Ultrasound today.
Oh, please God, let's make that goal weight. Remember when the docs said they wanted her 1 1/2 pounds to give her a shot? Well, at that point, she was only 1 pound. Thus, the high protein diet. She needed to increase her weight by 50%. Really? It took her 5 months to hit 1 lb! You want her to increase that much now in 2 weeks? Not possible. But I gave it my best shot with chicken nuggets (from Wendy's), yogurt, bacon and protein drinks. Was I even close to successful?
First, a cervix check. The cerclage was still holding! I seriously couldn't believe it. Shock, awe, disbelief, sheer joy. There were too many emotions to accurately describe them all. The shot at saving my daughter's life was still working.
Then, the weight check. I don't know how the docs prioritized this, but it was the most important for me. If she came right now, do they think she'd have a chance? YES!!!!!! They were putting her at 1 lb 10 oz!!! Two ounces more than my goal!!! How on earth did this happen? I didn't care, because whatever it was, it was working. It made me deal with the lack of appetite a little better. While I may not feel like eating anything, SHE was getting it. She was gaining. She was doing exactly what we needed her to do. She was fighting.
I asked the docs about the steroids for lung development too. I was told that research showed that the benefit of them decreased as time went on, so they didn't want to give them too early. If they gave them to me now and she held out for 2-3 more weeks, they would have gone to waste. If it looked like delivery was imminent within the next 48-72 hours, then they'd start. But for now, we were just going to stay in the holding pattern.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
OYA 3/29
So in the middle of all this, I met a wonderful lady. She changed my life. She kept me from that dark hole that was so attractive. She kept it real while refusing to focus on the negative. I looked forward to when she was working, and I kept telling her she needed to be my nurse every day. Denise became more than just a completely awesome nurse. I'd like to say she's also my friend.
She "got" me. She wouldn't wake me up just to check for vitals. Yup, I was still breathing. She knew I would let her know if something was up. She'd come in and chat. I'd tell her about Jaime, and she'd tell me about her kids, the camping, the horses, her parents and the new puppy. I got to hear stories of idiot cable men. We'd talk about chocolate and growing up outside of a thriving metropolis. We were familiar with the same areas of town, so we'd toss out "you gotta check out this place" hints.
But don't cross my Denise! Like I said, she kept it real. She was never mean, but she told it to you straight. She could hold her own, even against a cranky, whiny little brat like me. When I would complain, she'd listen, then help me suck it up and continue fighting. She'd remind me what I was fighting for, pointing out that the fight, the pain, the inconvenience, the terror, was more than worth it. She wouldn't push me to deal with it on my own. Nope, she would walk through it all with me. The good, the bad, and the ugly that was to come.
She brought a piece of real life to me, making me feel a little less isolated. Another one of my angels in disguise. Or in this case, scrubs!
She "got" me. She wouldn't wake me up just to check for vitals. Yup, I was still breathing. She knew I would let her know if something was up. She'd come in and chat. I'd tell her about Jaime, and she'd tell me about her kids, the camping, the horses, her parents and the new puppy. I got to hear stories of idiot cable men. We'd talk about chocolate and growing up outside of a thriving metropolis. We were familiar with the same areas of town, so we'd toss out "you gotta check out this place" hints.
But don't cross my Denise! Like I said, she kept it real. She was never mean, but she told it to you straight. She could hold her own, even against a cranky, whiny little brat like me. When I would complain, she'd listen, then help me suck it up and continue fighting. She'd remind me what I was fighting for, pointing out that the fight, the pain, the inconvenience, the terror, was more than worth it. She wouldn't push me to deal with it on my own. Nope, she would walk through it all with me. The good, the bad, and the ugly that was to come.
She brought a piece of real life to me, making me feel a little less isolated. Another one of my angels in disguise. Or in this case, scrubs!
OYA 3/28
Yeah, I'm a bit behind. Sorry.
So we were just hanging out. Wow. I couldn't believe we'd made it two weeks. Two weeks since we heard that horrid news. Two weeks since those terrible statistics. Two weeks of a hospital bed. Two weeks in the exact same room (minus surgery and tornado time). Two weeks of a chance. Two weeks of growth. Two weeks of life.
So we were just hanging out. Wow. I couldn't believe we'd made it two weeks. Two weeks since we heard that horrid news. Two weeks since those terrible statistics. Two weeks of a hospital bed. Two weeks in the exact same room (minus surgery and tornado time). Two weeks of a chance. Two weeks of growth. Two weeks of life.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
OYA 3/27
My last day on antibiotics. Something precautionary they did after my cerclage. Sweet! One less pill to take. If only....
OYA 3/26
I was feeling gross. REALLY gross. We are talking almost 2 weeks with no shower GROSS. So we made a plan.
My mom was going to cut my hair. I didn't care what it looked like, but it was getting too long. Even though I hadn't really looked in a mirror for a long time, I could feel it was too long. With my curly hair, it would turn into a mini-beehive or poodle when it was too long. The light-socket look was cramping my style. Somebody cut it or I was going to take a razor to it. Seriously. So, we asked Jenni for a pair of scissors, and my mom had at it. She just started hacking away. And no, she doesn't have any hair-dressing experience. I didn't care. Remember, I was prepared to shave my head, so fashion and style was not of great concern. But you know what? It ended up looking pretty good! And it was a heck of a lot cheaper than going out to get it done.
Then, a bath! Ok, it was a sponge bath, but again, I didn't care. I always thought I'd be so concerned about things like that, but nope. I really had lost all modesty.
Add in my painted toes courtesy of my awesome sister from a few days earlier, and I was HOT. Ok, maybe that is pushing it. At least I now felt like I was maybe even 1/2 human.
My mom was going to cut my hair. I didn't care what it looked like, but it was getting too long. Even though I hadn't really looked in a mirror for a long time, I could feel it was too long. With my curly hair, it would turn into a mini-beehive or poodle when it was too long. The light-socket look was cramping my style. Somebody cut it or I was going to take a razor to it. Seriously. So, we asked Jenni for a pair of scissors, and my mom had at it. She just started hacking away. And no, she doesn't have any hair-dressing experience. I didn't care. Remember, I was prepared to shave my head, so fashion and style was not of great concern. But you know what? It ended up looking pretty good! And it was a heck of a lot cheaper than going out to get it done.
Then, a bath! Ok, it was a sponge bath, but again, I didn't care. I always thought I'd be so concerned about things like that, but nope. I really had lost all modesty.
Add in my painted toes courtesy of my awesome sister from a few days earlier, and I was HOT. Ok, maybe that is pushing it. At least I now felt like I was maybe even 1/2 human.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
OYA 3/25
Happy birthday Papa!
Another milestone. We were now at 24 weeks! I could think of no better gift than to give my dad than to still be pregnant.
Another milestone. We were now at 24 weeks! I could think of no better gift than to give my dad than to still be pregnant.
OYA 3/24
So many things going through my mind. Yeah, I was still terrified, in shock, worried, upset, etc. But I was also bored outta my mind!
