OK, as I sit here at almoxt midnight I am thinking to myself, you should seriously be asleep by now and not still on the internet, namely on facebook and reading the blogs that I follow.
Perhaps this is why I haven't read a book for my book club in over 8 months?? I say I have no time, but I do get some free time, even with a 5 month old(I am not saying it is a lot, but still), and yet I still manage to never finish a book on time for book club.
This couldn't have anything to do with the SEVENTEEN magazine subscriptions I currently have or for the close to TWENTY programs I have to TiVo weekly. And it most certainly has nothing to do with the approximately 20-30 hours per week I spend online just fooling around either.
Right, I will just keep telling myself this to make myself feel better.
I am not going to even get started on my addiction to Gymboree or even clothes for a certain 5 month old knockout altogether.
Last night I went and had my hair colored, highlighted and cut, like i do every 6 weeks, and I get a whole 3 HOURS to myself to read said magazines mentioned above. After I went in to Gymboree because they are starting their "circle of friends" discount today. That's 30% off everything for those of you that don't know these things. I needed to be in there like I need a hole in the head. Of course i found about 10 more outfits that I just HAVE to have for G. The only thing I feel good about when it comes to this addiction is that I can either give it to friends or family or sell it on ebay after.
And let's not even get into what I bought at Along Came A Spider, a very chic child's boutique here in Vegas.
I know one thing is true, people always told me when you have a baby you tend to do everything for them, including buy things when you go out shopping. I don't really buy clothes for me anymore, except for the 3 full shopping bags I took home a few weeks ago. If you can't tell my sarcasm, that was it...
OK, now I really must get off the computer and get to bed before I am trying to make G watch Sesame Street while in his jumparoo in the a.m. so I can doze while he watches, because I can already tell he hates it when I do that!!
Oh, and did I mention my IPod addiction?? I'll save that for another day...
11/2/08
An early Thanksgiving.....
I am in a bit of a reflective mood tonight as I sit here and ponder how fortunate I am. I just tucked my sweet baby boy into bed and watched him stare at his new crib toy. He rolled over for the first(and second) time yesterday, so I figured today was as good a day as any to take his bumper pads out of his crib. Since they're a SIDS risk, and he can now move and bury his face into them, I decided I had better get them out. I bought him the Fisher-Price ocean wonders aquarium, so Eric hooked it onto the crib siderails. When I turned it on for him tonight he just stared at it, as if he was in a daze. He didn't even take his pacifier, and he always takes it for sleep. I left the room and haven't heard a peep out of him since.
It's a beautiful fall night, crisp cool air, clear sky, lots of stars and a bright moon. My favorite kind of night, and fall is definitely my favorite season. As I looked up at the beautiful sky at the stars and the moon, I said the "star light, star bright, first star I see tonight" prayer. My prayer this evening was that God continue to bring Stacy and Spencer some kind of comfort and healing, and to bring them something truly wonderful, and sooner rather than later if possible.
I don't even know Stacy and Spencer, but I follow Stacy's blog, and their story haunts me, I just can't seem to forget them, or their sweet baby boy(who is no longer on this earth). The blog is under my list of blogs I follow, titled He Will Carry Me, in case anyone wants to read it.
Every single time I get frustrated, or am really exhausted, or wish I could just get a moment to myself to pay a bill, call a friend, or even take a shower, all I have to do to remind myself of how blessed I am is think of Stacy and Spencer. And I do this, so often. The first night I ever stumbled upon the blog Stacy writes was a really awful night for me. Eric was working, and Gehrig cried for about 4 hours straight. He was sick from getting all of his 4 month vaccines(even though being a pediatric RN and Eric being an ER doctor told both of us that babies don't get sick from vaccines-yeah right, they do). It's really just a heightened immune response that happens, and a fever may develop, they may be sore at the injection site, and could have some aches or joint pain. I gave him Tylenol every 4 hours, not the dose on the bottle, but the REAL dose you can give infants, based on their weight(that I know from work and the bottle doesn't tell you). By the 3rd hour of G's crying, I was on my reserved nerve. I was getting so annoyed and just really wished he'd fall asleep, mostly for his sake, but definitely for me too. So I was reading a friend's blog, and she had made a reference to Stacy and Spencer, and so I clicked on the link, and proceeded to read the ENTIRE blog.
