Baby Diary – Photos!

Our beautiful boy, Zachary Royce, was born April 11, 2011 at 10:58am.

He came into this world via c-section; people assured me that you just feel a bit of tugging and pulling but no pain. No-one told me that it would feel like someone reaching inside me, rearranging my organs and pulling half my innards out. I’ll wager that a c-section is almost as physical undertaking as natural birth, “almost” because at least there’s a time limit. It knocked me around a lot more than I expected it to; I didn’t expect a spinal block to mess with my head, but maybe that was the additional drugs used to stop my blood pressure from falling and to stop the nausea. For someone wanting a drug-free birth, I ended up probably the most drugged up, considering the heavy duty painkillers in the following days. At any rate, it was no walk in the park but we had fabulous people around us and my wonderful husband stayed at hospital with me for the whole 5 days.

We had to be at hospital by 7:30, for a 9:30 caesarean. The time was changed due to an emergency c-section and we didn’t go in until 10:30. So we had a good 3 hours to enjoy the stark hospital room, with neither of us game to unpack entertainment such as a magazine or laptop as we were never quite sure when we would be leaving the room. We met “our” midwife, who neither of us warmed to. Thankfully “our” midwife actually had very little to do with us in theatre, and everyone else in theatre were just lovely and supportive.

 

 

I especially loved our anaesthetist who asked us earlier in the morning to name a band which would make me feel relaxed. I named Portishead and sure enough, he had some Portishead music playing in theatre. He also asked what footy team Zac will barrack for. Not being footy followers, we allocated the defult team for our locale, Carlton. So, somewhat bizarrely, the Carlton team song was played- at least we assume it was; it had the sound of a sport team anthem! The anaesthetist also assured us that he had a corny song to play at the point of birth – turned out to be “Beautiful Boy” which is from one of my favourite albums, just perfect!

 

Our OB had assured us that I could get to have Zac with me immediately for skin-to-skin time (quite important for establishing breastfeeding and encouraging the appropriate hormones to kick in) and that it was only recently that the hospital started allowing  bubs to be with mums in recovery. He did warn me that Zac would need to be wrapped as theatre is quite cold. However the midwife seemed to think that Zac would be taken away immediately for the weighing, checking etc and would join me in recovery. I had read about how you need to be strong and assertive about what you want, it’s your birth etc. However this line of thinking wars with my common sense thinking of “don’t get the nurses off-side” and my disinclination for any kind of confrontation. It is also an area where you have to trust in the professional staff to a certain extent, otherwise why are you there. I felt disappointed and a little disempowered, but figured that as log as Rafe could stay with Zac and it would be just 10 minutes before I could have Zac with me, then I was okay with it. Fortunately our OB knew how important it was to us and arranged with the paediatrician for me to have some skin to skin time as soon as Zac was born.

As it was, I was quite relieved that Zac wasn’t with me for the whole of the stitching up. I was quite out of it, feeling very awkward holding him practically under my chin and was petrified that I would drop him. The birth was a bit rough on Rafe too: the anaesthetist told Rafe to look over the screen and take photos. I presumed it was at the point of Zac being held aloft, but no, it was to see Zac being pulled out of me. I’m impressed Rafe didn’t faint because I surely would have! Rafe also had the dubious honour of cutting the umbilical cord, again not something he’d felt the need or desire to do. It seems that in the quest for inclusion, the partner gets the icky stuff to do and see! (I know that for many people these would be beautiful moments, but we’re not among them. I’m very squeamish and Rafe can’t stand seeing anyone he loves in pain or misery so seeing his wife cut open and then cutting his son’s umbilical cord are right up there with experiences he would love to not have)

 

 

 

 

I was extremely out of it for the first two days whilst the pain was not being managed adequately. I finally received a shot of morphine in the afternoon of day 2 and started to pick up. Although 3.895kg of baby was removed from me, plus whatever weight the placenta was, when I returned home from hospital, I had only lost 2.5kgs – Rafe lost more weight than me and I was the one who gave birth!!!  A major contributing factor to this unsatisfactory situation was fluid retention. I was so swollen I could have been a long lost cousin of the elephant man, really! I’ve had twisted ankles with less swelling than my post-birth ankles, and the swelling didn’t stop there, it went all the way up my legs, presumably around my middle, and, as can bee seen below, my face!

 

We were in hospital on the Monday and discharged on the Friday; I thought that this was the worst day to be discharged with a newborn (many services are closed and the first 24-48 hours seems a crucial time to get help) but then I found out that a friend had been discharged with her newborn on Christmas Eve, and she didn’t call anyone for help because she didn’t want to ruin anyone’s Christmas. Having only survived the first week home with daily help from Rafe’s parents, and ongoing regular visits from his mum, I can’t even imagine how hard it would be to be alone and not wanting to call anyone for help.