For those of you lucky enough to have avoided bedrest, the idea may seem appealing to you. Getting to lie around and have everyone wait on you hand and foot. Don't even need to lift a finger. Well, the joy of that lasts for about 4-6 hours. Then it gets old. And you get that "I've been lying around for too long headache." It doesn't go away. I had only been on bedrest for 10 days, and I was batty. I can't imagine having to do this for months.
So, my day consisted of sleeping in late. We got to a point of stability, so the nurses would leave me be until I was up. At least the nice ones would. Eating, ugh. I'd rather not, but I did. Lots of pretty awful TV. I could tell what time it was bsed on what was on TV, at least on weekdays. Regis and Kelly, the View, All My Children, Bonnie Hunt, Ellen, Rachael Ray, and those sleezy entertainment "news" magazines were my friends. I'd play Skipbo or Cribbage with whichever family member was on duty at the time. I tried to read, but it's tough to stay awake for long while reading in bed.I'd hope on facebook from time to time, but mostly just to play games. I couldn't quite bring myself to updating friends and family on our situation. While we were holding steady, it was still all-too precarious.
Anne from one of my schools brought in a goodie bag for me! She must have read my mind. My awesome language department, along with our buddies the business department, all chipped in, and Anne bought some things for me that might keep me busy. Gossip magazines, sudoku, hand-held solitare (that has now gone through about 5 battery changes), and a digital picture frame. She knew I always had lots of pictures of Jaime around, and she knew that I wasn't able to be with him all the time, so maybe this would help. It was so wonderful. I still use the tote everything was in as a purse in the spring/summer as it is so bright and cheery.
Most people wouldn't think much of something like this, but it made a huge difference to me. It kept me connected and gave me a little fun to think about instead of always thinking doom and gloom. 'Cause we all know that is my specialty.
For those of you lucky enough to have avoided bedrest, the idea may seem appealing to you. Getting to lie around and have everyone wait on you hand and foot. Don't even need to lift a finger. Well, the joy of that lasts for about 4-6 hours. Then it gets old. And you get that "I've been lying around for too long headache." It doesn't go away. I had only been on bedrest for 10 days, and I was batty. I can't imagine having to do this for months.
So, my day consisted of sleeping in late. We got to a point of stability, so the nurses would leave me be until I was up. At least the nice ones would. Eating, ugh. I'd rather not, but I did. Lots of pretty awful TV. I could tell what time it was bsed on what was on TV, at least on weekdays. Regis and Kelly, the View, All My Children, Bonnie Hunt, Ellen, Rachael Ray, and those sleezy entertainment "news" magazines were my friends. I'd play Skipbo or Cribbage with whichever family member was on duty at the time. I tried to read, but it's tough to stay awake for long while reading in bed.I'd hope on facebook from time to time, but mostly just to play games. I couldn't quite bring myself to updating friends and family on our situation. While we were holding steady, it was still all-too precarious.
Anne from one of my schools brought in a goodie bag for me! She must have read my mind. My awesome language department, along with our buddies the business department, all chipped in, and Anne bought some things for me that might keep me busy. Gossip magazines, sudoku, hand-held solitare (that has now gone through about 5 battery changes), and a digital picture frame. She knew I always had lots of pictures of Jaime around, and she knew that I wasn't able to be with him all the time, so maybe this would help. It was so wonderful. I still use the tote everything was in as a purse in the spring/summer as it is so bright and cheery.
Most people wouldn't think much of something like this, but it made a huge difference to me. It kept me connected and gave me a little fun to think about instead of always thinking doom and gloom. 'Cause we all know that is my specialty.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
OYA 3/23
Ok, today was not fun. But not for reasons one might expect.
We were one week out from surgery. I couldn't believe it. Here I was, still in the good ole hospital, but still pregnant. Who'd a thunk it? I had permission to get up and walk to the bathroom. Still a scary endeavour every time, but it was manageable.
So today, Mother "f&cking" Nature had to try and ruin our fun. Tornadoes. Seriously. We had a tornado warning here. In Nebraska. In March. And I was stuck on the top floor of a hospital. Are you freakin' kidding me? I was in the south tower. Guess which way the tornado was coming from? From the south. REALLY? So, as procedure demanded, the nurses rolled all of us ladies, every single one, out of our rooms and lined us up in the hallway in our beds. Now that was a pretty sight. Yikes. Overhead speakers kept us abrest of the weather since no one was supposed to be in a room. But a number of non-patients got impatient and would wander into a room to check out the news. Me, I wouldn't let David check in our room because, get this, the seal on our window was broken! So, in other words, if the tornado did hit, my room was A-1 screwed. I could hear the rain pounding and the wind howling. When we did peak in - come on, we were there for about 90 minutes and needed entertainment - you could see the curtains swaying a bit. Seriously? I must be cursed.
And of COURSE it was right about this time that I needed to use the restroom. Like NOW. Thus a dilemma. Docs said don't "hold it" as the additional pressure could weaken the cerclage. I won't go into details, but you might be able to get the gist of it. Dash as fast as a hospitalized, terrified, non-mobile preggo could into my bathroom, then dash right out? So after bugging many nurses, I took my chances. Cover me! Really, those hospital gowns don't leave much to the imagination from behind.
No surprise now that all turned out fine and the tornado skipped most of the city itself, but at the time, I just wanted to kick Mother Nature in the face. Then take a nap.
We were one week out from surgery. I couldn't believe it. Here I was, still in the good ole hospital, but still pregnant. Who'd a thunk it? I had permission to get up and walk to the bathroom. Still a scary endeavour every time, but it was manageable.
So today, Mother "f&cking" Nature had to try and ruin our fun. Tornadoes. Seriously. We had a tornado warning here. In Nebraska. In March. And I was stuck on the top floor of a hospital. Are you freakin' kidding me? I was in the south tower. Guess which way the tornado was coming from? From the south. REALLY? So, as procedure demanded, the nurses rolled all of us ladies, every single one, out of our rooms and lined us up in the hallway in our beds. Now that was a pretty sight. Yikes. Overhead speakers kept us abrest of the weather since no one was supposed to be in a room. But a number of non-patients got impatient and would wander into a room to check out the news. Me, I wouldn't let David check in our room because, get this, the seal on our window was broken! So, in other words, if the tornado did hit, my room was A-1 screwed. I could hear the rain pounding and the wind howling. When we did peak in - come on, we were there for about 90 minutes and needed entertainment - you could see the curtains swaying a bit. Seriously? I must be cursed.
And of COURSE it was right about this time that I needed to use the restroom. Like NOW. Thus a dilemma. Docs said don't "hold it" as the additional pressure could weaken the cerclage. I won't go into details, but you might be able to get the gist of it. Dash as fast as a hospitalized, terrified, non-mobile preggo could into my bathroom, then dash right out? So after bugging many nurses, I took my chances. Cover me! Really, those hospital gowns don't leave much to the imagination from behind.
No surprise now that all turned out fine and the tornado skipped most of the city itself, but at the time, I just wanted to kick Mother Nature in the face. Then take a nap.