I then sobbed and sobbed, and I went and picked up my little cranky sick boy, and I just held him so close to me. I must have cried and rocked him for a good hour, and he fell asleep. I begged God to forgive me for being short tempered with my little guy, how could I be so ungrateful when there are people out there suffering so much, and would do just anything to hold their child for one more minute? I felt horrible.
I was telling my mom of this the next day, and she reminded me that it was completely normal to get frustrated once in a while. New moms from here to the North Pole would probably agree, some days are really frustrating, it's not that you don't love your baby, it's just that one can only take so much. I guess I agree, but it wasn't that long ago that I was still going through IVF. I prayed and prayed to God to give me a child. I used to say "if I could just have ONE baby, I'd...." In essence, bargaining, which you aren't supposed to do with God, although I am sure many do it. It always made me sick that people could have children and abuse them or neglect them, when I so badly wanted one and could not have one. I always wondered, how does that work, why do THEY get to have kids and be horrible to them, while someone like me or Eric(who would just adore a child) gets all the hurdles to jump over or hoops to jump through? Why is God doing this to us?
I have been a Catholic all my life, although really only started truly practicing in the last 12 years or so. I never made my confirmation when I was in Jr. high school like the rest of my friends, I made it at the age of 21, and it was my decision to do so. It was around the time I really started getting sick and always being in the hospital that I really needed to have a higher power to turn to, to ask to heal me, and to have faith in that things would get better. My mom and I started going to mass every Sunday for quite a long time, and I started to go and talk to my priest on a regular basis too. I definitely can say that I questioned God's plan for me and that there even was One over the last 2 years when I was trying so hard to conceive. And according to strict Catholic belief, pursuing IVF was not natural and I shouldn't be doing it. I even asked my priest about this, and he said that he actually believed that God would not have made scientists discover that IVF works if He hadn't meant for people to use it. Thank God for that, now I could continue, guilt free.
When we first found out I was pregnant, we really thanked God and I was just so excited I could barely contain it. About 10 days later we found out that the 2 embryos we had transferred not only had both implanted, but one had split, so just the very situation we were trying to avoid had happened, we were carrying triplets. I couldn't believe my bad luck. I thought to myself, "is this some kind of sick joke?", and "is God really trying to test me?" There was NO POSSIBLE WAY I was going to have selective reduction(in essence, abortion of one of the fetuses). At the same time I KNEW my perinatologist(high risk OB doctor), Dr. Adashek was never going to go for me having triplets. It was going to be enough of a medical nightmare for him(and me) to even have one baby. Again, Thank God that I didn't have to make that decision, the next time I went for an ultrasound, 1 week later, one of the babies had never developed a heart beat, so I was left with twins. This was way more manageable, still not ideal but manageable.
Sadly, at 13 weeks. 4 days, my other identical twin lost it's heartbeat, and I was left with one strong, healthy baby. I was honestly sad and devastated by this, but knew at the same time, that it was going to make my pregnancy that much easier, and would likely ensure that my singleton would be born without complications(to him, not me). Now I think of my son's identical twin siblings all the time, as my angelbabies in Heaven, and as Gehrig's guardian angels. I know that they watched over him after his birth and watched over me after giving birth, and were the angels that guarded me from dying when I got so sick after having G. They knew I had a baby here that needed me, and they carried me through all the hard times.
So when I find myself feeling a little bit down, just like any new mom does from time to time, all I have to do is think of Stacy and Spencer, and think about what she wouldn't give to hold her little boy for just one minute more. I know I may be being hard on myself, as every mom feels sad or frustrated or exhausted at one point. It's just that I get really mad at myself when I feel anything but grateful, or joyful, or humbled by what I have been given.
So that very first night I stumbled on to the blog, I believe it was a sign, maybe my guardian angels or even God himself whispering to me, "slow down", or "think about everything you have", and I really needed that that night. I needed to be knocked down a few notches, to be put in my place and made to realize that I was damn lucky and that things can always be 100 times worse. I really try to remember this every day, and I try to always be mindful of how fortunate I am. I am lucky to have a beautiful, healthy baby boy, I am lucky to have such a wonderful family and the best friends anyone could ever have. I am lucky to have a roof over my head and food in my pantry. I am lucky to be able to put gas in my car or to be able to go out once in a while for some "me time" or a "date night" with my husband(who I am also SO lucky to have).
