Monday, April 19, 2010
Puh - lease!!!
Ok, so we have M's stuff scheduled for May 6. Lots of work. So guess what? I'M GETTING SICK! No, not that me getting sick is all that big of a deal, after all, it's just a spring cold. But SHE can't get it. I'm frustrated enough that we have to wait until May 6. Just the thought of having to cancel, then trying to recoordinate 4 different docs with the ER is just making me nauseated. She started to go a bit yellow over the weekend, but nothing major. Please, please, PLEASE - if she has to get it, get it now so she has time to get over it.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
Mid April
Ok, so after starting with Maryn's birth story, I've taken a bit of a break. While it was cathartic, it was also incredibly difficult. I tell you, at 7:30 on March 31, I bawled like a baby. No pun intended. I just don't know if I can finish up the rest of her "birth" story right now. I will some day. I promise
On to real time.
Jaime is still as sweet as sugar. I walked in yesterday and just bent over near him. As soon as he saw me, he reached up and repeated "MAMA" until I picked him up. What did I do to deserve such a sweetheart?
He's being creative. Lots of new words and games. Did you know that a squirrel does, in fact, make a specific sound? I sure didn't. But just ask J, and he'll tell you what a squirrel says! It's some sort of weird "coo" sound, but it comes from the back of his throat. And he just invented his new "up high" game. I can't keep up.
Maryn is being a mini-me. Total drama and attitude. Two days ago, she pulls out, not only her NG, but also her trach! Little sh!t! She's lucky I wasn't there this time. So of course, I'm now wondering if this is the start of something regular. Oh joy. God help what's left of my hair if this DOES become a habit. Of course as I'm "chatting" with her about it, I just get this completely innocent "but I'm cute and you love me Mommy" look. How am I supposed to compete with that? Really? Oh, who am I kidding? She, and her brother, have me wrapped around those little fingers so tight I don't stand a chance.
The Princess has also cut her first tooth. I noticed on Sunday (April 11). She had been chomping on her fingers a whole lot recently, but she finally let me try and feel around in there Sunday. The bottom left one hasn't just poked through, almost the entire top surface is through. And the upper left is getting close too. Only a little late considering she should be 9 months old today.
We've been trying to get her to eat a little bit of baby food. Started with squash. Negative. Peaches? Nope. Sweet potatoes? Would you believe I think she likes them? Just like Big Brother! The past 2 nights she's taken about 1-2 tsps without a huge fight.
Surgery is scheduled. Thursday, May 6. And it's a full-plate. Come to find out that it won't just be a g-button, fundo and upper bronch with possible dialation. Pulmonolgy also wants a lower bronch, and neurosurg is going to take out the reservoir (pre-shunt thingy). Fun I tell you!
On to real time.
Jaime is still as sweet as sugar. I walked in yesterday and just bent over near him. As soon as he saw me, he reached up and repeated "MAMA" until I picked him up. What did I do to deserve such a sweetheart?
He's being creative. Lots of new words and games. Did you know that a squirrel does, in fact, make a specific sound? I sure didn't. But just ask J, and he'll tell you what a squirrel says! It's some sort of weird "coo" sound, but it comes from the back of his throat. And he just invented his new "up high" game. I can't keep up.
Maryn is being a mini-me. Total drama and attitude. Two days ago, she pulls out, not only her NG, but also her trach! Little sh!t! She's lucky I wasn't there this time. So of course, I'm now wondering if this is the start of something regular. Oh joy. God help what's left of my hair if this DOES become a habit. Of course as I'm "chatting" with her about it, I just get this completely innocent "but I'm cute and you love me Mommy" look. How am I supposed to compete with that? Really? Oh, who am I kidding? She, and her brother, have me wrapped around those little fingers so tight I don't stand a chance.
The Princess has also cut her first tooth. I noticed on Sunday (April 11). She had been chomping on her fingers a whole lot recently, but she finally let me try and feel around in there Sunday. The bottom left one hasn't just poked through, almost the entire top surface is through. And the upper left is getting close too. Only a little late considering she should be 9 months old today.
