Can you believe that it's just over 2 months since Rain was born?
Hayley and I were in stitches the other day over the picture of "the Grinch" and just look at hom now.
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
First day out of the fish tank
Today was his big day out - the first day that he got out of the incubator and is breathing normal air without any oxygen! He's coping well.
Big event! This is his first day out of the incubator
Big event! This is his first day out of the incubator
Sunday, August 31, 2008
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Its been three weeks
Just the other day Hayley said "Can you believe its been three weeks? Oh wow! Its only been three weeks".
Rain now weighs 1100g and is happily managing his feeds, with all the associated bodily functions. His eyes have cleared up and the only additional interventions that he is getting is a vitamin supplement and a bit of caffeine to promote his breathing.
The one issue still with us is his ability to breath. he is breathing without assistance, but with oxygen therapy (at about 30%). Being so prem this is to be expected, but the concern with this is that extended oxygen therapy can have an affect the development of his eyesight.
Despite this, our visits have become wonderfully boring. He is sleeping a good 21 hours out of 24. He has a regular pattern of nappy changes and feeds every 4 hours. Sometimes he is restless but most of the time when we visit he is sleeping and only stirs when we fiddle or when he recognises our voices (especially Mom's).
Rain now weighs 1100g and is happily managing his feeds, with all the associated bodily functions. His eyes have cleared up and the only additional interventions that he is getting is a vitamin supplement and a bit of caffeine to promote his breathing.
The one issue still with us is his ability to breath. he is breathing without assistance, but with oxygen therapy (at about 30%). Being so prem this is to be expected, but the concern with this is that extended oxygen therapy can have an affect the development of his eyesight.
Despite this, our visits have become wonderfully boring. He is sleeping a good 21 hours out of 24. He has a regular pattern of nappy changes and feeds every 4 hours. Sometimes he is restless but most of the time when we visit he is sleeping and only stirs when we fiddle or when he recognises our voices (especially Mom's).
Sunday, August 24, 2008
His vulnerability
Another week has passed and Rain is still with us. Not that we dwell on the negative, but we have a constant underlying awareness of the frailty and dependency of his life on medical interventions.
He is doing really well. We have seen a steady decrease in the interventions and a steady increase in his ability to deal with his environment and sustain himself. He now breathes on his own, being supported only by the supplementation of oxygen. All the drips have been removed and he is able to digest 22ml of milk (courtesy his dedicated Mom) every 3 hours. It seems that every time we visit his intake is increased. His poos have been recorded as "yellow seedy", "yellow soft" and now "yellow VERY LARGE".
The only really medication that he is being given is some antibiotic drops for his eyes that have had a bit of an infection and some caffeine that assists his breathing reflex.
Now he just needs to grow. Last weighed he was 5 grams shy of his birth weight of 890.
He is just so little and vulnerable, but he has a voice and clear objections to the interference of the nappy changes, cleaning of nooks and crannies and especially the smell of the surgical spirits.
Clearly he is gives no nod to his own vulnerability.
He is doing really well. We have seen a steady decrease in the interventions and a steady increase in his ability to deal with his environment and sustain himself. He now breathes on his own, being supported only by the supplementation of oxygen. All the drips have been removed and he is able to digest 22ml of milk (courtesy his dedicated Mom) every 3 hours. It seems that every time we visit his intake is increased. His poos have been recorded as "yellow seedy", "yellow soft" and now "yellow VERY LARGE".
The only really medication that he is being given is some antibiotic drops for his eyes that have had a bit of an infection and some caffeine that assists his breathing reflex.
Now he just needs to grow. Last weighed he was 5 grams shy of his birth weight of 890.
He is just so little and vulnerable, but he has a voice and clear objections to the interference of the nappy changes, cleaning of nooks and crannies and especially the smell of the surgical spirits.
Clearly he is gives no nod to his own vulnerability.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
He looks like...
We saw the little face a bit better today, less cluttered by medical apparatus. The respirator feed has been downscaled to a small pipe that supplements the oxygen supply and adds a little pressure.He is largely breathing on his own and while they don't expect that this change will be permanent, it is another step.
