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#11
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Congratulations! (As I wipe my eyes...)
Welcome, Daniel. -- Anita -- |
#12
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Fantastic story! What an ordeal you all had, I'm glad Daniel is doing well
now. -- Amy Mum to Carlos born sleeping 20/11/02, & Ana born screaming 30/06/04 http://www.freewebs.com/carlos2002/ http://www.babiesonline.com/babies/a/ana%5Fj%5F2004/ My blog: http://spaces.msn.com/members/querer-hijo-querer-hija/ "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 |
#13
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Such a good story teller, I'm sure you did the story justice. It is
just amazing, isn't it? The whole baby-coming-out-of-the-body thing? The power, the love, the ensuing exhaustion! I hope the feeding/breathing thing works itself out sooner than they predicted. Enjoy every moment you possibly can. Congratulations to you both, and welcome Daniel! Jo (Mum to Will) |
#14
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Congratulations on your son! It was great to get a man's perspective too.
Hope your big boy outgrows his troubles soon! -- Chookie -- Sydney, Australia (Replace "foulspambegone" with "optushome" to reply) "In Melbourne there is plenty of vigour and eagerness, but there is nothing worth being eager or vigorous about." Francis Adams, The Australians, 1893. |
#15
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"Robert Powell" wrote in message ... 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. Wow ! Congratulations! I was moved by your very well-written birth story. What an amazing story! ((((Hugs)))) Carl |
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