Monday, March 22, 2010
OYA 3/22
I tell ya, throughout this whole thing, I had some amazing nurses. While most were trying to do their best in a dire situation, most still were able to manage a smile and small talk. But I have one suggestion. Completely unrealistic, I know, but this was one of the hardest things for me to deal with, both before and after M was born.
In a high-risk, life and death situation, please, I beg you, PLEASE, NO MORE REALLY PREGNANT NURSES! The few times that happened to me, it was like shoving all my failures back in my face again. "So and so" could do it, why couldn't I? And the bitter jealousy. I'm not normally a jealous person, but seeing very pregnant people physically hurt. Why do that do someone in our situation?
No one would mention it. Like if they didn't say something, I wouldn't notice. Only one pregnant nurse, who I honestly didn't know was pregnant by looking at her, would acknowledge it. Jenni, God bless her. She had been here, done that. She almost lost a child the same way we were fighting for Punkin right now. She empowered me. Look what is possible! No false hopes or promises, just the truth. She got it. She understood the fear, the doubt and the pain. She knew when to talk and when to just stop. She gave me a reason to smile, not just cringe. (Now if only I could need joint surgery or something as she switched to an ortho hospital!)
I still have a hard time breathing around pregnant women. I know it's something I need to learn to deal with in general, but during the uncertain time just before and after an extremely premature birth was not one I could handle.
In a high-risk, life and death situation, please, I beg you, PLEASE, NO MORE REALLY PREGNANT NURSES! The few times that happened to me, it was like shoving all my failures back in my face again. "So and so" could do it, why couldn't I? And the bitter jealousy. I'm not normally a jealous person, but seeing very pregnant people physically hurt. Why do that do someone in our situation?
No one would mention it. Like if they didn't say something, I wouldn't notice. Only one pregnant nurse, who I honestly didn't know was pregnant by looking at her, would acknowledge it. Jenni, God bless her. She had been here, done that. She almost lost a child the same way we were fighting for Punkin right now. She empowered me. Look what is possible! No false hopes or promises, just the truth. She got it. She understood the fear, the doubt and the pain. She knew when to talk and when to just stop. She gave me a reason to smile, not just cringe. (Now if only I could need joint surgery or something as she switched to an ortho hospital!)
I still have a hard time breathing around pregnant women. I know it's something I need to learn to deal with in general, but during the uncertain time just before and after an extremely premature birth was not one I could handle.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
OYA 3/21
Another big leap.
Docs started talking about extended bathroom priviledges. They were going to let me walk the 3 additional feet to the bathroom! I was free!!!! Watch out world, I'm on a roll.
Actually, I was terrified, but I tried to trust that they knew what they were doing.
Docs started talking about extended bathroom priviledges. They were going to let me walk the 3 additional feet to the bathroom! I was free!!!! Watch out world, I'm on a roll.
Actually, I was terrified, but I tried to trust that they knew what they were doing.
OYA 3/20
Please forgive my tardiness - I've been trying to stay outta the hospital myself the past 2 days.
I could hardly believe that I had been admitted a week ago. So much had happened. EVERYTHING had changed. Yet somehow, we were both still fighting.
And it sucked. Big time. But from time to time, God sends little earth-angels to help us through those sucky times. One of my angels was Gloria. I don't know why, but she became part of our fight.
Gloria was a worker in the hospital cafeteria. She delivered meals to my floor Tuesdays-Saturday 12-8. Yes, I learned her schedule so that I could adjust my order if she was leaving soon or coming on shift! But she did so much more than deliever food. She always brought me a smile and a little more will to fight. Even if she wasn't coming to my room, if she was on the floor, she's stop by and ask me what I'd eaten so far today. If it wasn't good enough for her standards (and dang, that girl had HIGH standards!), she'd give me a time limit to improve it. Ok, I expect you to have eaten all of that yogurt and drink a juice within the next hour. And I kid you not, she would check to make sure I hit the mark!
I hated Sundays and Mondays because I knew she'd be gone. Well, she even offered to come sit with me on her days off just to keep me company and make sure I and Baby Girl were eating enough. Something in my heart tells me that I wouldn't have had to ask twice if I wanted this. But she needed her time off too, to enjoy her own family and watch her granddaughter play basketball. She knew I had no appetite whatsoever, so she'd let me know where she was sending her boyfriend for lunch in case I would like some take out from that restaurant instead.
I truly loved Gloria. One day, I asked her why she was doing all this for us. She said that she just felt that God wanted her to help us. That was part of her mission on earth so to speak. And let me tell you, there is no way I could ever come close to repaying her for what she gave us.
I could hardly believe that I had been admitted a week ago. So much had happened. EVERYTHING had changed. Yet somehow, we were both still fighting.
And it sucked. Big time. But from time to time, God sends little earth-angels to help us through those sucky times. One of my angels was Gloria. I don't know why, but she became part of our fight.
Gloria was a worker in the hospital cafeteria. She delivered meals to my floor Tuesdays-Saturday 12-8. Yes, I learned her schedule so that I could adjust my order if she was leaving soon or coming on shift! But she did so much more than deliever food. She always brought me a smile and a little more will to fight. Even if she wasn't coming to my room, if she was on the floor, she's stop by and ask me what I'd eaten so far today. If it wasn't good enough for her standards (and dang, that girl had HIGH standards!), she'd give me a time limit to improve it. Ok, I expect you to have eaten all of that yogurt and drink a juice within the next hour. And I kid you not, she would check to make sure I hit the mark!
I hated Sundays and Mondays because I knew she'd be gone. Well, she even offered to come sit with me on her days off just to keep me company and make sure I and Baby Girl were eating enough. Something in my heart tells me that I wouldn't have had to ask twice if I wanted this. But she needed her time off too, to enjoy her own family and watch her granddaughter play basketball. She knew I had no appetite whatsoever, so she'd let me know where she was sending her boyfriend for lunch in case I would like some take out from that restaurant instead.
I truly loved Gloria. One day, I asked her why she was doing all this for us. She said that she just felt that God wanted her to help us. That was part of her mission on earth so to speak. And let me tell you, there is no way I could ever come close to repaying her for what she gave us.
Friday, March 19, 2010
OYA 3/19
She was still hanging in there! Yes, that sounds like a sick joke, but it's true.
23 weeks 1 day. My doctors were beginning to talk about letting me have modified bathroom priviledges. Ok, so what's that? After conferring, they said they would have someone bring in a remedial toilet that they would set up right next to my bed. So around this day, I was able to get up and sit for short periods of time. Terrifying, I tell you. What if the adjustment in pressure caused the cerclage to fail? Hell, I don't even know if that's possible, but I know I worried about it. Besides, Punkin seemed to rather enjoy kicking me there. But they said they thought it was safe.
Let me tell you, in a situation like this, you don't care that you are basically pooping in your bedroom! And yes, then I had to have someone come empty it. So totally gross, but what other choice do you have? Just knowing that I could get off my back for 90 seconds at a time made the minutes, hours, days, a touch more bearable. Something "normal" was helping me feel a bit more human. You never really know how much those "little things in life" make you feel like a real person until you have them taken away.