More importantly we can see his features more clearly, see who he is. This is an important step for us. We can feel like we know him more and better.
He responds to us. He reacts to our voices and opens his eyes as response. Not really seeing eyes, they are a gesture of recognition. We feel.
As we walked into the ICU we were looking at the pictures of all the prem babies (before and afters) and had the distinct sense that the little piggy nose with tube flared nostrils is indeed permanent, despite the assurance from the nurse that when he is twenty he will not have a piggy nose.
We also decide that he has a distinct touch of the Komen in his features. High cheekbones, but the chin definitely is a legacy of his grandpa Benington.
More importantly we can see his features more clearly, see who he is. This is an important step for us. We can feel like we know him more and better.
He responds to us. He reacts to our voices and opens his eyes as response. Not really seeing eyes, they are a gesture of recognition. We feel.
As we walked into the ICU we were looking at the pictures of all the prem babies (before and afters) and had the distinct sense that the little piggy nose with tube flared nostrils is indeed permanent, despite the assurance from the nurse that when he is twenty he will not have a piggy nose.
We also decide that he has a distinct touch of the Komen in his features. High cheekbones, but the chin definitely is a legacy of his grandpa Benington.
Saturday, August 16, 2008
The simple life
Today we were able to hold the little guy in our arms.
While he is still so more and fragile, the initial fragility has been replaced by something more resilient. He has been asserting himself, his life, his needs. Like yesterday when he was inconsolable - because his nappy was dirty. How could we?
The physical closeness does change things for us as well. It makes the bond more real a greater sense of his belonging to us. (Rather than a child of "the machine").
But I am getting impatient for his homecoming, for a time when we can have him part of our everyday lives and can experience all those parent and baby moments that are part of those first months. Just have to be patient.
But I am forgetting that this is his blog not mine.
He is breathing fine so the tube has not had to go back in. He now gets 7ml of milk every 3 hours and seems to be digesting it fine - he had done 2 poo's and 2 wee's between 7 and 11am today. He was weighed in at 845g today, we had been warned that he was expected to loose in his first week.
That's the stuff that he is actually about right now. Sleep, breathe, eat, wee, poo.
The simple life.
While he is still so more and fragile, the initial fragility has been replaced by something more resilient. He has been asserting himself, his life, his needs. Like yesterday when he was inconsolable - because his nappy was dirty. How could we?
The physical closeness does change things for us as well. It makes the bond more real a greater sense of his belonging to us. (Rather than a child of "the machine").
But I am getting impatient for his homecoming, for a time when we can have him part of our everyday lives and can experience all those parent and baby moments that are part of those first months. Just have to be patient.
But I am forgetting that this is his blog not mine.
He is breathing fine so the tube has not had to go back in. He now gets 7ml of milk every 3 hours and seems to be digesting it fine - he had done 2 poo's and 2 wee's between 7 and 11am today. He was weighed in at 845g today, we had been warned that he was expected to loose in his first week.
That's the stuff that he is actually about right now. Sleep, breathe, eat, wee, poo.
The simple life.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
An unashamed discussion of my first poo
Took him a few days, but with a bit of encouragement he did it (Dad is a bit disappointed he missed cleaning the dark, sticky mess).
He has been opening eyes much more and if you look out for it carefully you'll see the whites of his eyes.
He has been so much more responsive, active and "alive". We are expecting (hoping?) that once the tube comes out we'll hear what he has to offer with his voice. We suspect he has a lot and have noticed that he is not shy to respond to what he doesn't want with crying - we just cant hear it yet.
He has been opening eyes much more and if you look out for it carefully you'll see the whites of his eyes.
He has been so much more responsive, active and "alive". We are expecting (hoping?) that once the tube comes out we'll hear what he has to offer with his voice. We suspect he has a lot and have noticed that he is not shy to respond to what he doesn't want with crying - we just cant hear it yet.
