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Being a Skaboo dad- An open diary (CW – Mental Health, Cute Pics)

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  • Balrog68Balrog68 Frets: 100
    Congratulations... Wonderful narrative! My eldest boy is 29 and we lived thru a similar experience with his twin boys.... Now 17 months old and in rude, boisterous, wonderful, cheeky chappy health.
    As a grandad, watching and waiting from the sidelines, wanting to take all the pain away, but being helpless, was awful, and I feel every bit of your pain and joy.
    Hope your all together for Christmas. Sliante! 
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  • Day 4: Thursday

    Red and Blue

    Today felt a little bit disjointed if I’m honest. We had resolved to get to Skaboo early, for morning rounds, so we could talk to the consultant and get an update on Albert direct from the horses mouth. This meant that we had to be there by 9, and despite breakfast being at 8, Mrs R didn’t get her breakfast until 8:50 as hers is the last room in the wing of 3 wards.

    We raced (well, I say raced, Mrs R is still moving like a constipated duck that’s had it’s feet tied together at the moment!) down to Skaboo with toast crumbs still smeared on cheeks.

    While waiting for the big wigs to turn up, we chatted to the midwife in charge, and the Student Midwife on her second year, doing six months in the Neo Natal unit. All of the staff we have dealt with on this long ride have been absolutely first class, but these two in particular are simply breathtaking. The dedication to do something so heart wrenching as looking after very poorly babies, and yes, lose a few along the way is incredible. Yes, I could cope with the cuteness overload and the constant cuddles, but the tragedies that they bear every week are more than us mortals could cope with, and they do it with love, care and professionalism.

    Anyway, they advised us to salute and stand to attention when the big knobs finally arrived (the most serious clothing we had seen to date, not a clown suit or pair of Crocs in sight!) we gathered around Albert’s Ark to get an update. The list of positives was pretty damn pleasing. He’s finished his anti-biotics and shows no signs of infection, so his canula has gone. They’ve reduced temperature in his pod closer to normal to get him ready for life in the outside world. (I had no idea 29 degrees was normal in Halifax in December. Must move down the hill for the warmer climate!) and he is building up his feeds nicely, and not chucking it all back up. The one tick still needed was to get him back well below the acceptable line for Jaundice, which is looking pretty solid. He’s been fitted with a pair of ultra cool cloth goggles that make him look a bit like a 1980s wrestler and blasted with blue light for large parts of the last day or so. This morning, after briefing, they turned it off and binned his RayBans! They ran another test late tonight, and if all that goes smoothly, tomorrow, he gets transferred from Ark to cot and gets to put on some real clothes for the first time. Awesome! Crossing everything.

    We went back upstairs and finished breakfast and then decided to democracy.

    Democracying is pretty difficult when you have had your insides reorganised, so with the help of the ward Midwife, who filled in the necessary government paperwork, I set off on a ridiculous tour of Huddersfield just to get the missus an emergency proxy vote. Apparently, if you can’t make it to the polling station, 30 yards from your house, on polling day, all you have to do is fill in a form, with a professional backing you up, and take it to the Civic Centre Electoral Office, 5 miles from your house in the middle of a busy town instead. Logic. Gotta love it! I embarked on my mission to ensure we both had our say, which took me around 2 hours! This isn’t a political post, so I’m not going into any of that, but we both deemed it important to be done. If you really want a clue, remember that we are both teachers, then check the title of today’s diary entry!

    We then hit the Skaboo for the quiet session in the afternoon, which was amazing! Albert was bright as a button, and we got 2 hours of skin to skin cuddles, a nappy change, a feed and lots of burbles from him. I think it’s safe to say he quite likes spending time with his mum and dad now. I finally got a go at skin to skin, and loved every minute of it. He seemed ok with rug as a fairly poor substitute for boob, and settled in for a nap in my hairy man cleavage!