We've been trying to get her to eat a little bit of baby food. Started with squash. Negative. Peaches? Nope. Sweet potatoes? Would you believe I think she likes them? Just like Big Brother! The past 2 nights she's taken about 1-2 tsps without a huge fight.
Surgery is scheduled. Thursday, May 6. And it's a full-plate. Come to find out that it won't just be a g-button, fundo and upper bronch with possible dialation. Pulmonolgy also wants a lower bronch, and neurosurg is going to take out the reservoir (pre-shunt thingy). Fun I tell you!
Saturday, April 3, 2010
In the meantime 3/31-4/1
I was unconscious, but I heard this part of the story from friends and family after the fact.
My mom went to the NICU with the baby. Our priest was unreachable, but my mother-in-law did reach the pastor that had married us. As he was preparing to baptize her, my mom made an executive decision (that I agree with 100%). She was to be named Maryn Elizabeth. It's what I always wanted to name her, but I was afraid of using it if I was going to lose her. Then I would have named her Angelique. But she really was always my Maryn. And my sister Carrie and her husband Dan were to be godparents. The pictures are quite stunning. As she was being blessed, she looked so peaceful. But I know she was fighting something fierce.
She gave the docs and nurses a run for their money that night. But as I said, she was a fighter. First, the fact that she even HAD apgar scores was a miracle. She was trying to kick. Of course, as the battle ensued, she began to weaken, so there were lots of interventions. Ventilator, dopamine, art line, bili lights, nitric, etc.
I was another catch. I ended up seizing, going unconscious, and some stories even say I unofficially coded, deciding to breath just as they were ready to "push the button." I was hemmorhaging like no other and transported to the ICU. Great, BOTH of us in the ICU.
I needed 8 out of the 9 units of blood in my body replace, plus additional blood products. I have no idea how much of which products I got. I do know I gained 20 pounds overnight. I woke long enough overnight to tell the docs to just do the 2nd IV in my foot. They had tried at least 4 spots on my left arm (I already had an IV in my right), and they were desperate. Everything was collapsing. "It might hurt more than usual" they said. Whatever, you've poked me how many times with how many bruises, and you're worried about a needle in the ankle? I didn't care. "I wax my legs - this can't be any worse" I told them. Gotta hang on to humor when you are trying not to die.
Turns out, e.coli had snuck in between my uterus and the bag of waters when all this started. The antibiotics kept it in check at first, but it fought back with a vengeance once I was off them. It entered my blood stream, leading to sepsis, septic shock and then finally DIC. Don't ask me what the acronym literally stands for. But in essence, my blood lost all clotting factors. If you watched Private Practice, the one where they try to save Violet after the crazy lady steals her baby, well, that was basically me. Minus the nutso.
My mom went to the NICU with the baby. Our priest was unreachable, but my mother-in-law did reach the pastor that had married us. As he was preparing to baptize her, my mom made an executive decision (that I agree with 100%). She was to be named Maryn Elizabeth. It's what I always wanted to name her, but I was afraid of using it if I was going to lose her. Then I would have named her Angelique. But she really was always my Maryn. And my sister Carrie and her husband Dan were to be godparents. The pictures are quite stunning. As she was being blessed, she looked so peaceful. But I know she was fighting something fierce.
She gave the docs and nurses a run for their money that night. But as I said, she was a fighter. First, the fact that she even HAD apgar scores was a miracle. She was trying to kick. Of course, as the battle ensued, she began to weaken, so there were lots of interventions. Ventilator, dopamine, art line, bili lights, nitric, etc.
I was another catch. I ended up seizing, going unconscious, and some stories even say I unofficially coded, deciding to breath just as they were ready to "push the button." I was hemmorhaging like no other and transported to the ICU. Great, BOTH of us in the ICU.
I needed 8 out of the 9 units of blood in my body replace, plus additional blood products. I have no idea how much of which products I got. I do know I gained 20 pounds overnight. I woke long enough overnight to tell the docs to just do the 2nd IV in my foot. They had tried at least 4 spots on my left arm (I already had an IV in my right), and they were desperate. Everything was collapsing. "It might hurt more than usual" they said. Whatever, you've poked me how many times with how many bruises, and you're worried about a needle in the ankle? I didn't care. "I wax my legs - this can't be any worse" I told them. Gotta hang on to humor when you are trying not to die.
