Infant Sorrow
My mother groaned, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
My mother groaned, my father wept,
Into the dangerous world I leapt;
Helpless, naked, piping loud,
Like a fiend hid in a cloud.
Struggling in my father's hands,
Striving against my swaddling bands,
Bound and weary, I thought best
To sulk upon my mother's breast.
Mamafrog's Log Star Date 22/10/06 Hey there me lovelies. Finally the mail you have all been waiting for. Well now, where to begin. I know you have all been waiting patiently for the details I have been promising but I would like to take this opportunity to say that I am no more adept at getting things done beyond taking care of the wee dude's needs than any other new parent out there. Man, does a baby suck up your time. Even a very well behaved one! But finally, here is the story (from my perspective of course) of our snazzy little guy's entrance into the world.
I would have to say that of the three major life-change experiences I have had in the months as of late (they being birth, pregnancy and the intro of motherhood) I would have to say that I like the former the least and the latter the most. To be a bit more clear...as many of you remember I really didn't enjoy being pregnant very much - month 7 when I wasn't entirely uncomfortable and was not going in to work anymore was probably the best. And month 6 I felt pretty good, other than being allergic to everything on the farm. But the two months I was terribly hot and uncomfortable and downright bitchy, as most of you recall. I also informed some of you that if the babe didn't appear before September 20th he would be forcibly ejected from the premises. Easier said than done.
I was really hoping he would come earlier as my dear mum Colleen and me dear sis Amanda were coming out to see me and him and Colleen is baby crazy (especially as this is her first grandchild, with no others in sight for awhile and arriving on the other side of the globe no less). But September 11th came and went, as did the 12th, 13th, 14th (the day he was "due" to arrive so we celebrated by taking a 1.5hr trip down to the beach), 15th, 16th and so on. Finally the 20th arrived. Thomas and I took my bags and went to the hospital. The reason my doc (a totally wicked dude - I love him - he rocks and if there was some way to see him more often withOUT having another child I would do it!) wanted to induce labour is that from all signs me and the babe and all my inner bits were raring to go, so he figured we should just get a little kick start. So I began taking the medication on Wednesday afternoon. To no avail. Here they give you pills for the first six hours and then an IV drip, which they increase every 10 hours or so until the contractions come quick enough. So I was there, all hooked up to machines that went "beep beep beep" (not quite "Bing") for that entire day. And still nothing happened.
The next day (Sept 21) the doc came back and asked us what we wanted to do. Initially we thought maybe go home, but Dr. Tsai said that often it takes awhile to get going and we should give it one more day. I thought that if it was a choice between going home and being big, bloated, bitchy and uncomfortable in the heat and staying in the air con hospital, I would pick the hospital. So we signed up for the second day.
Friday morning (Sept 22) I woke up and noticed the "real" contractions starting. At about noon they were consistent and noticeably painful and I had finally dilated to 3 cm. At 14:00 they were 4-6 minutes apart but still bearable, although that quickly changed. But 22:00 I couldn't take it anymore and was almost sold on having an epidural. Unfortunately they could not give me one until I was 4 cm. And after 10hrs of intense, painful contractions in rapid succession, I was still at 3 cm. This is what I get for being so bloody concerned with having ripped abs! On top of that, my little guy did NOT enjoy what was happening in there and was fighting back with every ounce of energy he had - very, very counter productive! As if labour wasn't painful enough, my son decides to kick me during the whole thing! At this point I was in tears and not really able to focus on breathing exercises. The doc came back and said that as soon as the surgery was clear, he wanted to do a cesarian. The baby was still ok but the doc was concerned that if labour continued like that, he might - like his mother - go into distress. So we got ready for surgery.
Every jolt on the ride down to surgery was a nightmare. I couldn’t help but think of the skit on Monty Python’s the meaning of life as I rode down, but unfortunately I was NOT smiling! And then the three stretcher changes almost put me over the top. Thomas arrived in surgery and the intern told him he had to wait outside. With almost ferocious certainty, Thomas told him he was coming in, so they decked him out in surgery gear and we went in.
To receive an epidural one has to get into the fetal position (ha ha – the irony! And the pure ridiculousness of having to squish up like a fetus when you are HUGE and in gi-normous amounts of pain, nearly impossible!). But the small sting of the needle in my spine was nothing compared to what I was going through.
