Games

Aimee is getting bigger by the day. You can't imagine such a little one can have such a personality. Just now, I dropped some Infacol into her mouth (anti-colic medicine), she tasted it and then jammed her mouth closed so I could not administer the second drop. Then she just stares at you with intense suspicion. You should see her actually yell 'No!' whenever Cat introduces her nipple. She shakes her head from side to side and screams Noooooo. I thought babies could not talk? But when she feeds, she clasps her little hands together just as if she is praying - so cute you have to see it.
Right now, our new game is wake daddy up at 4am and scream blue murder until he cuddles her on his chest. then, paranoid that he will fall asleep and drop her, poor daddy has to lie there motionless until the next feed (3 hours).



But for a 13 day-old baby, she seems to take a keen interest in visual and aural stimuli. Cat brought out a musical playmat which makes sounds when touched. Aimee, visibly appeared to enjoy the mat and, whilst too young to smile, did kick her legs and arms around with gleeful abandon - either that or her nappy was filling up.

Express Service

I'm glad Cat can laugh in the face of adversity. These past couple of weeks have seen some quite trying times and Cat has always pulled through. She's a strong person, characteristics that seemingly have been transfered to our little one.
Today, Cat yelled for me to come over as she was showering. Oh no, I thought, an accident? No, Cat called to show me how her nipples were lactating in response to the noise of the shower. The milk from her breasts were gushing outwards in unison with the shower!
Then later, as she was feeding Aimee with the bottle, Cat was leaking so much milk she was drenched and we had to change the entire bed sheets. Mother nature is a wonderful thing - but she sure is messy!



Poor Aimee has developed acne. Yes, acne just like a teenager. Apparently it is very common in young babies but it looks awful. It covers her nose half way across her cheekbones and sopme on her forehead. There is no solution other than to cleanse with sterile water everyday and hope it goes away. We reckon it started the moment she went on to all-breast milk diet. Cat's hormones must be having an effect. But we hope it won't last and the benefits of breast diet must outweigh these drawbacks.



I eventually got round to unboxing my new camcorder and have been shooting pics of Aimee's many contorted facial features as she is held by various people. The most amusing incident was when I jokingly narrated that she looked like she was about to explode a bowel movement, and right on cue, she produced a massive stinker of atomic proportions. I refrained from filming the nappy change. Some things should never be seen.

NappiesR us

There is a rite of passage that every man dreads but most must go through at some stage - the nappy change. I am not a big fan of the poo. The wee is ok, though time it wrong and you end up with a lot of wet clothes. No, the poo is at one fascinating (all those colours I never thought possible) and horrid - she can fill her pants literally in the space of one minute. A breast milk diet is known to lead to copious and explosive bowel movements. Speed is of the essence with these big mummas.
But I thought I would be more squeamish and reluctant than I have been. Maybe it is one bonus to be had from sleep deprivation - you simply have no energy to think about things, you just do it.
The midwife weighed Aimee and she is now 7lb9oz. She has gained a full pound in 9 days. Phenomenal growth spurt - and looks like no signs of slowing down as she is gulping down the milk at an astounding rate - 3.5fluid oz every three hours on the dot.
The past two days have been good. As long as we maintain the milk flow and get it to her within two minutes of her crying, she is mostly a happy and contented baby. But the old wind factor is a bugger. Too much gulping or crying leads to wind, which manifests as a three hour screaming session - usually at 2am.

But she seems to be growing daily and that gives us pleasure. Cat and I convince ourselves she is starting to recognise who is who. If I speak in corner of the room while Cat is holding her, Aimee will turn her head in my direction. I cannot wait for her to smile and laugh. This stage is around five to six weeks away.
I'm off to buy a camcorder now. Sadly, my present one let me down and is busted. SoI will have to preserve moving memories of Aimee's first week in my brain.

One week old

Aimee celebrated her one-week old birthday with a two hour sleep and three hour screaming session - all this at 1am. Well you can't say we weren't warned (about the sleepless nights and unsolvable screaming).

