Disco Knitter

In which Plan C comes into effect, in full detail.  Don’t read on if you’re squeamish - this is my story, as much as I remember 24 hours later.

Wednesday, I had the cleaners come, I visited Miriam and Oscar, I visited Anna and Lara, and then I picked Mark up from work.  It was a pretty full day, and I was so focussed on encouraging Inigo to make his grand entrance, that I wasn’t exactly focussed on how he was doing.

By the time we got home, it was about 10pm, and I sat down with a big bowl of Bravo Lemon Lime Gelato (brand mentioned because it is the stuff of legend), hoping to kick start a bit of activity.  By the time I went to bed an hour or so later, I still hadn’t noticed much in the way of Inigo activity, and I started to get a little concerned.

The next morning, instead of sleeping through the coffee delivery (Mark is a wonderful husband), I woke up, sat up, drank the coffee, and waited for the espresso to pass through the placenta and excite some action.  Two hours and a spa later, I resolved to take myself off to hospital for a check.

I arrived at hospital just before 11am, and was hooked up to a CTG pretty quickly.  The machine found a heartbeat that was racing a bit, and we resolved to watch it for a while to see if it settled while the coffee wore off, and to watch for movement (which was minimal).

After an hour on the machine, the heartrate dipped a bit, which prompted the midwives to consult with a doctor, who decided that the trace was worrying enough that I wouldn’t be leaving hospital without a baby, either by induction or C-section.  I rang Mark, Mum, and the Doula, and told them all to be prepared.

The Doctor did an “internal”.  If you’ve had a baby, you know exactly how unpleasant this is, if you haven’t, I’ll spare you the details.  Suffice it to say that although it was unpleasant for me, Inigo found it really distressing, and his heartrate dipped alarmingly.

The Doctor found that my bits weren’t anywhere near ready for labour, so a C-section was decided upon, a consent form was called for, and things went very Monty Python for a little while.

My blood pressure had dropped, so I was feeling a little woozy, they turned me on my side to relieve the pressure, and both of us started to feel better.

The senior midwife returned, had a chat to the scalpel happy doctor, and convinced her that the surgery could wait at least until Mark arrived!

I handed my mobile to the lovely Leilani (one of the student midwives that has been looking after me) to follow up support people (and mainly to find Mark), as they wheeled me off to an ancient operating theatre.  No complaints about the hospital at all, and the staff have all been beyond compare - but wheeling a frightened woman into an operating theatre that looks like a morgue, and then insisting on sticking needles in her spine before her husband shows up is a little bit mean.  I understand that they were doing their best for me and my baby, but at the time I was a very small scared little person.

Just before the second needle went in, Leilani managed to let me know that Mark was just outside, and would be allowed in as soon as the anaesthetist was done with me.  Soon he was by my side (in a very silly outfit, and I couldn’t feel my toes.  They put up a sheet so I couldn’t see all the action, and I asked them politely only to give me the barest detail about what was going on.

My blood pressure dropped again, and I began to feel nauseous.  I was given something to raise my blood pressure, which helped for a little while.  Soon my blood pressure dropped again, and I was throwing up violently as I felt Inigo being lifted from my open abdomen, and heard him cry for the first time.  2:18pm, 29/11/07

At which point I became aware that there was an “issue”.  Turns out there were a few issues, and one of them has potentially nasty consequences.  We’ll going to be ok, but it’s been a hard day for our new family.

Inigo had always been a pretty active little guy, hence all our worries about turning him.  And that’s why I was suspicious that he was so quiet on wednesday.  It turns out that his placenta had started to deteriorate, the amniotic fluid had also diminished, and that he’d done a poo into it at some point.  And then his breathing reflex had kicked in before he was out in the world, and he’d inhaled some poo into his lungs.

This happens quite a bit, and the consequences range from a few days on oxygen, to total loss of lung function, and death.  Inigo breathed on his own straight away, so it was pretty likely that his issues were going to be on the more minor side - but we had to wait and see.

I was allowed to see him for about a minute before he was taken off to the special care ward.  Mark went with him, and I was stitched up and wheeled into recovery.  Again the lovely Leilani was there with me, and managed to talk them into letting mum come down to the recovery ward so I didn’t have to be alone.  Which was wonderful, because they kept me there for ages while I waited for the spinal block to wear off enough so that I could feel my toes again.

Finally I was wheeled upstairs and allowed to see Inigo.  He was naked under a heat lamp, with a space helmet over his head delivering oxygen.  He had electrodes and a cannula, and SP02 monitor taped on to him, and he looked like a little alien space man.  And because I was all wired up too, all I could do was hold his little hand and stroke his skinny little rib cage.