My grandmother recently found out that she has 3 aneurysms on her brain, and last Tuesday underwent a craniotomy to tie off the aneurysms. (that is where they have to remove the bone plate from the skull, and go into the brain to tie off the aneurysm). She is 73 and in general good health, but we all were very worried nonetheless. I knew she'd be ok(first because Eric told me she would and second because I know what a fighter she is). Well, she is ok. It is going to be a long road of recovery, with rehab-physical and occupational therapy, home health care nurses coming to her house, and a lot of work on her part to heal and get better, but I really feel she will do just fine.
So as I sat here this evening after I put my gorgeous baby boy to bed, I just looked at the stars in the sky and thought to myself, I have so much to be thankful for this year. God is good. I am so blessed. Not many people can actually say that they take the time to sit down, slow down, and just reflect on how good they have it, but I can, and I do.
So as I go to sleep tonight I'll pray for Stacy and Spencer and anyone else that is suffering a horrific loss, and I will hug my husband a little tighter and thank God for what I DO have.
It's a beautiful fall night, crisp cool air, clear sky, lots of stars and a bright moon. My favorite kind of night, and fall is definitely my favorite season. As I looked up at the beautiful sky at the stars and the moon, I said the "star light, star bright, first star I see tonight" prayer. My prayer this evening was that God continue to bring Stacy and Spencer some kind of comfort and healing, and to bring them something truly wonderful, and sooner rather than later if possible.
I don't even know Stacy and Spencer, but I follow Stacy's blog, and their story haunts me, I just can't seem to forget them, or their sweet baby boy(who is no longer on this earth). The blog is under my list of blogs I follow, titled He Will Carry Me, in case anyone wants to read it.
Every single time I get frustrated, or am really exhausted, or wish I could just get a moment to myself to pay a bill, call a friend, or even take a shower, all I have to do to remind myself of how blessed I am is think of Stacy and Spencer. And I do this, so often. The first night I ever stumbled upon the blog Stacy writes was a really awful night for me. Eric was working, and Gehrig cried for about 4 hours straight. He was sick from getting all of his 4 month vaccines(even though being a pediatric RN and Eric being an ER doctor told both of us that babies don't get sick from vaccines-yeah right, they do). It's really just a heightened immune response that happens, and a fever may develop, they may be sore at the injection site, and could have some aches or joint pain. I gave him Tylenol every 4 hours, not the dose on the bottle, but the REAL dose you can give infants, based on their weight(that I know from work and the bottle doesn't tell you). By the 3rd hour of G's crying, I was on my reserved nerve. I was getting so annoyed and just really wished he'd fall asleep, mostly for his sake, but definitely for me too. So I was reading a friend's blog, and she had made a reference to Stacy and Spencer, and so I clicked on the link, and proceeded to read the ENTIRE blog.
I then sobbed and sobbed, and I went and picked up my little cranky sick boy, and I just held him so close to me. I must have cried and rocked him for a good hour, and he fell asleep. I begged God to forgive me for being short tempered with my little guy, how could I be so ungrateful when there are people out there suffering so much, and would do just anything to hold their child for one more minute? I felt horrible.
I was telling my mom of this the next day, and she reminded me that it was completely normal to get frustrated once in a while. New moms from here to the North Pole would probably agree, some days are really frustrating, it's not that you don't love your baby, it's just that one can only take so much. I guess I agree, but it wasn't that long ago that I was still going through IVF. I prayed and prayed to God to give me a child. I used to say "if I could just have ONE baby, I'd...." In essence, bargaining, which you aren't supposed to do with God, although I am sure many do it. It always made me sick that people could have children and abuse them or neglect them, when I so badly wanted one and could not have one. I always wondered, how does that work, why do THEY get to have kids and be horrible to them, while someone like me or Eric(who would just adore a child) gets all the hurdles to jump over or hoops to jump through? Why is God doing this to us?
I have been a Catholic all my life, although really only started truly practicing in the last 12 years or so. I never made my confirmation when I was in Jr. high school like the rest of my friends, I made it at the age of 21, and it was my decision to do so. It was around the time I really started getting sick and always being in the hospital that I really needed to have a higher power to turn to, to ask to heal me, and to have faith in that things would get better. My mom and I started going to mass every Sunday for quite a long time, and I started to go and talk to my priest on a regular basis too. I definitely can say that I questioned God's plan for me and that there even was One over the last 2 years when I was trying so hard to conceive. And according to strict Catholic belief, pursuing IVF was not natural and I shouldn't be doing it. I even asked my priest about this, and he said that he actually believed that God would not have made scientists discover that IVF works if He hadn't meant for people to use it. Thank God for that, now I could continue, guilt free.