There are so may deep issues that I have come across when concerned with baby care. Issues which divide people and cause arguments amongst professionals and parents alike. One is the breast feeding issue. There is no doubt that breast milk is indeed best. But what if your child refuses to take to the breast. Bottles are convenient and save on sore cracked nipples and 1-hour to 2-hour feeding cycles.
Cat was too ill to breast feed for the first two days of Aimee's life. Ther staff at hospital fed her bottled formula milk. Our attempts at weening her onto the real thing have proved a frustrating, tearful and unproductive experience. Sure, we could continue various tactics, but it is incredibly stressful for all. Already we tried cold turkey - denying her food untiul she caved in (you know who won that one), we tried deception (silicone teats which attach to the breast) - yeah like she was fooled, not; we also tried cup feeding to stop her relying on the bottle - a horrid messy practice that causes untold amounts of wind and pain for the baby.
Now we are resigned to a cycle of bottle feeding her Cat's expressed milk. So, our clockwork regime goes like this:
1. sterilise equipment
2.express milk
3. Store milk
4. Warm milk (when baby needs feeding)
5. Feed milk
6. Wash and sterilise bottles
7. back to step one.

This regime is no respector of day or night. It takes an extra pair ofhands from Cat's mum to ensure that we both actually get something to eat and something clean to wear.

Another major issue for debate seems to be the dummy - or soothers. Whether to soothe or not.
Many experts seem to suggest never give your child a soother, she will grow up with a deformed mouth, hideous teeth or some other fact to scare the living daylights out of new parents.
Other's say nonsense and a soother is good way of calming a baby earnestly seeking something to suck on for comfort, instead of food. A babyin the womb naturally sucks on her hand for comfort so when she does not get this in the real world, you get screaming and upset.
We'll try the soother over short periods to see if it helps. But all the time, you are aware of the fact that you might be doing something wrong.

Doula suggests we try the dummy, or even my little finger, as a soother. She also suggested waking her to feed every three hours to ensure she doesn't get so hungry during the night. It would also perhaps time shift her fretful period to a more parent friendly late evening, instead of mid early morning.

Nothing tests your reserves of patience or tolerance more than a baby wailing at top volume,only for her to notch it up a gear yet again.

I have more things to get off my chest, but right now, guess what? It's off to sterilise some bottles and pump some milk like a hand maiden. Poor Cat, she was born the sign of the buffulo you know. She says she certainly feels like one.

A windy day

Yesterday (Thursday - six days after her birth) was a good day. Aimee slept through three and five solid hour shifts and we had time to catch up on mail, pressies, food, a little sleep, some TV and even have a giggle at our hapless antics. My Mum anbd Dad came round to see a sleeping peaceful little baby girl.
But come 2am this morning, all hell broke loose. Aimee could not stop crying, even after a good feed, nappy change and lots of soothing and rocking. She cried - screeched more like - for about an hour. Eventually she got to a more restful phase with my patent sounds of the womb noises - ie me uttering white noiuse from my mouth. She fell asleep on my chest and I placed her in the crib. 5am, she woke again. Feed, nappy change and soothing this time went no where. She was even louder if that could be possible. MIL took charge and gently got her to sleep, but even this took her remarkable skills a good hour to achieve. The result, all of us in a serisouly poor mood this morning, when Aimee decided it was breakfast time at 9am. Meaning we all got a total of maybe 3 hours poor quality sleep last night.
I thought Aimee might be suffering colic. Certainly by the way she spasms up her little body with the wailing, you can tell she is in pain. But all our attempts at winding induce further wriggling and wailing. I spoke to doula about this and she said that it was not likely to be colic, not for such a young baby, but it was wind and that we were doing the right thing by trying to wind her, but perhaps were wrong in keep changing the winding position or passing her from person to person. Thisonlyprolongs to agony. She told us to stick to one position, hold tightly, maybe sway, and don;t change until she calms and falls into the first phase of sleep. When she twitchesor protests slightly, that is the time to change position. Babies usually protest three times when in one position, before calming down. We have to listen to the changein breathing before knowing she has entering deeper sleep. That is the time to put her down in the crib.
Well, all this info is a lot of new information for my sleep deprived brain to take in. So I'll sign off fow now while I have thechance.

Sleep, pleeeeeeeease!!!

