Day 5

Plenty of action on day 5.

First, some cuddles with dad (sooo good), off CPAP again.

Some attentionate people to look after me

Free tanning session (note the fancy shades!). My skin tone was getting too yellowy for some.

A taste of real food. This is so much better.

And a peaceful sleep to finish it all. Awesome

Day 4

Good progress on day 4. Off CPAP for a while (the air pressure) and enjoying some personalised care by mum and pop.

I wasn't too sure at first...

But a nice cuddle with dad did the trick

Although nothing tops mum's attention.

Tucked and wrapped in for the night. Cool.

Day 3

Third day, first cuddle. Yay! People here are really keen on skin-to-skin contact. I might not look like it on these pictures, but I really enjoy these cuddles.

Can you spot the similarity?

Day 2

Things were settling down a bit on my second day. Warm and cosy but for the many tubes. And that swollen face... makes me look like a boxer! But I'm - quite literally - hanging in there.

Still known as 'Baby of Lula'. Parents too overwhelmed to think straight. Lots of gifts. Not that I care yet, really.

Early

My launch procedure started off at 7pm on Monday 8 March. Mum wasn't that concerned. She called the doc who told her she should drop by the hospital for a check-up.

Mum called dad at around 7:35pm. He was in Sydney CBD (it was 5:35pm there), getting ready for a relaxed evening there. Not so. To this day no-one knows the precise extent of abuse dad had to serve in order to book the last flight out, cab to the airport through evening traffic, check-in and make it onto QF49, supposed to board at 6:05pm. At any rate, it worked.

Mum was feeling quite ok by then, although still unsure of what was going on. Dad rocked up on level 9 of Auckland City Hospital at around 1am. They thought mum would stay there for a couple of days and then go home. In a way they were right, but then again not really.

Things really kicked off at around 8am on Tuesday. Contractions, barely perceptible at first. Mum was slowly but surely tensing up. Contractions got pretty full on at around 9:30. The nurse around mum was fairly experienced and kept things under control. Dad rocked up at 9:45 with a big bag of groceries. The poor fellow was blissfully unaware of what was going on when he walked into that room.

Paul, the doc from AOC, was around a few minutes later. He was quite surprised to find that things were well underway. 4cm. In a casual tone he turned to mum and dad and said "well, you're going to have a baby today".

Now, let us pause here for a minute. Up to that point my parents had no clue. None. Their countdown timer was still showing 7 weeks to go, and both of them agreed that's the way it would go. Up to that point the medical staff reckoned the contractions would go away. I'll recount the next few hours for you because quite frankly, from then on, my parents were just passengers in this story.

By 10am we were all in the birthing room. It took a bit of scrambling to get sufficient staff in. I popped out at 11:05am, all 2.080kg and 44cm of me. My name was 'Rohrer, Baby of Lula'.

Mum and dad were slowing coming out of their haze. They seemed happy enough to be with me, although the staff whisked me away after a few minutes.

The staff geared me up with all sorts of things - sensors, CPAP, IV, etc. On the whole it was a rather unpleasant affair, but there you are.

A couple of hours and a shower later, mum was up and about. Feeling fresh and pumped.

What a day. A day to remember.