When we first found out I was pregnant, we really thanked God and I was just so excited I could barely contain it. About 10 days later we found out that the 2 embryos we had transferred not only had both implanted, but one had split, so just the very situation we were trying to avoid had happened, we were carrying triplets. I couldn't believe my bad luck. I thought to myself, "is this some kind of sick joke?", and "is God really trying to test me?" There was NO POSSIBLE WAY I was going to have selective reduction(in essence, abortion of one of the fetuses). At the same time I KNEW my perinatologist(high risk OB doctor), Dr. Adashek was never going to go for me having triplets. It was going to be enough of a medical nightmare for him(and me) to even have one baby. Again, Thank God that I didn't have to make that decision, the next time I went for an ultrasound, 1 week later, one of the babies had never developed a heart beat, so I was left with twins. This was way more manageable, still not ideal but manageable.
Sadly, at 13 weeks. 4 days, my other identical twin lost it's heartbeat, and I was left with one strong, healthy baby. I was honestly sad and devastated by this, but knew at the same time, that it was going to make my pregnancy that much easier, and would likely ensure that my singleton would be born without complications(to him, not me). Now I think of my son's identical twin siblings all the time, as my angelbabies in Heaven, and as Gehrig's guardian angels. I know that they watched over him after his birth and watched over me after giving birth, and were the angels that guarded me from dying when I got so sick after having G. They knew I had a baby here that needed me, and they carried me through all the hard times.
So when I find myself feeling a little bit down, just like any new mom does from time to time, all I have to do is think of Stacy and Spencer, and think about what she wouldn't give to hold her little boy for just one minute more. I know I may be being hard on myself, as every mom feels sad or frustrated or exhausted at one point. It's just that I get really mad at myself when I feel anything but grateful, or joyful, or humbled by what I have been given.
So that very first night I stumbled on to the blog, I believe it was a sign, maybe my guardian angels or even God himself whispering to me, "slow down", or "think about everything you have", and I really needed that that night. I needed to be knocked down a few notches, to be put in my place and made to realize that I was damn lucky and that things can always be 100 times worse. I really try to remember this every day, and I try to always be mindful of how fortunate I am. I am lucky to have a beautiful, healthy baby boy, I am lucky to have such a wonderful family and the best friends anyone could ever have. I am lucky to have a roof over my head and food in my pantry. I am lucky to be able to put gas in my car or to be able to go out once in a while for some "me time" or a "date night" with my husband(who I am also SO lucky to have).
My grandmother recently found out that she has 3 aneurysms on her brain, and last Tuesday underwent a craniotomy to tie off the aneurysms. (that is where they have to remove the bone plate from the skull, and go into the brain to tie off the aneurysm). She is 73 and in general good health, but we all were very worried nonetheless. I knew she'd be ok(first because Eric told me she would and second because I know what a fighter she is). Well, she is ok. It is going to be a long road of recovery, with rehab-physical and occupational therapy, home health care nurses coming to her house, and a lot of work on her part to heal and get better, but I really feel she will do just fine.
So as I sat here this evening after I put my gorgeous baby boy to bed, I just looked at the stars in the sky and thought to myself, I have so much to be thankful for this year. God is good. I am so blessed. Not many people can actually say that they take the time to sit down, slow down, and just reflect on how good they have it, but I can, and I do.
So as I go to sleep tonight I'll pray for Stacy and Spencer and anyone else that is suffering a horrific loss, and I will hug my husband a little tighter and thank God for what I DO have.
10/20/08
It's About Time...