Oh my god. 6 days later and I am totally shattered. This is a war zone. Even with Mother in Law to help, we are being ground down by the relentless pace of baby things. EVERYTHING is concerned with the welfare of the baby. You end up with NO TIME to do anything else. No time to eat properly, definitely no sleep, no tidying, even going to the loo is a exercise in correct timing. Get anything wrong and you end up with 2 hours of ear-piercing wailing that no amount of rocking and soothing can heal. It is FOOD NOW or you get my screaming for eternity.
Plus, I am dealing with trying to get Cat strong again. The labour and subsequent surgeryt and loss of blood have wekaneed her considerably. Physically she is porrly and emotionally, she feels she missed out as there was not time forher to bond straight after the birth. It has been soooooo tough.
Then there is the blasted issue of breast feeding. At hospital, since Cat was recovering and not able to bond or breast feed properly for three days. The midwives said it wsa ok to feed Aimee (sorry, forgot to say, that is now her name) on bottled baby milk. Of course now, she refuses anyting except a certain teat from the bottle. We did cold turkey on Tuesday. Man, that was awful. 16 hours of wailing screaming, wriggling, protesting, this kid is TOUGH! In the end we capitulated and gave her the bottle. After that - no problem. But we were gutted and emotionally wrecked by the experience.
But there is a light at the end. Cat's breast milk has come in and is copious enough to fill a bottle for one feed at a time. We could try breast later on but I think it is a gonna. But at least she is drinking mother nature's finest for some of her feeds. We also have a doula who has offered great advice. MIL still insists on helping with everything. My family help too and mny close friends have offered words of comfort and solidarity from the other dads I know.
I am so touched by the wonderful help and support from our friends and relatives.
To even get the chance to post piccies and write this blog has been a minor miracle so far. I hope and pray that things get easier and we don't make any mistakes.
We have many many more obstacles and trials to come. I am not ashamed to say that at several points this week, I havebroken down sobbing uncontrollably at the difficulty of it all. To see Cat in such poorly state, to run around like a madman warming, sterilising, mixing, nappy changing, venturing to shops to purchase more baby things, it is relentless.
I will report soon at my nextbreak on how things are going.
Off to Mothercare now...more damned nappies!!!

A Baby is born!

Wow! It’s finally happened and what an amazing, drama-filled night we just had. The result, a beautiful and healthy little baby girl.



Here is the detailed account (warning, quite gory in places)

The beginning
At 3am Friday morning Cat showed signs of blood. Fresh blood not old blood. This is usually not a good sign so we went to hospital to get it checked out. No worries there. The heartbeat monitor revealed baby was happy and an internal examination showed Cat was actually 1cm dilated and beginning the first stage of labour. Great news and we now knew the crazy rollercoaster ride was about to begin.

For some reason, the doc wanted to make sure Cat’s labour would progress faster than it already was. Perhaps because she was a week over. The doc rather forcefully initiated a ‘sweep’ (manual prodding of the cervix which makes the body release hormones which begin contractions). The procedure itself was very painful and Cat was not pleased, but what it did do, seemingly within minutes, was start her contractions off – and most painful they were too.

We got home about 6am. Of course, any hope of sleep or rest was quickly dashed. These contractions, although erratic, were filling our thoughts. We were told to wait for them to even out to about one every four minutes, and each one lasting about 45 seconds or more.

My Mum was called and she turned up around 9.30am, a backpack full of acupuncture needles. Soon, Cat resembled a poor hedgehog as Mum tried to administer pain relief, Chinese style. The pain was stronger and stronger and by 2pm, the contractions got down to one every three minutes. A panicky call to the hospital and they tried their best to dissuade us from coming in. We had to make sure that the 3 minute contractions continued over the next two hours. Darn! Poor Cat could not stand the pain. But we duly waited. A hot bath did not really help, apart from act as a diversion and give us something to do.

Two hours later, we called and again, they tried their best to make us wait longer but this time I insisted she be taken in. The pain was unbearable. In our minds, we imagined the baby coming very soon. After all, contractions every 3 minutes is surely near the end? Little did we know the drama about to unfold.