I stayed with him for a few hours.  I couldn’t hold him, I couldn’t feed him, I couldn’t even give him a kiss, or change his nappy.  But I did start to feel a bit connected to him, and I have certainly seen lots of uglier babies than this one.

Eventually, I made it to my room at about 7pm.  I still couldn’t really feel my toes, but the pain of the surgery was starting to break through, and the weight of the days events was starting to hit home.

My parents were there, Marks parents were there, so I decided to postpone my meltdown for a little while.  Christine came for a visit, Mum and Dad left, Bev and Ted left and came back with food (thanks!).  Everyone left at around 11pm, and I tried to sleep.

Finally gave up at around 6am when the drugs ran out, and I’ve spent today arguing for more drugs, between visits to the special care nursery, and nursing my wounds.  I have expressed a little milk, which has been given to Inigo via syringe.  I won’t be allowed to feed him until he is off the oxygen, which might be Monday.  Or it might not. 

So apparently my “maternal instincts” are developed enough to have got him through what could have been nasty if I hadn’t acted.  It’s a good feeling.  While the outcome hasn’t been wonderful, it’s a lot better than the alternative, and it does look like we’ll be able to take the little guy home sooner or later.

In the meantime, we were able to convince the special care nurses to let me hold him for a few minutes tonight.  We had a little skin to skin contact, and being able to hold him for the first time brought such a rush of emotion that I can’t possibly write about it without losing the plot completely.

Tonight, I have managed to convince them to give me a sleeping pill, so I am looking forward to not being a raving lunatic tomorrow.

Thanks everyone for your text messages, comments, emails, flowers, phone calls and esoteric vibes.  Everything is appreciated, and I look forward to us both being healthy enough to introduce him to you all.

born 2:18pm, 29/11/07 by emergency c/s
3.09 kg

He’s on oxygen and a drip, but will be ok.
Mum’s recovering from the surgery, and Dad’s recovering from the shock - though apparently that doesn’t wear off for at least 18 years.

edit: apologies for the delay in approving comments. We’ve been a little bit busy

Except a clean house - that is worth getting excited about!

Our last cleaners sacked us (apparently some people think that having rabbits in the house means too much fur!), so we went back to the old cleaners we had in Denistone. My parents thought they were a bit ineffectual, but I always thought they did a good job of the bathroom and kitchen (they even cleaned the microwave!), and they were cheap! And after the last lot of cleaners wouldn’t shut up, I began to see that Eric and Peter’s lack of English wasn’t such a handicap after all. Plus, I knew I could trust them in the house without me there, so as soon as they arrived today I gave them money and went out - and came home to a gloriously clean house. People, it’s safe to visit us again!

I stopped in Granville at El Jannah and El Sweetie to get supplies for Miriam. She’s still in hospital, and the vegetarian food selection is getting more and more dire. The woman has been through an ordeal, and now has to breastfeed a small person who lost a bit of weight before he was born, so I thought it was reasonable to get her some tasty and nutritious food.

So she doesn’t have to eat that…

So we finally have a decent picture of Oscar, and I got to cuddle him today for the first time. He seems to think I’m not too bad.

I wish he’d tell Inigo that the world isn’t such a bad place, that it’s OK to come out…

I had acupuncture today, and a reasonably hot curry for lunch. The passenger had better get the idea soon…

Born sometime today, 3.2kg, Miriam and Oscar both doing well. No other details available at this point. I am absolutely dying to see a picture at least, but I respect their desire for some time without visitors. I am sure I’ll get to spend plenty of quality time with all the Lanes in the not too distant future.

I’ve been having contractions all day, some coinciding with actual pain, but nothing to get excited about. Went to pub knitting, and am glad I did - sitting around at home focussing on my belly would quickly drive me insane. Thinking that Inigo is considering making an appearance over the next couple of days, but he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry.

Saw Kerry today, and she looks happier and more relaxed than I have seen her in months. It looks like the final senate seat will go to the liberal candidate, and Kerry will be free to pursue other interests after the middle of the year. Like being an Auntie!

Am also close to making a decision about the camera. Harvey Norman has the Canon 400D body with 18-55mm, and 75-300mm lens for $1188. I played with Andrew’s 350D today, and it is a very nice camera. It also handles low light really well, and has a good, cheap portrait lens available. Of course, if I have an ugly baby, I won’t need such a good camera….

Got a text message at 7am this morning. Looks like Miriam is in labour - or at least pre-labour.

Yay!

But never thought I would get…

1. A Rudd win.
Check

2. Howard to lose in Bennelong.
As at 1.10am, almost check

3. Kerry to get re-elected.
As at 1.10am, still possible, but likely to be unknown for some time to come.

So I’m pretty happy. It’s now safe for Inigo to be born, a new generation who has never known a Howard government.

