Tuesday 30 August 2011

Shopping with baby

With LHG a little over a week old, Giovanna and I decided to take him on his first shopping trip to the Big Shops. She only needed nursing bras, I wanted to pick up a some shower spray and a magazine. How hard could that be?

Well, for a start, I have no idea how a person, let alone one who's not long given birth, would cope with that pushchair on their own. It took two of us to fold it down (when we'd worked out how to do it!) and put it in the boot of the car. It barely fitted, despite the boot being a decent size, and we had to detach the body from the frame. Individually, each piece weighed a ton, so I can't imagine how anybody would lift it normally.

Sadly, LHG was clearly not enamoured of his pushchair. No, not nearly as good as being held in someone's arms. The only thing it was good for was carrying the shopping. Did you know that every shop is set out as a slalom for pushchairs and prams? I had been ignorant of this purpose till I started to negotiate them. And when your pushchair has a will of its own (and boy, does this one have a will of its own), places like Lakeland become scary. I don't remember it being this hard with a pram all those years ago. Imagine trying to steer a toddler as well.

With LHG getting worked up, we decided it was a good point to stop for lunch, With the two of us enjoying a sandwich and a cup of coffee, it would have been an ideal time for him to tuck in himself. So what did he do? Fell asleep, little mouth open, away with the fairies.

Later, with Giovanna trying to find nursing bras in her size, he awoke once again. She carried and jiggled and rocked while I searched, then I carried and jiggled and rocked while she searched for this illusive size. Finally, with only two such bras in existence it seemed, we headed for the till. LHG was not only screaming by this point, but smelly. I headed off for the baby change rooms while Giovanna parted with much cash (have you seen the price of nursing bras?). My grandson hates, abhors and detests having his nappy changed, so by the time Giovanna turned up, he was in full, red-faced screeching mode. She sat and fed him while I escaped to buy my magazine.

Four hours after we'd set off, we arrived home, exhausted. Unlike a lot of babies, LHG doesn't fall asleep in the car.

A few days later, we repeated the shopping experience with Great Grandad TC and my step mother-in-law, Great Grandma C. After a couple of hours of pass the baby, the grandparents went ahead and started whispering to each other. Were they sorry they'd ever started on this shopping trip? Were they planning their escape? No, it seems they'd come up with an idea. While I danced and jiggled with LHG, they took Giovanna to look at baby slings. She chose a simple, fabric one. He snuggled in and was out like a light.

So far it's been a great success.

Tuesday 16 August 2011

At last!

No, it hasn't taken another 11 days for Blodwyn to be born, though it seemed like it at the time.

We returned to the maternity department at 6pm, as instructed. JW's mum was there to meet us. I had a text from the OH at 7.45: Hope u r not on 4 another long night. So did we.

I recall at some point JW coming to tell us Giovanna was 5cm dilated. His mum and I sat in the corridor, mostly on the wide window sills, the three (!) chairs provided being monumentally uncomfortable. Apart from which, they were occupied much of the night by sleeping fathers-to-be. Why were they there, I wondered. Had they had enough of nothing happening or did they just not want to be at the business end of the birth?

Several women walked down the corridor to admissions, huffing and puffing, Most did the return journey, disappointed, some hour or two later. With the maternity department full, these women were doomed to roam the grounds or go home, only to repeat the experience some time in the near future.

Every now and again new mums would appear, being pushed in a bed to a ward, new babe in arms. One or two were even walking! For a while, one father-to-be paced up and down the corridor, mobile phone glued to his ear, giving several relatives updates on the situation. Finally, someone poked their head around the door of one of the wards and called him. He sprinted excitedly down its length. He and his partner appeared in the corridor with their new sprog later on. JW's mother and I were still waiting.

Around 10.30, we were allowed in briefly to see how Giovanna was getting on. Sitting on the bed, she was sucking in the gas and air like she was an industrial vacuum cleaner. And it was her second tank. 'Remember what I told you about Christine?' I said. She nodded limply.

Many years before, a friend of mine had almost gone to sleep overdoing on the gas and air. It was when she heard the midwife proclaim, as if from far away, 'If she keeps on with that, it'll be hours before this baby's born,' that she finally put the mask down and got on with it.

Giovanna, undeterred by my cautionary tale, stuck the tube back in her mouth (no more masks!) and resumed her Dyson impression.

I sent a text to the OH, explaining she was 7cm dilated. His reply? Should be soon then. You wouldn't think he was a father of four.

At quarter to eleven I received this text from Aunty C: I think I'd have asked them to cut it out by now! Lest anyone think her heartless, I must explain that she's a vet, and a farm vet at that. All the same, I'm rather relieved Giovanna didn't give birth ultra quickly the weekend before when C was visiting!

Around 4.30am, Giovanna appeared in the corridor, no babe in arms, being moved to another ward for the final push. But she was going to need a little help. She didn't register us at all, JW giving a brief explanation as he trotted behind.

Little else was happening in the corridor by this time, apart from a grandfather (the only one we saw) sitting on the uncomfy chairs, having a quiet quarrel on his mobile. I think it was with his wife.

A little after five, I noticed it was getting light. By now JW's mum and I had got a second wind. I felt like I'd never sleep again, though by this time I'd slept only three hours in the previous 74.

Six o'clock in the morning, Saturday 6th August, and finally JW appeared to greet us with the happy news. LHG had been born just after 5.30, all 8lbs 9oz of him, screaming his annoyance at being extracted with forceps from his cosy room.

