I'm gonna be real honest and tell you that I'm glad Christmas is over.
I always enjoy celebrating Jesus' birthday, and this time was no different.
But it just felt wrong.
I spent the night with Harper on Christmas Eve.
It was our first year in several that the girls were spending the night with their Dad on Christmas Eve.
I LOVE staying with Harper.....
but our family of 5 slept in 3 different places that night.
And that was heartbreaking.
I enjoy spending the night with Harper even more now since I get to be a part of his bottles when he gets them. Makes me feel like his real Mom!
Right now he gets a bottle every other meal, and the other times it just goes into his tube.
I requested that he get his bottles at 11 & 5 so that every day after work, I can give him his 5 bottle.
This schedule works well for us.
And by the way, he is doing AMAZING with his bottles. Taking almost everything he is given currently. They will probably move him to getting every meal through a bottle soon, and I hope he handles it well. It's just a lot of work for such a little guy! (weighing in at 4 lbs, 13 oz currently.)
Back to Christmas.....
The morning went okay.
It was a little bit lonely but BH and I kept each other company pretty well.
And then FH came to the hospital to hang out with us.
We had cafeteria food for Christmas lunch....not exciting.
Then we were off to get the girls for Christmas with them!
I have now left Harper in my rearview mirror 94 times (give or take a few days when I spent the night)....and not one time has been as difficult as leaving him on Christmas Day.
I just felt like I was abandoning him.
Whose Mom leaves them on Christmas??
I knew it had to be done.
As much as I would have loved to stay in that hospital room all day long (or better yet, sneak him out in my diaper bag), I have to take care of my other kids too.
We enjoyed the rest of the day with family. And it was fun....but only half of my heart was in it.
The rest was laying in a big boy crib and getting fed his bottle by a nurse.
Our nurses are great, but they aren't Mama.
Every single bottle that I miss hurts my heart.
So I enjoyed Christmas.
I appreciate every single bit of the true meaning of the holiday.
And it was a day well spent.
But I'm happy to move past it this year.
Closer to the day that we get to bring BH home.
We are ready whenever you are Harper. :)
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Dec 26, 2013
Dec 23, 2013
Dear NICU Moms.....
Check out my new blog header!!! BH is finally added to the top thanks to my friend Holly!
The other day I was in the elevator at the hospital.
Another young couple was in there and then a Mom and her daughter.
The young couple had a bunch of bags, pillows, and blankets with them.
The Mom made the comment that they looked like they were planning on staying for awhile.
Which, I might add, is a risky comment to make to anyone in a hospital elevator in my opinion.
The couple responded by telling us that their child had been at the hospital for a year, they were discharged only to go home for about 5 minutes and have to come right back because he/she got sick.
And my heart broke for them.
It's not often that I want to hug complete strangers, but I wanted to hug them both.
Can you even imagine?
I can't. Like at all.
This family has since been in my prayers and I would love if you could have them in yours too.
Every time that I see a new baby brought in to the hospital on our floor, I feel the mom's pain.
When I think back to how sick to my stomach I was at BH's first ambulance ride, at leaving the hospital and going to a new one, leaving the nurses that we were familiar with, I am just overwhelmed.
I cried a lot that day and was scared out of my mind.
And each time I see a family that is just starting out on the journey that we have been on for 3 months, I want to just sit them down and tell them it's all going to be okay.
But the reality is, it might not be.
Not every story progresses as well as ours has. Not every tiny baby grows a double chin. And slowly
develops stronger lungs.
I am grateful that we have progressed with leaps and bounds, but I can't help but hurt for the others.
As you enjoy Christmas with your loved ones this year, please keep all the families in the hospital in your thoughts and prayers. I know I am strong enough to see past the fact that I will wake up at the hospital on Christmas morning, I know that it is not where you are but who you are with.
I know that there is a light at the end of our tunnel and we will hopefully be bringing BH home sooner than later, but not all familes there have that. Not all of them can see past the hospital walls and the monitors and the IVs and the sickness to see the good. But I pray that each of them will have at least one good thing to smile about during this holiday season.
I know that I do. :) Pin It Now!
The other day I was in the elevator at the hospital.
Another young couple was in there and then a Mom and her daughter.
The young couple had a bunch of bags, pillows, and blankets with them.
The Mom made the comment that they looked like they were planning on staying for awhile.
The couple responded by telling us that their child had been at the hospital for a year, they were discharged only to go home for about 5 minutes and have to come right back because he/she got sick.
And my heart broke for them.
It's not often that I want to hug complete strangers, but I wanted to hug them both.
Can you even imagine?
I can't. Like at all.
This family has since been in my prayers and I would love if you could have them in yours too.
Every time that I see a new baby brought in to the hospital on our floor, I feel the mom's pain.
When I think back to how sick to my stomach I was at BH's first ambulance ride, at leaving the hospital and going to a new one, leaving the nurses that we were familiar with, I am just overwhelmed.
I cried a lot that day and was scared out of my mind.
And each time I see a family that is just starting out on the journey that we have been on for 3 months, I want to just sit them down and tell them it's all going to be okay.
But the reality is, it might not be.
Not every story progresses as well as ours has. Not every tiny baby grows a double chin. And slowly
develops stronger lungs.
I am grateful that we have progressed with leaps and bounds, but I can't help but hurt for the others.
As you enjoy Christmas with your loved ones this year, please keep all the families in the hospital in your thoughts and prayers. I know I am strong enough to see past the fact that I will wake up at the hospital on Christmas morning, I know that it is not where you are but who you are with.
I know that there is a light at the end of our tunnel and we will hopefully be bringing BH home sooner than later, but not all familes there have that. Not all of them can see past the hospital walls and the monitors and the IVs and the sickness to see the good. But I pray that each of them will have at least one good thing to smile about during this holiday season.
I know that I do. :) Pin It Now!
Dec 19, 2013
God Gave Me You
I have a lot of time to think.
Sitting in the hospital with nothing to do but stare at a sweet baby.
And lately I've been thinking a lot about how lucky I am to be BH's mom.
Sure, I've never had a normal pregnancy.
And I hate that I'm not good at being pregnant.
I've never had a baby and gone home the next day.
I've never even had a baby that didn't go to the NICU.
I've never been more than 34 weeks pregnant.
But I've experienced something greater.
Yes, BH's birth and life so far have been exhausting.
The praying. The medical terms. The research.
THE DRIVING. The late nights. The early mornings.
The absence of an entire family under one roof.
The leaving half of my heart at the hospital part.....
But it has been AMAZING.
I have loved every single minute of it.
And I'm so grateful that God chose me to be his Mom.
To me, it means He thought I could handle it.
And I'm proud to say that I can.
A lot of our nurses are surprised by what I do while I'm in the hospital.
It's not unusual for them to come in the room, and I've already changed his
diaper or swaddled him into a different position.
I can turn off the monitors, and I could probably even work his machine
that puts the milk through his tube....but I don't go that far.
The point is, I'm there.
I'm there being his mom, just like I'm suppose to.
It may not be ideal, but I'm his mom no matter where he lays his head.
Of course at first, I was nervous. And I sat back and watched.
But I've learned a ton.
I even participate in rounds with the doctors when they come to us.
