Sunday, 24 June 2012

Marmaduke arrives!


Felix Boucher Brown.
18th June 2012.
23:40
36 weeks 4 days
3.45kg/7lb6oz

(Boucher is his middle name)

Oh my.

At about 6.30 am on Monday I felt a weird twinge in my ladyparts and decided I needed the toilet.

By the time I got to the bathroom I was drenched. "oh" was about all I could manage. I sat on the toilet and leaked for a while and then I finally woke up and realised that what was going on was actually going on.

"Ray, I think My waters broke"

Ray woke up in an instant and became super organised.

Called the hospital, got my bag, got my notes, fetched the car, forgot my bag, forgot my notes, got me, notes and bag into car.

It was a beautiful morning, the streets were almost empty.

We arrived on the labour ward and were put into a small room. questioned and strapped to the monitor.



An evil doctor explained that I needed an internal and proceeded to evilly torture me with his evilness. "Only 1cm but I did a little stretch" Owowowow!. I may sue. Or send the boys round after him.

 Before things became scary.



We were continually monitored for a while and just as they were about to STOP monitoring, and let me labour untethered, baby's heart decelerated. And again and again with each strengthening contraction. So the monitor was left on.

The day continued and the contractions became stronger and stronger.

I was given entonox to suck on. Ahhhhh. But what I really wanted was to get up and move.

Baby's heart kept decelerating.

By the evening I was in heaps of pain and being coached in efficient entonox use by Ray who had used it for both his endoscopy and otherendoscopy.

Baby's heart began deceleratiing below 60 bpm and the midwives began preparing me for surgery "just in case".

Ha.

"My" midwife K (who was there for George and Little Poppet, and who I have had appointments with throughout this pregnancy) just happened to come on shift to cover for someone and stayed with us from then on.

There were some rather surreal moments with doctors trying to get me to make informed consent and me trying to bury the pain under the entonox.

Wow. No one told me that getting the spinal going took SO LONG. Contractions at this point were back to back (and I was only 2cm dilated!) and I couldn't stop sucking on the mask.

Finally there was no more pain. They laid me down and pulled up the curtain. Ray appeared at my shoulder and kissed me.


At 11:20pm we heard our son cry loud and long.

I think I said, "he's alive".

Ray went to see him and there it was. A large true knot in the cord. (we have video - coming soon)


The midwives were quite impressed.

They were also impressed with the "chunkiness of the cord".

K bought the bit of knotted cord to show me: I saw his cord before I saw my son!


And then there he was on my chest in front of me.



Our son.

Alive.

Perfect.

Real.



Are you crying yet?
I'm crying again!



2 hours later I was finally stitched up after what the surgeon described as "oozing" but which Ray described as a huge puddle of blood under the table. I don't think it was that bad because I'm not anaemic and I didn't need a transfusion.



Not the birth experience we wanted. But the very exact birth we wanted.


Because it saved his life.


If my waters hadn't broke early I wouldn't have been monitored so closely and the decelerations might not have been picked up. I might have laboured my beautiful natural birth and most likely delivered a dead baby boy killed by his own cord.

I HAD to go into labour early and I HAD to have that c-section to get my real live boy.

So that's ok then.


Felix had been a name on my list since I began making name lists for this boy. Ray wasn't keen, but then again Ray wasn't keen on any boy names. Despite hours of internetting on name sites he couldn't find one. Not one. And then he found one which he didn't really like but he felt he had to contribute to the list.

Felix means lucky or happy.

And this boy is lucky. These parents are lucky. The way the day went was lucky.

And he will be happy.

Felix.


 Bundle of fluffy love

 A room corner of a hospital ward with a view.


 Skin to skin after one of our most successful booby feeds.


 Proud daddy. Very proud indeed.
Fatherhood has been a revelation so far for Ray.
He is overcome by the force of his emotions.


Just me in a hospital ward for 6. Bliss.
Midwives on tap.
Peace and quiet.
Sadly it only lasted one day! 


 Who needs a crib?


 Well I suppose sometimes I have to let him go...
But not far.


Felix is a sleepy little boy! He is jaundiced which makes him lethargic but he also has some weird aversion to the boob! He will launch himself at my nipples, suck briefly and then shove himself away with the most disgusted look on his face! It's so comical. And frustrating too.

I have had the most amazing help in the hospital from a team of midwives determined to help us breastfeed.
I have been woken every 3 hours to try this and try that, to pump, to manhandle poor Felix into all sorts of contortions. A special care baby nurse spent most of a night with us helping. They are wonderful.

We, on the other hand, are not there yet.

As of Friday morning I absolutely HAD to get out of that hospital. Most of the other women in that ward had been coming and going in a matter of hours, even other c-section women. 
And there I was, stuck.
I had a huge hor-moany teary meltdown and was scooped into the arms of a midwife who began negotiations to get us home.

We promised to feed our boy as often as we could. Pump, breast, formula. Goat tethered in the garden. 
Whatever.
Ray dashed out to buy supplies.
(no, you can't buy a goat at 8.30 pm in Torquay on a friday - whodathaughtit?)

We got home about 10pm.

And collapsed into a squidgy heap of family bliss.