I'm really moving now
Since last night they have cut back on the sedation, increased his milk intake to 5 then 6ml (every 3 hours). His breathing is getting stronger and stronger and they are hoping to take out the respiration tube tomorrow. He will still be on the respirator to assist with breathing but he will have to do much of the work himself and he seems up to it because he is already contributing to his breathing significantly.
Tuesday, August 12, 2008
Sunglasses come off
Because of his bruising from the birth we were warned that he would be jaundiced and that this would be dealt with by exposure to UV light. So the sunglasses and light was on from day 2.
We have been told that his optic nerves only will develop from about 32 weeks so he cant and doesnt want to see at the moment anyway (as much as we want to gaze lovingly into his eyes).
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Rain's big day
It all took about 20 minutes. Dr Botner didn't wait for the lift and after a brief examination Hayley was taken directly to the delivery room. No question about having a Caesar, this baby was on its way.
Hayley was in much pain at this point (obviously), but was asked to hold back on the pushing because we were waiting for the paediatrician to arrive. She was on her way. Hold back she did. I was in a bit of a dwaal at this point, but a very not-neutral observer and all I could do at this stag was to observe.
As soon a Dr Lucic arrived, Dr Botner let Hayley know that she could do what she wanted to. The next contraction came and she was given the instruction to push, and push. And with that he was here. After the first couple of pushes he was mostly out (but not his head) and with the next big one it was all over. Suddenly Hayley's pain was gone and she announced that she had just given birth to a monkey and after a couple of small cries she changed her mind to a kitten.
I guess that my brain was flooded, because at this point I was given the instruction to take pictures. The doctor and nurses were brilliant. They were calm but full of useful action. He had come out quite a dark colour, but by now he was already pink.
Obviously lots of medical intervention. Mainly about oxygen supply. He had made it. He was with us. Little (950g, 35cm) and fragile, but fine.
Hayley was in much pain at this point (obviously), but was asked to hold back on the pushing because we were waiting for the paediatrician to arrive. She was on her way. Hold back she did. I was in a bit of a dwaal at this point, but a very not-neutral observer and all I could do at this stag was to observe.
As soon a Dr Lucic arrived, Dr Botner let Hayley know that she could do what she wanted to. The next contraction came and she was given the instruction to push, and push. And with that he was here. After the first couple of pushes he was mostly out (but not his head) and with the next big one it was all over. Suddenly Hayley's pain was gone and she announced that she had just given birth to a monkey and after a couple of small cries she changed her mind to a kitten.
I guess that my brain was flooded, because at this point I was given the instruction to take pictures. The doctor and nurses were brilliant. They were calm but full of useful action. He had come out quite a dark colour, but by now he was already pink.
Obviously lots of medical intervention. Mainly about oxygen supply. He had made it. He was with us. Little (950g, 35cm) and fragile, but fine.
Rain comes
I set of that morning with confidence. Hayley was settled, she had been up once at night and a couple of twinges, nothing we hadn't had before. I needed an early start, there was much to be done that day.
At 8am my phone went off. Hayley. I don't think she said much before I replied "oh no". I could hear that it was not well when I called back in a while and asked her to contact Dr Botner while I drove. 35 minutes there and 35 back. Traffic was kind. I manage to get past a massive abnormal load just other side of Kliprivier hoping it would be past Walkerville on the return. Golfview boom. Shit, left my keys and remote at the office. Dealt with that.
Hayley was not happy. Lots of pain. Not the same as last time.
I remember counting as each contraction arrived trying to figure if they were getting closer, but realising that it didn't really matter. I recall getting to ten. We made the hospital and because of my previous practise run I managed to keep the panic polite.
But it was not like before. The pethidine seemed to make no difference to Hayley, despite what the monitor was saying. Even on the insistence of the nurse that it was working and the contractions had subsided. I could see the intensity of the pain as Hayley's eyes rolled back and all normal sensory input was drowned.
