Monday, March 07, 2005

Farewell My Friend, The Angels Are Calling....

Today, Monday 7th March, Myself, Michael and Ryan said a very sad farewell to a dear dear friend, John Follett.

John sadly passed away to make his journey to a better live on March 2nd, never getting the opportunity to meet our little son. He died just 4 days after Ryan was born.

We attended the funeral along with many, so many of John's family, friends and work colleagues over the years. I dont know how I managed to get through it. I was feeling sick with nerves and butterflies, wondering how I was going to say goodbye to a true gentleman.

The service went for about 1 1/2 hours. A touching tribute to a dear friend, reflecting on a life that was so full of love, life laughter and faith. It was so hard sitting there knowing that we weren't to see this wonderful man again, that he would never get to hold Ryan, officiate at Ryan's naming day (John, why couldn't you have hung on just a little longer old friend, I know that sounds selfish, but I didn't want you to go, it hurt too much).

Ryan was such a little angel through out the ceremony, he slept, while I openly wept at the loss of my friend, every now and then stealing glances at this precious little life alseep at my feet. It was a beautiful service, with John's casket being carried out the waiting chariot that was to deliver him onto the next life, through a guard of honour, made up of all his friends from the CFS, from the many districts in which John had volunteered.

Upon saying goodbye we placed handfuls of rose petals onto his casket. God I was beside myself. I kissed the casket but couldn't bring myself to say goodbye, just seeya later. We went and passed our condolences onto Rosalie and the girls before leaving to bring my new little life home for a feed and a sleep. We didn't need to say anything....

But the most special thing happened on the way home. We were parked out on the main road of the church and were about to pull off the kerb, when the hearse came out of the drive way next to us. Together we travelled the same road for about 3 kms, with John's casket in line with Ryan's car seat. Now some might find this morbid, but I took great strength in the thought, that it was John's way of looking after and over Ryan, the little boy he never got to meet. He was letting us know that he would always look over Ryan, his guardian angel.

Although I could not contain the tears, I felt so special that he had chosen to share some of his last few kilometres of his days on earth with us. The time come for us to part as we turned off, John went up and over the hill and out of sight, we waved his farewell but know he will never be far from us, as he will always be in our hearts.

Love you my special friend, and I know that you will always be looking out for our special little man, Ryan...

God Bless....

Saturday, March 05, 2005

The Story of Ryan Mitchell Michael



Well I am not sure where to start with the story of Ryan Mitchell Michael’s birth…but to say that Michael and I are now of the thinking that things did actually start happening around 3am on Friday 25th February 2005. So please grab a coffee and your comfy pj’s, this could take a while.

I woke with what felt like serious period pain, but mistakenly just thought these were BH’s, as I was expecting to experience something different to what I had. These pains continued on and off for about 3 hours. I got up showered, had brekkie and went off to my Ob’s appt at 9:15am. That appt only took about 15 mins, so I was back in the car by 9:30am. OUCH…here came that feeling again. It felt like it last forever, but was probably only 3 – 5 mins. I got to work around 10’ish and gave Michael a call just to let him know that all was fine and our now little Ryan was 2 – 3/5’s engaged.

I had only been at work about ¾’s hour when the cramps came back. No one would have know what was going in within, as I didn’t really give any outward signs of what might be happening, as again I thought it might have just been BH’s, due to the fact that Ryan wasn’t due for a little while longer yet. I got through the day with no more pain.

I left work Friday, at about 5:10pm, my last day, looking forward to starting M/L on Monday and hoping to get a few days to myself. I got about 10mins away from home when the cramping started again. I had to stop to put some mail in the box and had this strange sensation, (and sorry if this is TMI) that I had wet myself, but only slightly…mmmm…. I knew I didn’t need to go to the toilet. Now I was really beginning to think that something was happening. I rang Michael at work to tell him what I had just experienced…and when he said ‘What ? Your waters have broken’ apparently the whole office went quiet. I told him not to come home, as it wasn’t that bad.

I pottered around the house, thinking not much of what was happening within. Until we got to about 6:30pm and the cramping was becoming more constant. I had started timing ‘these cramps’. 20mins apart and lasting for about 1 ½ mins. Because I still wasn’t convince that what I was experiencing the real deal, I stopped timing them. And just tried to get through the pain.