They have questions for the nurses and while they are looking up the
answers, I can usually tell them the answers.
I'm not patting myself on the back or anything.
I only have one baby to take care of, and they have tons.
So I know my baby and his facts.
And the lucky part for BH?
His dad is the same way.
We have our routine down pretty good now.
FH is there during the day. He normally knows any concerns I have and gets answers for me.
Then I'm there in the evening. Sometimes both of us and the girls. Sometimes FH takes the girls home to do homework.
FH calls to check on him right before he goes to bed at night. And leaves me a note so I see it at my 2 AM pumping session.
I call to check on him during my 5 AM pumping session. And leave him a note so he knows what's going on before he leaves to take the girls to school in the mornings.
And we don't just call to hear "He's doing good."....we call for numbers. We want facts. We need his
weight in kilograms and I do the conversion and write it down each day. We research concerns and decide on what questions we need to bring up with the doctors during the rounds.
We make a good team.
And I'm pretty sure that's why God chose us.
I found this poem today and it made me smile....
Since having BH, I'm obsessed with all things preemie.
I swear I want to build a clubhouse and let all preemie moms come hang out with me in it.
It's just a different world and I'm totally absorbed in that world right now. :)
How Preemie Moms Are Chosen by Erma Bombeck
Did you ever wonder how the mothers of premature babies are chosen?
Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth, selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew. Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia.
Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a preemie."
The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a premature baby a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel."
"But does she have the patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of its own. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."
"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."
God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect She has just the right amount of selfishness."
The angel gasps, "Selfishness?! Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see-- ignorance, cruelty, prejudice-- and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."
"And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in the air.
God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."
**This poem is accurate in the patience department...I don't have enough of it.
***This poem is not accurate where it says "I don't think she even believes in you."....I have more faith now than I have ever had, and I've always had a good amount. :)
And last but not leastin the longest blog post EVER, a reader told me about this song.
I have listened to it at least a million times. And it still makes me cry when I listen. Enjoy.
Happy Holidays to you and yours. May you all find something to be thankful for this Christmas. :)
Pin It Now!
Sitting in the hospital with nothing to do but stare at a sweet baby.
And lately I've been thinking a lot about how lucky I am to be BH's mom.
Sure, I've never had a normal pregnancy.
And I hate that I'm not good at being pregnant.
I've never had a baby and gone home the next day.
I've never even had a baby that didn't go to the NICU.
I've never been more than 34 weeks pregnant.
But I've experienced something greater.
Yes, BH's birth and life so far have been exhausting.
The praying. The medical terms. The research.
THE DRIVING. The late nights. The early mornings.
The absence of an entire family under one roof.
The leaving half of my heart at the hospital part.....
But it has been AMAZING.
I have loved every single minute of it.
And I'm so grateful that God chose me to be his Mom.
To me, it means He thought I could handle it.
And I'm proud to say that I can.
A lot of our nurses are surprised by what I do while I'm in the hospital.
It's not unusual for them to come in the room, and I've already changed his
diaper or swaddled him into a different position.
I can turn off the monitors, and I could probably even work his machine
that puts the milk through his tube....but I don't go that far.
The point is, I'm there.
I'm there being his mom, just like I'm suppose to.
It may not be ideal, but I'm his mom no matter where he lays his head.
Of course at first, I was nervous. And I sat back and watched.
But I've learned a ton.
I even participate in rounds with the doctors when they come to us.
They have questions for the nurses and while they are looking up the
answers, I can usually tell them the answers.
I'm not patting myself on the back or anything.
I only have one baby to take care of, and they have tons.
So I know my baby and his facts.
And the lucky part for BH?
His dad is the same way.
We have our routine down pretty good now.
FH is there during the day. He normally knows any concerns I have and gets answers for me.
Then I'm there in the evening. Sometimes both of us and the girls. Sometimes FH takes the girls home to do homework.
FH calls to check on him right before he goes to bed at night. And leaves me a note so I see it at my 2 AM pumping session.
I call to check on him during my 5 AM pumping session. And leave him a note so he knows what's going on before he leaves to take the girls to school in the mornings.
And we don't just call to hear "He's doing good."....we call for numbers. We want facts. We need his
weight in kilograms and I do the conversion and write it down each day. We research concerns and decide on what questions we need to bring up with the doctors during the rounds.
We make a good team.
And I'm pretty sure that's why God chose us.
I found this poem today and it made me smile....
Since having BH, I'm obsessed with all things preemie.
I swear I want to build a clubhouse and let all preemie moms come hang out with me in it.
It's just a different world and I'm totally absorbed in that world right now. :)
How Preemie Moms Are Chosen by Erma Bombeck
Did you ever wonder how the mothers of premature babies are chosen?
Somehow, I visualize God hovering over Earth, selecting his instruments for propagation with great care and deliberation. As he observes, he instructs his angels to take notes in a giant ledger.
"Armstrong, Beth, son. Patron Saint, Matthew. Forrest, Marjorie, daughter. Patron Saint, Celia.
Rutledge, Carrie, twins. Patron Saint...give her Gerard. He's used to profanity."
Finally, he passes a name to an angel and smiles. "Give her a preemie."
The angel is curious. "Why this one, God? She's so happy."
"Exactly," smiles God. "Could I give a premature baby a mother who knows no laughter? That would be cruel."
"But does she have the patience?" asks the angel.
"I don't want her to have too much patience, or she'll drown in a sea of self-pity and despair. Once the shock and resentment wear off, she'll handle it. I watched her today. She has that sense of self and independence so rare and so necessary in a mother. You see, the child I'm going to give her has a world of its own. She has to make it live in her world, and that's not going to be easy."
"But Lord, I don't think she even believes in you."
God smiles. "No matter, I can fix that. This one is perfect She has just the right amount of selfishness."
The angel gasps, "Selfishness?! Is that a virtue?"
God nods. "If she can't separate herself from the child occasionally, she will never survive. Yes, here is a woman whom I will bless with a child less than perfect. She doesn't know it yet, but she is to be envied. She will never take for granted a spoken word. She will never consider a step ordinary. When her child says momma for the first time, she will be witness to a miracle and know it. I will permit her to see clearly the things I see-- ignorance, cruelty, prejudice-- and allow her to rise above them. She will never be alone. I will be at her side every minute of every day of her life because she is doing my work as surely as she is here by my side."
"And what about her Patron Saint?" asks the angel, his pen poised in the air.
God smiles. "A mirror will suffice."
**This poem is accurate in the patience department...I don't have enough of it.
***This poem is not accurate where it says "I don't think she even believes in you."....I have more faith now than I have ever had, and I've always had a good amount. :)
And last but not least
I have listened to it at least a million times. And it still makes me cry when I listen. Enjoy.
Happy Holidays to you and yours. May you all find something to be thankful for this Christmas. :)
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Dec 12, 2013
Will He be Home for Christmas?
Okay let's be real honest here.....
I hate being asked "When will he be home?" or "Will he be home for Christmas?"
I can't help it, I just do.
Maybe it's because every single milestone that he reaches, I am grateful.
To me, it's not all about him getting home.
It's more than that.
It's will he have long term issues? Will his eyes develop correctly?
Will his brain develop exactly how it needs to? Will he need glasses?