To that point I was sure that stasis would return when the doctor arrived and the drips were put in. We had been though this before. I was watching the time on the monitor's printed log. It had started at 9:46 and it was now 10:45. At the time I was unaware that the doctor had come and gone. She had checked Hayley and decided that all was OK - her cervix was closed. But I was anxious, where was the doctor? Hayley was not doing well and surely this level of pain was unnecessary. I sent my mental time limit to 11:00, if she was not there by then, I would allow my polite control to slip.
Then she said "I feel like I want to push". At that moment things changed. I turned and went directly to the nurse's station.
At 8am my phone went off. Hayley. I don't think she said much before I replied "oh no". I could hear that it was not well when I called back in a while and asked her to contact Dr Botner while I drove. 35 minutes there and 35 back. Traffic was kind. I manage to get past a massive abnormal load just other side of Kliprivier hoping it would be past Walkerville on the return. Golfview boom. Shit, left my keys and remote at the office. Dealt with that.
Hayley was not happy. Lots of pain. Not the same as last time.
I remember counting as each contraction arrived trying to figure if they were getting closer, but realising that it didn't really matter. I recall getting to ten. We made the hospital and because of my previous practise run I managed to keep the panic polite.
But it was not like before. The pethidine seemed to make no difference to Hayley, despite what the monitor was saying. Even on the insistence of the nurse that it was working and the contractions had subsided. I could see the intensity of the pain as Hayley's eyes rolled back and all normal sensory input was drowned.
To that point I was sure that stasis would return when the doctor arrived and the drips were put in. We had been though this before. I was watching the time on the monitor's printed log. It had started at 9:46 and it was now 10:45. At the time I was unaware that the doctor had come and gone. She had checked Hayley and decided that all was OK - her cervix was closed. But I was anxious, where was the doctor? Hayley was not doing well and surely this level of pain was unnecessary. I sent my mental time limit to 11:00, if she was not there by then, I would allow my polite control to slip.
Then she said "I feel like I want to push". At that moment things changed. I turned and went directly to the nurse's station.
Wednesday, August 6, 2008
A false start
Gariep was the beginning but there was one more event to come. We had spent the following weekend recuperating and recovering from the scare that we had Wednesday night, but also the journey.
Gariep is lovely and lonely. One of those artificial creations of the apartheid era that will endure as a strangely positive legacy, like the voortrekker monument. I even noticed some legacy roadsigns pointing to the "Verwoed Dam". It is a silent monument just a few k's from the national road hidden behind the hills and possibly separated from the flow of the society by a couple of decades.
We slept and we rested, doing very little that Sunday. Ready for the upcoming week back in the metropolis and the stress of its demands and pace. At midnight, Gariep returned like a ghoul. Hayley rode it out again, with little sleep, believing that like before it would subside. But by morning it had not and the cramps were coming and going with the regularity of "labour". So we drove through in the morning melee to the hospital.
Dr Botner (Hayley's obstetrician) confirmed the reality of the labour while the hospital bureaucrat officially granted admission on pronouncement of "false labour". Nothing false about it, but it could be stopped. The wonder of medicine, we marvelled. The wonder of pethidine had taken Hayley's pain when I got back to her leaving her a bit ashen, but happy.
The next two days Hayley returned to normal, the drip and the monitor had shown the pregnancy could continue. As we had determined, we were taking it a day at a time and we had been given a few more days to take.
Gariep is lovely and lonely. One of those artificial creations of the apartheid era that will endure as a strangely positive legacy, like the voortrekker monument. I even noticed some legacy roadsigns pointing to the "Verwoed Dam". It is a silent monument just a few k's from the national road hidden behind the hills and possibly separated from the flow of the society by a couple of decades.
We slept and we rested, doing very little that Sunday. Ready for the upcoming week back in the metropolis and the stress of its demands and pace. At midnight, Gariep returned like a ghoul. Hayley rode it out again, with little sleep, believing that like before it would subside. But by morning it had not and the cramps were coming and going with the regularity of "labour". So we drove through in the morning melee to the hospital.
