A freshly bathed and sqeaky clean Henry, at age 1 month and 1 day - May 21. The day previous to this Tiff and Henry made their way to the early childhood centre for weighing and measuring. Since birth he has grown 4cm (now 55cm long), and has put on about 1 1/2 pounds (now 4.8 kg - 10.6 lb).  

In case anyone is wondering why so many baby photos are taken whilst the baby is alseep, it's generally for two reasons. 1 - It's usually the only time you've got two spare hands to take a photo. 2 - Cuteness, of course. What you are seeing in this picture is the equivalent of the 50 cent piece shown in photos of small objects to give an idea of scale. Where Henry lies on the scale of adorability is given perspective, by comparing him with the big ugly mug in the background. 

I would like to say I took this picture as it's one of the best we have of him, thanks to Tina who came to visit and captured this. I'll keep snapping away in my usual haphazard fashion, knowing I'll get lucky every now and then. Thanks to digital cameras I can thankfully do this without wasting roll upon roll of film. 

This photo was taken on May 14, as we were on our way to attend Dot and Max's wedding. Henry stayed at home in the capable hands of Tiff's mum Jackie. This was an interesting time as it was our first evening without him, and although we did have a great time seeing our friends and having a couple of drinks we did miss him. 

After we had been home about a week, we had a visit from the early childhood centre to make sure we were progressing well. After determining that we were keeping sane and rested (these terms are of course relative to the situation, and starting points) Henry was put on the scales, and we found that he had put on the weight he had lost during his hospital stay - only around 40 grams or so. In addition to this he had also gained 250 brand new grams so he's up to around 9 1/2 pounds. Like his parents he eats like there's a job to be done, so no doubt we will see him carry on in this direction for a little while yet. He seems to have lost some slight chubbiness from the cheeks, but is still doing pretty well in that department regardless. 

David and Lyndal's car capsule being put to use here.. very handy things these the way they double as a carrier. You could probably stick wheels on them and remove the need for a stroller, but then that would mean we wouldn't get to pick him up quite as often so we won't be trying for that any time soon (and by the time he is too big to pick up he'll be out of the capsule anyway). 

After a few days at home trying the various methods, locations, and positions that Henry likes to spend his time prior to falling asleep (as these would sometimes change with alarming regularity) , we glanced into the corner of the flat that contains a small mountain of items on loan from various friends who have previously ventured into this life of parenting, and spotted "the rocker".
Mim and Phil, we thank you for this. Although only Henry fits within, it has provided all three of us with many hours of sleep. 

Post feed - Henry doing an impression of a small grub curled up with Tiff. 

Apologies for the lack of updates in the past few days, however I will endeavour to make up for this in the next day or so. Here is one of Henry on his first day back home. Note that he still has his identification tags on for some reason. Perhaps mum and dad wanted to make sure he looked as good at home as he did in the shop in case we needed to return him....
I think we can count that as embarressing dad joke #1... hundreds more to come I'm sure. 

 

Dinner time takes its toll. 

This photo was taken the day before we left the hospital. 

Henry's first day at home, kicking back on the couch with Tiff. 

Henry James Donald Hobson – the birth story

Tuesday, 19 April 2005

I am officially eight days overdue; with little baby still determined not to make an appearance we head off to hospital to commence the scheduled induction. We arrive at the Mater Hospital at 21.30 and I am given an internal exam which confirms baby is still positioned very high in my pelvis and I am 0cm dilated. A monitor is placed around my tummy to check on baby’s heart beat which confirms I am not experiencing contractions. At 22.45 a synthetic prostaglandin gel is put on my cervix in the hope to ripen it and trigger labour. Michael is told to go home and get some rest and come back in the morning.

Wednesday, 20 April 2005

I find it difficult to sleep (being in a strange bed and all that) and wake up around 03.00 with some mild cramping. Excited that the gel is working and this could be the start of my contractions and early labour, I call the nurse for some pain relief options knowing I have a big day ahead and need all the rest I can get. I am given some Panadeine and a hot pack and go back to sleep.

At 06.00 the nurse wakes me up and performs another internal exam. Overnight I have dilated to 1cm, but baby has still not dropped low enough into my pelvis. As I am already having contractions a repeat application of the prostaglandin gel is not needed. I am told to pack a small bag of toiletries and whatever else I fancy as I am being moved to the delivery suite and my obstetrician will be in at 07.00 to give me another internal exam and artificially rupture my membranes (ie break my waters). I call Michael and tell him to get back to the hospital. He arrives within 20 minutes to help set up camp in the delivery suite, and my obstetrician arrives at 07.40. The good doctor then proceeds to break my waters, meaning that finally things are really starting to happen.

We are both given some breakfast at 08.35 and the contractions are increasing in regularity and intensity. My contractions are only lasting around 30-40 seconds and are still a few minutes apart. To deal with the discomfort, the breathing techniques and pelvic rocking manoeuvres I have learnt at pre-natal yoga are working well. Michael is being very supportive giving me back rubs between contractions and keeping me focused on my breathing. As the pain intensifies I decide to have a shower so I can use the stream of hot water on my lower back to soothe myself. It seems to work, as it is around now that I declare I don’t want to leave the shower because the hot water feels so good. I really would like to sit in a hot bath; however decide against it as the midwife informs me that the bath could slow down my contractions, and therefore prolong the labour.

At 09.30 I am hooked up to a drip of oxytocin that increases the strength and regularity of contractions. Monitors are again strapped to my tummy to monitor baby’s heartbeat and record the contractions. Once the drip starts my contractions become stronger and as a consequence, more painful. They are still only 30-40 seconds long, but they are doubling up and there are fewer breaks in between.

