Oliver Miles Alway Taylor: The First Week
08:44AM — Wednesday, November 21, 2012. Reading time ~5.388888888888889min.
This is a collection of Day One posts that chronicle the first week of my sons life. I was concerned that they would be lost if they remained locked in a proprietary app. So I compiled them here.
Monday, September 10, 2012.
In scrubs and ready to go; I had to wait half an hour, but when I went in, it all happened.
The spinal block was already in. I sat down next to Jane and reality finally sunk in.
Oliver was born within what felt like 5 minutes. It was 12.31pm. I went over to the heat table with the midwife while she cleaned all the white shit (vernix) off him. She got me to dress him; which I did well, I think.
We then took him over to Jane’s chest. He stayed there for a while, before being weighed and measured—3.32kg (7.31lb).
I then took him out to the midwife’s office. Mum, Dad and Les were there. Dad had a bit of a cold so he didn’t have a hold, but the grandmas did.
We took him into recovery to see Jane and to do skin to skin. This worked well and he even took some boob pretty easily. The midwife was amazing and helpful.
They gave Jane OxyContin, which made her sick. But it passed pretty quickly.
He had another feed once we got upstairs and then went back to sleep for about 5 hours. As much as I wanted him to be awake and ‘do stuff’, it was nice to ease into it with a not-at-all stressful afternoon.
I got into the hospital at about 10.15am; I wanted to skip peak hour and get a bit of extra sleep.
Jane attempted to have a sleep while I edited the photos from the first day.
In the arvo, another amazing midwife helped me give him his first bath. It was pretty cool. Until that point I hadn’t really held him without his clothes on; he was so incredibly soft.
Jane also got out of bed for the first time after her cesarean. I helped her have a shower.
It seemed like the afternoon went quite quickly; there was lots of things to do.
A Couple of Rough Nights
We came home on Friday. Everything was great at the hospital with Ollie, but Jane was pissed because they kept missing her meds and not answering the buzzer.
Our obstetrician was fine for her to go home a day early, so we did.
We left the hospital at 6.30pm to skip some of the peak hour traffic. Everyone told me I’d be scared shitless of driving with him in the car. I was actually fine; reverse psychology maybe.
The first night home was the first prick of a night. We both went to bed at about 12.30am; I passed out instantly. Jane woke me up at 2.30am and he hadn’t slept at all. Jane slept less than I did, but we essentially swapped every two hours until he finally fell asleep on my chest at about 5.30am. I was listening to Hypercritical to keep me awake; so maybe John Siracusa’s dulcet tones finally put him to sleep.
Realising I was going to be nursing him many, many times with nothing to do, I subscribed to heaps more podcasts. Late night TV drives me crazy.
We had a few theories as to why he didn’t sleep: Jane eating onion; probably not. No fucking reason; probably not. We settled on the theory that Jane’s milk had come in properly, and he just wasn’t used to having more that a few millilitres of colostrum.
Saturday Night Was Great
Jane got up to feed him once. But he essentially had a four and a six hour block of sleep. Killer.
Sunday Night Was All Over the Shop Again
We went to bed at 11ish and again, I passed out straight away. Jane woke me at 12.30am in a bit of a state. He hadn’t slept again. The same problem as Friday; every time we lay him down he cried. And like Friday, it was pretty uncontrolled too. You’d hold him and he’d be perfectly peaceful, then bang, screaming in pain.
Eventually he fell asleep on my chest again, so I sent Jane to bed. Half an hour later (about 3am) I tried to put him down. As soon as I got into bed and comfortable, he cried.
Changed and swaddled, I took him back out to the couch and he slept on my chest till 4.30am. I must have fallen asleep for the last half hour too.
I took him to the bedroom and attempted to put him down, but he cried. It was designated feed time anyway, so Jane got up to feed and settle him, then all three of us slept till 11am. A good, solid block of time. But I tell you what, I was still fucking tired.
Sunday was also our dog Lily’s first night home. It all went really well. She was a bit baffled by the crying but was a good girl. Can only imagine what it’ll be like when she hasn’t had enough exercise and Ollie has another night like that. Time will tell.