Dr Botner (Hayley's obstetrician) confirmed the reality of the labour while the hospital bureaucrat officially granted admission on pronouncement of "false labour". Nothing false about it, but it could be stopped. The wonder of medicine, we marvelled. The wonder of pethidine had taken Hayley's pain when I got back to her leaving her a bit ashen, but happy.
The next two days Hayley returned to normal, the drip and the monitor had shown the pregnancy could continue. As we had determined, we were taking it a day at a time and we had been given a few more days to take.
Hayley was discharged on Wednesday the 6th, and I took her home with a doctors note for leave till the end of the following week. She was going to take things easy, stay in bed, get bored and let the little guy grow some more.
Life had returned to normal, as had our denial.
Life had returned to normal, as had our denial.
Monday, August 4, 2008
The beginning
It really all started some time ago, Valentine's day - but that is another story for another day. We'll start with our eventful trip to Gariep.
Hayley had been having a time of it until then, cramps and a bit of bleeding. We had gone to the hospital twice to make sure and was reassured that everything was fine and that the baby was doing well. Each time his heartbeat was well the range is should be. The symptoms, we were told were unusual, but "it happens to some women sometime". There appeared no real underlying cause.
He just wanted out. As we now know.
Anyway, Hayley needed to do this trip. Gariep was the start of her "Green Label" and was the culmination of a few months of arranging and communicating with an array of interested and interesting people. This was her conference. It was happening because of her and she could not miss it. On top of that Tim, the key "expert" from the EWT had to pull out at the last minute. For her to bail would also meant the likely termination of the conference.
So I decided to go along. It would be a break, but it meant that I could take some pressure off and if things did go bad I could ... ?
Exactly. They did. The second night the "cramps" got bad and the bleeding was heavier.
Gariep is 34 km from Colesberg, the nearest town with a hospital and barely a website. I noted that it had been opened by Manto (our infamous Minister of Health) just 4 years earlier. It was a worst case scenario. Bloemfontein is 180 km, and was our best bet.
Decision time. It was about 9 pm. We were tired and getting stressed so we decided to get ready to go, but tough it out to see if the pills were able to kick in and suppress the cramps. Hayley lay down and tried to rest.
We made it. The cramps subsided and we both got a night of fitful but successful sleep. Hayley woke up able to cope and managed to bring the conference to a the conclusion she was hoping for.
We headed home having had a moment, but hoping that it was just a blip on the radar, inexplicable but insignificant. That was the hope, or the nature of the denial, at least.
Hayley had been having a time of it until then, cramps and a bit of bleeding. We had gone to the hospital twice to make sure and was reassured that everything was fine and that the baby was doing well. Each time his heartbeat was well the range is should be. The symptoms, we were told were unusual, but "it happens to some women sometime". There appeared no real underlying cause.
He just wanted out. As we now know.
Anyway, Hayley needed to do this trip. Gariep was the start of her "Green Label" and was the culmination of a few months of arranging and communicating with an array of interested and interesting people. This was her conference. It was happening because of her and she could not miss it. On top of that Tim, the key "expert" from the EWT had to pull out at the last minute. For her to bail would also meant the likely termination of the conference.
So I decided to go along. It would be a break, but it meant that I could take some pressure off and if things did go bad I could ... ?
Exactly. They did. The second night the "cramps" got bad and the bleeding was heavier.
Gariep is 34 km from Colesberg, the nearest town with a hospital and barely a website. I noted that it had been opened by Manto (our infamous Minister of Health) just 4 years earlier. It was a worst case scenario. Bloemfontein is 180 km, and was our best bet.
Decision time. It was about 9 pm. We were tired and getting stressed so we decided to get ready to go, but tough it out to see if the pills were able to kick in and suppress the cramps. Hayley lay down and tried to rest.
We made it. The cramps subsided and we both got a night of fitful but successful sleep. Hayley woke up able to cope and managed to bring the conference to a the conclusion she was hoping for.
We headed home having had a moment, but hoping that it was just a blip on the radar, inexplicable but insignificant. That was the hope, or the nature of the denial, at least.
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