Is there every a happy ending

Happily there was, despite loosing such a precious gift, my other half survived and after much more heartache, medical intervention and councelling we went on to have a beautiful daughter who will be 1 in a couple of weeks and has just begin to crawl and walk aided....time to baby proof the house and lock up my instruments....

Having been through what we've been through I can only say that despite being almost middle-aged or nearing 20 depending on how you view your 40's and losing my job so near to the festive season amongst other things you are never to old to have children and enjoy life all over again....Yes, we'll never forget what has happened, all the heartache, pain, suffering etc but as one great philosopher once said..."What can't kill you, makes you stronger"

Gold fish and all that.....

And so we go on.....

OK so where were we...oh yes blood everywhere my daughter still born at 19 weeks and 1 day and my wife still pumping blood like a fire engine....Consultant's called and withing minutes he's assessed the situation and calling form a trauma team.....no b****Y anesthetist, surely there's more than one in the hospital...next thing we're running, nee sprinting to the nearest OR some two floors above us in another building...lifts corridors, lifts and stairs stand between us and saving the woman I love so much.......... 

We make it and then I'm shut out...sorry no family allowed in OR....four hours later in a scene from something like ER my wife is saved having had 8 yes eight pints of blood/saline put back into her....by this time I'm pulling what little hair I had out at the frustration of not knowing what was going on and living on a diet of hospital coffee and mars bars and I don't even like the darn things..... 

Sorry guys have to be more next time, painful.....

Things go wrong like buses, none for ages then two...

OK so our precious daughter as born and lost..........but the more pressing thing was that my wife was losing blood like nothing on earth and fading fast....something had to be done....

Hot stuff...

Read in the paper  a few days ago that 55 is the new start of middle age rather than 40....hey that means I'm still young!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

GONE BANG......

The consultant scanning, looked more serious than a judge passing the death sentence back in Victorian times....as you have probably gathered things were not good....my first daughters’ head had engaged and there was no foetal heartbeat, which basically meant that at 19 weeks and 1 day my daughter would be still-born....we played the waiting game and at 12:31 on that fateful Sunday in May, with me assisting my beautiful first daughter was born....tall, blonde and beautiful, so two out of three of her father’s attributes wasn’t bad.....The Doctor called her dead on delivery and left us to comfort each other with the midwife who at that moment became a friend and our daughters’ Godmother....Only there was a problem..........

Going pear-shaped

 So the dying strains of “Wish you were here” have long since faded and we’re back in the same cubicle in Rhesus as before...more tubes, monitors etc....but still the little one is holding on....up to the ward at 6am, sorry skipping over the medical bits but suffice to say that in my head I was playing “Comfortably Numb”....yes OK you’ve guessed it I’m a big Pink Floyd fan.....anyway back to the hospital....and yes, we’re even back in the same room as before on the ward, with the same staff.......

So the consultant isn’t due to start rounds until 09:00hrs on a Sunday so let’s try and get some sleep....oh no.....it’s gas & air all the way for the duration. Consultant must have been called because at 09:00 he’s in to see us and books a scan for 11:30 the same day as things have begun to stabilise......”Don’t panic......and no the answer is not 42”

Anyway it’s off to the scan room for yet another scan...you all know the drill by now....only this time it’s different.......................

Stop press

Spent last evening up at the local (same) hospital with the mouse as she’s got conjunct......sticky eye infection......in and out quickly but meant it was 01:00hrs before bed and guess who woke up at 04:30hrs.......

Even more wrongish.....

So I took the rest of the day off and we milled over everything we’d heard and learned that day....this is now scary and we’ve still got weeks to go.....Friday night and all is well, a few twinges and a little blood loss but nothing too much....Saturday arrives and it’s much the same, only today is Eurovision and we all know what that means....Yep a festival of xxxx ...................

So picture the scene my wife on the bed in some discomfort and I’m not talking about the TV...I’m ironing....yes men do iron....it was a case of having too as I was down to my last clean and ironed shirt.... head down, tail up....couldn’t even tell you who won or lost or whether we got nil points again....

Wife still in a lot of discomfort and getting more and more anxious as the evening progressed, the bags were packed for another night in hospital just in case....and thank goodness they were.....

Through bouts of bleeding and broken sleep, my wife had a very disturbed night...however....at 2am Sunday morning all hell broke loose....my wife is sat on the toilet in absolute hell, the pain was unbearable and there was nothing that could be done, the bleeding had intensified...Well I say nothing could be done....I dialled the emergency services and within 5 minutes the whole street was lit up by the Ambulance Service. Although didn’t know who needed the “Gas & Air” more my wife or the paramedic who just carried his entire car boot up to the loft and forgot the “Gas & Air”....So it’s more tests etc and off to hospital we go....only this time my wife in the back of an ambulance and I’m tearing down our road in front of them whilst they turn around...the joys of a cul-de-sac....