23 weeks 1 day. My doctors were beginning to talk about letting me have modified bathroom priviledges. Ok, so what's that? After conferring, they said they would have someone bring in a remedial toilet that they would set up right next to my bed. So around this day, I was able to get up and sit for short periods of time. Terrifying, I tell you. What if the adjustment in pressure caused the cerclage to fail? Hell, I don't even know if that's possible, but I know I worried about it. Besides, Punkin seemed to rather enjoy kicking me there. But they said they thought it was safe.
Let me tell you, in a situation like this, you don't care that you are basically pooping in your bedroom! And yes, then I had to have someone come empty it. So totally gross, but what other choice do you have? Just knowing that I could get off my back for 90 seconds at a time made the minutes, hours, days, a touch more bearable. Something "normal" was helping me feel a bit more human. You never really know how much those "little things in life" make you feel like a real person until you have them taken away.
Thursday, March 18, 2010
OYA 3/18
A glimmer of hope. If she came now, she would have a chance. Albeit small, but I'd take any chance I could get.
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Frustration
Ok, so it's NOT e.coli! How this could have gotten so screwed up I have no idea. I just talked to one of our regular nurses - other than looking for e.coli since we know M's susceptible to it, there was no evidence of it anywhere in the report. WTF? Of course I'm glad it isn't that evil, devil of a bug that needs to burn in hell. But still, you have no idea how much the thought of her having that again scares me.
So, now we wait. I'll talk to the doc's office again within the next few days. Guess since I've been trying to ready myself for her needing the surgery, I might as well see if we should still get it over with. After all, it is probably just a matter of time.
So, now we wait. I'll talk to the doc's office again within the next few days. Guess since I've been trying to ready myself for her needing the surgery, I might as well see if we should still get it over with. After all, it is probably just a matter of time.
OYA 3/17
Status quo. Nothing much was going on, other than me going stir crazy. Punkin was doing ok. I was surviving miserably.
I hadn't seen Jaime since we went to the hospital Friday night. This was, hands down, the WORST time of my life. Not only did I not know if my baby girl was going to survive, but I wasn't able to see Buggy very often either. And he's my ray of sunshine. He brightens my day. Yet stuck in that hospital bed on my back, I couldn't see him. It wouldn't be in Punkin's best interest to have Jaime bouncing all over her. I missed him terribly even though I talked to him on the phone at LEAST once a day. It wasn't the same. I couldn't get cuddles or kisses from him. I couldn't ask him to make "nice baby" and watch him rub my belly. Oh God! What if we lost Punkin? How would I explain that to him? There really isn't a way to put it into words how awful it was.
At the same time, I was praying for ONE MORE DAY. ONE MORE DAY would get us to 23 weeks. Yes, ideally we'd go longer, but that was the bare minumum. She would have a chance. Please God, at least one more day.
I hadn't seen Jaime since we went to the hospital Friday night. This was, hands down, the WORST time of my life. Not only did I not know if my baby girl was going to survive, but I wasn't able to see Buggy very often either. And he's my ray of sunshine. He brightens my day. Yet stuck in that hospital bed on my back, I couldn't see him. It wouldn't be in Punkin's best interest to have Jaime bouncing all over her. I missed him terribly even though I talked to him on the phone at LEAST once a day. It wasn't the same. I couldn't get cuddles or kisses from him. I couldn't ask him to make "nice baby" and watch him rub my belly. Oh God! What if we lost Punkin? How would I explain that to him? There really isn't a way to put it into words how awful it was.
At the same time, I was praying for ONE MORE DAY. ONE MORE DAY would get us to 23 weeks. Yes, ideally we'd go longer, but that was the bare minumum. She would have a chance. Please God, at least one more day.
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Why now?
Just got the word from the doc. Maryn is positive for e. coli again. That means her spitting is causing the infections. So this was the last straw. She WILL need to have the fundo and g-button. I'm pissed at the world. If we have to do this, let's just do it and get it over with please.
Who's got the tequila?
Who's got the tequila?
OYA 3/16
Trying to put on a good face so I wouldn't completely ruin my mom's birthday. The day started with an ultrasound to see if the cerclage was doing its job. God Almightly, it was. I actually had a bit of cervix to measure! 1.5 cm if memory serves me correctly. Not much, but at this point, I'd take any improvement (anything below 3 cm is not good). Getting it done was not fun - considering yesterday they shoved needles, etc up there, now they were shoving u/s wands. But I was so happy (considering) that I didn't care all that much about the discomfort.
At that point, the doc said that it looked like Punkin weighed 1 pound. Whenever she made her entrance, they wanted her to be at least 1 1/2 pounds. So we had some work to do. It was not going to be easy. I was to eat. A lot. Often. Preferably stuff high in protein. And when I ordered from the cafeteria, they were going to see how much I ate and of what. Have you ever tried to eat while lying down? For days on end? Yeah, not so much. That was miserable. I had no appetite whatsoever. But I had to eat to *hopefully*give Punkin a chance. I still thank God for bacon.
At that point, the doc said that it looked like Punkin weighed 1 pound. Whenever she made her entrance, they wanted her to be at least 1 1/2 pounds. So we had some work to do. It was not going to be easy. I was to eat. A lot. Often. Preferably stuff high in protein. And when I ordered from the cafeteria, they were going to see how much I ate and of what. Have you ever tried to eat while lying down? For days on end? Yeah, not so much. That was miserable. I had no appetite whatsoever. But I had to eat to *hopefully*give Punkin a chance. I still thank God for bacon.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Gee, this is fun
So yeah, not only are we dealing with me trying to stay sane through all the memories, but both kids are sick.
Jaime has been fighting off a cold for a few days. Actually, I think he's teething. I really hope his 2-year molars come in before he starts losing others! He's all fussy, eating like crap (worse than usual), and drooling a small estuary. And he only wants his Mama.
Then....Maryn started going yellow yesterday morning. It was slight, so we just kept an eye on it. A little sleepier than usual, but no other symptoms. Last night's nurse had to put her on O2 throughout the night. BOOOO! I don't like that. Of course whatever M needs, but still. We were doing so good. David calls me at work asking me to meet him at the pedi office later in the morning. Now, she has added wheezing, a low-grade temp, and coughing up blood to the mix. Great. Just f%*()$% great.
Off to the pedi we go. First - the good news. She weighed 16lbs 6oz! Ok, so 3-4 oz of that were clothes and diaper, but still, she's over 16lbs! That was my lofty goal for her by her birthday. Now, the bad news. 99.6* temp. Not "officially" a fever, but M's norm is around 98.0. They ordered an aspirate. Of course, now she won't cough anything up. No doubt about it - she's my kid. We are back on antibiotics and a nebulizer pending aspirate results. And if it comes back e. coli again, we really need to give surgery the go.