We rang the W&CH’s and asked them what they thought. Yes, I was getting the waves of pain, but not where I thought I should they should be starting. I thought I it would be like a wave washing over my stomach and ab’s not just in the lower abdominal region, so I told the hospital ‘no’, there were no really strong waves of pain (god how stupid was I). ‘OK…well it sounds like things are on the move, is that what you think?’ I answered ‘I was pretty sure they were’. Well it could be a long night so try and get some sleep .

I wasn’t hungry, but knew I should probably try and eat, as I hadn’t eaten since about 1:45pm. Michael heated some baked beans and cooked me some toast. I think I ate about 4 mouthfuls, I just couldn’t stomach anything.

I can’t exactly remember what time the next wave of cramps (contraction came along), but it was getting on in the evening somewhere around 9:30pm. We started timing these ones again, just to see what was going on. Mmm, 3 mins apart and lasting about 2mins. This time the pain had seen me using positions and techniques we had learnt in Antenatal classes. Breathing (with a really good breathing coach besides me, getting me through every wave of pain), kneeling, walking around, back rubs. Although it got to the point that none of these methods were providing any relief.

My abdomen was cramping to the point that I could hardly stand up…. I found myself sitting on the toilet for about ¾’s of an hour. The only place I could get comfortable, well as comfortable as one could be, being in what we now knew was labour, as I had ‘the show’ , yes pinkish/reddish tinged. This was definitely the real deal. My little man was telling me from within that he was on his way. Another gush of fluid. Michael was really sweet the whole time. Telling me to breathe, and even going to find me a squeezy stress ball.

All I wanted to do was lay down and rest . I managed to somehow get back to the bedroom when another excruciating contraction came on again. I got down on my knees on a pillow, leaning against the bed with Michael rubbing my back. I didn’t even make it into bed. The only place I was really semi comfortable was sitting on the toilet. Michael had gone out into the kitchen to do something. It was now 10:30pm. I got up to try and get back and all of a sudden, OMG, it was like Niagara Falls, I could believe what was happening. I had never seen so much fluid. I called Michael back and he just stood there and could believe his eyes either. It felt like forever that everything was emptying from me.

I got back to the toilet, but it was providing no relief at all. Now Michael was running around packing my bags for me, and one for Ryan. Ok we are now at about 11:00pm, this is where I start getting a little hazy. Again we rang the hospital. This time after telling them that contractions were 3 mins apart and still lasting about 1 ½ - 2 mins they suggested I came in for an examination. Michael rang my Ob, Julie just to let her know what was happening. She said the hospital would call her when she was needed. I really didn’t want to go to the hospital to only be told to turn around and go home…. there was no way I could’ve handled it.

I don’t remember much of the car ride up there. Only that I was in the back seat with Michael refraining from driving like a mad lunatic. But he did well. He gave me the little stress ball to concentrate on while he timed the contractions. Still no let up, 3 mins apart and lasting 2 mins. We pulled up at Women’s assessment and as I was getting out the car I felt like I was flooding again. I was examined and told that I was to be admitted straight away, 12:50am, Saturday 26th February. Even though I was only 2 cm dilated the fact that the contractions weren’t letting up and giving me anytime in between to rest was enough for them.

Michael went and shifted the car, and bought my bags in while they did a trace on my belly and checked the baby. Everything was fine and how it should be and Ryan was ok too. We finally made our way up to the delivery suite. I had a choice of wheelchair or walking. I chose the wheelchair, but the midwife convinced me to walk.

I don’t remember even getting into the lift. I do remember walking into my room and seeing a face I had seen for 4 weeks during antenatal classes. As it turned out Kayley, who took our classes on Thursday night was my midwife for the evening. This immediately put me at rest a lot . A face I knew. We had no birthing plan, other than to just go with the flow, we went in very open minded.

We had every intention of having an upright and mobile labour and birth, but my body had other ideas. There was no way I could stand up. I tried leaning into the bed, but ended up on the floor, kneeling, with my arms on the bed for support. We tried this for about ½ hour no relief at all.

Kayley had always remembered me saying that I loved baths, so she drew me a bath. God, what an exercise it was getting in, in between contractions. It felt good initially , if not a little cold, so the bath temperature was warmed up for me. I seriously thought the bath would help ease the pain. But I was wrong. It wasn’t having the effect I had hoped for. God, was I ever going to find a comfortable position.

It wasn’t long until another midwife Jo came in to see how things were progressing, and saw how strong the contractions were and suggested maybe I should try the gas. At this stage I was willing to try anything. The gas seemed to work a treat . Suck it in real deep when contractions came on and the slowly breathe out as they eased. I remember this going on for hours, as the Kayley was doing 15 minutes ob’s on Ryan. I remember about an 1 ½ - 2 hours worth of obs.