On go the lights, the neighbours curtains twitching, and we’re off....mile and a half in 2 minutes, I pulled over, and let the ambulance past and the rapid responder followed me, so there I am in the middle of a blue light fest.....my stereo cranked up to the top waking up the entire neighbourhood with sounds of Pink Floyd...the track of course had the immortal line “we’re just two lost souls swimming in a goldfish bowl!”

So dear readers, I’ll leave you with that thought but not “Wish you were here.....”

A little more wrongish

So it's home for bed rest, signed off work and wallop..the job my wife loves so much has to be sidelined...but at least it's for a good course....Even more scans, ultrasounds and now blood tests for both of us to determine various related factors, you see we both opposite blood groups which can cause problems for the woman...results to follow, but the medical team aren't taking any chances...more injections and tests....Week 13 passes, week 14 passes, week 15 passes, week 16 passes week 17 passes then crash, week 18 and the bleeding intensifies and it's back to the hospital for more tests, scans etc, in hospital for a few days then home then back in as bleeding intensifies...Friday week 18 and its off to see the special care baby unit as there consultants plans are to deliver at 24 weeks and pray..... By this point I'm beginning to feel very nervous, family live 200 miles away, and how do I share what's happening with friends...Beginning also to feel very marginalised by the hospital staff....fathers, I know will understand what I mean by "Third Class Citizen"...but hey I attend every appointment and stick my h'penny in for what it's worth.....Home on Friday after the SCBU and I took the rest of the day off.......

Going wrongish

OK so we left you with tyre smoke and a fifty yard dash in to the local A&E department...and the scene that greeted me was one that I didn't expect....monitors and tubes etc everywhere...I could go into the gory details but I'll leave the gore for horror writers.....but the good news was that the little one was hanging on in there.... Off for a scan just to confirm and then a couple of days in hospital just for safe keeping.....what brought this on, nobody knows, however my wife did bleed from about week six. Any parent knows the significance of that and what to expect, although it's no longer bed rest......

Anyhow back to the situation in hand...the scan showed that all was well and there was still fluid in the sack, although this now means weekly scans and constant monitoring until delivery.....Yes I can hear you thinking the same question that went through my mind and not for the first or last time.....

STOP PRESS

Daddy Day Care today, mummy's gone back to work for the day....little mouse is asleep.....

Going strongish

OK so do we keep going or give-up...Christmas is upon us, time to relax and have fun....but oh-no it@s back to the charts, OV kits...blue smiley faces.....and of course trying.....

Jackpot.....this is it, we're both relaxed, don't give up hope.....six week scan and all is well, eight week scan...going strong, ten week scan...still going.....then......

12 weeks up and ready for the big scan and woosh, waters break in local supermarket....get the call that I suppose all expectant fathers dread...."My waters have broken and I'm off to hospital, sob, sob, can you meet me there....." 

Drop everything and do 15 miles in 30 minutes, not bad considering it's all across country.....praying that all is well, two phones on the go, calling friends, loved-ones, family, anyone who would listen.....Scream into the A&E forecourt...wish I still had my Ford Capri,a s it was Bodie & Doyle eat yer heart out time..... Left car and ran into A&E.....more soon...!

Success..............may be short lived.......

OK back to my tale....so the op was a success and the charts and old wives tales etc proved their worth....a home run.....off to the hospital....early scan and ultrasound all seemed positive.....then...........wallop, blind-sided by a curved ball and the lights certainly did go out in the city...bleeding and then another mis-carriage....previously lost count, but hey life still goes on......somebody once said "only time will tell" and in the heat of the moment nothing is clear....but what the heck we were cutting it fine to have our wildest dreams......

Stop Press

At 17:00hrs today, the little mouse said her first understandable word and it was..........

"Dada"

The day it started.....

It was a cold and dark December...oops....sorry wrong story.... It was acturally Novemeber several years ago around that daft celebration of Guy Fawkes night....when my waife was in hopiatl for a major operation down below....turns out there we complications and both our clocks were running out of time, if you know what I mean..... We were in our local Hospital in a private room on a make-shift ward due to re-decoration, funny that, a lick of paint and an air freshener and it's job done.....but more of that later.....

All around us bloomin' fireworks were going off "ten a penny", more so when the lights go down in the city......

I'm going to gloss over the gore for the sensitive ones amonth you but suffice to say all went well and we could embark on letting everything work.....charts, temperatures, ov kits later and success.......

In the beginning.....

This is the story of a 40 something father, who has experienced the highs and lows of family-life...you may want to laugh, you may want to cry, you may want to do both but just remember that this is written from the heart......let me begin...... I have a 7 month old daughter who is completely and utterly adorable (no I'm not biased....or am I???!!!) but that is not the beginning of my tale.... I will take you though pain of operations, heartache of death and rejoicing at birth but above all I want you to share my small little piece of this land once called "Albion" and to where my heart shall always belong....so I shall begin!!!