I was supposed to start this blog a long time ago, when I got pregnant to be exact. I am a bit of a procrastinator and before I knew it, it was April and I was almost due. I wan't going to start it that late, I would have way too much to write about then. It seemed that it all went by so terribly slow, until April 12th. That was the day I was at my friend Lisa's baby shower and I started bleeding very badly. I went to the hospital and was admitted to Labor & Delivery with a placenta previa bleed, preterm labor, and possible leaking of amniotic fluid. I was 30 weeks to the day when this happened. I remember saying "oh, baby, slow down, you can't come yet. You still have some cooking to do, and we aren't ready for you yet." I cursed the day that I wanted this to be all over. I was extremely swollen, had horrible heartburn and nasal congestion(which I learned is quite common in pregnancy). I hadn't been able to breathe out of my nose since October. I was miserable, and this was putting it lightly. And yet when the time came that I would possibly meet my child 7 weeks earlier than my perinatologist, Dr. Adashek wanted me to, I was terrified. It's kind of funny actually that I had this reaction, as I have tons of experience with premature babies. In my previous life, before IVF and a high risk pregnancy, I was a pediatric nurse. I worked in the NICU(Neonatal Intensive Care Unit), the PICU(Pediatric ICU), and on general pediatric floors, taking care of kids with everything from cancer to dehydration and everything in between. I knew exactly what a 30 week infant looked like, and exactly just what my child would go through and have to overcome before leaving the NICU, and yet I still did not want to meet him that day. As I sat in the "triage room" of the Labor &Delivery floor at Summerlin Hospital alone, I kept bargaining with God that if he would just let my baby stay where he was for a little while longer, I'd do my part to keep him safe inside me. I was alone because Eric was working and he had to get a physician to come in to the ER so he could come and be with me. People are instinctively good when things like this happen, as he actually was by my side no later than 30 minutes after I got there. We were waiting for Dr. Adashek's partner, Dr. Pierce to come in and tell us what was going on and if I was going to likely be meeting my baby any time soon.
She came in and the news was kind of ambiguous. They really "couldn't tell" if it was amniotic fluid that leaked or not. "The litmus test" on the Qtip said it was amniotic fluid, but then the doc told me it could be urine too. "GREAT", I wondered to myself, "what the hell is the point of a test if it isn't definitive"?? The only way we'd know for sure was if she measured my fluid on ultrasound and then measured it again tomorrow, and if it was significantly less, then there was our answer, it was leaking.
Long story short, it wasn't amniotic fluid as it showed the next day. I WAS, however, contracting. I was started on Terbutaline, or as I'd like to better call it, "speed". It is the absolute worst feeling to be on that medication and be so jittery. I had to laugh at the nurses because I was on a fetal monitor, and I had to sit very still, because every time I moved, we lost the tracing of the baby's heart beat. Have you ever tried to stay still on 20 cups of coffee, or on methamphetamines?(just an inference...), IT IS IMPOSSIBLE to stay still on a drug that makes you feel as if you are climbing the walls.At around 5 a.m. 3 nurses rushed into my room, dropped the head of my bed all the way down to flat, put an oxygen mask on me and turned me on to my left side. I was barely awake, so I asked, "does anyone want to tell me what is going on, or should I guess"? My nurse said your baby's heart rate keeps dropping. We have a call in to the doctor and she called and is on her way. Do you know how fun it is to try to breathe with a stuffy nose and lay completely flat? Not fun at all.
Well, she gave me a 50-50 chance I'd deliver that day and said I should call Eric and make sure he has someone to cover him in case he had to get to the hospital fast.
He didn't have to come, and I didn't deliver, I went home on bedrest 3 days later.
Next the funniest thing happened, all preterm labor signs and symptoms stopped. Completely stopped. I got to 35 weeks and I was thinking to myself, it would be ok if I went this early. My son had other plans. I ended up making it to my June 4th due date. When I got admitted that morning for my C-section, my son must have thought he was funny, because I actually went in to labor and contracting every 3 minutes. I guess he was making sure that come hell or high water, he was getting out of my uterus TODAY. I was scheduled for 5 PM, but the doc came to get me at 3:30, saying he would take me then as the lady that was supposed to go before me was going to be a complicated case.
HA HA HA HA! I have to just laugh at the sheer irony of that last statement. Lets just say I wasn't an "easy" case. I was already being operated on in the main OR(not the one on L&D floor) because of all of my surgical risks and complications. Dr. Adashek prepared for every complication. There was a surgeon with him to help with my scar tissue. There was a urologist there to put stents in my ureters so my bladder didn't get cut(again)-which is another LONG story.There was the anesthesiologist, my perinatologist, 2 scrub nurses, one circulating nurse, a nenatologist(NICU doctor), in case the baby got into trouble, and 2 NICU nurses to take the baby right away. They told me they would bring him to the NICU for "transition" and then if he was ok I could have him back with me in my room in the a.m. Eric axtually said that he had never seen that many people in the OR for a routine surgery. I was in good hands.
The anesthesiologist tried 5 times to get my Spinal to work and numb me from the mid-belly down. It never did work, so I had to be put to sleep, thereby missing my son's birth and first cry, and first minutes in the world. I told Eric that no matter what was happening with me, that he was to go with the baby. I said it didn't matter if I was dying, he had to stay with our baby and make sure he was ok. So, I woke to the scrub nurse telling me my baby was perect, healthy, and was just taken to the NICU for some mild fluid in his lungs-par for the course with c-section births.