The epidural was a strange experience to be sure. Having no experience with drugs of the painkiller nature I was dubious as to the overall effectiveness of the medication. After a minute or so, Frank (my doc) asked me if my one leg had gone numb yet. In fact, both had. They settled me back down lying flat and the tingly sensation crept through my lower body. I became immediately calm. (Thomas commented on how unnerving the change was later). They strapped my arms down (loosely) and put up a curtain under my chin. I was aware of where my feet were and kept telling myself I could move them if I wanted to. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Thomas, all decked out in scrubs and looking more than a little weird, was more than interested to witness this whole procedure. Maybe it was his interest in first aid training. As I said I wasn’t convinced that all sensation in my lower half was gone. And then Thomas said, “Can you feel anything?” and I knew they had begun.
I was totally relieved that I couldn’t feel a thing so I asked him what it looked like. He compared it to that scene in The Empire Strikes back when Han cuts open the Tauntaun to stick Luke inside. Now some would not have appreciated the image, but as I was kind of experiencing it third person it was fascinating. When they got to the layer of abs, Frank said something in Chinese and then to us said, “Good, strong muscle!”. At that point I was flattered, although I would rue this fact later. I could feel my body being moved around only by proxy to the parts that were still retaining sensation. And then Frank said, “Are you ready?”, and I felt force or pressure on my abdomen pushing up toward my head. Then I saw the look on Thomas’ face - his eyes nearly came out of his head and then kinda like a whooshing sensation the other way. A second later, our dear boy started crying and Thomas looked down at me with tear in his eyes and tears came to me as well. Our little Jude was finally out and howling like there was no tomorrow!
I would have to say that of the three major life-change experiences I have had in the months as of late (they being birth, pregnancy and the intro of motherhood) I would have to say that I like the former the least and the latter the most. To be a bit more clear...as many of you remember I really didn't enjoy being pregnant very much - month 7 when I wasn't entirely uncomfortable and was not going in to work anymore was probably the best. And month 6 I felt pretty good, other than being allergic to everything on the farm. But the two months I was terribly hot and uncomfortable and downright bitchy, as most of you recall. I also informed some of you that if the babe didn't appear before September 20th he would be forcibly ejected from the premises. Easier said than done.
I was really hoping he would come earlier as my dear mum Colleen and me dear sis Amanda were coming out to see me and him and Colleen is baby crazy (especially as this is her first grandchild, with no others in sight for awhile and arriving on the other side of the globe no less). But September 11th came and went, as did the 12th, 13th, 14th (the day he was "due" to arrive so we celebrated by taking a 1.5hr trip down to the beach), 15th, 16th and so on. Finally the 20th arrived. Thomas and I took my bags and went to the hospital. The reason my doc (a totally wicked dude - I love him - he rocks and if there was some way to see him more often withOUT having another child I would do it!) wanted to induce labour is that from all signs me and the babe and all my inner bits were raring to go, so he figured we should just get a little kick start. So I began taking the medication on Wednesday afternoon. To no avail. Here they give you pills for the first six hours and then an IV drip, which they increase every 10 hours or so until the contractions come quick enough. So I was there, all hooked up to machines that went "beep beep beep" (not quite "Bing") for that entire day. And still nothing happened.
The next day (Sept 21) the doc came back and asked us what we wanted to do. Initially we thought maybe go home, but Dr. Tsai said that often it takes awhile to get going and we should give it one more day. I thought that if it was a choice between going home and being big, bloated, bitchy and uncomfortable in the heat and staying in the air con hospital, I would pick the hospital. So we signed up for the second day.
Friday morning (Sept 22) I woke up and noticed the "real" contractions starting. At about noon they were consistent and noticeably painful and I had finally dilated to 3 cm. At 14:00 they were 4-6 minutes apart but still bearable, although that quickly changed. But 22:00 I couldn't take it anymore and was almost sold on having an epidural. Unfortunately they could not give me one until I was 4 cm. And after 10hrs of intense, painful contractions in rapid succession, I was still at 3 cm. This is what I get for being so bloody concerned with having ripped abs! On top of that, my little guy did NOT enjoy what was happening in there and was fighting back with every ounce of energy he had - very, very counter productive! As if labour wasn't painful enough, my son decides to kick me during the whole thing! At this point I was in tears and not really able to focus on breathing exercises. The doc came back and said that as soon as the surgery was clear, he wanted to do a cesarian. The baby was still ok but the doc was concerned that if labour continued like that, he might - like his mother - go into distress. So we got ready for surgery.
Every jolt on the ride down to surgery was a nightmare. I couldn’t help but think of the skit on Monty Python’s the meaning of life as I rode down, but unfortunately I was NOT smiling! And then the three stretcher changes almost put me over the top. Thomas arrived in surgery and the intern told him he had to wait outside. With almost ferocious certainty, Thomas told him he was coming in, so they decked him out in surgery gear and we went in.