Slowly the pain was becoming too much to bear, the gas wasn’t doing its thing. I remember being told I had suck a tank dry and they had to replace it. This was when the contractions where at their worst (as far as I was concerned). Ok, back onto the gas….suck, suck, suck. I was on the gas more that I wasn’t, which was indeed quite a trip. Kayley and Jo decided and sort of asked if I would like the gas turned up. We had turned the levels up as far as was possibly without causing any problems.

I had Michael and Al by my side the whole time, taking it in turns helping me with the gas and the drinks. Letting each other have a break, refuel themselves, take pit stops, whatever they needed to get each other through this long night. I think there were even a few phone calls in there.

I remember the sensation of water being poured over my back a few times, and this felt like bliss. It may not have eased the pain but still felt good. Keep in mind had been in the bath for about 5 hours. My feet had shrivelled something bad and where aching as much as the contractions hurt. Barrier cream was bought in and Al, and Kayley began to massage this into my feet, while Michael was up looking after me with sips of water and the gas.

It was decided to get me out the bath, as both Ryan and I were starting to cook and needed to be cooled down. Ok, so out of the bath. It was such an effort getting into the bath, but getting out of the bath was hell. Especially when you had been on gas for the last 5 hours and lost parts of the night to it.

I vaguely remember getting out the bath, with the support of Kayley, Michael and Al, to be told that there was a bean bag right in front of me and to try laying on my belly for a while so ob’s and an internal could be done. This bit I do remember. The beanbag right in front of me and me falling like a tree just having been lopped….TIMBEEER.

At 6am (and I can only go by Michael and Al’s recollections) an Internal done I was now 8cms. The contractions still weren’t letting up, just as they hadn’t at the start of the journey…. I remember hearing Al ask Megan (the change of shift midwife) if it were too late too introduced an epidural. It wasn’t. It was offered to me and I took it. I figured I had been brave enough. I think it took about ¾’s hour for the anaesthetist to come in. So from the beanbag I had to get onto the bed.

This must have been where I blacked out. I remember being told I had to get up onto the bed and prepped for the midwife, and this meant getting out of and up from the beanbag. I am sure I was like a rag doll. I don’t remember getting onto the bed. When I came to or the gas had finally left my system I remember asking was I on the bed, I don’t remember getting onto it. Once the anaesthetist came in it was time to insert the epidural. I was to sit so still, yeah right a preggo woman having contractions trying to sit still . You must be joking. But we got there. I was asked to be a still as I could while the needle was put in. I tried cutting a deal, I will try and sit still as long as you get that thing in as quick as you can. 7:00am (again from Michael and Al’s recollections) the best drug around was introduced to my body. It took about 20 mins for the effects to start working. But WOW when it did, it was heaven. No more pain . Somewhere in here I remember telling Al that I loved her. Poor Michael I don’t think I told him, that and was a bit concerned at how feral I might have gotten throughout the night.

My Ob, Julie was rung and informed that I was now 8cm dilated. I was entering the home stretch of this journey. She would be in around 11:00am. Those three hours were the easiest of the whole night . Although I could still feel the goings on within, I was in no pain. Poor Michael and Al were looking so tired, but then they had spent all night with me too. As I said they never left my side (not for long anyway). And for this I am truly grateful and loving .

I was so relaxed, that they both took it in turns to go and get breakfast while the other snoozed in the chair while I was alert and so with it I couldn’t believe it. I lay there with this little person within preparing to enter the world, watching my two partners snoozing contently after a long night, one in the chair and the other on the beanbag. Some stage soon after this I managed to doze off as well. My nap since I had gotten up at 7:00am the morning before. I couldn’t have dozed for long as watching the clock for 11:00am’ish seemed so far away. I could hear via the monitors when the contractions were approaching, and also could feel the tightening in my stomach, but still no pain. The epi was topped up 3 times, but it got me through.

Julie came in around 11:30, I remember saying that it seemed like only yesterday that we had seen each other. It was. I had an Ob’s appt the Friday morning. After a few more obs I was given the go ahead to start pushing. It was great. I knew when the push yet still felt no pain. I pushed for about an hour, as many as four humongous pushed per contraction, I felt like I had so much strength to keep going when Julie sort of said ‘Well you have been trying so hard for the last hour and I think it is time’…Myself, Michael and Al just all froze and looked at each other dreading the words we ‘thought’ we may hear, that Julie was going to say it is time for a C. Instead she said ‘I think we’re going to have to help this little man out’. I knew I was fine to keep going but Ryan was getting tired. So the forceps were introduced. The three of us gave a big sigh of relief. Forceps, yep we could do that, although it would mean being cut.