The next time I woke up Eric was with me, and he was telling me how beautiful or baby was, that he weighed 6 pounds, 11 ounces, and was 19 inches long. Then the recovery room nurse said there was a problem and I was bleeding more than I should be and my uterus was not contracting back down. I spent the next 5 hours being human bread dough, having my uterus kneaded by about 5 people, mind you I have a fresh stapled incision, so that was quite a lot of fun, let me tell you. I ended up getting 2 units of blood, and I never did get to see my baby that night, I never got back to my room until almost midnight, almost 8 hours since i had gone down to the OR with my baby still inside of me. I can not even put into words how unbelievably lonely and sad I felt that night. Most moms feel somewhat sad that they can no longer feel their baby move inside of them, but could counter that with the joy of being able to hold and snuggle with their babies. I didn't get to do that either. He was in the NICU and I was too sick to go to see him.
5 days later my entire world was turned upside down as I was rushed back into the OR for surgery. I had gotten progressively sicker in the days after G's birth. Nobody would listen to me when I kept repeating over and over, "something is wrong here." Even Eric thought I was fine at first, but when I was getting no better, and getting MORE swollen instead of less, my pain was getting worse instaed of better, and I kept needing blood transfusions he started to listen too.
Lo and behold, on June 10th at 2 PM, my incision opened up all on its own, around the staples. My small intestine had perforated. That means there were 3 holes in it. Not a good thing. Thank God Dr Adashek and Dr Simon were able to fix it, without permanent damage. But that doesn't mean that my "perfect birth" ever materialized. It was horrible, I wanted so much for it to be so different, and it sure proved me wrong.
To all of my family and friends, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you did for Eric, my mom, and me during that horrible time. We could not have survived this horrible crisis without the help of everyone of you. For everything from watching G so my mom or Eric could come to see me, coming all the way to the hospital to see me and cheer me up, and just calling every day to see if we needed anything. I really believe that your true friends show up in times of crisis just as much as in calm times, and I know I have a LOT of friends, because the help we got and the care and concern, cards, thoughts and prayers were unbelievable, they are still coming in to this day. I feel very blessed to be ok and still alive, to have my miracle baby, and to have the greatest friends and family a girl could ever hope for.
So I was in the hospital a month, G came home after just a week with my mom and Eric, and I stayed to get better. I was supposed to be having surgery in September again, as closure to all of this stuff, but miraculously, I healed, and will not need surgery again. The doctors were amazed that I healed without the need of the 2nd surgery to close everything up.
So this is why I haven't started my blog before now. I have been just a tad bit busy dealing with the high risk pregnancy at first, then just trying to stay alive so I could be a mom to ny son, and now it's crazy every day here for obvious reasons. I will say that my sweet baby boy is the love of my life, and such an angelbaby. He is always smiling and(now) laughing. He sleeps through the night from 8PM to 7 AM and this morning actually slept until 8 a.m. He also takes 2 or 3 naps a day each being 1-2 hours, so I do have a very easy and good natured baby.
Now if I had a tool that would let me stop stime, I would, just so I could spend all my time loving my baby. I am already so sad that he's almost 5 months old. He is now eating cereal and vegetables, as well as formula. He holds his head up so well and is now standing up on his feet if you hold him that way. He loves his baths and just laughs and laughs at me when I sing "splish splash" by ELMO during his bath. Yes, I am officially a dorky parent, I just downloaded ELMO's greatest hits on to my IPOD so I can sing the songs to him and make him laugh. In my defense, I do have the "rockabye baby" CDs, that are instrumental covers of bands like U2, Coldplay, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles and the Beach Boys. I have the U2 and Coldplay ones and he likes them a lot too.
So I am going to try to keep up on this, keep it updated and current, so please bear with me as it's my 1st blog. Also, please see the links to the other blogs I follow and check out the one titled "I will carry you" or "He will carry you". I forget the exact title, but it's a link of the blogs I follow so you can just click on it. I will warn ahead, it is a tearjerker, but I haven't stopped thinking about Stacy and Spencer, and their son Isaac since I read the whole blog. I think it is important to see things like this and see how well and with such grace it was handled by the parents. I know the other day I was getting frustrated because no matter what I did, G cried. Then I went and read this(from a friends blog link), and it was telling me to take a step back and enjoy the moment you are in now. That means enjoying the good as well as the bad. Well I just wanted everyone to see and read this beautiful story tonight, and to let everyone know that I hugged my child a little bit harder today, and when he slept in his crib, I stood over him and watched his angelic face, then I cried tears of joy that I have him at all, and also tears of sadness for Stacy and Spencer, that they won't get to spend that kind of time with Isaac, They are a true rxample of how to live, how to love and how to endure. I hope that God has some great surprises and treats in store for them, they certainly deserve it.