    He has discovered proper boobs though. He really likes them. Although, like any young man, he doesn’t really appreciate their finer points yet and is currently restricting himself to clumsy fumbles and motor boating. Keep trying kid, you’ll get there!

    The day ended with more tears from Mrs R, who’s in lots of pain, and still struggling with the absence of Albert, and with boobs that really need him to get a clue and start making them feel better. In other news, it looks like she’s coming home tomorrow, which will be both good and bad, as we will both be further from our boy at night instead of just me. We made time for a pretty difficult to achieve cuddle. Our first proper one since Sunday night. Let me tell you, that squeezing my 6’6” frame into a single hospital bed, next to someone who has recently been treated like a Bernard Matthews turkey crown is not easy!

    Back home alone for the last time now, and settling in to sleep on my own again.

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  • Bloody hell Legion, the last post (and all your others) was a mix between heartwrenching and fucking funny.  You really have a way with words, I did have a chuckle about the line of your son nestling in the midst of your hairy moobage.

    Thanks for taking the time to write about your experiences and good luck to you, Mrs Legion and Albert.
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  • Just a quick, non diary entry response! 

    Thank you to everyone that's replied, shared similar stories and passed on well wishes etc. 

    I'm absolutely not ignoring you, I've read every single reply, some of them many times over. 

    Today I was out of the house from 8am to 11:30pm so I didn't get a lot of time to sit and type, but I sincerely value every comment. 

    Thank you!

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  • Hi.  Thank you for sharing this.  Its made me laugh and made me cry.  Its also brought back memories of 4 years ago when my grandson now 4 years old and who is currently asleep next to me was born a bit early.  His mum lives with me and Mrs T so whilst Im grandad, Im also to a large extent the "dad" figure in his life.

    That first few days when mum and Mrs T were keeping a long vigil at the hospital was one of the loneliest I can remember as I did all the practical running around but was heading home each night on my tod.  Your description of returning to a cold and empty house, resonates.

    I hope you get Albert home for Christmas.

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  • Sounds like you might be on the final stretch now and they're just waiting for him to be strong enough.
    ဈǝᴉʇsɐoʇǝsǝǝɥɔဪቌ
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  • LuttiSLuttiS Frets: 2243
    "nap in my hairy man cleavage"

    That line will stay with me... and next time i see you it's probably all i will think about. 


    I saw the original fb post, then when i started reading this i was on the edge of my seat with a horrible feeling! All the best for everyone, hope you're spoiling Albert & Mrs. R rotten for Christmas :)
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  • WindmillGuitarsWindmillGuitars Frets: 730
    tFB Trader
    Congrats @Legionreturns - having had a seriously prem baby in our extended family (26.6) I too have some serious admiration for the teams in SKABOO units. Props also to writing a Dad Blog on this... 
    www.windmillguitars.com - Official stockist of Yamaha, Maybach, Fano Guitars, Kithara Guitars, Eastman Guitars, Trent Guitars, Orange Amps, Blackstar Amplification & More! (The artist formerly known as Anchorboy)
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  • mrkbmrkb Frets: 6637
    edited December 2019

    Good to hear its going well for you all Chris, It seems such a short time since your heartfelt marriage proposal to this huge enjoyable/nerve wracking event, I suspect your emotions are all over the place. Take care of yourself  and look after the missus!

    Enjoy the fact that @bridgehouse isn't lying on the floor taking photos of it all ;)

    Karma......
    Ebay mark7777_1
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  • dazzajldazzajl Frets: 5653
    Today seems like a very good day to revisit my happiest moment and this thread seems like just the right place to do it. As you’ll be passing through somewhere like it in the next few days. 

    Back in the summer of 99, my first little one arrived. In a big hurry and a little over a month ahead of time. Like a lot of guys in their late twenties, I wasn’t really charging headlong into the idea of parenthood and was pretty much terrified about every part of it. Of course, like many Dads, the second she appeared, that all changed in a heartbeat. Literally. When she wasn’t able to breath properly and was raced off to intensive care, that fear of the unknown and all that change instantly became extreme anguish over the plight of this teeny creature I’d never even held but adored. 