I think we emerged from bed at about midday on saturday just in time for my Mum to turn up, rubber gloves in hand to "help". (Ray has been alone with a kitchen for a week - imagine)
And then a midwife visit to take poor Felix's blood once again to test his Jaundice levels - still below that line!
Woo hoo.

Right now our priority is a jaundice-free, alert little boy. And that means feeding lots. Pumped milk and formula. Oh and sun bathing by the window too. Not that there's much in the way of sun...

But we haven't finished wrestling with the boob yet!

Any tips on how to get my little sucker on the boob full time after using bottles for a few weeks would be much appreciated!

 Let's try a nipple shield.


 Nah, lets try daddy...

mornin'



The very worst thing is that I have come out of hospital with an awful cold that seems to be seeping into my chest. Oh. my. god coughing with your gut trying to heal is so very very much NOT fun!

Last night Ray sent me to bed at 9.30 and I slept until 2.30am when he came to bed with Felix. 
the most sleep I have had in months.
Awesome.
There are definite benefits to pumping/supplementing.
As of last nights poonami Felix has just started pooing regular poos.  One rather scared Ray dealt with the poonami all alone too!
And as of this morning the jaundice seems to be improving.
Pure bliss.






Thursday, 14 June 2012

36 weeks


Oh my.

Dear New Pelvic Pain,
I do not like you. One. Little. Bit. Your friend Achy Hip Pain is bad enough but you make me feel as if someone has kicked me very hard in the external lady parts. Compound this with the occasional kung fu kick or jujitsu chop to the internal lady parts and I am squeaking and jumping with gay abandon. Eek.

Dear twitchy restless feelings,
Be productive for goodness sake. I need to finish the lining for the crib and tidy the mess make more space in the bedroom. Making me jiggle my leg up and down is not clever, funny or helpful.

Dear son-of-ours-as-yet-unnamed,
As of this time next week do feel free to drop in on us for some serious cuddles. In fact, please turn your dear little head in the right direction (down - in case you aren't sure) and get a wriggle on. I do not want to be induced and I do not want a c-section. I will take either if necessary, but oh my, wouldn't it be nice not to? And I promise on all that is chocolate that you will have a name.

Dear husband of mine,
I love you to infinity and beyond the beyond that is infinitely beyond infinity. BUT. Eating the remainder of a heavily pregnant woman's malted-milk-with-chocolate biscuits because you had a "snack atack" at midnight after visiting your friend is NOT ON. Even if you "tried" not to eat another and then another and then "tried" to save a few and then failed to save even a crumb.  They were given over to your care to ensure that I didn't eat them all in one go (as I cannot be trusted not to binge), not so you could break that sacred trust between husband and wife.

Dear mother of mine,
I love you but no, you do not need to hold me up on the way to the pool nor can you help me go faster than a slow waddle, undress me at the pool, stop me from falling at the pool side (I haven't) or dress me after the pool. I have mucho pain at times but I am not an invalid and seriously, you are 80 and would go down with me. Helping me with my socks however, is very much appreciated.

Dear hypnobirthing mp3,
Please stop putting me to sleep. Granted I am listening to you in bed. At night. When I am exhausted. But I am going to bed earlier to listen to you telling me that I will find the whole birth "experience" "enjoyable" *snort* and it is decidedly unfair of you to be this boring. On the other hand, thank you for putting me to sleep.

Dear boobs of mine,
Please work in the way in which nature intended. I will of course forgive you if you don't but pretty please?

Dear fleabay,
Please stop tempting me with your cute baby clothes bundles and bargains. Please. We need to eat too.

Dear bed and assorted pillows,
Please please please try to be comfortable for more than a couple of hours tonight. Mmmmkay?





Thursday, 7 June 2012

35 weeks ( a bit of a moan and lots of wedding photos)



So anyway, theoretically Marmaduke could be here in as soon as two weeks time and no longer than 4 weeks.

Damn this boy needs a name!

I am increasingly uncomfortable, kicks huuurt and the Braxton Hicks are getting painful and more frequent despite copious amounts of water. I'm doing very little, walking even less and when I'm not weepily hormonal I can't quite get my head into gear to do much. I'm trying to eat small portions but sometimes failing because I'm starving. Followed by vicious trapped wind and/or vomiting which leaves my belly even more sore and uncomfortable... moan moan moan... etc etc.

And I wouldn't trade a single blinking moment of it for the world.

I'm getting fearful.

I'm getting excited.

The family crib is in da house.

Goodness I am SO ready for this boy to be here and SO unprepared for life-with-baby that it's jangling up my head something silly!


On the other hand.

A few lots of wedding photos:

Our rings

My Dad, me and my bridesmaid Jessica (Ray's... now my niece)

 Ray and his best man

 My Dad and Jess waiting while I fill in forms

 I sort of had to drag my Dad down the short aisle!

Gazing in adoration at hubby to be.

 All done!

The registrar who conducted our ceremony.

 Almost snogging...

 A motley crew



Family (mostly Ray's!)

 Me and him


Holy schmoly I look like a heffalump with my enormoMarmabump!
 Rings again

 The biggest chocolate cake I have ever had the privilege of meeting! 1 foot square.

It was delicious although I was plying folks with packages of the thing to take home or else I would be living on it until Marmaduke got here... hmmm... and oh the cup cakes! I wish I could have sent you all some!







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