Wednesday, June 25, 2008

First Week like Fire

Man, they sure don't give you a lot to go on. A matter of minutes after Mr. Hunter arrived the hospital was already showing us the door, two nights in partially subsidized Birthcare and then its out on the streets. That's rough on a Dickens-like level.

And they don't tell you what to do, y'know? Not even a few little hints. So it's hardly surprising that little Bean (a nickname we gave the baby because... well, because our brains are all messed up on adoration and sleep deprivation,) spent about as much time in the hospital as he did at home in his first week.


First he was having trouble feeding; being a little premature his mouth was on the small side, and being a little clueless we had no idea what went where. No food led to crying, crying led to sheer bedlam, that led to hospital.

The next day, I don't know, something else happened and we ended up back in hospital, this time with the little man under some big badass lights to toast some jaundice out of his system. I don't remember exactly why jaundice is so bad, but it does make his skin go all yellow, so it was as much an aesthetic decision as anything.


In the following days they brought us back a bunch of times for the same stuff - details escape in the madness of it all - but two things became glaringly obvious: The staff at Starship children's hospital are saint-like wonderful medi-gods & the staff at the regular hospital are a bunch of pricks. Unfair blanket statements, I know, but screw it; it's my blog, and anyone so inept and unpleasant as to motivate a worried mother and possibly ailing child to pack up and flee the ward at 3AM deserves whatever they get.

Hunter's second week of being seems to be shaping up a lot better, everyone's finding their groove (and hopefully a little more sleep.) The chorus of 'don't worry, it gets better' might not have been filthy lies after all.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

Tales from the Birth Canal


We had agreed upon doing this pregnancy as natural and non-invasive as possible, which is of course a hell of a lot easier for me to commit to than Mama. The actual birth ended up being basically the polar opposite of what we were aiming for, but any birth you can walk away from, right?

We turned up a little early for the table we had booked only to find it had been snatched by some North Shore ponce enduring some kind 'emergency'. Bollocks, but we can adapt. Kicking back in some empty prep room for hours as the nurses periodically flit in and out organizing one thing or other, Mama endured not even a flutter of contraction.

When we finally did manage to grab someone's prolonged attention a nurse wheeled in a machine that monitors baby's mojo. We got a particularly fancy version of this machine that can actually detect two heartbeats at once, spiffy huh? Why would we need such extravagance, you might ask; because, as the nurse dutifully informs us, we're having twins. 'Wait, what? This is your second time giving birth, isn't it?' Good to know we're working with professionals here. Identity mix-ups notwithstanding, things proceed smoothly if slowly for the next handful of hours.

Hooked up to an IV drip, Mama got loaded up with some kind of juice that is supposed to kick-start her contractions – only it doesn’t work. The midwives were forced to keep banging up the dosage hour after hour while Mama just lay about, cool as a cat. When the juice level finally reached demigod proportions the cogs started to spin – boy, how they span. Because the process is being brought on suddenly, Mama's body didn’t have the gentle lead up which allows the brain to get all happy off endorphins, as a result the contractions come like the fury of God.

After a few hours of valiant struggle our organic hero submits to an epidural; after which it's all groggy naps and dopey smiles for the next few hours. With mercifully little mucking about baby starts to make an exit about 12PM and is sucking air come 12:29PM.

Not an ideal process, but considering the complications everything went surprisingly well. The professionalism and irrepressible joviality of all the midwives that took up our little challenge simply cannot be overstated, thanks to you all.

More on Hunter's first turbulent week later, once my shaking and nervous ticks die down a little.

Sunday, June 15, 2008

Only Anarchists are Pretty

No time for writing, but click the image for more photos of Hunter's big debut.

Ladies and Gentlemen, introducing...

Hunter.
Born 12:29 PM June 12th 2008. Baby and Mama are both well, too tired for details right now. Just bathe in his radiant awesomeness until I get back.

Wednesday, June 11, 2008

Go Time

Apparently the lovely doctor we talked with yesterday was new to the hospital and hadn't really come to terms with how things work there yet. Rather than tell as "go home and chill" what she actually meant was "we're probably going to have to induce labour tomorrow."

We went to see a (slightly more seasoned) doctor today who gave us the news. Because Mama's waters have already broken there's a very real risk of infection for both her and the the baby, a risk that grows exponentially the longer we wait for labour to kick in naturally. Ideally we would have liked to have done this with as little interference as possible, but it seemed incredibly foolish to jeopardize anyone for that ideal. It will no doubt be incredibly useful to get used to the fact that things are not going to go the way we plan them.

So, 7:30 PM we kick off the show. They managed to slot us in because someone delivered their kid early. That's right, we only just managed to swing a reservation. Maybe if I had slipped the duty nurse a $20 we could have got a delivery room by the window.

Wish us luck, huh?

Tuesday, June 10, 2008

Pop

Years of avidly viewing crap television and movies had led me to believe that the breaking of a pregnant woman's waters was a cataclysmic call-to-panic in which chaotic hilarity ensued. This turned out not to be the case.

About three weeks ahead of his due date and a few days shy of what is generally considered 'full term', our wee man started making grumblings abut getting out. With the eponymous water breakage happening at some inconvenient time during the night at which no decent person can really be bothered stirring, Mama decided to wait until morning to give the hospital a heads up. The occasion was so not momentous, all it really required was a casual stroll down the road with time to stop for quiche.

The doctors do tell us this means baby is on his way, though no contractions yet. We'll be going back tomorrow and keeping an eye out for fever signs, but as we live right next door they saw no reason we couldn't just head home.

So it's a thrilling night of Veronica Mars for us, waters be damned.

Monday, June 9, 2008

Hola

Welcome to my new blog. Before we begin please note; this will in no way be an exciting experience, please keep any and all expectations relatively low. Rather, this blog is a way of keeping in touch with everyone I may not have a chance to, time and travel being restricted with my brand spanking new son on the way. So this'll be a place to dump any of my general comings and goings that have even the most remote chance of being of interest to anyone, at all.

Odds are if you're here you probably know me, for better or worse, please do feel free to leave comments or contact me by email. If you're looking for someone to pay to write things for you and have somehow found yourself on this weird little site instead, might I suggest looking over here instead. If you're some complete stranger, well, that's cool too.

Anyway, I have no idea what is going to end up here, if anything, but friends and family please stay tuned - you know me, this half-assed attempt is about the best I'm likely to manage by way of staying in contact.

That's all for now, signing out.