Will he catch up with other babies his age? Will I ever stop googling and freaking myself out?
I have so much more to stress about than the simple question of when he will
be home. Don't get me wrong. I want him home, like yesterday.
But I want him to be strong. I want his breathing to be solid.
I want to know that he is ready to come home.
Every day we are one step closer to bringing him home.
For that, I am grateful.
Happy Thursday everybody!! :)
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I hate being asked "When will he be home?" or "Will he be home for Christmas?"
I can't help it, I just do.
Maybe it's because every single milestone that he reaches, I am grateful.
To me, it's not all about him getting home.
It's more than that.
It's will he have long term issues? Will his eyes develop correctly?
Will his brain develop exactly how it needs to? Will he need glasses?
Will he catch up with other babies his age? Will I ever stop googling and freaking myself out?
I have so much more to stress about than the simple question of when he will
be home. Don't get me wrong. I want him home, like yesterday.
But I want him to be strong. I want his breathing to be solid.
I want to know that he is ready to come home.
Every day we are one step closer to bringing him home.
For that, I am grateful.
Happy Thursday everybody!! :)
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Dec 4, 2013
We're Still Here.....
73 days.
1,741 hours.
104,460 minutes.
And counting.
That's how long Harper has been in the NICU.
There are so many things he hasn't experienced yet that most babies his age have.
He's never had a real bath. Only a soap and water washcloth bath.
...never had a full bottle.
...never laid in a crib, or sat in a bouncy seat or a swing.
...never seen his nursery or the mobile above his own crib.
....never hung out with his dad while watching football.
...never got to sit with his sisters while they play.
....never sat in the rocking chair with Mommy.
But he is very, very loved and all of this stuff will be waiting on him as soon as he gets home.
He got to wear his first outfit over the weekend.
But it's so frustrating because he has so many people who look after them, that what
they want him to do changes from day to day.
We were told over the weekend that we could dress him so that they could start turning the
temp down on his box so he could move to the new open bed soon.
So we dressed him. And he looked adorable. And I thought it was a new chapter.
And I ran out and bought more preemie clothes and washed them and brought them to the hospital.
And the next day when we got there, he was in nothing but a diaper.
And we were told by the doctor on call that day that he wouldn't move out of his box until he gained more weight.
Luckily he is cute whether he has clothes on or not.
He had his first bottle on November 30. Tiny, tiny bottle.
They start out super small with it so he can get adjusted to sucking, swallowing, and breathing all at once. It's a big task for such a tiny boy!
He continues to get 1 bottle each shift, so 2 bottles per day.
He seems to love them and would drink more if given the option, but he has to work on breathing while he's getting it, that's our main goal right now.
He was moved to low flow oxygen on Sunday.
Which was super exciting....but also super fast.
Sometimes they just try to move way too quickly in my opinion, but I'm no doctor!
He didn't handle it well and it didn't help that he had a horrible nurse that day.
(No offense, but a nurse can truly make or break your day. Luckily we usually have amazing ones!)
So he was moved back to high flow before the day was over.
I wasn't too disappointed because I still know he is on the right track.
His breathing has improved TONS!
He has a lot of trouble keeping the prongs in his nose because he is a big time wiggler.
It seems as if everytime he moves, they come out.
But he handles them being out well......which is an amazing sign!
I've read about so many preemies who had their prongs out accidentally but handled it so well
that the doctor just left them out. I'm hoping that happens for us.
1,741 hours.
104,460 minutes.
And counting.
That's how long Harper has been in the NICU.
There are so many things he hasn't experienced yet that most babies his age have.
He's never had a real bath. Only a soap and water washcloth bath.
...never had a full bottle.
...never laid in a crib, or sat in a bouncy seat or a swing.
...never seen his nursery or the mobile above his own crib.
....never hung out with his dad while watching football.
...never got to sit with his sisters while they play.
....never sat in the rocking chair with Mommy.
But he is very, very loved and all of this stuff will be waiting on him as soon as he gets home.
He got to wear his first outfit over the weekend.
But it's so frustrating because he has so many people who look after them, that what
they want him to do changes from day to day.
We were told over the weekend that we could dress him so that they could start turning the
temp down on his box so he could move to the new open bed soon.
So we dressed him. And he looked adorable. And I thought it was a new chapter.
And I ran out and bought more preemie clothes and washed them and brought them to the hospital.
And the next day when we got there, he was in nothing but a diaper.
And we were told by the doctor on call that day that he wouldn't move out of his box until he gained more weight.
Luckily he is cute whether he has clothes on or not.
He had his first bottle on November 30. Tiny, tiny bottle.
They start out super small with it so he can get adjusted to sucking, swallowing, and breathing all at once. It's a big task for such a tiny boy!
Told ya it was tiny!!
He loved it! I knew he would because the boy loves to eat.
We took it super slow, as in he would get 3 gulps and then I'd let him breathe, then repeat.
I was so very proud of him!!
He continues to get 1 bottle each shift, so 2 bottles per day.
He seems to love them and would drink more if given the option, but he has to work on breathing while he's getting it, that's our main goal right now.
He was moved to low flow oxygen on Sunday.
Which was super exciting....but also super fast.
Sometimes they just try to move way too quickly in my opinion, but I'm no doctor!
He didn't handle it well and it didn't help that he had a horrible nurse that day.
(No offense, but a nurse can truly make or break your day. Luckily we usually have amazing ones!)
So he was moved back to high flow before the day was over.
I wasn't too disappointed because I still know he is on the right track.
His breathing has improved TONS!
He has a lot of trouble keeping the prongs in his nose because he is a big time wiggler.
It seems as if everytime he moves, they come out.
But he handles them being out well......which is an amazing sign!
I've read about so many preemies who had their prongs out accidentally but handled it so well
that the doctor just left them out. I'm hoping that happens for us.
This is him on the low flow. Even though he isn't on this anymore, I'm excited about how tiny
the breathing tube is. This is the oxygen that he could quite possibly go home on. And knowing that you can still see most of his face and the tube is so tiny, makes me feel a lot more ok with it!
Doesn't he look handsome?!
And fat?!
He's finally starting to fill out and look like a newborn. :)
Harper has a long way to go, but he is making amazing progress.
We are still praying for Christmas, but I'm beginning to think it might be easier if he came home like the day after Christmas. Because once he's home, I plan on going NOWHERE!
Kate wrote a note to Santa last night and asked for nothing but for her baby brother to be home for Christmas. I love the way they love him.
We are blessed in many, many ways. And I'm praying that BH continues to grow strong and get ready to come home to his family. We are ready, car seat and all!!
#HurryhomeHarper
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Nov 26, 2013
Thankful
With Thanksgiving quickly approaching, we have LOTS to be thankful for.
I'm gonna be real honest and tell you, when I heard the words "We are going to
deliver this baby, right now"...I didn't think my baby had a chance of living.
I knew a tiny bit about preemies. K&A were born early. But I didn't even
know that there was such a thing as micropreemies.
I didn't know the chances of living a 26 weeker had.
And it's not like I had time to research it.
Or even think about it for that long.
I just had time to be scared to death. But that's about it.
Now I know more about tiny babies than you could imagine.