Fast forward to the afternoon. Aspirate needed to be redone. Was too thick and dry by the time it hit the lab. So Nana and I took her in to CH. I actually made it through the lobby without recognizing anyone! Again, small miracles. Once we finally got into the lab room, I was glad to see that RT Heather was going to do the test. She is awesome. She really talked me through being present for one of M's first self-extubating episodes in the NICU. Very competent and calming. Willing to talk. What I needed. We were debating going to the ER, as Heather mentioned something about her breathing fast. She was starting to retract more than usual. But I chose to wait. Of course, I'm now waiting to see at what time we'll have to head in tonight, but anyway.
So now we wait for the call some time tomorrow. The sooner the better please.
Jaime has been fighting off a cold for a few days. Actually, I think he's teething. I really hope his 2-year molars come in before he starts losing others! He's all fussy, eating like crap (worse than usual), and drooling a small estuary. And he only wants his Mama.
Then....Maryn started going yellow yesterday morning. It was slight, so we just kept an eye on it. A little sleepier than usual, but no other symptoms. Last night's nurse had to put her on O2 throughout the night. BOOOO! I don't like that. Of course whatever M needs, but still. We were doing so good. David calls me at work asking me to meet him at the pedi office later in the morning. Now, she has added wheezing, a low-grade temp, and coughing up blood to the mix. Great. Just f%*()$% great.
Off to the pedi we go. First - the good news. She weighed 16lbs 6oz! Ok, so 3-4 oz of that were clothes and diaper, but still, she's over 16lbs! That was my lofty goal for her by her birthday. Now, the bad news. 99.6* temp. Not "officially" a fever, but M's norm is around 98.0. They ordered an aspirate. Of course, now she won't cough anything up. No doubt about it - she's my kid. We are back on antibiotics and a nebulizer pending aspirate results. And if it comes back e. coli again, we really need to give surgery the go.
Fast forward to the afternoon. Aspirate needed to be redone. Was too thick and dry by the time it hit the lab. So Nana and I took her in to CH. I actually made it through the lobby without recognizing anyone! Again, small miracles. Once we finally got into the lab room, I was glad to see that RT Heather was going to do the test. She is awesome. She really talked me through being present for one of M's first self-extubating episodes in the NICU. Very competent and calming. Willing to talk. What I needed. We were debating going to the ER, as Heather mentioned something about her breathing fast. She was starting to retract more than usual. But I chose to wait. Of course, I'm now waiting to see at what time we'll have to head in tonight, but anyway.
So now we wait for the call some time tomorrow. The sooner the better please.
OYA 3/15
A small success in an otherwise AWFUL situation.
We both made it through the night. At this point, I was thanking God for small miracles. The nurses overnight were nice - they'd let me listen to her heartbeat on the doppler whenever I wanted. They were surprised they could find it on the monitors as well. Most of the time, they said, it's hard to find on the monitors until at least 24-26 weeks. I took that as a sign. Her heart was too big, beating too loudly, to be silenced just yet.
Perinate Doc F came in that morning. Ok, the surgery was a go. Just pray that my water didn't break during surgery. If it did, I would probably never get to see my girl. We called in yet another chaplin to pray over us. Please God, let this work. Please give her a chance. And I was rolled down the hall.
I don't remember being in the recovery room, other than this excruciating pain and not being able to breath. You know that Bill Cosby joke about childbirth being like taking your bottom lip and pulling if over your head? Well, that's what I felt like happened. Come to find out that Doc F really had to work some magic to get the cerclage in successfully. There was little, if any, cervix to work with. But she did it. I hated her Saturday, and I loved her today.
I had a hard time breathing all day and night. After dealing with a rookie (aka pretty crappy) nurse that night, we discovered that my throat was incredibly swollen. My epiglottis felt like it was the size of a nickel. If I lay wrong, it occluded my airway. Joy. At least I knew there was something going on - it just wasn't a crazy mom a tthe end of her rope.
I spent the rest of the day just lying there, trying to make the time and days pass quickly. So I slept a lot. And I could sleep (partially thanks to meds) since I was now lying flat! Not inverted anymore! Again, small miracles. I never thought we'd get here.
We both made it through the night. At this point, I was thanking God for small miracles. The nurses overnight were nice - they'd let me listen to her heartbeat on the doppler whenever I wanted. They were surprised they could find it on the monitors as well. Most of the time, they said, it's hard to find on the monitors until at least 24-26 weeks. I took that as a sign. Her heart was too big, beating too loudly, to be silenced just yet.
Perinate Doc F came in that morning. Ok, the surgery was a go. Just pray that my water didn't break during surgery. If it did, I would probably never get to see my girl. We called in yet another chaplin to pray over us. Please God, let this work. Please give her a chance. And I was rolled down the hall.
I don't remember being in the recovery room, other than this excruciating pain and not being able to breath. You know that Bill Cosby joke about childbirth being like taking your bottom lip and pulling if over your head? Well, that's what I felt like happened. Come to find out that Doc F really had to work some magic to get the cerclage in successfully. There was little, if any, cervix to work with. But she did it. I hated her Saturday, and I loved her today.
I had a hard time breathing all day and night. After dealing with a rookie (aka pretty crappy) nurse that night, we discovered that my throat was incredibly swollen. My epiglottis felt like it was the size of a nickel. If I lay wrong, it occluded my airway. Joy. At least I knew there was something going on - it just wasn't a crazy mom a tthe end of her rope.
I spent the rest of the day just lying there, trying to make the time and days pass quickly. So I slept a lot. And I could sleep (partially thanks to meds) since I was now lying flat! Not inverted anymore! Again, small miracles. I never thought we'd get here.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
OYA 3/14
I really don't wanna do this. But Maryn deserves it.
Woke up to Doc H coming in for"the" exam. Fun! And it even included cotton swabs since there was so much blood. Then things started happening so fast I don't know what happened first. I got an IV and catheter quickly. They tipped my bed about 30* so I was on my head, so to speak. I was ordered to not get up AT ALL. FOR ANY REASON. Doc H was at my right side. I was basically fully dialated and effaced. She could see Punkin's feet. I chuckled. So not the appropriate thing to do, because deep down I KNEW that was bad, really bad. I guess it was one of those nervous reactions. Plus, it ment that Punkin was still hanging in there. For the time being, SHE was ok.
But would that last? Doc H was very calm, but I could see the worry in her eyes. I could deliver at any moment. If my water broke, I may not even have time to call a nurse in. And it was too early. Punkin wouldn't have a chance. None.
Doc H was going to have a perinatologist come up. If she thought it was feasible, and I wanted it, they might be able to try an emergency cerclage if the inverting me made my bag of waters recede. That had a bunch of risks in and of itself, but if it worked, it might buy us enough time. I had 3 options - let nature take its course, see if just strict bedrest would do the trick, or try the surgery. I asked Doc H what she would do. She just held my hand and said "I wouldn't do what most moms would do. I know too much." To this day, I don't really understand what that ment. I do know that I trusted her. She was also going to call Doc K and update him, even though it was supposed to be his weekend off.