Nicole
She came in and the news was kind of ambiguous. They really "couldn't tell" if it was amniotic fluid that leaked or not. "The litmus test" on the Qtip said it was amniotic fluid, but then the doc told me it could be urine too. "GREAT", I wondered to myself, "what the hell is the point of a test if it isn't definitive"?? The only way we'd know for sure was if she measured my fluid on ultrasound and then measured it again tomorrow, and if it was significantly less, then there was our answer, it was leaking.
Long story short, it wasn't amniotic fluid as it showed the next day. I WAS, however, contracting. I was started on Terbutaline, or as I'd like to better call it, "speed". It is the absolute worst feeling to be on that medication and be so jittery. I had to laugh at the nurses because I was on a fetal monitor, and I had to sit very still, because every time I moved, we lost the tracing of the baby's heart beat. Have you ever tried to stay still on 20 cups of coffee, or on methamphetamines?(just an inference...), IT IS IMPOSSIBLE to stay still on a drug that makes you feel as if you are climbing the walls.At around 5 a.m. 3 nurses rushed into my room, dropped the head of my bed all the way down to flat, put an oxygen mask on me and turned me on to my left side. I was barely awake, so I asked, "does anyone want to tell me what is going on, or should I guess"? My nurse said your baby's heart rate keeps dropping. We have a call in to the doctor and she called and is on her way. Do you know how fun it is to try to breathe with a stuffy nose and lay completely flat? Not fun at all.
Well, she gave me a 50-50 chance I'd deliver that day and said I should call Eric and make sure he has someone to cover him in case he had to get to the hospital fast.
He didn't have to come, and I didn't deliver, I went home on bedrest 3 days later.
Next the funniest thing happened, all preterm labor signs and symptoms stopped. Completely stopped. I got to 35 weeks and I was thinking to myself, it would be ok if I went this early. My son had other plans. I ended up making it to my June 4th due date. When I got admitted that morning for my C-section, my son must have thought he was funny, because I actually went in to labor and contracting every 3 minutes. I guess he was making sure that come hell or high water, he was getting out of my uterus TODAY. I was scheduled for 5 PM, but the doc came to get me at 3:30, saying he would take me then as the lady that was supposed to go before me was going to be a complicated case.
HA HA HA HA! I have to just laugh at the sheer irony of that last statement. Lets just say I wasn't an "easy" case. I was already being operated on in the main OR(not the one on L&D floor) because of all of my surgical risks and complications. Dr. Adashek prepared for every complication. There was a surgeon with him to help with my scar tissue. There was a urologist there to put stents in my ureters so my bladder didn't get cut(again)-which is another LONG story.There was the anesthesiologist, my perinatologist, 2 scrub nurses, one circulating nurse, a nenatologist(NICU doctor), in case the baby got into trouble, and 2 NICU nurses to take the baby right away. They told me they would bring him to the NICU for "transition" and then if he was ok I could have him back with me in my room in the a.m. Eric axtually said that he had never seen that many people in the OR for a routine surgery. I was in good hands.
The anesthesiologist tried 5 times to get my Spinal to work and numb me from the mid-belly down. It never did work, so I had to be put to sleep, thereby missing my son's birth and first cry, and first minutes in the world. I told Eric that no matter what was happening with me, that he was to go with the baby. I said it didn't matter if I was dying, he had to stay with our baby and make sure he was ok. So, I woke to the scrub nurse telling me my baby was perect, healthy, and was just taken to the NICU for some mild fluid in his lungs-par for the course with c-section births.