I feel like FH and I have gained a nursing degree over the last 2 months.
Although I am VERY aware that we don't know the half of it all.
With all this being said, we have SO MUCH to be thankful for.
-I'm thankful that my baby came out crying. Crying = breathing. And even
though he obviously was put on a breathing machine immediately, him
coming out crying was a wonderful sign.
-I'm thankful that Harper had PDA surgery. I know this sounds crazy. And
at the time I would have never been thankful for it. But if it weren't for his
surgery, he would have never been sent to a different hospital. The hospital where
he was born has an amazing NICU, but when we were there, BH was not
even close to the norm. They had lots of little babies, but he was exceptionally smaller.
Where we are now, we are the norm. Most babies there are tiny or at least have
big problems, so we feel like the nurses there are more capable of handling our needs.
-I'm thankful for the horrible chairs that convert to beds in BH's room. We've spent hours in
them and though you can't say they are comfortable, they allow us to spend the night with our
baby. And for that I will forever be grateful.
-I'm thankful for NICU nurses. They are a rare breed. Most specifically, our primary nurse. Apparently at the hospital we are at now, a nurse can choose to have a primary baby. Meaning
when they are at work, they get their primary baby. Primary baby = favorite baby. We are lucky enough to have a primary nurse and when I say I just love her, it is a huge understatement. She was one of the reasons that BH's infection was caught so early. She spends hours making sure he is comfortable. She will sit with me and answer questions all day long. She spent her entire free time one weekend to color, cut out, and hang up a monitor for him so he had something to stare at. She sewed him a wubanub, because they don't make them with preemie pacifiers but I really wanted him to have one. She took pictures of bruises on his leg when someone squeezed him too hard while drawing blood so she would have proof when she reported it. She loves him. She is the reason that I got to start holding him when I did, and she is the only nurse who has ever let me hold him. Her patience is out of this world and I will FOREVER be indebted to this lady who has taken such great care of my son. I only wish she could be at the hospital 24/7.
-I'm thankful for my friends who check on my family all the time. This has been one of those situations where you find out who your friends are. I have some friends who constantly check on me and see if they can do anything to help me and then I have friends who never even mention the fact that I have a baby in the hospital. It's nice to know who really cares and also who really just isn't that interested. I'm grateful that mainly everyone loves on us and checks on us!
-I'm thankful for my rock of a husband. He knows how important a Momma is to her baby so he makes sure that I have tons of alone time with BH. He takes K&A home early from the hospital so we can have our alone time. He does dishes, and homework, and everything else that needs to be done so that I can love on our baby. And he understands that I need to be at the hospital every spare moment that I have.
-I'm thankful for family that take care of K&A. It's hard to have kids in different places. And without the help we have had, I know the girls would be feeling neglected....now they are just spoiled!
-I'm thankful for K&A's school. I've always loved their school. But now, I am almost at a loss for words. The entire class took up giftcards to give us to help us while we are on the road between home and the hospital all the time. We are still working on using all of them. And they also are taking up donations to send to our hospital in BH's name as their Christmas charity. To be thought of like this is just amazing. I'm so grateful to everyone for all their thoughts and prayers!
-I'm thankful that God blessed me with an endless supply of milk. I have what one doctor described as "more milk than I have ever heard of anyone having!" This is such a blessing. Don't get me wrong, pumping all day, every day is SUCH a pain. It helps that this is one of the only things I can do for BH that no one else can do for him. I like that so it keeps me going.
I could go on all day long.
So many people tell me often that they never know what to say to me about the baby.
They don't want to say the wrong thing or upset me.
I don't understand this.
Sure, maybe BH was born early and obviously it's not ideal that he's in the hospital.
But he is a beautiful little boy and I couldn't be happier with him no matter his size.
I feel blessed that I get to be his mom. That one day I get to share with him the story of his birth.
And show him pictures of how tiny he was. And how proud I am that he is so tough.
I wouldn't trade this experience for the world.
Happy (almost) Thanksgiving!
**I have no idea why some pictures are huge, but I'm not spending the time to fix it! ;)
Pin It Now!
I'm gonna be real honest and tell you, when I heard the words "We are going to
deliver this baby, right now"...I didn't think my baby had a chance of living.
I knew a tiny bit about preemies. K&A were born early. But I didn't even
know that there was such a thing as micropreemies.
I didn't know the chances of living a 26 weeker had.
And it's not like I had time to research it.
Or even think about it for that long.
I just had time to be scared to death. But that's about it.
Now I know more about tiny babies than you could imagine.
I feel like FH and I have gained a nursing degree over the last 2 months.
With all this being said, we have SO MUCH to be thankful for.
-I'm thankful that my baby came out crying. Crying = breathing. And even
though he obviously was put on a breathing machine immediately, him
coming out crying was a wonderful sign.
-I'm thankful that Harper had PDA surgery. I know this sounds crazy. And
at the time I would have never been thankful for it. But if it weren't for his
surgery, he would have never been sent to a different hospital. The hospital where
he was born has an amazing NICU, but when we were there, BH was not
even close to the norm. They had lots of little babies, but he was exceptionally smaller.
Where we are now, we are the norm. Most babies there are tiny or at least have
big problems, so we feel like the nurses there are more capable of handling our needs.
-I'm thankful for the horrible chairs that convert to beds in BH's room. We've spent hours in
them and though you can't say they are comfortable, they allow us to spend the night with our
baby. And for that I will forever be grateful.
-I'm thankful for NICU nurses. They are a rare breed. Most specifically, our primary nurse. Apparently at the hospital we are at now, a nurse can choose to have a primary baby. Meaning
when they are at work, they get their primary baby. Primary baby = favorite baby. We are lucky enough to have a primary nurse and when I say I just love her, it is a huge understatement. She was one of the reasons that BH's infection was caught so early. She spends hours making sure he is comfortable. She will sit with me and answer questions all day long. She spent her entire free time one weekend to color, cut out, and hang up a monitor for him so he had something to stare at. She sewed him a wubanub, because they don't make them with preemie pacifiers but I really wanted him to have one. She took pictures of bruises on his leg when someone squeezed him too hard while drawing blood so she would have proof when she reported it. She loves him. She is the reason that I got to start holding him when I did, and she is the only nurse who has ever let me hold him. Her patience is out of this world and I will FOREVER be indebted to this lady who has taken such great care of my son. I only wish she could be at the hospital 24/7.
-I'm thankful for my friends who check on my family all the time. This has been one of those situations where you find out who your friends are. I have some friends who constantly check on me and see if they can do anything to help me and then I have friends who never even mention the fact that I have a baby in the hospital. It's nice to know who really cares and also who really just isn't that interested. I'm grateful that mainly everyone loves on us and checks on us!
-I'm thankful for my rock of a husband. He knows how important a Momma is to her baby so he makes sure that I have tons of alone time with BH. He takes K&A home early from the hospital so we can have our alone time. He does dishes, and homework, and everything else that needs to be done so that I can love on our baby. And he understands that I need to be at the hospital every spare moment that I have.
-I'm thankful for family that take care of K&A. It's hard to have kids in different places. And without the help we have had, I know the girls would be feeling neglected....now they are just spoiled!