Neo Doc K came in to see me. Immediately, I couldn't stand him. He was giving me the most awful news. If Punkin was born now, there was nothing they could do. We would just hold her and keep her comfortable until she died. If they even tried, she'd be in too much pain. That was the LAST thing I wanted. God forbid I lose my daughter, but just the thought of putting her through useless pain just to ease mine was sheer torture. I can't even put my feelings at that point into words. I hated him for saying all of this. I hated the pregnant people across the hall. I hated the nurses for not being able to do anything. I hated myself for not doing something different. I hated everyone.
If we could get to 23 weeks gestation, her chances weren't good, but she might have one. Most babies born at that point have serious, sometimes life-long problems. If Neo Doc K felt that the parents understood what that ment, he would try to save the baby. If we could make it to 24 weeks, that was better. Every single minute counted. One minute, one hour, one day, could make all the difference for the life of my daughter. Dear God, please just let me get to 23 weeks.
Perinatologist Doc F came in and examined me. It wasn't looking good. She again gave me my options. What was I supposed to do? Why delay the inevitable? But I had to give my baby girl a chance. I couldn't just give up on her. On us both. I said no to "nature." I said no to "wait and see." When she mentioned that we might be able to just terminate the pregnancy since she wasn't viable, I got angry. I told her that while I realize she might be legally required to tell me that, she was NEVER to mention that around me again. Period. I am pro-life. In all cases. This just strengthened my belief.
So we were going to cross our fingers and pray that we both made it to tomorrow morning. If we did, they'd try the surgery. I refused to be alone. If she was born and died before the morning, I needed some other person to be able to recognize that she was here. That she existed.
In hind-sight, I realize that no one thought we'd make it through the day. Every single medical person who came in had that look of doom on their face. Pity? Maybe. "I'm so glad it's not me?" Definitely. I can't blame them, but it was so awful. I was completely alone. I had failed. My 3rd time trying to become a mom, and I screwed this one up too. I was letting everyone down. David, my parents, my sisters, Jaime, but most of all my Punkin. Why was I doing this to her? I doubt I'll ever have that answer, and I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive myself.
Woke up to Doc H coming in for"the" exam. Fun! And it even included cotton swabs since there was so much blood. Then things started happening so fast I don't know what happened first. I got an IV and catheter quickly. They tipped my bed about 30* so I was on my head, so to speak. I was ordered to not get up AT ALL. FOR ANY REASON. Doc H was at my right side. I was basically fully dialated and effaced. She could see Punkin's feet. I chuckled. So not the appropriate thing to do, because deep down I KNEW that was bad, really bad. I guess it was one of those nervous reactions. Plus, it ment that Punkin was still hanging in there. For the time being, SHE was ok.
But would that last? Doc H was very calm, but I could see the worry in her eyes. I could deliver at any moment. If my water broke, I may not even have time to call a nurse in. And it was too early. Punkin wouldn't have a chance. None.
Doc H was going to have a perinatologist come up. If she thought it was feasible, and I wanted it, they might be able to try an emergency cerclage if the inverting me made my bag of waters recede. That had a bunch of risks in and of itself, but if it worked, it might buy us enough time. I had 3 options - let nature take its course, see if just strict bedrest would do the trick, or try the surgery. I asked Doc H what she would do. She just held my hand and said "I wouldn't do what most moms would do. I know too much." To this day, I don't really understand what that ment. I do know that I trusted her. She was also going to call Doc K and update him, even though it was supposed to be his weekend off.
Neo Doc K came in to see me. Immediately, I couldn't stand him. He was giving me the most awful news. If Punkin was born now, there was nothing they could do. We would just hold her and keep her comfortable until she died. If they even tried, she'd be in too much pain. That was the LAST thing I wanted. God forbid I lose my daughter, but just the thought of putting her through useless pain just to ease mine was sheer torture. I can't even put my feelings at that point into words. I hated him for saying all of this. I hated the pregnant people across the hall. I hated the nurses for not being able to do anything. I hated myself for not doing something different. I hated everyone.
If we could get to 23 weeks gestation, her chances weren't good, but she might have one. Most babies born at that point have serious, sometimes life-long problems. If Neo Doc K felt that the parents understood what that ment, he would try to save the baby. If we could make it to 24 weeks, that was better. Every single minute counted. One minute, one hour, one day, could make all the difference for the life of my daughter. Dear God, please just let me get to 23 weeks.
Perinatologist Doc F came in and examined me. It wasn't looking good. She again gave me my options. What was I supposed to do? Why delay the inevitable? But I had to give my baby girl a chance. I couldn't just give up on her. On us both. I said no to "nature." I said no to "wait and see." When she mentioned that we might be able to just terminate the pregnancy since she wasn't viable, I got angry. I told her that while I realize she might be legally required to tell me that, she was NEVER to mention that around me again. Period. I am pro-life. In all cases. This just strengthened my belief.
So we were going to cross our fingers and pray that we both made it to tomorrow morning. If we did, they'd try the surgery. I refused to be alone. If she was born and died before the morning, I needed some other person to be able to recognize that she was here. That she existed.
In hind-sight, I realize that no one thought we'd make it through the day. Every single medical person who came in had that look of doom on their face. Pity? Maybe. "I'm so glad it's not me?" Definitely. I can't blame them, but it was so awful. I was completely alone. I had failed. My 3rd time trying to become a mom, and I screwed this one up too. I was letting everyone down. David, my parents, my sisters, Jaime, but most of all my Punkin. Why was I doing this to her? I doubt I'll ever have that answer, and I doubt I'll ever be able to forgive myself.
Saturday, March 13, 2010
OYA 3/13
I was never superstitious, but I can now attest to despising Friday the 13ths.
I gave in and called Doc K late morning. Same old, same old. Still cramping, but nothing regular. Still spotting just the same. "Blah, blah, blah, I'm cramping and spotting again. I'll take it easy, drink water and put my feet up when I can. Let me know if there is anything else you'd like me to do." And I went on with my day.
Later in the afternoon, I heard back from Doc K's PA. She said that with my history of the previa, I might just want to go in and get checked out. Great. Just how I wanted to spend my Friday night. Ugh. But the good little patient obliged, and David and I headed to Methodist.
After putting the monitors on and answering the same standard questions, I sat there. Nothing regular or overly strong in the way of contractions, so after a few hours, they sent me home. Strict instructions to follow up with Doc K on Monday and stay hydrated. As they put it, if your pee is at all yellow, you're teetering on the verge of dehydration. I was supposed to drink something like 90oz of water a day. Fun! I already felt like I was about to float away, plus nothing else could fit in my abdomen.
An hour or two after getting home, I felt a gush. Just blood - whew! If it was my water breaking, I know that would be bad. But this still was more than I was used to. I told David that I just felt off. Something wasn't right, but I couldn't put my finger on it. So another call to the doc. Doc H was on call. Even though I had never met her, she was pretty nice, considering. Head back in, and she'd check on me in the morning. I'd be in overnight. Double yay. So back we went. Nurse Alexa must have thought I was looney. She just discharged me a few hours earlier. Back on the monitors. More questions. Fun having strangers checking out the blood oozing out of your body. So I grabbed my book to try to keep myself occupied. I figured I wasn't going to get much sleep - you know, hospital rest. Doc would probably make me stop working, but I'd be home by tomorrow afternoon.
