gaze with amazement at each other. More complete, more in love
with each other than ever before.


Part 2

Just four days, that's how long he was at home, just four days. How can
you love someone that much after just four days? Now he was back in
hospital, the monitor strapped to his little foot sounding the alarm every
time he moves. What had happened?

The midwife had visited and as DW was finding it hard to breast feed
without pain showed he how to lever Daniel in to her lap, while on his
side and feed more securely.., only it didn't work he stopped breathing,
we watched him turn blue and stop breathing. Oh he recovered within
seconds but what had happened what was wrong?

We had raced to the hospital, and they took our son from us and started
tests. Tests that had no results, what were they looking for? Well his
lungs might not have formed properly, he may have a hole in the heart,
we're not certain whether his brain has formed properly.., each test was a
hammer blow, each explanation a nightmare scenario.

The next few days passed in a haze, the results were delayed and delayed,
blood cultures, blood sugars, tests, tests, tests. Examinations,
Mmdicines, antibiotics.., tests, tests, tests , ECGs, EEGs, MRIs
Ultrasounds, everything that could be done was done but the answers were
not forthcoming.

Each night for three nights I left the hospital, not knowing if my son
would be there when I woke the next day.

Finally the tests came back - Negative no malformations, no infections, no
defects.., so why was he not breathing?

Babies it seems are born with a Suck, Breathe, Swallow reflex.., our was
not. Daniel does two of the three but forgets the third. He can breathe
and swallow - to give copious amounts of wind. He can breathe and suck,
which in feeding just leads to the milk exploding from his mouth. But the
most disturbing one is that if he sucks his food and remembers to swallow
it.., he can forget to breathe, in addition to which he has reflux, which
again can be exacerbated when he forgets to swallow.

The good news is that he should grow out of it, by the time he is weaned
he'll be able to cope just fine. Until then he is watched and monitored
for every feed, every cough, every hiccup - and lordy does he get hiccups!

So now here we are nearly five weeks later. Our son born at 7lb 10 and
measuring an impressive 2 foot long, is now a thriving 10lb plus and is
rapidly out growing his 0-3 months clothing. His parents are tired beyond
belief yet conversely quite sanguine about the whole thing, after all
there aren't many babies sent home from hospital with that level of
checks.

I go to work at 7am get home at 8pm spend an hour with my wife who then
goes to bed to get some sleep, while I take over the babycare until 1pm.
DW has been made redundant - no there is nothing we can do to fight it her
entire department has been closed down and moved to another office in
another city - but frankly it's a minor concern in the great scheme of
things. The mortgage has protection insurance in both our names as does
the car loan, we'll survive for a few months without two incomes, and
besides it means Daniel gets the love and attention of his parents 24
hours a day in one form or another, which is no bad thing I think you'll
agree.

When Daniel isn't crying for a change, for a feed, for a winding or
because his medication has stopped him going the loo for longer than he'd
like.., he is an absolute angel. His smile is something that we live for
and his little sighs and gurgles as he looks around his world or nestles
in our arms are pure bliss to us.

We made it folks, and we will continue to do so.

Before I sign off this verbose and over due posting I'd just like to again
offer my thanks to everybody who has offered support, advice, and
affection over the last 9 months. Special mention must go to Ericka, who
has been my voice of sanity in this group, but to you all, my repect, my
admiration and my thanks.

Regards

Bob Powell
Husband to Clare for 1 year 3 months
Father to Daniel Fraser for 4 weeks 6 days

Congrats Robert! I'm glad to hear that Clare and Daniel are doing okay!
--

Jamie
Earth Angels:
Taylor Marlys, 1/3/03 -- Little Miss Nature Girl, who got her first wasp
sting! : (
Addison Grace, 9/30/04 -- Little Miss "I'm On My Way!", who has taken her
first unassisted steps, and has two new teeth coming in!

Check out the family! -- www.MyFamily.com, User ID: Clarkguest1, Password:
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Robert Powell wrote:

First let me apologise for not posting any earlier - it's been a traumatic
few weeks but now we're sort of back on track, so for those of you
interested.,

My goodness, what a story! I'm glad he's doing reasonably
well now, and hope the feeding issues continue to improve!
Congratulations on making it through!

Best wishes,
Ericka

Congratulations and welcome to Baby Daniel!

Sharalyn
mom to Alexander James (9/21/01)

What a rollercoaster Robert. You all seem to be handling
it very well.

All best,
Emily