Showing posts with label Infant. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Infant. Show all posts

Tuesday, 2 February 2016

12 weeks old...


Since DD2 has been born we have had three months of family visits.  Some have been fun and happy, others not so.  In the UK, if you have a baby, your friends and family are acutely aware of your exhaustion.  If they stop by, it isn’t for too long.  Traditionally, they will bring food and help with the house - or at least this is my experience of friends and family growing their brood in the UK.  But this doesn’t appear to the case when you are an expat.

Other expats understand the rules of engagement, but your family will insist on coming over for a holiday two weeks after you have given birth.  I get that they want to see the new arrival, but to say that they are coming on a holiday..?

I had a C-section but ended up driving after two weeks and walking people around town.  Considering that I was back to work after 6 weeks, it has been non stop and people just don’t consider the fact that any birth takes time to get over.  I wanted to spend time just the four of us.  I wanted time to bond with my DD2 and get my family back in a routine.  I was paranoid about ensuring DD1 wasn’t greatly affected by the birth, or if your baby is ill - as DD2 was - I would have given my right arm for the opportunity take a breathe and recoup.  At the risk of ranting (and now I am on a roll so I will), I wasn’t really able to do any of this.

Oddly, following the birth, I wanted to be able to breast feed which I didn’t expect.  I have always had an aversion to breast-feeding (BF), yet I did want to BF for the first few days.  I attended BF classes as DD2 is slightly tongue-tied and it was obscenely painful at first.  When it worked though, it was a great experience.  Sadly, it wasn’t meant to be.  I am still very resentful of the fact that I was unable to because I had to go off and decamp into my bedroom to do so.  Believe me, I know how this is sounding - this doesn’t sound like such a chore to those who haven’t breast fed, but considering it takes about an hour and a half to feed and burp, you then have a 90 minute window before you have to do it again, 24 hours a day, 7 days a week for the first couple of months, it is actually a major upset if you can’t be comfortable and do it where you want, when you want.  My quest to BF was hampered further by the fact our visitors wanted to be with us continuously so I ended up taking them out virtually every day.  Keep in mind that we live in a country which is incredibly modest and breastfeeding in public is uncomfortable for all, being out and about is a way to kill it off very simply.  Something had to give - it was breastfeeding.  I have written this very simplistically.  It was not an easy choice, but expressing takes forever and who wants a 20-year-old nephew or your father-in-law watching that?  Not being able to do it in my environment of choice, and my being a tour guide when all I wanted was to be at home on my own with my little family left me feeling very claustrophobic, and created a lot of resentment.

The hardest thing though was undoubtedly dealing with the hormones.  Personally speaking, because I spent the whole of my 6-week maternity leave biting my tongue and refraining to tell people what I thought.  I believed I had kept my hormones under control.  I didn’t want to appear to have lost my mind or be unfairly judged.  The main problem with this is that, coupled with sleep deprivation and a house full of people waiting to pounce and tell you are being ridiculous, is that it creates a huge divide between you and you husband.  In fact, with mine, I was unable to keep my emotions in check.  He is the closest person to me and the one I took all of my frustrations out on.  Regardless of how much we tried to hide them, both our moods were evident, so the judging and family gossip started… Fun!

Three months on, we have mastered the family rhythm.  We are still entertaining people continuously, but I am not feeling psychotic continuously with hormones (just 30% of the time).  Finally I am getting to the place where it is OK to tell people “No.”  Even going back to work before all the visitors had left (we didn’t have one day in the whole of my maternity leave where we didn’t have people staying), has been a breath of fresh air – despite how much I was dreading it.  I am very lucky though to be able to work from home as that is very far from the norm out here.

The one thing I have learnt from giving birth is that regardless of what anyone tells you or expects from you, be selfish.  If you give in for a quiet life (as I did), the repercussions on your family are just too big, and I learnt this the hard way.  My husband and children come first, so now I am vocal and do whatever it is that is right for them.  Others may not understand, but really, that is their problem and not mine to worry about.  Why should I put myself through the mental torment that will, in turn, affect my family if I don’t have to?

