Thursday 23 June 2011

17 years ago....

I became a mother on this day for the first time.  She was early for the only time in her life but at the same time late.  When she finally started to arrive with some urgency I had already been in labour for four days. They had shot me full of steroids to help with her lung development and said this time they were going to let me proceed in labour.  We had a couple of early kick offs which they had shut down but this time the doppler cord reading indicated it was time to run the marathon of labour.  She was flickle whirlwind of a thing even then with her stormy emotions. I by this stage was so ready for this having a baby thing to be over cause I was sick of being terrified about what might happen after being prepared for the worst case scenarios.  At this point we were almost 7 weeks before my expected due date.  My pregnancy has not been this rosey thing but rather one where I got to learn too much technical terminology.

 little lot of prayer.
Today 17 years ago I got sped up faster than the midwife and obngyn was expecting as 30 minutes after the drip line inserted I end up getting wheeled into an emergency c-section while the hubby had nipped out for a quick bite to eat (his first meal in over 24 hours).  I was not allowed to eat incase it ended up in a c-section good plan but it had been at least 24 hours since I had a bite of toast and I was ready to eat anything if it moved.  I had transitioned to pushing in less than 15 minutes and the midwife hit the panic button as she was crowning. Obgyn and others responded and the race was on. Wheeled into theatre with a nurse on the gurney pushing her back from where I wanted to get her out of.   Yes I was doing that head swivelling thing were you want to rip someone's head of their shoulders when they are shouting at you NOT to Push.  Hells bells lady do you think I have any control in this you must be completely BATSHIT CRAZY.

Come on spit it out? What do you want?
I was had two new lines put in each arm as I am transferred from the gurney to the operating table along with a midwife still between my legs pushing back a stubborn head. While I am looking down at the aneathesologist putting the second line in my arm and answering his questions,  I am also asked do I want the baby baptised, what names have I picked out and say hello to the emergency on call peditrician. More names and faces flash into my vision in this cacophony of sound as I am trying so hard not to push. I listen to my obngyn explain in clipped frantic phrases what they are going to do through the intercom as he is scrubbing up.  My friend a theatre nurse says she is here and I recognise her eyes from behind the mask.  I ask again have they told J what is going on.  Apparently someone in maternity is searching for him in the hospital canteen which is directly below the theatre I am in.  I had clocked the stairs and sign as they wheeled me from the labour suite to the theatre at high speed. In between all these questions and everything else including the urge to push down NOW I look at the clock and the ticking hands are almost at 6pm.  Obgyn enters the theatre and the total rushing sounds of carts, trays and frantic preparation noises stops.   A quick order for his quiet music, a last eye smile (wink) for me as the peaditrician confirms he is ready and prepared. Start time is announced as 6pm. The gas mask is lowered and I get told to count back from ten and look up at the anaesthesiologist. The nurse is removed from between my legs.  I lose my voice at about 6 going to 5. I am counting and I listening to the sound of music and the commentary and commands of the obgyn.  The anaethesiologist flashes a light in my eyes and announces I am out (sorry mate I am not) but I am not able to move, he tapes my eyes down. Don't put that tape on my eyes I want to say as I am allergic to it. My Eyes are itching as Obyn announces starting to cut (did not feel it) and it is 6:02. I feel some tugging on the belly but that was all. Baby delivered at 6:04 is announced.  No cry nothing. I hear the frantic activity to the side of me at the paediatric set up. The murmur of voices and equipment but still no baby cry.  I am struggling to move my mouth and after what seemed an age I ask if the baby is all right...    A sharp urgent command is issued to put me out, Put her out Now....  @£$@£@ Put her out now.  First time I have heard the Obgyn swear ever. More Muttering from the anaethesiolgist - yes he was swearing too. I feel more of the cold burning sensation in my arm again and at last my ears hear a cry of protest.  More flashing in my eyes as they try to confirm that I am out.  I am not but I feel like I am falling.  My friend whispers into my ear it is a little girl, she is ok, they have baptised her, Ry, and they are taking her out to the baby ICU where J is waiting for her.  

Do really think I am going to pay any
attention to you mother?
At that point I crash out into the blackness that was pulling me down. Later on I am waking up in recovery with a lot a pain, a new drip line location, itchy eyes, a horse voice asking for confirmation about baby girl and an urgent need for a bowl to throw up in along with a body which I can not move properly.  Do you know how hard it is to throw up when you are partially paralysed it is not fun at all especially with stitches in your lower abdomen. How could l keep throwing up I had nothing left to throw up I had not eaten in days. I drift in and out of consciousness, throw up yet again and again as I move from recovery to a room near the Baby ICU.  I can hear  a baby screaming.  It was Ry who was already expressing her displeasure and letting the world know she did not suffer fools well.  After throwing up yet again I am suddenly propped up as they clean me up and change my vomit covered sheets where I have missed the bowl (again). The screaming torrent of noise is getting closer.  The door opens and a wheel crib with a battle axe of a nurse who I seen too much of in the last weeks brings Ry into me.  Closely followed by J.  The room is echoing with sound of Ry's displeasure of being prodded and poked.  I am still half out of it and I am rearranged to hold a baby who was screaming for a feed. I have almost no control of my arms as they attach her to my breast and all of a sudden I am crying my heart out with relief..... She is just so perfect. As I look down at her I wondered when they are going to take her away from me as they realise I am not supposed to be her mother as she is just too beautiful and totally needs someone who is infinitely more qualified than inadequate little old me.

With her little brother at about 5.
Today I do a double take as she towers above me and wonder about how fast the years have gone by.  She still is a storm of emotion who does not suffer fools well.  She has had J wrapped round her fingers from the first moment he saw her and I think I was not that far behind him.

2 comments:

  1. Oh, tears.

    Happy Birthday, Ry. I think you're a wonderful individual and a testament to your parents esp. your mother.

    Lucky no one's here to see me crying!

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  2. Yeap I have been weepy today. It has been scary to realise she will be in uni in 18 months and therefore left home. She is really growing up and I have a young lady who lives with me not the little bundle I brought home. In her first year she spent more time in PICU in the first 12 months than she did at home.

    Some days I think her teenage antics are too much and then I remember her first year. Nothing can be as bad as that. She is here, healthy and semi active (PE is so not her thing). She is bright and witty. She can be incredibly sharp with an aerobic tongue which can strip paint off the wall and then turns around to be lovingly gentle and extremely caring. I love her to bits even though there I times I could throttle her. Thats Motherhood.

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