The Hospital
We got admitted at 6pm and seen to by a midwife. Bad news. Cat was still only 1cm dilated. Our hearts sank. After 12 hours of contractions and pain, no progress had been made. The reason – her cervix was posterior, which I guess meant it was facing the wrong way. Surely they would not turn us away again? But the midwife could see Cat was in pain and promised she would be kept on ward. Each contraction brought more pain, and with the added suggestion that this whole process could take many many hours if not days, poor Cat was almost defeated before she began.

Suddenly, blood seemed to be oozing out. Each contraction brought an even stronger wave of pain and more blood soaking the pad to saturation. Surely this was not normal. The midwife came in to check. She looked concerned and worried. The doctor on hand was called in, no one knew why Cat was bleeding like this. The stirrups were up and the doc had to break the waters to examine where the bleeding was coming from. Another internal examination (these things are not pleasant at all) and the doc gave Cat the all clear. The blood was due to her cervix suddenly going from 1cm dilation to 5-6cm in the space of an hour or so. Way quicker than normal. And the pressure build up caused the bleeding.

After this little dramatic episode, Cat went back to contracting as normal. The gas and air mouthpiece was taking a battering, but seemed to be doing the trick, despite her obvious pain. Then after about an hour and half, the midwife examined her again. A big smile stretched across her face: yep, she could start pushing.

Blimey, already! Cat in her delirium seemed pleased to be progressing but there was a catch – no laughing gas whilst in the pushing phase. She was upset, but gritted her teeth and pushed with all her might on each contraction. The poor girl’s face blew to Mount Etna proportions of effort and fire. My Mum and my hands were left withered by Cat’s tremendous grip each time. Down, down, push, down, harder, harder. Screeeeeeeeeeeam!

But no, baby head not coming out. Midwife was worried that the contractions were too short for Cat to make the most of her push. So a drip was suggested. This drip is a drug that makes the contractions stronger and longer. Cat, despite being delirious, immediately knew this also meant, more pain, WAY more pain. The threat of the drip seemed to do the trick. On her next push, baby was out!

The aftermath.
It all happened so quickly. Our baby flew out into the midwife’s arms and onto Cat’s belly. A hearty lungful of screaming from the baby and wide stunned eyes meant all was well and healthy. Cat, my Mum and I were overjoyed. All this within 5 hours of first being admitted was very quick indeed. I thought that it was lucky we did not wait any longer at home before coming to hospital. Lucky indeed because what happened next was quite horrible. After the placenta came out, the midwife noticed some excess bleeding and took a look. Maybe a tear in the perineum she thought. And indeed she was right. Not pretty, but standard fare. But I saw her face change and she was panicking. This was way too much blood and it was spurting out – a sign of a ruptured blood vessel. Emergency buttons were pressed, suddenly the room was filled with medical staff and once again, Cat’s legs were unceremoniously thrust up on stirrups and spotlights put on. The doc looked closely, too much blood to see clearly but she counted two major tears of the insides. The one seeping blood needed to be sewn up and fast. Big needles of local anaesthetic and a rather crude suturing ensured Cat was stitched, but the doc warned that she had to rush off to see to an emergency C-section. It was chaos outside. But Cat’s second tear, although much larger, needed an epidural and theatre operation to ensure it was fixed but there was no time now to do it.

What!??? No time? We were left there, helpless like the crying newborn in Cat’s arms. The midwife didn’t know what was happening either. I could not get answers.
Cat seemed stable, but in a lot of pain. My curiosity ensured I got a very good view of the problem and it was not a pretty sight. In fact, it was pretty close to a horror movie special effects workshop. I was suitably horrified.

The anaesthetist came in and talked to Cat about the epi. Cat had always wanted to avoid this procedure but now, after all her hard efforts, it was going to be given anyway. We all prepared for the surgery she was about to have. I was beside myself with worry, and only the little bundle of joy, now in my arms as Cat was too gone, saved me from panicking.

But something strange happened. The room went very quiet. The staff were off elsewhere tending to another emergency. The baby was content and just studying her funny father’s face. Cat was half knocked out but fairly ok. My Mum was just holding Cat. All this time, I was too busy being concerned about all the flapping and commotion to take a break and realise that now, today, I was a father! The room was calm and peaceful.