JW's mum ('Nana') and I popped in to see our grandson. Giovanna looked remarkably well considering what she'd just been through. I think at some point I said, 'It's not called labour for nothing,' though she'd clearly worked that out for herself.

Nana reckoned LHG was the spit of JW as a newborn, whereas I was convinced he looked like his Uncle Peter and Uncle Jack. Ah, that's grandmothers for you!

Friday 5 August 2011

In out, in out, shake it all about.

Shaking it all about may be the next option for Giovanna.

It is 2pm on Friday, and we've been to hospital twice today already.

10.30pm, Thursday. Phone call: 'Contractions are four to five minutes apart, the hospital has told me to have a bath and ring...'  Unable to finish the sentence due to a contraction, James took over. I scooted round there, waited while she finished her bath and made the phone call. Part way through, I took over, as another pain assailed her. This had to be it.

You don't notice all the bumps and lumps in a road until you're driving a woman in labour to hospital. Every three to four minutes it was, 'Ow, ow, owww!' Huff in, puff out, till finally a sigh as it passed over.

Shortly after we reached our destination, JW's mother arrived and we sat in the waiting room for the prognosis. Conclusion: 3cm dilated. 'You can either walk round and round to get it going, or go home and rest,' the midwife told her. 'I'm not going home!' she declared, promptly doing a tour of the hospital grounds with JW.

His mum and I reminisced about our own labours (her three lasted 2 hours, 20 minutes and 10 minutes - not fair!). They popped back a couple of times, during which JW pointed out the graffitied, let's say, male appendage  drawn high on the wall. 'Ironic,' I pointed out,'Since that's what's brought us here'. 'Yeah,' agreed JW. 'I'm surprised they didn't write "It's all you fault!" underneath.' Poor Giovanna. It's hard to laugh when you're in pain.

After another walk, Giovanna was back, deciding regretfully that she couldn't trek around the hospital grounds all night.

I drove them home as the sun appeared over Essex - an intense orange ball I've never seen the like of before. Amazing. Giovanna was too busy huffing and puffing to notice.

Three hours sleep later, JW was on the phone, so back we went. At least the cafe was open this time so I was able to wile away a couple of hours reading and drinking coffee before they appeared again. This time they had instructions to return at 6pm to have her waters broken. Fitting, since that was the time she was due to go in for induction. The labour suites being filled to absolute capacity prevented them from breaking her waters there and then.

Funny, I've never known many people with August birthdays, but the future years will obviously be filled with them. And, there's not even holiday time or bad weather to blame.

Thursday 4 August 2011

Yes it is, no it isn't

As Aunty C left for the wilds of the West Country on Monday, she said, rather forlornly, 'I suppose Blod will turn up the moment I'm gone.'

My OH, away in Wales over Tuesday and Wednesday to attend a funeral (ironically at the other end of the mortal coil) was similarly convinced. It looked like he might be right when I had a text from Giovanna Tuesday evening saying, 'Dnt want 2 worry u,' - which is guaranteed to do just that - 'bt ive been havin regular but spread out bak crampy type things.'

This was more hopeful than the vague back ache she'd been complaining of earlier. My own contractions had happened in my back all those years ago, so maybe hers would to. When I rang the OH to tell him, he moaned, 'I thought it would happen while I was away!'

A text at 4.30 the following morning seemed to confirm his fears: 'Had a show n my contractions are closer now.' She rang the hospital but they don't want to see you unless your contractions are three to four minutes apart, or your waters have broken.

By quarter past nine, the contractions were five to ten minutes apart, 'n have been 4 the last 5 hours'. Eh? Only four in the last five hours but ten minutes apart? Got to love text speak - she meant 'have been for the last five hours'!

Passing on the info to interested parties, I got an email back from a friend: 'OMG OMG OMG!!!!! This is it!'

Except it wasn't. A day and a half later, and she's still waiting. 'They never show all this waiting round in films!' Giovanna grumbled. Bet she's glad she didn't rush off to hospital 4.30 yesterday morning!

Monday 1 August 2011

Aunty C and the nephew no-show

A lovely week went by at my Writers' holiday, the latter word being a misnomer if ever I heard one. Saturday, I returned home to an untidy house (what did I expect leaving three men in charge?) and a visit from Aunty C who had boyfriend and dogs in tow. Blod, she figured, being five days late. would surely make an appearance over the weekend.

Early Sunday morning my husband's mobile rang out, causing him to leap out of bed - not easy when you're on the wall side. I sat bolt upright, looking hopeful, till he mouthed 'Work call' at me. Work call, on a Sunday? Someone needs to get a life. 'Why is your phone even on?' I enquired after the conversation was over. 'Um, because we're waiting for a call from our daughter?' he replied without quite saying, 'Duh!' Well, it was early. 

Later on that day, we marched Giovanna around a country park in the beautiful Darent Valley, Aunty C, boyfriend, dogs and all. It was hot and uphill. Mum-to-be complained of sciatic pain and a need for the loo, but other than that - nothing. Apart from my husband deciding he might like to be called 'Pa', like my great-grandad.

At around six we took Giovanna home so she could make something for dinner with chilli. That obviously hasn't worked either. She's already tried pineapple and raspberry leaf tea - together! - to no avail.

It's now Monday evening. Aunty C and entourage have gone back to the West Country, disappointed.  She's trudging back next weekend as Giovanna is due to be induced on Friday. Finally, she'll get to meet her first nephew. 

Probably.