Feeds are up. Mixtures of Tamsin's and Cow & Gate's milk every three hours. Staggered feeds meanz staggering mumz - Time Zero: Rosie Nappy Change, Time +30: Rosie Feed, Time +60: Holly Nappy Change, Time +90: Holly Feed. Leaves approximately an hour for Tamsin to do her own thing, which at the moment means expressing milk for later! So time your visits well...
We arrive in the neonatal unit Nursery 1 to find our children missing. Good news! They have been promoted to Nursery 3 - the Premier League of Special Care Nurseries. Now neither daughter is attached to a TV, both have apnoea alarms, and neither alarm is going off. Jim's paranoia immediately subsides. Now they are easy to pick up and/or photograph, although Holly refuses to let us take decent pictures.
[Holly]
[Holly]
AM. We arrive to find Rosie out of the incubator and in a cot, though still attached to a TV. Jim develops a protracted paranoia about Holly, who remains in an incubator, and whose respiration trace has a habit of flatlining with a remark next to it as follows: "Resp?"
Evening. Rosie is no longer attached to the TV. She just has an apnoea alarm. Jim's paranoia about Holly deepens until just before we leave for the night when she too is removed from her incubator and placed in a cot.
[Rosie]
Evening. Rosie is no longer attached to the TV. She just has an apnoea alarm. Jim's paranoia about Holly deepens until just before we leave for the night when she too is removed from her incubator and placed in a cot.
[Rosie]
Boxing Day. Both are feeding a little bit via the NG tube - Holly 1ml and Rosie 4ml!
Holly:
Rosie:
Holly:
Rosie:
Day One
Published Wednesday, December 26, 2001 by Jim Cromwell.
Christmas Day. H&R are now not needing oxygen. Both in incubators with nasogastric tubes for feeding, though feeding is currently via a drip. Both are wired up to big TVs that show heart rate and respiration. We can touch them! HOORAY!
Holly:
Rosie:
Holly:
Rosie:
Birth
Published Monday, December 24, 2001 by Jim Cromwell.
Copied from Jim's email to friends and family on the day:
8.30am
Joined Tamsin on the post/antenatal ward.
9.15am
Anti-embolism stockings. Lovely. Tamsin, not me.
10.00am
Went down to delivery suite. Sat about. Decorated room with inflated examination gloves.
11.00am
Into theatre. Tamsin prepped for spinal. Needle in Anaesthetist's hand. Knock on door - "We have an emeregency breech. She needs to be off the table now." Tamsin gets off the table and we return to our little room.
11.10am
Jim fashions crude antenna from foil pisspot. Shoves into back of telly.
11.10am-12.30pm
We watch Santa Claus The Movie. Bloody awful.
1.30pm
Back into theatre. Lots of people. Anaesthetist tells me I look like some bloke. "Who's that?" "He plays cricket for Australia." Well of course I knew that.
1.48pm
"Waah!" Hello Holly. Holly wrapped in tea towel and slung under a grill. Approximately 4.5lbs.
1.49pm
"Waah!" Hello Rosie. Rosie wrapped in tea towel and stuck under her own grill. Approximately 4.5lbs. Rosie expresses dissatisfaction by voiding bowels mid-procedure. If you don't like references to bowel movements you'd better get used to them. We got babies. That's all we're going to talk about.
2.00pm
Jim slung out while they suppositorise, catheterise and cross-stitch his wife. Goes for a sandwich.
2.30pm
Jim visits neonatal unit where twins are in incubators. Awww! Gorgeous! Notices "Rosie" is clean as a whistle and "Holly" is caked in baby poo. Hmm. They seem to have switched them. Chooses to overlook it. Say nothing, it won't be the last time... They are both breathing by themselves with next to no additional oxygen - 24% or something. One of those rugby-player nasal strips would have the same effect.
3.00pm
Can't find wife. Finds her hidden in paediatric recovery unit. Grown-up recovery full of all the emergency section mums who caused us to watch Santa Claus The Movie.
3.30pm
Jim goes back to special care to see twins. Still too soon to do anything unnatural and freakish like, you know, actually touch them, but can't get enough of counting fingers and comparing relative volumes of baby noses and tip of adult little finger. Spends rest of day wondering what to do and feeling too bewildered to answer any phone calls. Sorry!
8.30am
Joined Tamsin on the post/antenatal ward.
9.15am
Anti-embolism stockings. Lovely. Tamsin, not me.
10.00am
Went down to delivery suite. Sat about. Decorated room with inflated examination gloves.
11.00am
Into theatre. Tamsin prepped for spinal. Needle in Anaesthetist's hand. Knock on door - "We have an emeregency breech. She needs to be off the table now." Tamsin gets off the table and we return to our little room.
11.10am
Jim fashions crude antenna from foil pisspot. Shoves into back of telly.
11.10am-12.30pm
We watch Santa Claus The Movie. Bloody awful.
1.30pm
Back into theatre. Lots of people. Anaesthetist tells me I look like some bloke. "Who's that?" "He plays cricket for Australia." Well of course I knew that.
1.48pm
"Waah!" Hello Holly. Holly wrapped in tea towel and slung under a grill. Approximately 4.5lbs.
1.49pm
"Waah!" Hello Rosie. Rosie wrapped in tea towel and stuck under her own grill. Approximately 4.5lbs. Rosie expresses dissatisfaction by voiding bowels mid-procedure. If you don't like references to bowel movements you'd better get used to them. We got babies. That's all we're going to talk about.
2.00pm
Jim slung out while they suppositorise, catheterise and cross-stitch his wife. Goes for a sandwich.
2.30pm
Jim visits neonatal unit where twins are in incubators. Awww! Gorgeous! Notices "Rosie" is clean as a whistle and "Holly" is caked in baby poo. Hmm. They seem to have switched them. Chooses to overlook it. Say nothing, it won't be the last time... They are both breathing by themselves with next to no additional oxygen - 24% or something. One of those rugby-player nasal strips would have the same effect.
3.00pm
Can't find wife. Finds her hidden in paediatric recovery unit. Grown-up recovery full of all the emergency section mums who caused us to watch Santa Claus The Movie.
3.30pm
Jim goes back to special care to see twins. Still too soon to do anything unnatural and freakish like, you know, actually touch them, but can't get enough of counting fingers and comparing relative volumes of baby noses and tip of adult little finger. Spends rest of day wondering what to do and feeling too bewildered to answer any phone calls. Sorry!
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