    Like your little Albert, she was placed in her ark and hooked up to all sorts of apparatus that dwarfed her. For days we couldn’t even hold her. 

    Then those miracle makers made her better by the hour and within a few days she was in a little crib and was physically with us finally. Another 
    few days past and slowly the routine settled in of visit the hospital, go to work, back to the hospital, home for a little sleep and repeat. 

    After a couple of days like this, Megan was out of danger, being monitored for jaundice levels and going up the weight charts. I remember finishing a day at work that had dragged on and on and on. Driven to hospital mostly on autopilot. Found my parking space, wandered through the endless stairs and corridors. Got past the security for the unit and made it to the hand washing room. 

    As I stood there going through the thorough scrub routine. Round the thumbs, back of the hands, one hand balled in to the other, between each finger.... the most peaceful and happy feeling I had ever felt descended over me. I’d done all the stuff that was needed. I’d made it through the longest day and in just seconds, I’d walk through the last set of doors and hold my perfect baby girl in my arms. 

    I know you have mum and son to be worrying about and you’re not at all new to being a Dad. Still, I hope some little mindful moments full of joy find you too. 
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  • Thanks for sharing that @dazzajl , really appreciate and identify with much of that already!

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  • DB1DB1 Frets: 5024
    So glad that it's working out for you all. If it's of any help, my daughter (she wasn't early, a trait she's bloody well continued for the past thirty years!) was breach birth and it was a difficult, frightening, potentially dangerous, painful (for my wife) night in that hospital wondering how it was all going to turn out. Our situation was nowhere near as traumatic as yours, of course.

    Last month, though, I included some of the moments (made more lighthearted, of course) from that night (I have to say, that revolved around my unfortunate choice of curry and Mackeson earlier in the evening) in my proud 'father of the bride' speech at her wedding. There's a lot of happy years for you all ahead.
    Call me Dave.
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  • Day 5: Friday

    “I’m not sure there’s an emojie for that”

    Today has been a real roller coaster.

    Before I crack on, and in the interest of protecting the weak of heart, Albert is fine. It’s all the other drama that’s been a problem!

    I over slept this morning. Hardly surprising, given that I have been running on adrenaline since Monday, and most people wouldn’t begrudge me a bit of a catch up on sleep. I do however have one very vocal critic, and when ever I fuck something up, he lets me know in no uncertain terms by giving me a kick in the guts that leaves me feeling like I’ve accidentally eaten a week old curry. I am of course referring to myself!

    On this particular morning, my fuck up had some pretty serious consequences. Mrs R was likely to be discharged today, we knew that. However, as she was eating her breakfast, a nurse appeared in her room and said she had half an hour to be ready to go, and her choices were discharge or go for a one night stay in one of the parent’s rooms on SCBU. Half an hour to grab a shower, express some milk, and pack all your shit when you are basically a paraplegic penguin is not very long. And this fuck up wasn’t there to help. By the time I arrived she had been dragged to SCBU with all her belongings and deposited, in tears, into a room out at the back.

    I had the teary phone call while driving to Halifax, and I would have kicked myself if I hadn’t been stuck in traffic and riding the clutch like a pro. In other news, I also had a call from my daughter’s school this morning, she was in the AEN unit having had a pretty turbulent time and needed my support. (This is not particularly uncommon, she has ADHD and Autism). It was then that I first noticed the puppet strings, pulling me in two or three different directions at once.

    My eldest (That’s the first time I’ve used that phrase! It’s only really just dawning on me that I can start talking about children instead of my child!) is feeling particularly vulnerable at the moment, what with me having a child with someone else, and living 120 miles away. I have of course made lots of assurances to her that our relationship won’t change, but the plan to include her in the building up to Albert’s birth flew out of the window faster than then one for 40 new Tory hospitals when he came along in such a rush! I’ve been trying to organise a friend to bring her down to meet her little brother over the weekend, which I think is sorted now, but my second teary female of the day needing a rock was not particularly helpful whilst stuck on the Halifax Road in morning traffic.