The midwife gives me another internal exam at 12.00 and I am disappointed to be told I had only dilated 2-3cm. As labour is getting more painful I ask for some pethidine. By now I have stopped my pelvic rocking and was focused solely on my breathing. I am now even vocalising some “oohs” and “aahs” (Surprisingly during my entire labour I only swear twice. Really!)

It’s 14.00 and I’ve had enough of the pain. The pethidine hasn’t helped and whilst I have had another hot shower I realise if I am to reach the goal of dilating to 10cm I’m not going to make it without some serious drugs. I am becoming exhausted and the midwife estimates I could be in labour for another eight hours before we get to the pushing stage. Bugger that, I ask for an epidural.

Ah, the wonderful feeling of not feeling. The epidural has worked a treat. I now watch my contractions on the monitor and not feel them. We are also noticing that every time the monitor shows I am having a contraction the baby’s heartbeat seems to drop, as we are listening to that through the monitor as well. The midwife gives me another internal exam and says I am now 4cm dilated.

Now 15.00, the midwife is concerned due to baby’s slowing heartbeat during each contraction. I am taken off the oxytocin drip but this of course slows down the contractions and dilation process. Putting me back on the drip speeds up the labour process but distresses the baby. The midwife has been updating my obstetrician by phone all day on my progress, and at 17.00 he returns to my delivery suite and we discuss the options of delivering the baby. As baby’s head is still not low enough in my pelvis and I am dilating at a snail’s pace, it is estimated if I continue with the drip (distressing the baby) I could be in labour for another 4-6 hours (presuming I dilate to 10cm in that time) and will most likely have to have a forceps delivery with likely internal tearing (ouch!) and an episiotomy (double ouch!). Even after all this I could find myself and baby in need of an emergency caesarean.

It is agreed between ourselves and the obstetrician that I have the caesarean as it appears that in the end it will be safer for baby and better for me. Within 30 minutes I am prepared and being wheeled down to theatre for the operation, and Michael has been whisked off to be dressed in scrubs so he can be with me for the delivery. Rather than an additional, or separate anaesthetic being administered for the operation my epidural gets a top-up, and I have now got a case of the shakes and shivers from all the drugs (and nerves). Once in the operating room, a blue sheet is erected in front of my face and I can’t see down to my tummy to watch the operation. I am relieved when Michael finally arrives by my side because with all the bright surgical lights, monitors, TV screens, operating theatre carry-on, and how fast everything was happening I am starting to feel a bit overwhelmed. My obstetrician asks me if I am ready for him to start, and when I reply with a “yes” he tells me that’s good; because he already has. I can’t feel anything so decide to focus on the TV screen to distract my nerves, which shows a small empty table with a green surgical sheet on it. I presume this is where they would put baby to check once he was out as was explained to us in the prenatal classes. I look up at Michael who is looking anywhere but over the blue sheet. Within a few minutes my obstetrician says the head is out and they are clearing baby’s air passages. The rest of baby’s body is pulled out and we are told that the umbilical cord is wrapped all around baby’s body. The blue sheet is now lowered enough so I can see the baby, but I can’t really see anything other than two little hands reaching high in the air, and now I hear a little cry. I look over to the TV screen and can see baby being placed on the green surgical sheet, but now one of the theatre staff is in my way and I can’t see anything, only hear baby bleat like a lamb. Michael is now allowed up to take some photos and has also been offered the cord to cut which he has done, and then he returns with a nurse who is holding baby wrapped up tightly in a blanket.

I can’t believe this is our baby, and it is a very strange feeling to just be told this is our baby as I can’t hold him yet. I get to give him a quick kiss on the cheek and look up for our first family photo before Michael is escorted out of the theatre with the baby to the nursery. I am stitched up and then wheeled off to the recovery room.

It is another hour before I am returned to my room and little Henry is finally placed in my arms. I thought when the moment came I would bawl my eyes out, but I am so out of it on morphine all I can do is stare at him in disbelief. Michael is also looking dazed by the experience. It has been a long, exhausting day for all three of us.

Henry, Tiff, and Michael would like to take a minute to pass on thanks to everyone for all the kind words and well wishes that have been flooding in in the last 36 hours. There will be plenty of postings to come in the coming days, weeks, months etc and Henry is looking forward to meeting you all soon.  

The weigh in. Henry just confirming his status in the heavyweight division. For anyone not familiar with the new fangled metric system, 4.08kg equates to roughly 9 pounds.... lucky.. lucky Tiff.

Here is our first meeting with young Henry. He is about 5 minutes old at this stage - just enough time to get cleaned and wrapped up for mum and dad.  

Counting down the days.... not long now ! 

Baby update - 41 weeks

I'm still pregnant! Little baby Hobson is still showing no signs of arriving. The last trip to the obstetrician revealed a head that still refuses to engage and a thick cervix showing no signs of thinning. I've still barely felt a contraction.

So what happens now? Well on Tuesday night (19 April) I will be checked into hospital and will start the initial stages of having labour induced. Hopefully by early to mid afternoon on Wednesday I'll be well on the way to getting little baby Hobson out and into the world. Only three more sleeps until parenthood.

Watch this space.

Baby update - 40 weeks

Little baby Hobson was due today, but does not appear to be in a hurry. Today was the first day any sort of contractions have been felt, but nothing significant. We feel it will happen this week, if not, the obstetrician has booked us an induction for 20 April.