Turns out, e.coli had snuck in between my uterus and the bag of waters when all this started. The antibiotics kept it in check at first, but it fought back with a vengeance once I was off them. It entered my blood stream, leading to sepsis, septic shock and then finally DIC. Don't ask me what the acronym literally stands for. But in essence, my blood lost all clotting factors. If you watched Private Practice, the one where they try to save Violet after the crazy lady steals her baby, well, that was basically me. Minus the nutso.
OYA 3/31
D-day.
We went on with the day as usual. Sleeping in. Eating. Chatting with Gloria. Etc. That evening, my friend Kelly was nice enough to stop by to say hi. She was telling me about her daughter Skylar's birthday party a few days earlier. Sky is the smartest now-five-year-old I've ever met. What a sweetheart.
During our visit, I had to use the bathroom. About 7:30 pm. LOTS of blood. I mentioned it to Kelly, and understanding, she left as I called the nurse. Guess who? Nurse Alexa was back on. Again, I could tell she was concerned. It looked similar to the bleeding I had when I was admitted. She called the resident. About 10 minutes after calling for the nurse, I started vomitting. And I was spiking a fever. I tell you, that was horrifying. Here I was, vomitting uncontrollable, knowing that with every retch, I was putting pressure on the cerclage that was my baby's only chance. And of course trying NOT TO made things even worse.
They tried to get my anti-contraction meds down. That lasted about 2 minutes. My fever was now approaching 103*. Something wasn't right. At first, I wondered if I ate something iffy, but that wouldn't have such a fever effect that quickly.
By 8:00, the verdict was in. Alexa came in and said, "we are having a baby tonight." The docs had decided that was our only chance since we didn't know what was going on. Someone might as well have just collapsed both of my lungs. Despite all the physical pain I was currently in, THAT was the news that literally took my breath away. I couldn't breathe as the panic set in. I begged them. No, please. Not now. It's still too early.
I agreed to the surgery while begging for my husband, my mom and our priest. I knew what lie ahead. I just knew I was never going to be able to hold my baby girl. Alexa and some other nurses came in with the paperwork and to do all the pre-op stuff. I was pleading with Alexa - if this was going to happen, would she please be there. Don't leave me. If I had been well enough to open my eyes, I am sure the room would have been spinning. My mom made it back to the hospital just before I was rolled to the OR. I asked her to watch over Punkin.
I don't remember getting to the OR. I guess I was in and out of consciousness by this time. In the OR, things went quickly. Spinal went in fairly easily. And the c-section was underway. Despite the sheer terror (and fever) that was causing me to shake uncontrollably, seeing Doc K made me believe that this WAS the right thing. And Doc H, who admitted me, was assisting. They would do everything they could. And the nasty Neo Doc K was already there. That made me feel better. While last time, he was telling me my baby had no chance at that point, now he was there and was going to try and save her. I saw a bunch of other people in the room, but I had no idea who they were.
About 9:10, yes less than 2 hours after the ordeal started, I asked David to let me know when she was born. He told me she had been out for about 10 minutes. I didn't even know my baby girl was officially here. Or if she was alive. She was born at 8:59 PM, weighing 1 pound 12 ounces (790 grams), measuring 12 1/2 inches long. And yes, she was alive. For the moment. The neo group had gotten the breathing tube in and were now going to transport her down to 5th floor (I was still on 9) to Children's NICU. I got a quick glimpse. She WAS alive! Lying on her right side, she had one eye open. It wasn't much, but she was fighting. Right from the start.
Now my moment of weakness for which I will never forgive myself. I asked David to stay with me and let my mom go with the baby. How could a mother do that? I always said that he was to be with our children! Now here I was being entirely selfish. I was the reason she was having to fight so early, and now I was leaving her alone.
