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

thomasross20

Oh what! Congratulations  
Hope you get a lot of sleep

dazzajl

The updates are becoming quite the important part of my day. I’m hoping today the expressing/feeding has been a bit easier. Not many of us realise just how much pressure there is there. 

Legionreturns

Day 6: Saturday

The Boob Whisperer

Firstly, I’m writing this on Sunday night, as the last two days have been full on! If I miss any details, I’ll make up for it in suitably appealing fiction. Hey, it worked for Boris!

Mrs R had been visited by a good friend of hers during Friday afternoon, who had given her some help with getting her baps working as they should. Annoyingly, all the time she was on the actual maternity ward, as a patient, she had received zero help or advice on looking after her fun bags and making sure they weren’t getting clogged. The Boob Whisperer really helped her with getting things moving, as she had a couple of rocks attached to her chest. This is why Albert was able to give it a go in the evening. Well, overnight, he woke up screeching for food at about 2, and as we were close by, the first member of the J team (more on that later) had the bright idea to give Mrs R a nudge and see if he’d have another go at the real deal.

The little champ did a full 40 minutes before being topped up with a feed down his tube, and then went back to sleep with a very silly grin on his face.

When we woke up, we were told that we were welcome to stay another night, as he had started trying to feed, and we might be able to get him properly going if we stayed close by. We gratefully accepted, but then realised we had a lot of stuff to do before we could return to our free at the point of use hotel room. We disappeared to run a load of errands, leaving an expressed offering to the milk god and a promise that we would be back to try a feed at his 3pm public appearance.

First job was to attend the beautician, where Mrs R had a long booked “Pre having a baby” wax and beauty treatment booked! …and she says MY diary skills are poor! It was actually pretty nice for her to have a bit of time being pampered though, and she relaxed quite a lot. While she was on the table, I finally got around to reading her my diary so far. All three of us (including her beautician) laughed, cried and nodded sagely at various points. I repeatedly got told off for making Mrs R laugh, as that hurt her wound! At the end, I was strongly encouraged to anonymise it and give it to Skaboo to give to other dads when they first come in, as they both said it was really interesting to hear a bloke’s perspective.

Second job; get some lunch at the outlaws. Saturday lunchtime is a family tradition, where the two of us, and all the old members of the clan get together and eat one of 3 different meals on a strict rotation that never ever must be changed, or the gods will be angry. It is also tradition that this meal is accompanied by ultra-boiled potatoes and whatever veg has been in the pan longest. Absolutely unmissable!

That done, we headed for home for more supplies, clean clothes and to pick up various bits of post. All very boring, but actually quite stressful as Mrs R was very sore, and to top it all off, had pretty much missed the window for expressing. Her fun bags were once again becoming harder than an ATOS assessment, although they were rapidly becoming unfit for work!

When we finally got back to the hospital, the wee man found it understandably tricky to get anything much off the production line, as the conveyer belts were now pretty much jammed solid. We gave him a tube feed, and then decided to call the Boob Whisperer again!

Sadly, she doesn’t have a massive pair of baps in the sky type signal to summon her, so we had to make do with WhatsApp. It actually seemed easier in hindsight. I wonder why Batman didn’t just use the free WiFi?

When she promptly arrived (she doesn’t drive a boobmobile either. Disappointed!) she took Mrs R back to our room for a intensive and detailed boob fixing session, which I was not allowed to take part in, or even take a video. Apparently the key is to think of boobs as being like a chocolate orange. No you filthy whatsits! As in, each milk duct is like a segment, and you have to follow the lines to clear the ducts by working them with your thumbs. Anyway, whatever the boob whisperer said, it worked a treat, as they emerged triumphant with a nearly full goblet of holy boob nectar to lay at the feet of the milk god.

That evening, Junior found it way easier and got on with the job with earnest at every opportunity, backed up by the occasional tube feed to keep his energy levels up and his tummy full. He’s not bad at it for a preemie apparently, and especially for a boy, as they are notoriously lazy! Overnight he had his biggest feed ever and gave the J Team enough confidence to proceed with a plan.

dazzajl

Update much appreciated. I hope you realise how invested you have us in the progress of Albert

joneve

Christ! What a rollercoaster of emotions! I read the whole thing dreading the worst! But what a fantastically written account and he looks like a right belter. 

Makes me realise how lucky we were to be in and out in around 12 hours; and even having to be re-admitted after the 3 day weigh in for 48 hours (which, at the time, was quite traumatic), pales in comparison. 

All the best to you all, sir! 

Teyeplayer

Hugest congratulations to you both. Keep the awesome work up, you are BOTH doing amazing.  

Legionreturns

Day 7: Sunday

The J Team

At 7:30 am, the second member of the J Team arrived, and they had a conflab to which me and Mrs R were invited. The master plan of Jackie (nightshift) and Jo (day shift) was to stop the tube feeds, and see how Albert got on with demand feeding. After a brief pause to film a training montage, together with dramatic music and something made out of an old maternity bra, an express pump and a blow torch, we embarked on operation “Demand Feed”!