And something I didn’t expect, but that made me deliriously happy - Charlotte contacted me. I was so happy, I cried. It’s been far too long.

Inigo is going to be born into a happy world

SMH article about Kerry today.

Yesterday I had my 40 week checkup. Inigo was head down again (he has been doing somersaults through the week, but I had decided not to let it stress me), but is no longer “engaged”. They are happy for me to keep pottering along until next friday, when I will have another checkup, and then see the Drs clinic to talk about possible induction. Not sure how long I will get before they induce, but the fact that we don’t even talk about it till 41 weeks is encouraging. I’ve done some reading about induction, and my feeling is that going into spontaneous labour sounds like much more fun. Well, not exactly fun, but you get the idea.

After seeing the midwives, I went into town to hang out with Miriam, who was 4 days overdue yesterday. I took her to an acupuncture appointment (with the hope of bringing on labour), and then we had pedicures. So at least when we can see our toes again, they will be pretty (and hopefully not puffy). Miriam is booked in to the birth centre at RPA, and will be induced on monday or tuesday if she doesn’t go into labour over the weekend. So any spare “go into labour vibes” would be handy for her this weekend. Either way, looks like we’ll get to meet Oscar sooner rather than later (and I’ll win the race for last).

And on Monday, there is a new Kylie Minogue album out. Woo Hoo!

Today is election day, and hopefully the end of the Howard Years. Remember to vote Green in the Senate, and we might just wrest the balance of power from the coalition - so that the Labour party can actually pass legislation if they get in.

I’m off to do a bit of housework, then drag my bloated carcass off to a polling both to try to get the voters of Berowra to vote Green in the Senate. It’s Phillip Ruddock’s electorate (and one of the safest Liberal seats in the country, but I will do what I can…

A little while ago, I started reading TheoreticGal’s blog.  Tina is a knitter, but she also sews, and talks about nerdy stuff like sci fi, and she is just generally very clever, educated, witty, and stylish. 

I left a few comments on her blog, and she commented on my blog, and we started a correspondence.  Except - Tina puts me to shame.  For every word I write to her, I get a paragraph back - always thoughtful, always considered, always interesting and helpful.  Tina already has one child, and another on the way - and she’s been helping me to adjust my expectations of parenting, and especially of parenting a BOY child.  We’ve mourned a lack of girlyness in our lives, and bonded over a common love of Torchwood. 

She offered to send me an episode that I missed, so I sent her my address, and today, the DVD arrived.

And with it, the most amazing package of baby stuff!  Please refer to her blog for better pictures (you don’t want to hear the camera whinge again, I know), but here are the most adorable modern cloth nappies that she made me.  The one on the left is cotton jersey with (cool) trucks and cars, and the one on the right is cotton towelling.  Both come with matching boosters, and I am totally in love.  These are coming with me to the hospital so that Inigo can come home in one of them.

And if that wasn’t amazing enough, she also included this gorgeous set of 2 x washcloths, muslin wrap, and burp cloth, all very beautifully edged in Amy Butler fabric!  I am no quilter, but even I know that Amy Butler is special!

Tina, I am overwhelmed by your generosity, I have no idea how to thank you enough!

And I didn’t put the Liberals last. In the past week, the Christian Democrats put a flyer in my letterbox, advertising that they are against Islamic immigration and gay rights. Apparently, Fred Nile is Worse than John Howard. Who’d a thunk it?

I have visited the nephew, who gave me a big grin as soon as he saw me, even though I haven’t seen him in a week, and have hired cleaners. They can’t start till next wednesday, so if you visit in the meantime please bear in mind that I am even less interested in housework than I am in cooking. All of my attention has been absorbed by chocolate ice cream and intimacy with the couch. And on that note…

A couple of days ago, I was chatting with Miriam (who was “due” on Monday, we are having a race for last) about pregnancy brain. She has just moved house, and is dealing with unpacking, and getting ready for a baby, and was complaining about being rather too vague to make the job easy.

I, feeling cocky, claimed that my vagueness had dropped off, and that I was feeling pretty good.

Until yesterday, when it took me three tries to get my undies on.

I’m now off to vote, and hopefully will get a chance to visit Alex before I come back to meet our new cleaners - the old ones sacked us because the house had too much fur!

Try www.freerice.com.

By defining words, you can donate rice to the UN food program. Apparently the difficulty level goes up to 50 - I thought I had a pretty good vocabulary, but I can only seem to get it as high as 44. But I did donate over 1000 grains of rice, while eating icecream, and being unable to sleep while the rest of the house snores away merrily. Yes, even the bunny.

I have heard many pregnant women talk of how the last few weeks of pregnancy are the worst, and that after about 37 weeks, they are well and truly over being pregnant, and ready to meet their new baby.