Friday, 22 January 2016

Keep Your Babies Safe


St Johns Ambulance in the UK has produced a video that every parent should watch.  I can say this with great authority as our neighbour saved the life of my daughter who was one week old at the time because I had no idea what to do.



The video shows what you should do should you baby ever stop breathing.  It is incredibly normal for babies to stop breathing and most of the time, there isn't a need to worry too much as their caveman instinct kicks in and they restart themselves after a millisecond.  Sadly, DD2 didn't.  Within 10 hours from when we were discharged from hospital we found this out to our cost.  At 24 hours we were back in hospital again where we would stay for another 5 days.  

It all started when we had friends over to meet DD2 Ian left the room to get the speaker dock for music when DD1 stopped breathing for the first time.  I grabbed her and had no idea what to do and just screamed for Ian.  Luckily, because he is still a coach with Arsenal football club's soccer school in Dubai, they had made sure he had attended a first aid course.  He has had to use this knowledge before, but never on a five-day-old baby...



DD2 and myself
Ian plucked her from my hands, flipped her over onto her belly and firmly hit her back.  Her breathing kicked in instantly and you wouldn't have guessed that anything had happened to her - Unless you looked at us.  Then you could easily tell as I was shaking desperately trying not to cry, Ian was full of adrenaline, his eyes wide like saucers and my mother and our friends were just stood there mutely staring in shock.



That night, as you can probably imagine, neither Ian nor myself slept at all.  We spent the whole night listening to her breathing.  Ian was berating himself for not having had follow up training for what to do with an infant.  I was berating myself for plainly not having a clue about what to do.  All night long (and for weeks after), whenever she fell into a deep sleep and I couldn't hear or see her breath, I would nudge her to check she was still alive.  Ian went to work that following morning looking like a zombie, but at least I knew what to do should anything happened right..?  How wrong could I have been?



A couple of hours after Ian left, my mother (who had been watching the girls whilst I had a bath), started screaming and ran into the bathroom, "She's not breathing!"



This time was different.  DD2 was trying to breathe and couldn't.  She was awake, struggling for breath, looking scared.  I did exactly what Ian did.  I flipped her onto her back and started to hit her back to get her to breathe.  I then told mum to phone an ambulance and run out into the road and scream for help.



This time, this action made no difference.  DD2 had gone from her pale translucent skin tone to turning bright red and was quickly turning purple.  It felt like minutes had passed since she had last breathed.  When her lips began to turn blue, the calm collected feeling me left and a muted panic set in. I turned her upside down holding her legs, body and head, along my arm and in my hand, firmly hitting her back.  She began to choke, and started producing amniotic fluid from her mouth and nose that I kept pulling out.  It is bizarre, but when you go through an experience like this, everything slows down.  You have more time to think about your actions and the consequences - Like being aware of not hitting her too hard and ensuring her head is supported through everything because you don't want to damage her brain.  It is a weird calm that I can only describe is like a fire blanket to the panic, suppressing your panic to enable you act clearly so that only the best outcome is obtainable.  I even had time to weigh up whether or not to shake her (I didn't). It felt like she hadn't breathed for about 10 minutes by this point - I later found out that this was unlikely as by 10 minutes she would have been brain dead - which she wasn't.  Realistically it was about 4 minutes...



My mother at this point, was screaming out in the road, running around in bare feet over gravel and only her dressing gown.  She ran to next door where our neighbour was home. Our fabulous neighbour ran into the bedroom, plucked her out of my hand and began CPR.  the poor bloke had learnt CPR literally just two weeks before.  Like everyone who learns CPR, you never expect to have to use it.  You never ever expect to have to use it on a baby who is under a week old!  He got her breathing again just before the ambulance arrived to take us to hospital.


Maybe, had I have seen this before; I would have been able to have acted quicker.


This is a must see for all parents.  As St John's Ambulance say, "Remember the song, in case things go wrong."