The next time I woke up Eric was with me, and he was telling me how beautiful or baby was, that he weighed 6 pounds, 11 ounces, and was 19 inches long. Then the recovery room nurse said there was a problem and I was bleeding more than I should be and my uterus was not contracting back down. I spent the next 5 hours being human bread dough, having my uterus kneaded by about 5 people, mind you I have a fresh stapled incision, so that was quite a lot of fun, let me tell you. I ended up getting 2 units of blood, and I never did get to see my baby that night, I never got back to my room until almost midnight, almost 8 hours since i had gone down to the OR with my baby still inside of me. I can not even put into words how unbelievably lonely and sad I felt that night. Most moms feel somewhat sad that they can no longer feel their baby move inside of them, but could counter that with the joy of being able to hold and snuggle with their babies. I didn't get to do that either. He was in the NICU and I was too sick to go to see him.
5 days later my entire world was turned upside down as I was rushed back into the OR for surgery. I had gotten progressively sicker in the days after G's birth. Nobody would listen to me when I kept repeating over and over, "something is wrong here." Even Eric thought I was fine at first, but when I was getting no better, and getting MORE swollen instead of less, my pain was getting worse instaed of better, and I kept needing blood transfusions he started to listen too.
Lo and behold, on June 10th at 2 PM, my incision opened up all on its own, around the staples. My small intestine had perforated. That means there were 3 holes in it. Not a good thing. Thank God Dr Adashek and Dr Simon were able to fix it, without permanent damage. But that doesn't mean that my "perfect birth" ever materialized. It was horrible, I wanted so much for it to be so different, and it sure proved me wrong.
To all of my family and friends, thank you from the bottom of my heart for all you did for Eric, my mom, and me during that horrible time. We could not have survived this horrible crisis without the help of everyone of you. For everything from watching G so my mom or Eric could come to see me, coming all the way to the hospital to see me and cheer me up, and just calling every day to see if we needed anything. I really believe that your true friends show up in times of crisis just as much as in calm times, and I know I have a LOT of friends, because the help we got and the care and concern, cards, thoughts and prayers were unbelievable, they are still coming in to this day. I feel very blessed to be ok and still alive, to have my miracle baby, and to have the greatest friends and family a girl could ever hope for.
So I was in the hospital a month, G came home after just a week with my mom and Eric, and I stayed to get better. I was supposed to be having surgery in September again, as closure to all of this stuff, but miraculously, I healed, and will not need surgery again. The doctors were amazed that I healed without the need of the 2nd surgery to close everything up.
So this is why I haven't started my blog before now. I have been just a tad bit busy dealing with the high risk pregnancy at first, then just trying to stay alive so I could be a mom to ny son, and now it's crazy every day here for obvious reasons. I will say that my sweet baby boy is the love of my life, and such an angelbaby. He is always smiling and(now) laughing. He sleeps through the night from 8PM to 7 AM and this morning actually slept until 8 a.m. He also takes 2 or 3 naps a day each being 1-2 hours, so I do have a very easy and good natured baby.
Now if I had a tool that would let me stop stime, I would, just so I could spend all my time loving my baby. I am already so sad that he's almost 5 months old. He is now eating cereal and vegetables, as well as formula. He holds his head up so well and is now standing up on his feet if you hold him that way. He loves his baths and just laughs and laughs at me when I sing "splish splash" by ELMO during his bath. Yes, I am officially a dorky parent, I just downloaded ELMO's greatest hits on to my IPOD so I can sing the songs to him and make him laugh. In my defense, I do have the "rockabye baby" CDs, that are instrumental covers of bands like U2, Coldplay, Led Zeppelin, The Beatles and the Beach Boys. I have the U2 and Coldplay ones and he likes them a lot too.
So I am going to try to keep up on this, keep it updated and current, so please bear with me as it's my 1st blog. Also, please see the links to the other blogs I follow and check out the one titled "I will carry you" or "He will carry you". I forget the exact title, but it's a link of the blogs I follow so you can just click on it. I will warn ahead, it is a tearjerker, but I haven't stopped thinking about Stacy and Spencer, and their son Isaac since I read the whole blog. I think it is important to see things like this and see how well and with such grace it was handled by the parents. I know the other day I was getting frustrated because no matter what I did, G cried. Then I went and read this(from a friends blog link), and it was telling me to take a step back and enjoy the moment you are in now. That means enjoying the good as well as the bad. Well I just wanted everyone to see and read this beautiful story tonight, and to let everyone know that I hugged my child a little bit harder today, and when he slept in his crib, I stood over him and watched his angelic face, then I cried tears of joy that I have him at all, and also tears of sadness for Stacy and Spencer, that they won't get to spend that kind of time with Isaac, They are a true rxample of how to live, how to love and how to endure. I hope that God has some great surprises and treats in store for them, they certainly deserve it.
Nicole
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