    I arrived and helped settle Mrs R as best I could, then helped her get set up for her, well overdue attempt at expressing milk. Obviously her mood was far from conducive to firing out boob nectar, which didn’t help either.

    Things got better once we went down to Albert’s room. We both sat and had cuddles, she tried, more successfully to express some milk, and, here’s the big highlight of the day; Albert moved to a cot! Woohoo!

    I got to dress him in his first outfit. Even though it was preemie sized, it still swamped him like a Tory landslide, but he did look cute as a very cute thing on its cutest day!

    I have had a few guilt pangs today, but none more so than when I saw other couples come in and out of Albert’s new room. Other babies in there are in need of much more care, more isolation and rarely get the chance for cuddle release. I felt horribly guilty that we spent so long in there cuddling our baby, when other parents were left sitting beside Arks watching monitors and listening to bleeps. I’m sure they will all be fine, but I really didn’t like where my head was going.

    I’ve been temporarily released early, as I’ve been offered the chance to stay over tonight in her room on a folding bed chair thing that looks ever so comfortable (not) and given that she’s definitely being discharged in the morning, at least I’ll be in throwing distance if I don’t wake up in time to help her. So I’m briefly at home for something to eat, and to pack some bits for me. I may post another update later from the hospital. At least I get to spend the night in the same room as Mrs R tonight, although I’m not convinced I’m her favourite person right now.

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  • Congrats and all the best to you and yours  :)
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  • First outfit!


    No more Ark! 

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  • Day 5: The late session 

    We've just had an absolutely amazing evening in the company of Albert. Lots of cuddles, and the little champ actually boob fed! It wasn't much, or for very long but he did it and I cried!

    We topped him up with his tube feed, but we are seriously impressed that he got the basics of it down at the first real time of asking. Well done lad! You made your mum feel so much better!

    I also introduced him to the 18 year unpaid internship he's about to commence...


    Start 'em young eh!

    Then got him changed into clean stuff for bed and cuddled him to sleep.

    We're both feeling much better this evening. 

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  • brucegillbrucegill Frets: 710
    edited December 2019
    Great news! @Legionreturns ;;

    Weirdly this is actually helping me deal with what we went through nearly 9 years ago. That probably sounds odd, but I mean it with upmost respect and admiration for yourself and mrs R

    i remember the expressing room. There was room for about 9 bays with screens up and that funny “oomph ooopmh” noise in stereo plus those bings and bongs. My wife was really struggling but we had this enormous (I’m only 5’10” and my wife is smaller, so your a bloody giant in my books) Nigerian lady next to us. She was asking for more bottles every 5 mins and could have started a dairy farm all on her own. Didn’t go down well with the wife but it’s stuck in both our memories. I think she feed most of the prems and her own every night. moving to powdered milk was the best thing for us as everyone got to rest a bit and no stress. 

    Good luck fella, and wish you all well. 
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  • Just found this. Probably shouldn’t have read it at work because I’m on the verge of blubbing like a big baby! Brings back memories of both of mine, anguish, heartache and love all off the scale of anything experienced before or since. One horribly stuck in pelvis after hours of
    futile pushing. The other with cord round neck and stopped breathing five minutes after delivery, both b C-section. 

    It it all seems like a dream now but I wouldn’t like to go through it again. The night I got back
    home with both baby and mum still in hospital and no sleep for 48 hours I just cried and cried. 

    Don’t sweat the emotions man. Let them ride over you, feel them and enjoy them, even the “negative” ones. They’re there to guide you and when things calm down you want to look back having ridden the crazy wave like a pro. 

    Awesome writing by the way. Can’t wait for the next instalment. Best wishes to you, R, and A!
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