The youngling was promptly informed that he would not be getting any tube feeds today, and whatever sustenance he required, he would have to fight for using his own fair lips. He actually seemed pretty keen on the plan, and had a right rip-roaring start, with 3 feeds in an hour either side of breakfast.

Until this point, his tube feeds had been every 3 hours, with a little go on the boob whilst he was getting the shortcut snack to help him associate boob with that comfy full feeling.

We weren’t really sure how much he was getting from his breakfast feeds, and aside from his almost Hobbit like assertion that he should have not only second breakfast, but also third, we still suspected that he wouldn’t be taking on quite as much milk. Jo informed us that she expected him to grab maybe two hours kip and then shout the place down for his next batch, so we went back to the room for a chill, and to receive one, carefully chosen visitor.

On the subject of visitors; we were told what seems like an age ago now, by our Ante Natal coach, that there would be two types of visitor once your baby arrives.

The first will be the ones who can remember their own first struggles with parenthood, and will arrive armed with not only the usual spattering of tacky gifts, but also some marigolds and a can do attitude. “Visitors offering help are always to be welcomed” she said. “The second type of visitor will show up on your doorstep, expecting tea and cake, hospitality and baby cuddles. Tell those ones to f*** off! You don’t need them in your life!”

Our visitor had driven down from the north east, and the original plan was for her to bring my eldest with her to come and meet her baby brother, and some specific supplies that she had acquired for us the previous day. (Big knickers are apparently easier to buy in ‘Boro, although I can’t quite work out why!).

Very sadly, this morning, my daughter had a proper anxiety attack and couldn’t quite face the prospect of 2 hours in a car with someone she doesn’t know, so will save her first bro meeting for later down the line. I’ve spent a good deal of time on the phone reassuring and calming her today, and she will get there, it just might be when I can go up and get her myself.

Anyway, the visitor we did receive had definitely earned her baby cuddle reward and was going to get it no matter what. Only issue was that Albert had decided that the batch of breakfasts he had supped were more than enough to sustain him well past the predicted two hours. In fact, he was still sleeping 4 hours later and hadn’t yet demanded another feed. J2 checked using his feeding tube to see if he still had milk in his tummy, which he did. We were amazed, and he is obviously getting far more from the boob than we realised. Good lad!

The best way to wake him is to do his nappy and take a few layers off, but even after this he was still a bit groggy. Jo suggested that he might have a touch of jaundice returning, which is not uncommon, and does tend to make babies lethargic.

He did eventually wake up enough to feed a little, but fell straight back to sleep. All things being equal, we opted to reset the clock on the mission, and pop a feed down his tube to keep him going. He was however, powerless to resist the attentions of our visitor and cuddles were granted as required.

The reset worked nicely, as he got up for feeds pretty much on schedule for the rest of the day. He had his bloods taken to check his jaundice level again, as he was showing a few signs, and he has indeed crept above the acceptable line. Overnight, he was moved back into an Ark to get some blue rays and fix him.

It was actually a bit of a downer, despite being nothing much to worry about. I should have been prepared for it really. I’d seen him tubed, and stabbed and monitored with all sorts of devices over the last week. This one tiny regression is non-invasive, necessary and temporary. Seeing him back in a box though, was one of the things that has hurt the most. Taking off his clothes and putting them away again felt symbolic, even though it shouldn’t have.

In other, more positive news, Jo & Jackie have said that all things being equal, he shouldn’t still be here when they come back on shift at the weekend, as he’s well established in his feeding. The next phase of their plan will have to be enacted by the rest of the team now, as they are both off for a few days of well earned rest. The plan is for him to move down to our room and let us see how we get on with him on our own. They will still do observations, and the plan is not hindered by him being in a blue lit ark (although our sleep might be!) If all this works, which they think will be a doddle, he will be coming home as soon as his levels are right. Woohoo!

I’ll sign of for today with a bizarre observation, and a challenge! It’s competition time!

Pockets of Wisdom

Several of the outfits that Albert has been dressed in come complete with pockets. Usually a smart looking breast pocket, like the one on a 1980s button up work shirt, where you are supposed to keep your leaky biro! The question is; what does a baby need pockets for? I’ve asked him, and checked his belongings, so far, I have discovered no wallet, pen, car keys, mobile phone or anything that might fit in such a tiny pocket. I’m stumped!

Legionreturns

To give a big well done to Mrs R for getting the boob thing nailed, I snuck this surprise in and left it on her bed. She giggled; lots! (See Saturday!)


Back in the blue lit Ark for now.  

dazzajl

The pocket is for him to keep the little piece of your heart that he will be keeping hold of for you from now on. 

Legionreturns

dazzajl said:

The pocket is for him to keep the little piece of your heart that he will be keeping hold of for you from now on. 

That's...actually a really lovely answer! Thanks