They closed me up and took out the cerclage. Somehow, I got to they recovery room. Again, in and out. The palpating of the abdomen was something awful, but it needed to be done. But once again, my nurse in recovery was REALLY pregnant. I wanted to hit someone. Why? Why would they think this assignment was appropriate? Doc K was in there a lot. I didn't know what was going on. I knew I would bleed even after a c-section, but they kept checking to see how much I was bleeding. I was getting so tired at this point. I couldn't fight sleep any longer.
Black.
We went on with the day as usual. Sleeping in. Eating. Chatting with Gloria. Etc. That evening, my friend Kelly was nice enough to stop by to say hi. She was telling me about her daughter Skylar's birthday party a few days earlier. Sky is the smartest now-five-year-old I've ever met. What a sweetheart.
During our visit, I had to use the bathroom. About 7:30 pm. LOTS of blood. I mentioned it to Kelly, and understanding, she left as I called the nurse. Guess who? Nurse Alexa was back on. Again, I could tell she was concerned. It looked similar to the bleeding I had when I was admitted. She called the resident. About 10 minutes after calling for the nurse, I started vomitting. And I was spiking a fever. I tell you, that was horrifying. Here I was, vomitting uncontrollable, knowing that with every retch, I was putting pressure on the cerclage that was my baby's only chance. And of course trying NOT TO made things even worse.
They tried to get my anti-contraction meds down. That lasted about 2 minutes. My fever was now approaching 103*. Something wasn't right. At first, I wondered if I ate something iffy, but that wouldn't have such a fever effect that quickly.
By 8:00, the verdict was in. Alexa came in and said, "we are having a baby tonight." The docs had decided that was our only chance since we didn't know what was going on. Someone might as well have just collapsed both of my lungs. Despite all the physical pain I was currently in, THAT was the news that literally took my breath away. I couldn't breathe as the panic set in. I begged them. No, please. Not now. It's still too early.
I agreed to the surgery while begging for my husband, my mom and our priest. I knew what lie ahead. I just knew I was never going to be able to hold my baby girl. Alexa and some other nurses came in with the paperwork and to do all the pre-op stuff. I was pleading with Alexa - if this was going to happen, would she please be there. Don't leave me. If I had been well enough to open my eyes, I am sure the room would have been spinning. My mom made it back to the hospital just before I was rolled to the OR. I asked her to watch over Punkin.
I don't remember getting to the OR. I guess I was in and out of consciousness by this time. In the OR, things went quickly. Spinal went in fairly easily. And the c-section was underway. Despite the sheer terror (and fever) that was causing me to shake uncontrollably, seeing Doc K made me believe that this WAS the right thing. And Doc H, who admitted me, was assisting. They would do everything they could. And the nasty Neo Doc K was already there. That made me feel better. While last time, he was telling me my baby had no chance at that point, now he was there and was going to try and save her. I saw a bunch of other people in the room, but I had no idea who they were.
About 9:10, yes less than 2 hours after the ordeal started, I asked David to let me know when she was born. He told me she had been out for about 10 minutes. I didn't even know my baby girl was officially here. Or if she was alive. She was born at 8:59 PM, weighing 1 pound 12 ounces (790 grams), measuring 12 1/2 inches long. And yes, she was alive. For the moment. The neo group had gotten the breathing tube in and were now going to transport her down to 5th floor (I was still on 9) to Children's NICU. I got a quick glimpse. She WAS alive! Lying on her right side, she had one eye open. It wasn't much, but she was fighting. Right from the start.
Now my moment of weakness for which I will never forgive myself. I asked David to stay with me and let my mom go with the baby. How could a mother do that? I always said that he was to be with our children! Now here I was being entirely selfish. I was the reason she was having to fight so early, and now I was leaving her alone.
They closed me up and took out the cerclage. Somehow, I got to they recovery room. Again, in and out. The palpating of the abdomen was something awful, but it needed to be done. But once again, my nurse in recovery was REALLY pregnant. I wanted to hit someone. Why? Why would they think this assignment was appropriate? Doc K was in there a lot. I didn't know what was going on. I knew I would bleed even after a c-section, but they kept checking to see how much I was bleeding. I was getting so tired at this point. I couldn't fight sleep any longer.
Black.
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