I gave in and called Doc K late morning. Same old, same old. Still cramping, but nothing regular. Still spotting just the same. "Blah, blah, blah, I'm cramping and spotting again. I'll take it easy, drink water and put my feet up when I can. Let me know if there is anything else you'd like me to do." And I went on with my day.
Later in the afternoon, I heard back from Doc K's PA. She said that with my history of the previa, I might just want to go in and get checked out. Great. Just how I wanted to spend my Friday night. Ugh. But the good little patient obliged, and David and I headed to Methodist.
After putting the monitors on and answering the same standard questions, I sat there. Nothing regular or overly strong in the way of contractions, so after a few hours, they sent me home. Strict instructions to follow up with Doc K on Monday and stay hydrated. As they put it, if your pee is at all yellow, you're teetering on the verge of dehydration. I was supposed to drink something like 90oz of water a day. Fun! I already felt like I was about to float away, plus nothing else could fit in my abdomen.
An hour or two after getting home, I felt a gush. Just blood - whew! If it was my water breaking, I know that would be bad. But this still was more than I was used to. I told David that I just felt off. Something wasn't right, but I couldn't put my finger on it. So another call to the doc. Doc H was on call. Even though I had never met her, she was pretty nice, considering. Head back in, and she'd check on me in the morning. I'd be in overnight. Double yay. So back we went. Nurse Alexa must have thought I was looney. She just discharged me a few hours earlier. Back on the monitors. More questions. Fun having strangers checking out the blood oozing out of your body. So I grabbed my book to try to keep myself occupied. I figured I wasn't going to get much sleep - you know, hospital rest. Doc would probably make me stop working, but I'd be home by tomorrow afternoon.
Friday, March 12, 2010
OYA 3/12
I'd been feeling off, but what was new? I was 22 weeks pregnant. I felt huge, my back was sore and I was still spotting on and off. This wasn't anything new, but I always called my doc when it started back up. It all started around 13 weeks, when they discovered I had a partial previa. I was put on "bedrest" at home for a few days then told I could go back to work as long as I took it easy. God bless one of the Spanish teacher who agreed to give me her room so I wouldn't have to trapse everything from room to room. Leigh, I love you! I was in for the 20 week ultrasound about 2 weeks prior. What they could see looked fine, but Punkin was being a stinker, so the tech couldn't get a good shot of her heart or be 100% on "the goods," so we scheduled another u/s for 3/30.
I was taking it easy with my students. Thank GOD for giving me a student teacher. Amanda was taking care of most of my classes at the middle school. I was sitting at my desk, rubbing my HUGE belly. I took my first "belly shot" of this pregnancy the day before. I looked as big now as I did with Jaime at 34 weeks! Yikes! I was noticing contractions on and off. Again, nothing new. So, like a good little preggo, I was watching the clock. No more than 4 an hour. I even was writing down the times so I could watch for any sort of pattern. Nada. At least nothing I could sense. I figured I'd call the doc tomorrow if it continued. After all, if I called now, they'd tell me to put my feet up and drink a bunch of water and take it easy. I was basically doing that right now from my chair. If I only knew....
I was taking it easy with my students. Thank GOD for giving me a student teacher. Amanda was taking care of most of my classes at the middle school. I was sitting at my desk, rubbing my HUGE belly. I took my first "belly shot" of this pregnancy the day before. I looked as big now as I did with Jaime at 34 weeks! Yikes! I was noticing contractions on and off. Again, nothing new. So, like a good little preggo, I was watching the clock. No more than 4 an hour. I even was writing down the times so I could watch for any sort of pattern. Nada. At least nothing I could sense. I figured I'd call the doc tomorrow if it continued. After all, if I called now, they'd tell me to put my feet up and drink a bunch of water and take it easy. I was basically doing that right now from my chair. If I only knew....
Thursday, March 11, 2010
Clinic today
Maryn had her aerodigestive clinic appointment today. Nurses, therapists, and doctors, OH MY. Papa and Auntie Amy took her, but I was able to make it for a few minutes.
Pulmonology is happy with the status quo, especially since she's coming off her oxygen. But she wants to put the g-button back on the table. Seriously.
Gastro is adding another med to the repertoire to try and curb the spitting. G-button and fundo talk as well.
Speech and OT want us to continue encouraging oral stimulation. They suggested putting a bit of her food on some of her durable toys. She is really starting to explore things orally, but only on her terms. If anyone else tries to put something in her mouth, we get head-throwing and back-arching to the nth degree. Good chance of never going back to the bottle. When/if she starts feeding orally again, we might just go straight to a sippy cup.
ENT wants another bronch. If the narrowing is still beneath her vocal cords, he may "balloon" it open to see if that helps. But she will still be trached for, at the minumum, another 6 months. (Honestly, I don't see de-cannulating her being a realistic possibility at all this calendar year.)
They said they might be able to coordinate the bronch/balloon thing with a g-button. That is good, because I don't want to put her under more than necessary. And after all, odds are we will be back in for a shunt revision some time this year too. We would be inpatient for a day or two. I guess I thought I'd be more upset about said prospects, but so far I'm ok with it. Maybe I've just resigned myself to the necessity of it all. Maybe it seems better now that docs at least gave her a chance to improve first, instead of just saying "cut" right off the bat. I don't know. But it looks like we'll be crashing the party at Children's in the not-too-distant future.
Pulmonology is happy with the status quo, especially since she's coming off her oxygen. But she wants to put the g-button back on the table. Seriously.
Gastro is adding another med to the repertoire to try and curb the spitting. G-button and fundo talk as well.
Speech and OT want us to continue encouraging oral stimulation. They suggested putting a bit of her food on some of her durable toys. She is really starting to explore things orally, but only on her terms. If anyone else tries to put something in her mouth, we get head-throwing and back-arching to the nth degree. Good chance of never going back to the bottle. When/if she starts feeding orally again, we might just go straight to a sippy cup.
ENT wants another bronch. If the narrowing is still beneath her vocal cords, he may "balloon" it open to see if that helps. But she will still be trached for, at the minumum, another 6 months. (Honestly, I don't see de-cannulating her being a realistic possibility at all this calendar year.)
They said they might be able to coordinate the bronch/balloon thing with a g-button. That is good, because I don't want to put her under more than necessary. And after all, odds are we will be back in for a shunt revision some time this year too. We would be inpatient for a day or two. I guess I thought I'd be more upset about said prospects, but so far I'm ok with it. Maybe I've just resigned myself to the necessity of it all. Maybe it seems better now that docs at least gave her a chance to improve first, instead of just saying "cut" right off the bat. I don't know. But it looks like we'll be crashing the party at Children's in the not-too-distant future.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
In honor
Searching for the blessings through it all.
