A Fathers story: Nicu survivor, prematurity, loss, and covid

28th May: This was a day filled with mixed emotions, good and bad.  Mum went in to visit today, I know this as this is when she got to do something she had only dreamed of doing, and I for that matter, but we will get to that part soon. So as the day goes, a usual visit as planed expecting this to be the day we finaly get the boy sorted, well we was wrong. The scheduled pda oppreation for today was canceled for the hundredth time, tbh I had lost count with how many times it was scheduled and then cancelled. You guessed it right, another infection ! Insert pic (I don't even think I need to say how powerful this picture is, it speaks for itself.) Hearing frances tell me over the phone that it wasn't happening, was out of this world frustrating.  All we wanted was for this surgery to take place so he could recover and progress. I felt like I was letting my son down, I don't know why I felt like that but I did. Should I have asked more questions, should I have made

P.s my proof reader has got a new job, (selfish I know lol) so what you're reading from now on is my poor attempt at literature and grammar. 23rd May: This is where it gets a bit tricky in terms of remembering who visited Oliver on cirtain days. This is because somedays I would be in then frances would be in, sometimes 2-3 days in a row if I was working. So I'm just going to write it from how I felt/reacted to the news and events that unfold. Anyway on the 23rd May, we got word that Oliver's right lung had collapsed. I'm sure I don't need to explain how bad and frightening this was. This is something that had happend to him before, but with recent events, such as infections and water retention ect outlined in my last blog, this was more serious. Not to mention he was also on the highest oxygen levels and the high frequency ventilator still. (Also another blood transfusion) Insert pic Round in circles.......  Still on the 23rd of May we also g

This is a digression that I didn't intent to write; I just felt I needed to. It's been 8 months since my son passed, and in them 8 months it's been a hell of a ride. (As you will soon read in upcoming posts) It's the 15th of May 2021, just lying here in bed, and at the moment my life is stable to a degree, not perfect or how I imagined it, but it's good. Then all of a sudden, out of no where this wave of guilt, panic and anxiety just passes over me, and I felt the need to look at pictures of Oliver. This always ends in one of 2 ways, one I cheer myself up, or two I make myself feel worse untill I fall asleep. Tonight tho I just feel I need to type, so here I am. I'm not overly sad; neither am I joyful. I should be as I have a fantastic daughter and many other things going good for me now, but it's hard to always see the positive. The ball in the box is a fantastic way to describe things at the moment, and for me, tonight it's hit. Everything

19th may: After a long and gruelling wait, the time finally came and we got the news that Oliver was booked in and ready to go for his pda operation. At this point, the date still needed to be confirmed, but he was booked in and a bed had his name on it.  Unfortunately, it was hard to get excited as we had already been told time and time again he wasn’t going to go. Furthermore, it’s hard to get excited about your child having an operation. As much as we wanted to get this done for his sake, the thoughts and panic soon overtake your mind.  We received this vcreate image with the following message. After visiting Oliver, and still no specific time or day given as to when he would be leaving, I just sat with him talking about life really. The good news is that he was free of infection, and he was also carrying less water retention. Speaking with the nurses they were hopeful that he would be going very, very soon.  After leaving that day feeling happy Oliver was doing well and things seem

11th May: The day was a nice day and being in the middle of May the weather was sunny; there were still days of drizzle, but not on this day. Similar to all the days before, I left Frances waiting in the car and walked into the hospital. Scrubbing up and walking next to the incubator, I couldn't believe what I was seeing. I thought to myself, “I must be at the wrong incubator, they must have moved my son to another place”, the baby in the incubator looked nothing like my son. To my surprise it was my son, but he was so fat and filled out… Michelin baby came to mind. I spoke to the nurse because I didn't know what was wrong or what was happening. A few thoughts went through mind, “could it be his infection, I thought it was gone now?”. It turns out that he was in fact still fighting his infection, although it was minor, it still slowed his progress. He was due to come off the antibiotics in the next day or so. The reason he looked like Michelin baby was due to major

1st May: I can't remember who went to see Oliver this day, but I can speak for the both of us when I say we were disheartened. The next thing to overcome was getting his pda duct sorted, and without getting this sorted, he was at a sort of standstill. As stated in my previous blog post, he was scheduled to go on the 1st of May for the surgery. Oliver was booked into London st Thomas's Eveliena, but unfortunately, they didn't have any space for him at this time. It's an unusual feeling, holding onto the hope that a space would become available, all the while just sitting and waiting with him for something to go wrong. Because that's what you are doing really, you know you're not going to get the news “you can go home tomorrow”. So, what do you do? You sit there waiting for them to tell you something else has gone wrong. A few days later on the 3rd of May, he was booked in to go and have his pda duct surgery. Apprehensive and scared, we awaited the phone call to s