-I'm thankful for K&A's school. I've always loved their school. But now, I am almost at a loss for words. The entire class took up giftcards to give us to help us while we are on the road between home and the hospital all the time. We are still working on using all of them. And they also are taking up donations to send to our hospital in BH's name as their Christmas charity. To be thought of like this is just amazing. I'm so grateful to everyone for all their thoughts and prayers!
-I'm thankful that God blessed me with an endless supply of milk. I have what one doctor described as "more milk than I have ever heard of anyone having!" This is such a blessing. Don't get me wrong, pumping all day, every day is SUCH a pain. It helps that this is one of the only things I can do for BH that no one else can do for him. I like that so it keeps me going.
I could go on all day long.
So many people tell me often that they never know what to say to me about the baby.
They don't want to say the wrong thing or upset me.
I don't understand this.
Sure, maybe BH was born early and obviously it's not ideal that he's in the hospital.
But he is a beautiful little boy and I couldn't be happier with him no matter his size.
I feel blessed that I get to be his mom. That one day I get to share with him the story of his birth.
And show him pictures of how tiny he was. And how proud I am that he is so tough.
I wouldn't trade this experience for the world.
Happy (almost) Thanksgiving!
Pin It Now!
Nov 21, 2013
60 Days
I'm just gonna come right out and say this.
I'm tired.
Like really, really tired.
I feel like I never get caught up on sleep.
I know this is normal for a new mom, but I just want to sit at home in my PJs.
And hold my baby.
Today marks 60 days that BH has been in the hospital.
60 long days.
And I haven't missed a single day there with him.
I'm not gonna lie, sometimes I really wish I could leave work and go straight
home to bed.
But I know I'd miss him too much.
It's like a tiny part of me is sitting in that little isolette that he still calls a bed.
And I just have to be near him.
The problem is, I have other kids.
And a husband who sees me just in passing these days.
FH normally takes the girls home early from the hospital so I can
stay and have more quiet time with BH.
Luckily, FH has turned into quite the superdad.
He does the dishes, the laundry, homework, tucks them in at night.
Everything and anything he can to help since I'm never home.
It's sad though.
Sad to hear my girls tell me they miss me.
Sad to have to facetime them a goodnight kiss because they will be asleep
by the time I get home.
But it's necessary.
And hopefully will all be over soon when we bring that little stud home.
BH is doing great so far.
He is gaining weight like a champ. Currently sitting at 3 lbs, 7 ounces.
We were told that with most micropreemies, it takes what feels like forever for them to reach 3 lbs.
And then once they do, they start packing on the lbs.
Man, they weren't playing.
He gained that 7 ounces in less than a week!
He is really starting to get some meat on his bones.
And his little chubby cheeks are just out of this world.
I could stare at him all day long.
And that smile!
I know it might just be a little bit of gas, but I don't care, as long as he's smiling!
He has 2 days left on his antibiotics and then we are done with those.
Hopefully next week, he will start attempting to drink from a bottle.
I'm really nervous about the bottle.
He knows how to suck, I know that from him going to town on his paci.
But the thing is, he has to learn how to suck, swallow, and breathe all at the same time.
This is a huge obstacle for most preemies and will take him awhile to get it down.
He has to gain weight for 3 more days (5 days in a row) and be able to hold
his temperature and then he will get moved to a flat bed instead of his isolette.
This will be great because it's really hard to see him in that box!
He's currently on the CPAP breathing machine and doing well.
I pray that he moves to the last breathing machine soon and handles it well.
I know it sounds super selfish of me, but I really don't want him to come home on oxygen.
Lots of preemies do, and it's really not that big of a deal.
But I am praying so hard that once he leaves that hospital, he never looks back.
That he comes home with absolutely no reminder of being forced into an early birth.
I know this is a shot in the dark, but I'd rather him stay just a little bit longer there if he needs to
in order to come home with his face free of all tape, prongs, or other gadgets.
I mean, it's just a crying shame to cover this handsome face up with anything.
That hair. It kills me. It makes him look like a 100 year old man and a precious baby all at once.
I have lots of closeups like this because when I hold him, I just want to cherish the moment.
And remember forever.
One day when he is driving me nuts because he won't stop talking. Or he is too needy. Or cries too much. I want to remember how I stopped my entire world every chance I could just to sit with him like this. I'm grateful that we have these memories together.
In "the real world", I'm a fast paced, on the go Mom.
Only because he is in the NICU do I get to stop everything else and just be with him.
Never have I ever sat still for 3 hours, except during our holding time.
And I'm grateful that his hospital stay has made this possible.
I'm not going to lie. I've gotten to where I love our Friday nights.
I spend the night with him every Friday night. It's our slumber party time.
When I'm at the NICU, I can just be.
I don't have to worry about folding laundry or doing dishes. Or all the million things I should be doing. I just get to relax and know that I'm there just in case anything happens.
Don't worry, I reserve Saturday nights for the girls and FH.
And I do my best not to fall asleep at 7 on those nights so that I can spend enough time with them.
We still don't know when he will be home.
It's almost impossible to tell until we see how he does with a bottle. And on the next breathing machine.
But I'm praying for December. And won't lose my cool if it's not until January.
Anything after that though is just unacceptable.
You hear me Harper?!
Thank you for following along on our journey to bringing this sweet boy home.
I look forward to the day that I can say "remember when BH was in the NICU...."
Until then, we'll just keep on keepin' on!
Happy Thursday everybody. :) Pin It Now!
I'm tired.
Like really, really tired.
I feel like I never get caught up on sleep.
I know this is normal for a new mom, but I just want to sit at home in my PJs.
And hold my baby.
Today marks 60 days that BH has been in the hospital.
60 long days.
And I haven't missed a single day there with him.
I'm not gonna lie, sometimes I really wish I could leave work and go straight
home to bed.
But I know I'd miss him too much.
It's like a tiny part of me is sitting in that little isolette that he still calls a bed.
And I just have to be near him.
The problem is, I have other kids.
And a husband who sees me just in passing these days.
FH normally takes the girls home early from the hospital so I can
stay and have more quiet time with BH.
Luckily, FH has turned into quite the superdad.
He does the dishes, the laundry, homework, tucks them in at night.
Everything and anything he can to help since I'm never home.
It's sad though.
Sad to hear my girls tell me they miss me.
Sad to have to facetime them a goodnight kiss because they will be asleep
by the time I get home.
But it's necessary.
And hopefully will all be over soon when we bring that little stud home.
BH is doing great so far.
He is gaining weight like a champ. Currently sitting at 3 lbs, 7 ounces.
We were told that with most micropreemies, it takes what feels like forever for them to reach 3 lbs.
And then once they do, they start packing on the lbs.
Man, they weren't playing.
He gained that 7 ounces in less than a week!
He is really starting to get some meat on his bones.
And his little chubby cheeks are just out of this world.
I could stare at him all day long.
I know it might just be a little bit of gas, but I don't care, as long as he's smiling!
He has 2 days left on his antibiotics and then we are done with those.
Hopefully next week, he will start attempting to drink from a bottle.
I'm really nervous about the bottle.
He knows how to suck, I know that from him going to town on his paci.
But the thing is, he has to learn how to suck, swallow, and breathe all at the same time.