I understood this, yet never empathised until today. Everything hurts. My fingers are so fat and painful from the carpal tunnel that my knitting holds little joy, I can barely take a step without agony, and last night I was woken up by gastric reflux so violent that it burst into my nose. NOT GOOD.

Today, after two days resting, I felt ready to attempt to take on the stupermarket. I shopped (it was well overdue), and got all the shopping into the car. Doesn’t sound like a major achievement, but when it was over I felt like I had conquered Everest, and deserved a large Gin and a nice lie down. I got neither, but I did find this.

Thanks to Cindy for the link to this, that started the adventure!

Man Dies Trying to Rescue Cockatoo. Well, I am sure the bird didn’t mean to kill anyone, she was just doing her job as an ornery feathery person.

While on the subject of evil cockatoos, I should relate a charming tale of our own evil avian. Last week, while sitting in the living room, I watched her climb down off her house, and walk over to the baby gate we have installed between the kitchen and the living area. I called Mark over to watch as she calmly placed on leg on the gate and pulled it shut - barring us entry to the kitchen.

I guess we’ve been told.

Talk of staying away from hospital was premature. I had been feeling rather ordinary all day yesterday, which I attributed to the stress. But when I still felt vile at 4pm, after napping from 1pm, I suspected there was something going on. I hadn’t eaten all day, so when I started violently throwing up, there wasn’t much to come up.

It only took me a few hours to decide to call the hospital this time, they had me come in for some fluids and medication (Oh, how I love thee, Zofran!), but by the time I had 2 bags of fluids and the meds and was feeling better, they decided to keep me in overnight. I felt a bit like a malingerer, but Inigo’s heartbeat was pretty high when we got to hospital, so for his sake it was probably worth the hassle. And we got to try out our emergency planning, and get to test run the maternity unit at Hornsby. I have to say I can’t fault them - the midwives were wonderful and though they were really busy, they did a great job of making us comfortable and reassured. Poor Mark spent the night on a fold out chair in the birthing suite, I had a relatively comfortable bed, but hardly slept a wink.

They let us out at about 8.30am, I dropped Mark off at work, and now I am off to hopefully catch up on some sleep.

PS. I haven’t been looking forward to Christmas, until I saw this

Thanks Sarah!

Inigo decided to spend this morning heard down, so no ECV, and no hospital stay!

THe head doctor seems to think that he will stay head down from now on, but I don’t want to get my hopes up - he is still pretty mobile (”a very active baby”, in the words of the doctor).

So I am home now, and about to have a nap since I got hardly any sleep last night, and I don’t have to go back to hospital till Friday morning (39 weeks on Friday).

Just because I haven’t put up any pictures in ages, and because my nephew is one of the worlds cutest babies, and also to remind myself that there are some rewards for going through all this….

This picture was taken last month, when Alex was about 8 months old, and the cute meter started going off the scale. Since I took this picture, he has started to recognise me between visits, and on Melbourne Cup Day he actually smiled at me as soon as I arrived.

I think he likes me.

Last friday, Inigo was head down, and the midwives were happy - at least it’s possible for him to be head down, there is no obstruction preventing the position.

Yesterday, the ultrasound confirmed his position, and I almost cancelled the appointment with the Doctors today. Everything was normal, normal, and great. He is big, but not freakishly so, and has good blood supply, good fluid levels, 4 chambers in the heart, and huge testicles (just my observation on that one).

I thought I’d better go to the appointment anyway, and dragged Mark along with me. Thank goodness! We had a bit of a surprise - he has turned since yesterday, and again between the doctor having a look and the “boss” doctor having a look.

On monday I have another appointment for a procedure to turn him. I get injected with a drug to relax the uterus, and then (with the aid of the ultrasound) they poke him and hopefully get him to turn head down again (where he was yesterday). There are some risks associated with the procedure, but it roughly halves the number of caesars that have to be performed - so I figure it’s worth a shot. They will only do it if he is breech - head up, bum down. But if he is transverse, and spine up (like he was for the first doctor today), they will admit me and keep me in until he settles in a safer position, or comes out. And if he doesn’t settle, I’ll be booked in for a caesar at 39 weeks. The reason for keeping me in hospital, is that with his spine curved up, the chance that the umbilical cord will prolapse and cause a problem is quite high, so it’s safer for both of us to be in the hospital in case my waters break, or labour starts.

Which is all a bit scary, but better than the first option - which was to be admitted today, and observed. Better pack my hospital bag then
So, nothing really new, I just have to be a little bit more mentally prepared for medical intervention, and meeting Inigo sooner rather than later. Just in case.

And now I am off to hug a bunny and eat cake.