Cut done, forceps in use and with about another 2 big pushes, my little boys head had crowned . Another push and his head was out. I was told to stop pushing for a minute so he could turn naturally. This is where his daddy took over from Julie. Michael got himself ready to deliver his son into this world. Michael had hold of his head and shoulders. Ok one more push, and into Michael’s arms I delivered Ryan Mitchell Michael, our perfect little prince.

The look on Michael’s face was priceless. I am sitting here in tears recalling this part. I looked at Michael and just burst into tears, together we had bought this precious little gift into the world. I looked over at Al, she was looking at Michael and then turned to look at me, we just bawled our eyes out .

Michael then went on to cut the cord and place our son on my chest. God I can’t even remember what that felt like. But he was beautiful. A little bit beaten and bruised from the forceps, but still beautiful. I was asked what his name was. From October it was always going to be Ryan Mitchell Michael, until Michael starting giving a second thought to another name we had come up with, but I think deep down it was always going to be Ryan. I held him up to his Daddy and his Auntie Al and said ‘Well is he a Brock or a Ryan’. Didn’t have to wait long he was a Ryan. Our little prince now had a name for real.

Ryan looked/s very much like his daddy. Michael’s eyes and mouth. While he has my nose. He was so alert to everything around him, and you could just tell that he was trying to take so much in already. This brand new world, I can’t imagine what he must have been thinking. While I was getting stitch up and cleaned up Michael gave Ryan his first bath. Not that I could see it. But I am sure it must have been a wondrous moment for Michael. Just as this whole 9 month journey has been wondrous for all of us.

I can’t say this enough but I really wanted to thank my loving husband Michael for the support and strength he showed me over the last 9 months, and more importantly the last 24 hours (during labour) and also to Al for being there with me too …. I know you had a dress fitting sweetie, and the fact you weren’t going to leave our sides until the job was done, and you met your little Godson face to face, means more than I will ever be able to sum up with words.

Friday, March 04, 2005

One Life Begins Another One Ends....

Well today was my second day home from hospital after having given birth to my gorgeous little man, Ryan only 4 days ago.

Michael was at work as per the norm and I was glowing in the task of motherhood. Sharing 'my time' with my little man in the form of feeding time (morning tea) I was about to quietly read the paper. Nothing different there, always read the births and deaths. The phone rang and it was Mum, 'Have you read the paper yet?', 'No', as she new I always checked the births and deaths. 'I think you should look in the deaths' was all she said.

Mum stayed on the line while I flipped to the Memorium notices....scanning the names, and suddenly my heart sank and I just totally lost it, and I mean lost it. My dear dear friend John Follett had passed away on Wednesday, the day before I was due to come home, fours days after Ryan was born. I was devastated. I didn't even know he was sick (he had kept that from me), and he didn't even get the chance to meet Ryan, how could he....I was in a total state of shock, here I was feeding this new precious little life only to read that a life just a dear to me had ended.

Mum and Dad offered to come and sit with me for awhile, while I got my head around such tragic news. I wanted to ring Rosalie (John's Wife) but didn't know whether that would be appropriate or not. The last time we had spoken was at Christmas time, we always shared letters and card, although I sent them a text message the day after Ryan was born sharing with them the joyous news. Little did I know that John himself was in hospital facing the biggest battle of his life, to live.

I got the courage up to ring Rosalie, and was so glad I did, as was she that I had rung. God had just lost her husband, her soul mate, yet she was so strong. That is what a believe in faith does...
She told me John's story and how he was aware that I had given birth to Ryan and was so happy for us (although secretly knew they would never get the chance to meet). John had married Michael and I back on 20th September, 2003. All I could keep saying was OMG I am so sorry, and saying how much we loved both herself and John, all the while choking on my tears, but still Rosalie was strong.

The funeral was to be on the 7th March. I told Rosalie that the three of us were going to be there not matter what. Although with a new born she didn't expect it. There was no way I wasn't going to say goodbye to this kind and gentle soul. Who had been my rock many times over the years. I was my turn to be there for Rosalie and her family.

With life comes death, this is so true...heartbreaking but true.