Jun
23
Niamh
Originally uploaded by chrisbrennan
Jun
18
Niamh & Joanne
Originally uploaded by chrisbrennan
On my way to work and Niamh has already pushed me out of my spot.
Jun
14
So, we’ve decide that the best course of action is for Joanne to have an cesarian delivery. I was doing fine right up to the point when Joanne asked me if I was ok. All the pain and fear and she still wanted to know if I was doing ok. I welled up with tears but managed to hold back from a full on cry. The midwife put his hand on my shoulder and told me that everything would be ok with both mum and baby and said that I should look at the heart monitors. The baby’s was the same chilled out rate it had been and this was a good thing.
We were wheeled round to theatre and I had to wait outside to put on the gown and hat. In retrospect they made me wait outside because they were lifting Joanne on to the operating table and this was an incredibly painful procedure so it was best I wasn’t there to get in the way. Once inside, I was told to sit on a chair at Joanne’s head and talk to her. Obviously having been asked to talk to her and keep her occupied I ran out of things to talk about. Luckily, the anesthetist was a better conversationalist that me and kept Joanne busy with chat about Indian IT workers at the Halifax bank. Meanwhile I grabbed the handle at the head of the bed and the consultant made his incision. You can’t see anything as there’s a big screen but Joanne’s whole body shook and I heard what sounded like someone taking an enormous breath. Seconds later a bloody baby was thrust upon is to look at.
If you have a cesarian section you can’t do all the stuff you see in movies like holding the baby straight away and cutting the cord, that pleasure falls to a pediatrician. She turned to us and said ‘it’s a girl’ and then brought her over for me to hold. The relief was amazing, but so was the joy. I can’t explain it but the happiness wasn’t just relief it was a strange kind of happy, one that I’ve never experienced before. Nearly two weeks later I still have the same happy glow and even though I’m tired and have shit filled nappies to deal with I could happily spend the next four of five years just looking at my baby and know that not even an iPhone that could send MMS could make me happier.
I do find it strange that of all the babies born on the 1st of June 2008 we were lucky enough to have the most beautiful one.
Jun
09
Jun
05
Niamh Lesley began her life at 16:11 on June 1st 2008 she weighed in at 7lbs 7oz and came out backwards. The labour began normally enough on Sunday evening when Joanne’s waters broke, unlike the movies it wasn’t a tidal wave of liquid more a ’substantial dribble’. We went to the hospital where we had a check-up and, as expected, were sent home to wait for the real labour to begin.
Joanne started to get contractions at about midnight but it wasn’t until 6 in the morning that they were well and truly regular. So with hospital bag, snacks and camera in tow we took the short journey to Calderdale Royal Hospital and took the lift to the second floor and the Midwife Lead Unit.
So far, so good. The contractions continued as normal, increasing in regularity and severity but overall things were progressing well but slowly. Blood pressure was measured and pee checked every hour, Joanne’s that is and the baby’s heartbeat listened to. Lovely. After a few more hours Joanne asked for some pain relief and in came the gas and air. A few more hours and things started to move along as did the pain. At 11:00 Joanne had an examination and 4cms was the result. with 6cms to go Joanne decided that pain relief was the order of the day and some Pethidine duly arrived.
Scoot forward a few hours and the pain of contractions has really begin to ramp up and at 15:15 the midwife decided it was time for another examination. The result was not really what we expected to hear.
His exact words were “Erm…”
After several hours of labour this is not what you want to hear, trust me. When he’d had a bit more of a feel he looked at me and Joanne and said in a hushed quizzical tone asked “have you ever been breech”.
Nobody’s ever been sure we said.
“Erm…” he said again.
So, after the longest pause in history the midwife said “I’m going to listen to baby and then go ask for the consultant to have a feel because I think this baby is coming out breech”
The consultant duly arrived and had a rummage round n Joanne’s nether regions and said “Hmmm…” At this point Joanne’s pain barrier was disappearing over the horizon behind her and I was waving goodbye to my cool calm and collected supporting role status and taking on the part of a man about to lose it.
A few seconds later a scanner arrived and after it had taken about 7 hours* to start-up (gee thanks Intel) the scan confirmed that our baby was indeed coming out arse first.
As with all medical stories it was now a case of choices and ours were to have a cesarian section or try and deliver the baby. Taking onboard the advice of the four people in the room we opted for an emergence cesarian. Now the real action began.
Up to this point there’d been a maximum of four NHS staff in the room and most of the time none. When the consultant asked us what we wanted and C-section was the answer he said “Nurse, prepare theatre” There was no please, no thank you, just an order. It wasn’t a rude statement, it wasn’t aggressive but it was said with a quiet confidence that I shall remember for a very long time. I will remember it because it was at this point that the 20 people who’d been waiting outside the room were suddenly inside doing ‘things’. Five were doing paper work of some sort or another and three were administering drugs to Joanne while another spoke to Joanne about the procedure.
I looked at the clock, it was 15:20.
TBC
*Actual time may have been about 10 seconds