This is a huge obstacle for most preemies and will take him awhile to get it down.
He has to gain weight for 3 more days (5 days in a row) and be able to hold
his temperature and then he will get moved to a flat bed instead of his isolette.
This will be great because it's really hard to see him in that box!
He's currently on the CPAP breathing machine and doing well.
I pray that he moves to the last breathing machine soon and handles it well.
I know it sounds super selfish of me, but I really don't want him to come home on oxygen.
Lots of preemies do, and it's really not that big of a deal.
But I am praying so hard that once he leaves that hospital, he never looks back.
That he comes home with absolutely no reminder of being forced into an early birth.
I know this is a shot in the dark, but I'd rather him stay just a little bit longer there if he needs to
in order to come home with his face free of all tape, prongs, or other gadgets.
I mean, it's just a crying shame to cover this handsome face up with anything.
That hair. It kills me. It makes him look like a 100 year old man and a precious baby all at once.
I have lots of closeups like this because when I hold him, I just want to cherish the moment.
And remember forever.
One day when he is driving me nuts because he won't stop talking. Or he is too needy. Or cries too much. I want to remember how I stopped my entire world every chance I could just to sit with him like this. I'm grateful that we have these memories together.
In "the real world", I'm a fast paced, on the go Mom.
Only because he is in the NICU do I get to stop everything else and just be with him.
Never have I ever sat still for 3 hours, except during our holding time.
And I'm grateful that his hospital stay has made this possible.
I'm not going to lie. I've gotten to where I love our Friday nights.
I spend the night with him every Friday night. It's our slumber party time.
When I'm at the NICU, I can just be.
I don't have to worry about folding laundry or doing dishes. Or all the million things I should be doing. I just get to relax and know that I'm there just in case anything happens.
Don't worry, I reserve Saturday nights for the girls and FH.
And I do my best not to fall asleep at 7 on those nights so that I can spend enough time with them.
We still don't know when he will be home.
It's almost impossible to tell until we see how he does with a bottle. And on the next breathing machine.
But I'm praying for December. And won't lose my cool if it's not until January.
Anything after that though is just unacceptable.
You hear me Harper?!
Thank you for following along on our journey to bringing this sweet boy home.
I look forward to the day that I can say "remember when BH was in the NICU...."
Until then, we'll just keep on keepin' on!
Happy Thursday everybody. :) Pin It Now!
Nov 14, 2013
Just your Typical Amazing Morning
Today has been the best morning ever.
Or at least the best for me lately.
So, I slept through my 1 AM alarm last night.
Apparently if you are super sleepy and don't hit snooze after a couple of hours,
the alarm just shuts itself off.
I'm okay with that.
So when I woke up at 5 and pumped, I got double the amount of milk.
Meaning I got to sleep more but still got the same amount of milk.
Win-win!!!
On a sad note, I'm on antibiotics right now.
Which means I'm pumping and dumping for at least one week.
If you've never done this, then let me just tell you, it's HORRIBLE.
To work so hard and then throw it away....ughhh.
But we are running out of room in our freezer so taking a week off is
probably a good thing. At least I'm telling myself that.
I've noticed that pumping exclusively is entirely mental.
It's so hard, especially when I'm throwing it away, not to just stop.
But I know that it's best for the babyand it's a lot cheaper than formula.
Next up, I weighed this morning and I lost 2 more lbs.
Most of my weight from the baby came off right away but I have a little bit
that just won't go away, so it was awesome to wake up to a loss.
Annnnnd today I have on real jeans. As in not maternity jeans.
I know, I know, that's pathetic.
I shouldn't be wearing maternity jeans, but for some reason I have it in
my head that calories consumed do not count when sitting in the NICU.
So I have been shoveling Snickers down my throat like they are going out of style.
Also, Harper reached 3 lbs!
3 lbs!!!!!!
I'm so beyond excited about this.
Mainly because we have read so many times that it will feel like forever
to reach 3 lbs but after that, most micro preemies just shoot up.
And I can't wait for him to shoot up!
His chubby little cheeks kill me already.
Oh and we finally have one tiny neck roll. :)
Here's to hoping that the rest of the day follows along on this awesome train.
Happy Almost Friday. Pin It Now!
Or at least the best for me lately.
So, I slept through my 1 AM alarm last night.
Apparently if you are super sleepy and don't hit snooze after a couple of hours,
the alarm just shuts itself off.
I'm okay with that.
So when I woke up at 5 and pumped, I got double the amount of milk.
Meaning I got to sleep more but still got the same amount of milk.
Win-win!!!
On a sad note, I'm on antibiotics right now.
Which means I'm pumping and dumping for at least one week.
If you've never done this, then let me just tell you, it's HORRIBLE.
To work so hard and then throw it away....ughhh.
But we are running out of room in our freezer so taking a week off is
probably a good thing. At least I'm telling myself that.
I've noticed that pumping exclusively is entirely mental.
It's so hard, especially when I'm throwing it away, not to just stop.
But I know that it's best for the baby
Next up, I weighed this morning and I lost 2 more lbs.
Most of my weight from the baby came off right away but I have a little bit
that just won't go away, so it was awesome to wake up to a loss.
Annnnnd today I have on real jeans. As in not maternity jeans.
I know, I know, that's pathetic.
I shouldn't be wearing maternity jeans, but for some reason I have it in
my head that calories consumed do not count when sitting in the NICU.
So I have been shoveling Snickers down my throat like they are going out of style.
Also, Harper reached 3 lbs!
3 lbs!!!!!!
I'm so beyond excited about this.
Mainly because we have read so many times that it will feel like forever
to reach 3 lbs but after that, most micro preemies just shoot up.
And I can't wait for him to shoot up!
His chubby little cheeks kill me already.
Oh and we finally have one tiny neck roll. :)
Here's to hoping that the rest of the day follows along on this awesome train.
Happy Almost Friday. Pin It Now!
Nov 5, 2013
Nov 4, 2013
The Week that Lasted FOREVER
I suppose a Baby Harper update is in order.
And since I am finally back to the real world, I have a lot to catch up on.
So, Tuesday night, BH's breathing machine wasn't working right.
And it was stressing me OUT!
The only reason I left the hospital that night is because our favorite nurse
was there and we knew she would take care of him.
Wednesday night wasn't much better.
He was on the CPAP mask and he hates it.
It's big and bulky and honestly, it justpisses him off makes him mad.
We noticed several times that afternoon that he would quit breathing, more than normal.
BH, like most preemies his "age", has sleep apnea.
He randomly forgets to breathe.
We have been told that he will grow out of this around week 34-36.
so we are counting the days until this happens. (He is at 32 weeks now.)
So it's normal for him to stop breathing some and then correct it himself
with no assistance. But we found out that Wednesday night/Thursday
morning around 2 AM, he was doing it often. He also wasn't recovering
on his own and he was not being active.
If you knew Harper, you would know that he is super active at all times.
He even moves in his sleep.
I forgot to warn you that this is going to be a pretty long story.
So, Thursday morning when I get to work, I call to check on him like normal.
The nurse doesn't answer.
Then our favorite nurse calls with an update.
They had to move him from CPAP to the non-evasive vent.
He does really well on this vent, but it's still a step backwards.