To receive an epidural one has to get into the fetal position (ha ha – the irony! And the pure ridiculousness of having to squish up like a fetus when you are HUGE and in gi-normous amounts of pain, nearly impossible!). But the small sting of the needle in my spine was nothing compared to what I was going through.
The epidural was a strange experience to be sure. Having no experience with drugs of the painkiller nature I was dubious as to the overall effectiveness of the medication. After a minute or so, Frank (my doc) asked me if my one leg had gone numb yet. In fact, both had. They settled me back down lying flat and the tingly sensation crept through my lower body. I became immediately calm. (Thomas commented on how unnerving the change was later). They strapped my arms down (loosely) and put up a curtain under my chin. I was aware of where my feet were and kept telling myself I could move them if I wanted to. I couldn’t have been more wrong. Thomas, all decked out in scrubs and looking more than a little weird, was more than interested to witness this whole procedure. Maybe it was his interest in first aid training. As I said I wasn’t convinced that all sensation in my lower half was gone. And then Thomas said, “Can you feel anything?” and I knew they had begun.
I was totally relieved that I couldn’t feel a thing so I asked him what it looked like. He compared it to that scene in The Empire Strikes back when Han cuts open the Tauntaun to stick Luke inside. Now some would not have appreciated the image, but as I was kind of experiencing it third person it was fascinating. When they got to the layer of abs, Frank said something in Chinese and then to us said, “Good, strong muscle!”. At that point I was flattered, although I would rue this fact later. I could feel my body being moved around only by proxy to the parts that were still retaining sensation. And then Frank said, “Are you ready?”, and I felt force or pressure on my abdomen pushing up toward my head. Then I saw the look on Thomas’ face - his eyes nearly came out of his head and then kinda like a whooshing sensation the other way. A second later, our dear boy started crying and Thomas looked down at me with tear in his eyes and tears came to me as well. Our little Jude was finally out and howling like there was no tomorrow!
Then of course the pediatrician took Jude away and Thomas disappeared from my view. Frank began stitching me up and I felt a bunch of painless tugging on my lower half. Thomas came back after a few minutes and said, "He's beautiful! He looks just like your dad and he's got the biggest scrotum I've ever seen!" Men, eh? (Kaz Cooke - my Australian authority on everything baby says that it is normal for the private bits for newborn babies to be a bit swollen at birth. Although others have commented much as Thomas did since the great ordeal! ;) ) Jude scored an 8 out of 10 on the initial APGAR test and then a 9 out of 10 on the second. Already an overachiever!
After his tests, a screaming, red and wrinkly Jude was brought back to me and put in the crook of my left arm so I finally got a look at him. His face was red, his hands were blue and he was inconsolable. Apparently he did NOT want to come out that day! Then they took him down to the baby room and Frank finished sewing me up (took about twenty minutes). At some point after that I was wheeled back to my room where my ma and sis were waiting for us.
At 04:00 Jude was brought back to me to attempt his first docking on the mothership as a solo fighter. He took to the breast like a professional. A nurse later told me that she had never seen a baby take to it so fast. I believe it was because he got lots of practice in the womb. We had several 3-D ultrasounds taken while I was 8 months pregnant and every time he was sucking on his umbilical cord. Practice makes perfect right? He stayed with us until it was bath time and we finally got some sleep. But how could one sleep on such a momentus day?
The details:
Jude Anarion Thomas was forcibly ejected from the premises on Saturday, September 23, 2006 at 00:19. He was born on the Autumn Equinox of this year and also on the cusp of Virgo and Libra, to be ever plauged by indecisiveness. He weighed 3276g (7lbs and 3oz) and measured 50cm (19in). And from the very beginning, he was a cute-T!
-- "Nothing is worth more than this day." - J.W. Goethe
5 comments:
what a harrowing account! I'm in awe, Nelle, but also I have to admit, a tad deterred ... give Jude a kiss of congratulations for me. I will do my best to visit you in this coming year or perhaps we can go diving together somewhere with the little ninja.
Wow, I've never heard such a vivid, first-person description of a Caesarian before. Thank you so much for sharing, babe. I'm glad we can follow your adventures a little easier now and find out how you guys are out there. Take care!
God Bless the epidural.
What beautiful, wonderful news! (I knew I was still on this listserve for some reason). Congrats!
:-)
Leila
Even if my mum only went through an eighth of what you went through, I owe her a heck of a lot of personal, loving old age care when she gets past looking after herself.
Keep this to show to Jude when he grows up. No crappy nursing homes for you, lady.
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