I know that despite all the tough days ahead, I am one of the lucky ones. Somehow, God let us stave off delivery until Maryn had a chance, then He guided her through the darkest of days. While I may lament the situation, I rejoice over my beautiful girl.
Here's to remembering all the moms that had to say goodbye to their early-bird angels:
Yusra and Ameerah
Melissa and Austin
Melissa and Kensi
Reba and Malachi and Abernathy
Tia and Jane
I know that despite all the tough days ahead, I am one of the lucky ones. Somehow, God let us stave off delivery until Maryn had a chance, then He guided her through the darkest of days. While I may lament the situation, I rejoice over my beautiful girl.
Here's to remembering all the moms that had to say goodbye to their early-bird angels:
Yusra and Ameerah
Melissa and Austin
Melissa and Kensi
Reba and Malachi and Abernathy
Tia and Jane
Monday, March 8, 2010
Seeing the spiral
And I don't like it. Not one bit.
Ok, so last week sucked. David had foot surgery. Work was hell. I felt like $hit (still do). And I'd swear if I didn't know better that something took over my mind. Today, it hit me. We are almost to the one year mark from when I was hospitalized.
I thought maybe it would come and go without much ado. But I feared a major freak-out. And I can see that approaching. I knew it was coming up, but the panic is just now setting in. I can't breathe, yet I feel like I'm hyperventilating. My head is spinning. I can't concentrate. How do I deal? After talking with a few people, I've decided that the big shin-dig I was going to do for M's birthday has to wait. Maybe until her due date or going home date. Maybe cancelling any thing big would keep me sane. Guess not.
How do I deal with knowing that one year ago, very possibly at this exact moment, I was having silent contractions that would forever change my daughter's life? I should have done something. I should have called the doctor earlier. I should have stayed home. I am her mommy, but I couldn't protect her. She is paying for whatever I did for failed to do. I pray that none of you will ever know that feeling.
Ok, so last week sucked. David had foot surgery. Work was hell. I felt like $hit (still do). And I'd swear if I didn't know better that something took over my mind. Today, it hit me. We are almost to the one year mark from when I was hospitalized.
I thought maybe it would come and go without much ado. But I feared a major freak-out. And I can see that approaching. I knew it was coming up, but the panic is just now setting in. I can't breathe, yet I feel like I'm hyperventilating. My head is spinning. I can't concentrate. How do I deal? After talking with a few people, I've decided that the big shin-dig I was going to do for M's birthday has to wait. Maybe until her due date or going home date. Maybe cancelling any thing big would keep me sane. Guess not.
How do I deal with knowing that one year ago, very possibly at this exact moment, I was having silent contractions that would forever change my daughter's life? I should have done something. I should have called the doctor earlier. I should have stayed home. I am her mommy, but I couldn't protect her. She is paying for whatever I did for failed to do. I pray that none of you will ever know that feeling.
Wednesday, March 3, 2010
Happy Anniversary to Nana and Papa
Let it be known that my awesome parents have now been married for 37 years! And they are both still alive and in one piece. For the most part. :) They are both probably fighting over Papa's lap right now.
Maryn's had quite a week. In a good way though. She's still off O2 during the day, and now we've been able to get through quite a few nights withou it too. You have no idea how nice that is. I can deal with the trach, but that damn oxygen always just sat there like the smelly kid in class. I hate it. With a passion. Don't know why, but I do. So not having to trapse big blue around the house or worry about tubes getting caught is so freeing. So much so that she and I went on a little field trip to the mall last weekend. I went mostly because 1) we could!!! and 2) Maryn desperately needed long-sleeved onesies that fit. The kid is growing. 3 month ones no longer fit unless I want to torture her with a diaper wedgie. Umm, no. She was all wide-eyed, checking everything out. I like to think she was thinking "whoa, so many people! Last time I saw this many people in one place was the last time I pulled my ET tube out!" She got a chance to see Papa who was working and meet a coworker of Aunt Carrie's. But of course, I found a whopping ONE shirt for her. Dude, I know that the stores are getting ready for the spring. But it's still frickin' cold out! And we live in Nebraska! Gimme long sleeves too please! For crying out loud.
And she was introduced to Jaime's rainforest jumper. I kept thinking about it, but I thought she wouldn't have enough head control. Boy, was I wrong. I got a picture/video from our nurse last week. The kid LOVED it. She will play in there for hours if we let her. Her tiny little feet barely touch the ground, but she doesn't care. She just kicks away. I think she likes that when she makes it bounce, it plays music too. She also grabs on to the toys. With both hands. People, that's a HUGE deal. One of these years I'll figure out how to post pics here and share with ya.
J is still trying to walk. I can tell we are gonna be in for it once he finally gets the courage. I figure he'll be iffy about it for a total of two days, then watch out world. If we don't move fast enough for him, he'll grab the walker and try to start down the hall on his own. Back and forth. Boy, am I glad I'm short. Otherwise helping him walk that much would really be killing my back. Last night, he even gave himself kisses in the mirror at the end of the hall. Yes, I have drool spots on it now. But it was so sweet I don't have the heart to clean it up just yet!
Maryn's had quite a week. In a good way though. She's still off O2 during the day, and now we've been able to get through quite a few nights withou it too. You have no idea how nice that is. I can deal with the trach, but that damn oxygen always just sat there like the smelly kid in class. I hate it. With a passion. Don't know why, but I do. So not having to trapse big blue around the house or worry about tubes getting caught is so freeing. So much so that she and I went on a little field trip to the mall last weekend. I went mostly because 1) we could!!! and 2) Maryn desperately needed long-sleeved onesies that fit. The kid is growing. 3 month ones no longer fit unless I want to torture her with a diaper wedgie. Umm, no. She was all wide-eyed, checking everything out. I like to think she was thinking "whoa, so many people! Last time I saw this many people in one place was the last time I pulled my ET tube out!" She got a chance to see Papa who was working and meet a coworker of Aunt Carrie's. But of course, I found a whopping ONE shirt for her. Dude, I know that the stores are getting ready for the spring. But it's still frickin' cold out! And we live in Nebraska! Gimme long sleeves too please! For crying out loud.
And she was introduced to Jaime's rainforest jumper. I kept thinking about it, but I thought she wouldn't have enough head control. Boy, was I wrong. I got a picture/video from our nurse last week. The kid LOVED it. She will play in there for hours if we let her. Her tiny little feet barely touch the ground, but she doesn't care. She just kicks away. I think she likes that when she makes it bounce, it plays music too. She also grabs on to the toys. With both hands. People, that's a HUGE deal. One of these years I'll figure out how to post pics here and share with ya.
J is still trying to walk. I can tell we are gonna be in for it once he finally gets the courage. I figure he'll be iffy about it for a total of two days, then watch out world. If we don't move fast enough for him, he'll grab the walker and try to start down the hall on his own. Back and forth. Boy, am I glad I'm short. Otherwise helping him walk that much would really be killing my back. Last night, he even gave himself kisses in the mirror at the end of the hall. Yes, I have drool spots on it now. But it was so sweet I don't have the heart to clean it up just yet!
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