His CO2 levels (which we keep track of every day and are normally in the
the 50s) was in the 60s.
They were afraid that he might have an infection.
So their plan was to move him to vent and then check his CO2 again in
30 minutes.
At that point, I decided to leave work.
I was so upset about this backwards step that I knew I had to be there.
Little did I know, it was about to get a lot worse.
So I met FH at the hospital and we walked in together.
We were stopped before we got to BH's room and told that they were intubating him
so we couldn't go in his room.
This means that within the time I got the phone call and the time that I had reached the
hospital (around 30 minutes), he had gotten worse.
His CO2 was 99! Which is out of control!
They were putting the tube back in his throat for the ventilator.
Another step backwards.
I cried. And I cried, and I cried.
It was just so devastating.
We didn't know what was wrong and we didn't know how bad it was.
We just had to sit in a room alone and stare at each other.
And try not to think the worse.
After probably losing 10 lbs from crying so much, we got to see him.
And I slowly began to think that it wasn't the end of the world.
We would be okay, he was tough.
We had to leave that afternoon to go get the girls ready for Halloween.
Their dad said he would take them out that night, but their costumes
were at our house so we had no choice.
We also needed to pack a bag to come back and spend the night with BH.
The girls were so upset that we weren't taking them to see BH.
They wanted to show off their costumes to the nurses, which I know
doesn't sound that fun but we have gotten to know the people there.
And so the girls were upset about the change in plans.
So back to the hosptial we go.
Only to be stopped in the hallway AGAIN before getting to his room.
The doctor was in there putting a catheter in.
Poor baby. If you know how tiny he is, then you can imagine how tiny
his parts are that would need a catheter....
We waited, and we waited.
Finally the doctor came to us and told us they were finished and
the nurses would come get us soon so we could see him.
And then we waited, and we waited.
FH went to check out what was going on....
And the doctor told him that they found out that his PICC line was infected.
So they had to remove it immediately, that's what was taking so long.
A PICC line is, well I'm no doctor so I don't know exactly, but it's basically
a glorified IV that doesn't have to be replaced often.
It is easily infected though because it's an open line and the line goes all
the way to his heart, where as an IV is just super short.
Or so that's what I have gathered....don't quote me or anything.
So how they test for infection is they take blood to the lab and watch it
to see if any bacteria grows. They took blood from his ankle (where the PICC
line was), from his wrist, and they also tested his urine.
The blood from the PICC line grew bacteria first.
We later found out that the blood from the wrist and urine both had
bacteria as well. This means the infection was all throughout his body.
Back to Thursday night.
We were told that it would be a really rough night for Harper.
Happy Halloween!
And so we expected the worse.
He was already on antibiotics at this point, because they start them immediately.
Fast forward to Friday morning, the doctor said he was on the upswing.
They couldn't believe how quickly he recovered.
He didn't have that bad of a night and the same happened Friday night.
I have no doubt that prayers were answered.
BH still has the infection, or at least he is still on the antibiotics.
He will have to take them for 21 days.
But he improved so quickly, that they extubated him almost a day later. (Took tube out of throat.)
Doctors that weren't even treating him were coming by to assess him because they had seen his chart
and were so amazed at his quick turn around.
He looks healthy now.
He is back to moving and trying to pull his tubes out, typical Harper behavior.
We are anxious to have this whole thing behind us, but are so grateful that what could have been
a HORRIBLE infection, was discovered super early. Since it was discovered super early and since apparently BH has a super strong immune system, he fought back like a champ.
So, so grateful for all of your prayers and well wishes.
And I'm grateful that it was time to "fall back" an hour this weekend, we really needed it!
And since I am finally back to the real world, I have a lot to catch up on.
So, Tuesday night, BH's breathing machine wasn't working right.
And it was stressing me OUT!
The only reason I left the hospital that night is because our favorite nurse
was there and we knew she would take care of him.
Wednesday night wasn't much better.
He was on the CPAP mask and he hates it.
It's big and bulky and honestly, it just
We noticed several times that afternoon that he would quit breathing, more than normal.
BH, like most preemies his "age", has sleep apnea.
He randomly forgets to breathe.
We have been told that he will grow out of this around week 34-36.
so we are counting the days until this happens. (He is at 32 weeks now.)
So it's normal for him to stop breathing some and then correct it himself
with no assistance. But we found out that Wednesday night/Thursday
morning around 2 AM, he was doing it often. He also wasn't recovering
on his own and he was not being active.
If you knew Harper, you would know that he is super active at all times.
He even moves in his sleep.
I forgot to warn you that this is going to be a pretty long story.
So, Thursday morning when I get to work, I call to check on him like normal.
The nurse doesn't answer.
Then our favorite nurse calls with an update.
They had to move him from CPAP to the non-evasive vent.
He does really well on this vent, but it's still a step backwards.
His CO2 levels (which we keep track of every day and are normally in the
the 50s) was in the 60s.
They were afraid that he might have an infection.
So their plan was to move him to vent and then check his CO2 again in
30 minutes.
At that point, I decided to leave work.
I was so upset about this backwards step that I knew I had to be there.
Little did I know, it was about to get a lot worse.
Leave work and come save me Mama!!
So I met FH at the hospital and we walked in together.
We were stopped before we got to BH's room and told that they were intubating him
so we couldn't go in his room.
This means that within the time I got the phone call and the time that I had reached the
hospital (around 30 minutes), he had gotten worse.
His CO2 was 99! Which is out of control!
They were putting the tube back in his throat for the ventilator.
Another step backwards.
I cried. And I cried, and I cried.
It was just so devastating.
We didn't know what was wrong and we didn't know how bad it was.
We just had to sit in a room alone and stare at each other.
And try not to think the worse.
After probably losing 10 lbs from crying so much, we got to see him.
And I slowly began to think that it wasn't the end of the world.
We would be okay, he was tough.
We had to leave that afternoon to go get the girls ready for Halloween.
Their dad said he would take them out that night, but their costumes
were at our house so we had no choice.
We also needed to pack a bag to come back and spend the night with BH.
The girls were so upset that we weren't taking them to see BH.
They wanted to show off their costumes to the nurses, which I know
doesn't sound that fun but we have gotten to know the people there.
And so the girls were upset about the change in plans.
So back to the hosptial we go.
Only to be stopped in the hallway AGAIN before getting to his room.
The doctor was in there putting a catheter in.
Poor baby. If you know how tiny he is, then you can imagine how tiny
his parts are that would need a catheter....
We waited, and we waited.
Finally the doctor came to us and told us they were finished and
the nurses would come get us soon so we could see him.
And then we waited, and we waited.
FH went to check out what was going on....
And the doctor told him that they found out that his PICC line was infected.
So they had to remove it immediately, that's what was taking so long.
A PICC line is, well I'm no doctor so I don't know exactly, but it's basically
a glorified IV that doesn't have to be replaced often.
It is easily infected though because it's an open line and the line goes all
the way to his heart, where as an IV is just super short.
Or so that's what I have gathered....don't quote me or anything.
So how they test for infection is they take blood to the lab and watch it
to see if any bacteria grows. They took blood from his ankle (where the PICC
line was), from his wrist, and they also tested his urine.
