Dad's diary.
The first entries of this diary were written on Monday 16th August, so the
first nine days of Joe's life are written from memory.
Diary - week two
Diary - week three
Diary - week four
The whole thing was all over quite quickly. On going to bed on Thursday evening there was no indication that the baby would be born the next morning. By 5.30am on Friday morning Deborah was obviously ready to rock n' roll. We were at the hospital shortly after 6am, and from then on it was full on. I had expected a long drawn out labour, but this was nothing like that: there was no time to think, let alone make myself a coffee.
There was lots of gore and mess around, so, being the squeamish type, I tried to gaze out of the window whilst my hand was clenched tight by Deborah.
In the end the little chap, whose heart beat was becoming a slight cause
for concern, was sucked out with the plunger (the venteuse (or Von
Touse as I like to call it)) (just like his father 37 years ago).
As there were so many people in the room, and lots of frantic activity going
on, and Deborah was screaming and the doctor muttering things like '..the
epidural isn't working..', there were occasional moments when I was just slightly
concerned, but then it all happened very quickly and there he was, this little
grey-purple human being with massive balls (they were the first thing I noticed),
and after a couple of minutes they said everything was OK and I think we both
had a little tear but not the gushing waterworks I expected.
Joseph (JJ?) spent most of the day recovering from this sudden entry into the world, such that he didn't feel like eating despite a number of efforts. After a couple of hours his breathing became less laboured and he turned a more normal colour, and it became clear that he is, in fact, a good looking little fellow, but there are fears that he has inherited my nose.
My first thoughts: he is safe, then: he is lovely, then: he is a son, and that's a massive responsibility.
In the afternoon - visitors, then mother and child off to Paulton Hospital for a few days recovery. I go home about 9pm, down 4 small bottles of lager, eat a chicken Mum had left in my fridge, then sleep.
The first full day of Joseph's life is a beauty and I manage to get out for a couple of hours later afternoon, to visit Jeff. On saturday I pick up Joseph, cuddle him, and he stops crying and falls asleep. So that makes me think that this fatherhood thing is a piece of cake. In actual fact he spends most of his first few days of life asleep, and it harder to keep him awake.
It's quite easy for me as I get to go home every evening for a good nights sleep. I try to do something each day - on the Sunday this is a swim at the Uni before going down to Paulton. Deborah has a few tears on Sunday, but her parents arrive in the afternoon and that cheers her up.
Joseph is now 'real' and I fall in love with him.
More of the same: I do a few things in the morning before going down to Paulton. On Monday I pop into work to finish off some work and to download the first photos off the camera. Later I feel emotional and a bit tired. Joseph won't get the hang of breastfeeding. Both sets of parents visit on monday afternoon It rains. I leave at 7pm and go home and have a very long sleep. Tuesday I feel much better: I swim before visiting. Jane, back from holiday, comes with Ben, Freya and Oliver which is lovely Later Stacey comes with her girls. Joseph is having some bottled milk and he needs something until he and Deborah get used to the breastfeeding caper. At 8.15, whilst Deborah has a bath, I have a beautiful 15 minutes with Joseph, when he is wake and I feel a real bond with the little chap.
Deborah is starting to feel more confident about the feeding: in the last 24 hours Joe has started to latch on properly and get some decent feeds. After a few early days with little bowel action, he has started to dump properly, and I find myself interested in his poo - colour, texture, volume. I've also found the nappy changing thing much easier than expected. I even find that I quite enjoy it. I've bathed Joseph a couple of times, but not on my own yet (once with a midwife, once with Mum). I feel a bit cack handed doing it, but I shall learn.
After lunch we pack up and come home. I do no exercise, and that makes me feel a little edgy. I realise I will have to try to find time to do a little something each day.
Joseph gets his first view of cricket as the test match starts on Thursday: when sitting around with him it's good to have something on in the background. Let's be honest you could go stir crazy otherwise, and it throws it down all day Thursday so there is no chance to go outside. I do get to go for a swim in the afternoon. Joseph really gives his bowels a good rip: three huge poos in a couple of hours, so I get nappy changing practice. The midwife calls and I have to describe the character of his bowel movements. He is eating more regularly and for longer now.
On Friday the test match is rained off but the Olympics are starting. We go out for the first time with the new buggy, just down to the High Street. Of course it rains. Debs mum and dad leave for Devon; my mum and dad visit with (Great) Auntie Janet.
The Vampire Circus Friday night/ saturday morning is the first time that my sleep has been disturbed by Joseph. I have been lucky in that Deborah looks after him at night whilst I sleep. This night he won't settle and is crying. At 12.30 I take him off Deborah so that she can get some sleep, and we go downstairs and watch a hammer horror film, The Vampire Circus. I haven't stayed up watching late-night horror films since I was a teenager. I quite enjoy it. We need to starting training Joseph to sleep at night. Never mind 'right and wrong', he needs to learn the difference between 'night and day' first.
On saturday we have a belter of a day so can go into the garden. Paul turns up around 4pm, giving me an excuse to have a couple of beers.
To be honest there are times when I find the whole thing a little boring. Deborah always said that there'd be times when I'd find it boring and frustrating. On occasions on saturday I feel I'm going a little stir crazy, I'm so desperate for something to do that is start painting old bits of baton and rough cut wood in the garden, thinking maybe I will make a garden 'sculpture'. In the evening I go out for a walk up to the pond behind Broadmoor Lane. It is a beautiful evening. I decide that I have to feel that each day I have 'done something', and it is best to do this early, then I can concentrate on looking after Deb and Joe afterwards. Of course it won't be long before I have to return to work and these lazy days will take on a utopian, dreamlike quality.
I spend a lot of time with Joe on Sunday after a long swim at the Uni. Deborah has a long sleep, so I sit with Joe and watch cricket and read the papers awkwardly, or potter round the garden, leaving Joe in his chair. Later I try him in a sling - too uncomfortable and I can't see his face so we ditch it - and take him for a walk in the buggy around the local streets.