A year and a half later

Amber a few days after she was born

Where do you start if you haven’t blogged for a year and a half? There where you left off, or at present time?

So much has happened in the last 18 months that it is hard to try and summarize it all. But ‘god’ loves a trier, so I will try.

I think I last blogged about our trip to the Pfalz, Swiss and Holland, when I was about 6 months pregnant with Amber (wow, that seems long ago). Little did I know than, that it would be my last trip (and my last interaction with real rock) for a long long long time (about 18 months to be precise).

Against the advice of most people around me, I kept climbing till I was 38 weeks pregnant (8.5 months). I could still climb reasonable hard indoors, but I had given up climbing outdoors (too scared to hurt the little one when mantling on top of a bloc). I probably would of kept climbing past week 38, if it wasn’t for the 9th of December 2010. The day I’ll always remember as the day I’ll never forget. It was the day Andy took ill.

I’d just finished a session at Climb Newcastle and was hanging around in the wall (like you do as a highly pregnant lady), when I got a phone call of Chris and John. They said Andy wasn’t very well and had to go to hospital. John would pick me up from the wall to go and see him. Stewart, who had been with Andy that afternoon, was the first to see me and he said Andy was probably overworked (which made sense, because he had worked loads over the past few weeks, to get things finished before the little one was born). He said there was nothing to worry about. Little did he know.

John was waiting for me in the car park. He looked upset, and straight away told me Andy probably had a brain bleed. The medic had only told John this (but not Stewart, because he didn’t unnecessary wanted to upset Stewart). Breaking all traffic rules we speeded to the Royal Infirmity Hospital (RVI), where we had to wait in a little room. After about 10 minutes a doctor and assistant came in. Right there, in that little hospital room, the most surreal moment of my life happened. The doctor said he had some very bad news for us. Andy had suffered a severe aneurysm in a prominent part of his brain. He couldn’t tell us much more, only that we should expect the worse and hope for the best. The doctors words didn’t make sense, which is why I didn’t want to accept them. Andy was fine, surely. He was just overworked.

I was wrong, Andy wasn’t fine, he was far from it. On the 9th of December he had suffered a Grade V subarachnoid haemorrhage and fronto-temporal intracranial haemorrhage (i.e. the most severe aneurysm in the left side of his brain). Nobody knows when the bleed started, probably in the morning of the 9th (or even days before), but it ‘attacked’ him and knocked him unconscious that afternoon.

I won’t go into detail about what happened next. I could probably write a book about the weeks and months that followed (which I might do some day). But I will mention a few more things, just so you get a an idea of how our lives changed after the afternoon of the 9th of December 2010.

Not long after we were told the bad news, Andy was operated on. A few hours later we were able to see him in the Intensive Care Unit of the RVI. Not sure what to expect I went in with my heart pounding and holding my breath. There he was, my handsome boyfriend, lying on a bed surrounded with beeping machines, wires all over, his head half shaved, a probe sticking out of his skull, and being watches 24/7. And yet, he looked peaceful. As if he was enjoying a good sleep. I know it sounds silly, but I regret I never took a picture of him in the ICU, I think it might of helped Andy now (i.e. to see how peaceful and handsome he looked the 2 weeks that are missing of his life).

Andy stayed in the ICU for 2 weeks, the longest weeks of my life. Pretty much everything that could go wrong, went wrong. The pressure in Andy his brain didn’t want to drop, which is why they had to keep him in an induced coma and paralyze him for 2 weeks. In those two weeks he was on the edge of dying a few times. He hit his low when he developed a pneumonia. One day, my brother who is a doctor himself, said I had to expect a phone call of the hospital that night (Andy was doing that bad). But Andy wouldn’t be Andy if he didn’t pull through. Which he did.

All this time I was carrying our baby girl and I was approaching the delivery date. But I must admit, giving birth our daughter was the last thing on my mind. As long as she was inside my belly, she was fine. It was the best way for me to protect her, that’s how I felt it. But that’s not how my brother (a pediatrician) felt. He said she would be better of in my arms, than in my belly. That’s why I had a swipe and ‘booked’ a delivery date. The swipe must of triggered something, because 2 days after (the morning of the 23rd of December) I went into labour.

I will definitely spare you the details of the labour. But I can tell you it was the worse pain I’ve ever experienced. The reason it hurt so much was because Amber was ready to face the world, but my body didn’t wanted her to see it yet. Not in the state her family life was in. After 30 hours of horrible painful contractions (to the point I wanted to give up on life), the doctors realized how far ahead Amber was, and how little I gave in (and how much pain that must of caused). I was rushed to get an epidural and gas and air and be induced. Another 20 hours passed before my body finally gave in. And there she was, born on christmas day. This little perfectly shaped, healthy and gorgeous looking baby girl. Just for a moment you do forget about everything else in life.

In the 50 hours that I was in labour, Andy had woken up from his coma. Even the juiciest soap series wouldn’t of written what happened next. The doctors and nurses (e.g. Caroline and Brian) of the ICU had arranged for Andy to come and see me and his baby girl. Bare in mind he’d just woken up out of a coma, had no clue what had happened to him, had severe brain damage, was still drugged and wired up to the max. I didn’t know if he would remember me, or his unborn daughter. He later told me he first didn’t really know what was happening and who I was. But when he saw me, he took my hand and didn’t let go, which was enough for me to have the perfect christmas day ever. I’m so so so grateful to the ICU staff for doing this for us. Thanks to them we have pictures of the three of us together on the day Amber was born, which is (silly enough) so important.

The weeks and months that followed were everything that life has to offer when times get tough: emotional, tiring, lonely, but also powerful, strengthening, and interesting. A big thanks for all those who have supported us all the way through.

When I look back at it now I think we all (I mean Andy’s family, Andy and me) just tried to ‘survive’ and ‘cope’ with the changes in our lives those first few months. All in our own way, but also all together. Andy’s and mine family has been (and is) amazing. Without them life would of been very hard, whereas now life is great.

I’m not sure Andy would like me to write too much about his recovery process, so I won’t (till I’ve asked him). The only thing I will say is that he is doing amazing, knowing he had a Grade V bleed in such prominent part of his brain. The doctors at the RVI call him ‘the miracle’, because he can (already) do things nobody ever expected him to do. In the last year he has learned to walk again (even though he still doesn’t feel his right foot), he is independent in pretty much everything he does, his speech has improved massively and he can now lift his right arm above his head. And the most impressive thing of all is that he’s hardly ever low, works on/for his recovery, job and family 24/7 and is still so motivated. I’m sure he will improve even more over the next months/ years. I really do hope all his hard work will pay off. I hope it will make him able to say whatever he wants to say again and make feel and use his right arm and hand again.

And for me, I’m now the mother of this awesome smiley, naughty, beautiful girl, which I love. I just finished teaching at Sunderland university and will spend this next semester working for the wall and doing more route setting and coaching. Thanks to my amazing ‘mother in law’ I’ve been able to climb 3-4 times a week, which means I haven’t lost that much strength. And thanks to this same mother in law and father in law I was recently able to climb outside for the first time in 18 months!! How I’d forgotten how cold, painful, hard and frustrating but yet amazing, great, awesome and unbeatable climbing outside is again. I loved it.

Let’s hope 2012 will be a great year (I have the feeling it will :)).

Best wishes. Suz

Amber, Andy and me on Newyears Day (which we spend on the beach)