The doors opened, uh-oh, here we go I thought. Poor Cat was going to be sliced and diced and there was nothing I could do about it. But it was not the surgeon, or the anaesthetist. It was a middle aged woman who swaggered in, cheerful as the morning sun. ‘Hello, I’m a passing consultant obstetrician’ she boldly announced herself. ‘Let ME take a look at you.’

She ummed and arghed. ‘I can sew this up in about ten minutes if you like, no need for an epidural and theatre for this’
Wow, finally, something goes right. The consultant went to work and did her job in speedy and ultra proficient time. A small crowd of staff looked on, amazed at her skills. Clearly this was someone who really knew what they were doing. As she tugged and pulled at bits of flesh and stitching, she looked rather like a concert pianist. Especially as she was a bit posh. I looked on too. My science photo library training meant that I simply had to take a look, and she was happy to show me all the gory, but strangely beautiful inner details or my poor wife. Basically, she explained, the baby came out in such a way that her arm had punched a hole through the insides of Cat’s uterus. I was shown the hole. Yes, there was big tearing, but this doc cleaned it up and although she said it would not ever look the same, she felt she did a pretty good job. And of course, saved Cat from a trip to the theatre to be stitched up by less experienced (and probably overly tired) hands.

So there we were. Exhausted but elated. Our baby was calm and quiet. She alternated between sleeping and wakefulness. But not being too distressed by all the commotion. She has very oriental eyes and light, slight curly brown hair – now which of her parent’s could they possibly be traits of? She weighed either 3kg2 or 7lb2oz depending on which you believe the faulty NHS scale to be telling the truth. Birth time was 11.35pm Friday, 18th November 2005.

Her name is yet to be decided.

At 5am Saturday morning, my Mum and I finally left to go home and get some shuteye. Cat was wheeled to the ward to stay over for several nights. She is happy and well. I am so happy, I cannot think straight suffice to say, it was a big help writing this blog over the past nine months. I hope to carry on revealing the growing pains of baby Yangster.

I would also like to thank the staff at our hospital who gave us much care and attention and ensured Cat was given the best care possible. Despite being manically busy, they dealt with the situations very well.

Well, the due date has been and gone without incident. To be expected I suppose. But the weight of anticipation is a real burden I am not enjoying. Added to that are the almost constant, though well meaning, enquiries from friends, colleagues, relatives about whether or not you've given birth yet. I feel terrible, as if I am letting people downby constantly saying 'No, not yet'.

Cat has been rather fed up and hormonal at home. Today she admited to feeling very angry, for no reason. I told her to don some boxing gloves and smash something. She chose to eat copious chocolate instead. It seemed to do the trick and the happy soul was back when I returned home...phew. The little monkey inside her is clearly finding it very cramped these days, and kicks in protest - usually at night so she can wake Cat up. A taste of things to come.

A heart beat away

Exactly one week to go now until D-date. There is a nice calm in our lives at the moment- calm before the storm perhaps?

The pram shenanigans came to a head on Saturday. After calling and calling the past week (their phone doesn't accept incoming calls) we decided to pay the shop a visit. It was shuttered - a bad sign. Some investigating with the next doors shop and it seems they are still open, but very erratically and clearly not today. I suspect they are going bust. Damn them, they've taken my £50 deposit - they're stealing from my kid!!
So anyway, we traipsied off yet again to Mothercare and bought the Inglesina - which was the original one we were gonna get in the first place - only it is now £50 cheaper! So I guess I haven't lost any money really.
It's great, one pull of a handle and click, it opens up into a full on buggy. One pull of a handle and shazam, it collapses back into a mini-golf bag which stands-up vertically. The only problem is that the car seat doesn't fit our back seats, only the front passenger seat.

Last night when I placed my ear close to Cat's belly, I swear I could hear the baby's heart beat. It's very fast. I thought I could also hear her move around - it soundz kind of like dunking your head under the bath and then moving the water with your hands or feet. I could also hear another sound, a regular heart-beat-like whooshing. This I assume ot be Cat's blood supply into the placenta. An incredibly strong and pulsating sound, different to listening to a normal heartbeat. I apologised to Cat for making her my personal biology experiment, but she seemed to take delight in my delight.