Once, Twice, Three times a hospital visitor...

So it's been an interesting week in regards to visiting St. Johns Hospital...
I injured myself at work on Monday morning and so spent most of the day in A&E! Six stitches in my face, a great big plaster and a stoater of a black eye which has developed over the week, and hopefully I'll not be left with a scar, or be a "Gangster Daddy" as Catherine put it!
Ironic that my T-Shirt says casualty!!

Thursday was Dads2b class. We got to meet an "appropriate baby", as Andie put it. Appropriate being more than 24 hours old and healthy. So we head up to the maternity ward to meet Baby Emily, a 9lb 13oz bundle of cuteness!! Cue an overwhelming look of fear and panic amongst myself and the other guys when the reality hits home that this will be us in a few short months/weeks/days (for some!)
Andie proceeded to show us how to bathe and dress her properly, supporting her head etc... It turns out that Baby Emily wasn't a fan of bath time! The poor wee thing started crying as soon as the water touched her (although the crying could also have been a result of the meconium filled nappy we were about to encounter.)

Wow, that was not pretty! Babies are supposed to be all cute and wrinkly and smell of talcum powder, not produce something that resembles Hexxus from Fern Gully (awesome movie from my childhood!)
Yuck! I'm glad that shit doesn't last too long (excuse the pun.)
We also covered crying. "What makes babies cry?!" Everything apparently! Hungry, tired, too hot, too cold, not being paid enough attention, being handed around like a game of pass the parcel... And a hundred other things. Andie played a DVD of a baby crying, we lasted all of 1 minute and 23 seconds before we were all on edge begging for it to stop! It was really loud though...

My third and final visit to Hospital came on Friday night. Caroline was doing a bit of nesting (!) and baking some cakes for Clare and her mum coming round on Saturday. We sat down around 10.30pm when Caz tells me that she's not sure she's been aware of baby moving for a good 8 hours. Pregnancy is only 24 weeks but baby has a routine already. 
I gave her a freezing cold drink to see if that would wake baby up, but that didn't work so after a bit of fretting I phoned the Labour Suite. The midwife said that Caroline should try a cold fizzy drink to see if that worked then phone back. 
She thought she maybe felt one or two bumps, but nowhere near as regular and pronounced as they had been in previous weeks. Long story short, eventually Marie and me persuaded her that neither of us would settle until we knew for sure so off to St. John's we went at 11.30pm. 
A midwifery sister named Fiona greeted us and took us into a room. As baby was only 24 weeks all she could do was listen in for a heartbeat. That's  all we needed to hear. That alone would be enough to provide relief. And there it was, thumping away around 145bpm! Fiona said that anytime we were unsure she'd rather we went to get checked out than leave it. I don't think I've ever seen Caroline look so relieved. 
That swiftly changed when the loudest, most feral scream either of us has ever heard came from down the hall!! Ah Labour Suite, you giveth and then you taketh away! Caroline had just commented on how nice the room looked and then you destroyed it! Clearly your rooms aren't as soundproof as you would have us believe!

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