I hate hospitals.

I hate hospitals.

Ironic, seeing as I am a nurse. What I hate even more however, is my child being ill. 

We have been extremely blessed so far with Lizzie. The most ill I have ever seen her is when she had a chest infection and could barely keep anything down. I was worried sick. But it could have been so much worse.

The day Sam had to go to the children's hospital however has been one of the worst of my life so far. It turned out he had Bronchiolitis -which in neonates is potentially life threatening. You know it's something serious if you get seen straight away in A+E and get taken directly through. As soon as the nurse took us into resus I was starting to panic. They attached him to monitors, took his blood and cannulated him (which took about 40 mins of holding him down screaming.) He was surrounded by doctors and I was crying. Ryan bought Lizzie through and she started crying too. I told him to take her out, it was the last thing I wanted her to see. All sorts of things go through your mind. Was this it? 

About an hour later they had established he only had mild bronchiolitis. Relieved is not the word. But he still had to stay in hospital, for what turned out to be 5 days. Ugh.

Bless him. Samuel, the baby who absolutely screams when you change his nappy continued to be traumatised that day. He had to have oxygen so they put on nasal cannulae, complete with teddy stickers.

Yes, he cried. And cried. I think he got a name for himself amongst the nurses, as one morning I found him with this sticker on his babygrow:

Sarcasm, methinks!

And then there was this. The dreaded sats monitor. It beeped day and night. The silencer gave you 90 seconds to get a catnap before it went off again. The first night I stayed up all night just continually pressing the silence button so my hubby and baby could get some sleep. I am glad to be rid. Oh yes.

It has a been a tough year so far. Job problems, financial worries, new baby with insomnia, and hospital visits. But I would be totally ungrateful not to recognise just how blessed we are. We have 2 beautiful, healthy children. And are very happily married. We have very supportive family and friends who helped us get through everything. And I am fully aware that Samuel was the most well child on the ward. There were some very poorly kids there, who barely ever see home.

We are blessed. Who couldn't appreciate these two cuties?

Yes, I know I'm a mean mummy, but I couldn't resist :)

The 3 faces of Samuel.

Since Samuel arrived, our household has been filled with dirty nappies, half-empty milk bottles and mountains of washing. I don't know about anyone else, but I hate the first few weeks of having a baby. Don't get me wrong, I love the snuggling, the newly washed smell of the little bundle of joy. But I cannot admit to liking the 3 hourly wake-up calls and screamathons. 

It seems Samuel has 3 faces.

Number 1: The 'how very dare you' scream. We see this face a lot. How DARE you change my nappy! How DARE you make me wait 15 minutes for my feed. Parents, eh? Who would have them.

Number 2: Feeeed me! (Usually followed by the scream face.)

Number 3: Ahhhh, sleeep (mummies favourite.) I have a fetish for listening to newborn babies snore. It makes me feel all warm inside. My problem is, this face does not last long enough for my liking.

Sam has also accumulated several nicknames. Piglet (owing to his recent cold, he grunts a lot!); fattie (prior to his cold he was taking a whopping 4 ounces every 3 hours!) And lastly, bigfoot;

Just imagine these lovelies kicking you in the ribs every night!

Samuel.

I can finally announce that I have indeed had that baby.

Seeing as Samuel came a week 'early,' we felt like we had been waiting forever for him to arrive. Once I hit 37 weeks I said to myself 'Any time now!.' Er...no. Bad mistake. Did not help that my mum kept going on about when he was going to come. My advice to future mothers, is don't dwell on arrival time and distract yourself with something else or you will go INSANE! I was reading up on natural ways to induce labour. We tried the lot. Every twinge and I was wondering if this was it.

Well, I have my own labour-inducing tip now. Orange Wednesdays and a humungous bag of pick n mix. Yup, that's what we were up to the night I went into labour. We went to see Django (very good film by the way.) 

We turned the lights out after getting back and I couldn't settle off to sleep. I was tossing and turning, and about midnight I felt that sudden gush of warm fluid between my legs. Your first thought is 'Pants I've actually wet myself.' Followed by the terrifying realisation what it actually is. I kind of felt like a kid on christmas morning. Coupled with the fear of impending agony/doom. 

So off to the hospital we headed to be examined, as advised by the triage staff. Followed by a trip back home to 'wait for things to start.' Now I was not too happy to go back home, as I could already feel things getting going down there. I told the midwife that in my family the second baby is quick. She replied it might not be the case with me. Fair enough.

On arriving back home Ryan got me my hot water bottle and we settled down under the covers for a night of    pain. Half an hour later, Ryan was snoring and I was biting the bed covers so as not to cry out. They were coming every 5-10 minutes. I was sure these contraction were stronger and more painful than with Lizzie; at least in the early stages. I managed a whole hour before having to wake up my snoring husband and beg him to take me to hospital. At least in the middle of a contraction I begged him, then afterwards worried I was being a wuss. Then I had an exceedingly painful one and I decided I was indeed going back in. How I managed to walk from the car park to the triage unit I am not sure. I hung on to the walls, wheelchairs, anything available to help me through the pains.

Once we got there I was more or less contracting constantly. Once I had finally got into the labour suite I had started to cry out..yes, like those mothers you see on OBEM (so ashamed!) They examined me -6cm. SIX??!! I was upset to say the least. 4cm left. Could I manage it? I was talking all methods of pain relief when they got me on the bed. Gas and air, pethidine, even epidural -which I was SO determined to prove I was too much of an awesome, amazing super-mum to have. Once they handed me the gas and air however, after a few breaths I was floating. Floating in agony yes, but floating. Amongst the clouds. I told the midwife this was good stuff. 

Within an hour though the contractions had got that step further and once again I was climbing the walls. I felt the need to push, although the midwife said there was still cervix in the way. She told me to pant through the urge to push, but within 15 minutes she changed her mind.

Every woman who had undergone labour will know this part is now the exciting part. Although the stingy bit to push the head out (ugh) is agony. But you know your baby is nearly here. About 20 minutes of pushing and our wonderful baby boy was born, at 05:54, weighing 9lb.

Having more than one child has made us realise we had it easy with just Lizzie. The sleepness nights are followed by a little alarm clock at 8am. Just when your baby who has screamed the majority of the night is just settling off to a peaceful slumber. But I would not have it any differently. Our two sprogs mean the world  to us. Having said that, I cannot wait to wean this little one onto solids!!