A usual Friday night for us would consist of dinner in the city or going out for coffee, having drinks or a quiet night in. Not this week, we arrive home at 7pm and after a shitty week at the hospital we are exhausted. Our first born baby had been in our lives a few days now, this should have been a time filled with overflowing happiness and joy. The reality was quite the opposite, this was the most stressed, sleep deprived and devastated I'd felt in my life.
I'm beyond tired as I come into our bedroom. I see Ian laying in bed, his face covered withblanket that Oli had been sleeping on all day. As I climb into bed I hear him sobbing, my heart is breaking. We lay in bed facing each other and holding onto this little blanket. We bury our faces in it and breathe in Oli's scent, we cry together. I don't think I've cried this much in my life. My heart is literally aching. We drift off to sleep for a few hours before the usual four hourly wake up's which are becoming a bit too familiar. I hate this yellow pump, all I want is to be waking up to my baby. A few people say to me 'oh just wait till its a crying baby you won't be happy then'. Well actually yes I would be! And a big f you!
We rise early and head into the hospital. It's funny how familiar you become with the nurses and the ward. We feel a little excited when we see the nurse looking after Oli who is a real gem. She tells us that she is going to push the doctors to have Oli extubated thismorning. We are ecstatic! This will be the first time we get to hold him, see his eyes, hear him cry, see him move! Being in an induced coma he has been doing nothing..just laying still, we are overjoyed! Our nurse suggests we go downstairs for breakfast while Oli is extubated in case it doesn't go to pal, plus it's not the nicest procedure for parents to watch.
We sit in the hospital cafe where we can't wipe the smiles or our faces. We are giggling and joking as Ian orders the hospital grade bacon and eggs he has been eyeing off all week. We message our families spreading the good news. We get to hold Oli! We are so incredibly happy. My phone beeps as my mum sends a response through. I'm puzzled as I read the message '... That's great news! What happened with Ian's trailer?' Huh I think... What the heck? I'm confused but think ..no I won't say anything to Ian. His car and trailer had been parked on the street since Oli had been born. It must have been graffitied or trashed I think. My heart sinks, I don't want to tell Ian he will be devastated. He doesn't need to know, I'll protect him until this arvo and we can enjoy our first cuddle with Oli worry free. Obviously this wasn't meant to be. My phone starts ringing and it's my brother, he says to me 'where's Ian's trailer?' I question him, completely puzzled thinking he is joking. I say to Ian where's your trailer? He laughs and says 'on the back of my ute I hope!!!!' My stomach drops, oh fuck. I think his face reflects mine as he demands the phone. I pass it to him and watch as the colour from his face is drained in seconds, he looks down rubbing his eyes. He hangs up the phone and says '... It's gone, it's gone I'll never see it again' I start bawling my eyes out. How could his entire business be taken from us in a split second, all while we were going through the most traumatic experience of our lives! Tens of thousands of dollars worth of tools in that trailer! Tools we needed to finish our house! To this day I'm bitter and 100% fucking pissed off at the low life's who did that to Ian. I can only hope that karma comes around and bites them on the asses. I can't stop crying as Ian is weirdly cool as a cucumber. We throw our breakfasts in the bin, suddenly nauseated we hold hands tighter than ever as we head back to the sixth floor to our baby.
We tell our nurse what's happened and she is in shock. She sees me crying and quickly sits me down and gets Oli ready. My tears dry as I'm just too damn excited to think about something so negative in my first moments of contact with Oli. She passes him to me and I feel an overwhelming feeling of love for his little being. He is still so sleepy as his morphine wears off and he nestles into my arms. Ian stands behind me and we coo over how perfect he is. I look up and see our nurse watching us from the other side of the cot, she is crying. This makes me feel so blessed and lucky to have such a kind caring person there looking after oli and us. I could tell she truly loved her job. As I sit and stare into his face he wakes up, his little eyes peer up at me and it's as if he is suddenly aware of his surroundings. He stares at me, into my face...right into my soul! It's the strangest feeling, I can just tell he knows I'm his mum. He knows my voice, my smell, everything about me. It's at this point that I suddenly feel like a mother. Most women would feel that just after they give birth, due to my delayed contact with Oli I'm feeling it now. This feeling is what gives me the strength to deal with the next few days, weeks, months.
I hand Oli over to Ian who I can tell is also melting under his complete cuteness. Once again we are faced with this extreme happiness but then an overwhelming feeling of devastation. How could this be happening? Why do bad things happen to good people! I know it's cliche but I was feeling the 'why me, why us, why now, why ever!' feeling. I'm not a believer in religion, and while I respect people who do believe in god I find it extremely difficult to comprehend why a tiny baby has to suffer for god's bigger 'plans'. I'm still not at peace with the fact oli has cf or the amount he suffered when he was first born. In fact I find it quite offensive when people try to tell me that god has funny ways of teaching us things, how about you're baby be in this position and see how you like these 'plans'.
After we have cuddled Oli to the max (ha! impossible!) We leave the ward and are thrown back into reality, my parents take us out for lunch, we chat and find comfort in the fact that things are just that; things. People and family are the only thing that matter in life. Things can be replaced, family can't. All of Ian's tools have been stolen but something nobody could ever steal from us were the precious moments we had today with our baby.
Ian's tools being stolen were one of the hardest things we have had to deal with. That happening when everything was going on with Oli at the same time was borderline unbearable. But we got through it, mainly because of our amazing families. We are truly so lucky to have the most beautiful, caring brothers and sisters and parents. From housing us when we had no place to stay, to raising money for new tools, to holding Oli while I 'slept'(I'm looking at you nonna meg), to the constant messages, reassurance & support, to the help with our house, to the lunches, the coffees and the hugs. We will be forever grateful for our family, because at the end of the day...they are all that matter. We love them all unconditionally.