The blood from the PICC line grew bacteria first.
We later found out that the blood from the wrist and urine both had
bacteria as well. This means the infection was all throughout his body.
Back to Thursday night.
We were told that it would be a really rough night for Harper.
Happy Halloween!
And so we expected the worse.
He was already on antibiotics at this point, because they start them immediately.
Fast forward to Friday morning, the doctor said he was on the upswing.
They couldn't believe how quickly he recovered.
He didn't have that bad of a night and the same happened Friday night.
I have no doubt that prayers were answered.
BH still has the infection, or at least he is still on the antibiotics.
He will have to take them for 21 days.
But he improved so quickly, that they extubated him almost a day later. (Took tube out of throat.)
Doctors that weren't even treating him were coming by to assess him because they had seen his chart
and were so amazed at his quick turn around.
He looks healthy now.
He is back to moving and trying to pull his tubes out, typical Harper behavior.
We are anxious to have this whole thing behind us, but are so grateful that what could have been
a HORRIBLE infection, was discovered super early. Since it was discovered super early and since apparently BH has a super strong immune system, he fought back like a champ.
So, so grateful for all of your prayers and well wishes.
And I'm grateful that it was time to "fall back" an hour this weekend, we really needed it!
We have really got to work on this pancake head. He hates to lay on his back so his head looks like a pancake!
Don't worry Harper, we love you and your little (big) pancake head! :)
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Oct 28, 2013
When the Going Gets Tough....
I'm not going to lie.
Some days are worse than others.
Some days, I just want to cry because I miss my baby.
I want to laugh at "important" stuff at work because nothing
feels as important as being at the hospital with him.
I want to quit my job and be a professional sitter at the NICU.
I just miss him.
I miss his smell.
And the beeps on his monitor.
I miss holding him.
And kissing him.
And telling him that I love him.
I miss him while we are at home and it just feels like something is missing.
I miss him while I'm at work and wonder what he is doing.
(As if he could be doing much more than sleeping....)
I'm often fine and know that with time everything will be okay.
That he will come home when he's ready.
That it hasn't even been "that long" yet.
That I should be strong and stop having pity parties for myself.
But it's hard.
And I'm tired.
And I just want my baby home.
It's tough to see other people with their babies.
All healthy and doing just fine.
And coming home the day after delivery.
Don't get me wrong.
I LOVE seeing healthy babies.
And I wouldn't wish time in the NICU on anybody.
But sometimes it's tough.
And at the same time I know that it could always be worse.
A lot of people want to know how much BH will have to weigh
before he can come home......and that just reminds me of how
little people know about his situation.
It's not their fault, you just think the baby is tiny so he needs to grow
so he can come home.
He was born too early to have developed his lungs.
So he needs lots of oxygen.
Gaining weight is only one of his many obstacles.
You know all the growing that babies do in the womb from weeks
26-40?
Harper has to do all that growing, inside and out, and at the same time
he has to breathe on his own. Not all safe inside my belly.
The more oxygen he gets, the greater the chances are of long term issues.
I'm no doctor, I only know what we've read and have been told.
He's doing well right now.
He eats like a champ through his feeding tube.
They increase the amount he gets each day, but it's still only a tiny
amount. As of right now, he gets a little over 3 ounces per day.
That seems like nothing, but to him it's a lot.
He also gets extra calories added into his milk so he can gain weight.
He has a breathing machine of course.
He's doing well on it, but the longer he is on it, the more dangerous.
He has fluid on his lungs. And scars that he will have to grow out of.
He gets poked every morning to test his blood.
He has wires all over him and monitors that go off often.
I'm pretty sure that by the time we finally get out of the NICU, FH and I
will be fluent in doctor language.
And I can't tell you when we will get out of the NICU.
There are babies his size that stayed 3 or 4 months and babies his
size who have stayed as much as a year.
At first, I dreamed of having him home for Christmas.
But now I don't want to dissappoint K&A (or myself) so I'm
telling myself that it will be January.
And praying every night that it will be sooner.
I can't wait until I have a day when I can pick him up when I want to.
And I don't spend the whole time staring at monitors while doing so.
And I have to leave him at the hospital when his little eyes are looking up
at me saying "take me with you Momma".
Until then, I will appreciate the amazing nurses who are keeping him safe.
The doctors who are helping him grow.
The endless supply of milk that I have been blessed with.
And a husband to lean on.
And tell myself that one day I will look back on this and it will
be nothing but a memory.
Sorry if this seemed like a super sad post.
I swear I'm still positive!
I'm just having a moment.....
And one day I will get back to blogging about unicorns and rainbows.
Happy Monday everybody. :)
Pin It Now!
Some days are worse than others.
Some days, I just want to cry because I miss my baby.
I want to laugh at "important" stuff at work because nothing
feels as important as being at the hospital with him.
I want to quit my job and be a professional sitter at the NICU.
I just miss him.
I miss his smell.
And the beeps on his monitor.
I miss holding him.
And kissing him.
And telling him that I love him.
I miss him while we are at home and it just feels like something is missing.
I miss him while I'm at work and wonder what he is doing.
(As if he could be doing much more than sleeping....)
I'm often fine and know that with time everything will be okay.
That he will come home when he's ready.
That it hasn't even been "that long" yet.
That I should be strong and stop having pity parties for myself.
But it's hard.
And I'm tired.
And I just want my baby home.
It's tough to see other people with their babies.
All healthy and doing just fine.
And coming home the day after delivery.
Don't get me wrong.
I LOVE seeing healthy babies.
And I wouldn't wish time in the NICU on anybody.
But sometimes it's tough.
And at the same time I know that it could always be worse.
A lot of people want to know how much BH will have to weigh
before he can come home......and that just reminds me of how
little people know about his situation.
It's not their fault, you just think the baby is tiny so he needs to grow
so he can come home.
He was born too early to have developed his lungs.
So he needs lots of oxygen.
Gaining weight is only one of his many obstacles.
You know all the growing that babies do in the womb from weeks
26-40?
Harper has to do all that growing, inside and out, and at the same time
he has to breathe on his own. Not all safe inside my belly.
The more oxygen he gets, the greater the chances are of long term issues.
I'm no doctor, I only know what we've read and have been told.
He's doing well right now.
He eats like a champ through his feeding tube.
They increase the amount he gets each day, but it's still only a tiny
amount. As of right now, he gets a little over 3 ounces per day.
That seems like nothing, but to him it's a lot.
He also gets extra calories added into his milk so he can gain weight.
He has a breathing machine of course.
He's doing well on it, but the longer he is on it, the more dangerous.
He has fluid on his lungs. And scars that he will have to grow out of.
He gets poked every morning to test his blood.
He has wires all over him and monitors that go off often.
I'm pretty sure that by the time we finally get out of the NICU, FH and I
will be fluent in doctor language.
And I can't tell you when we will get out of the NICU.
There are babies his size that stayed 3 or 4 months and babies his
size who have stayed as much as a year.
At first, I dreamed of having him home for Christmas.
But now I don't want to dissappoint K&A (or myself) so I'm
telling myself that it will be January.
And praying every night that it will be sooner.
I can't wait until I have a day when I can pick him up when I want to.
And I don't spend the whole time staring at monitors while doing so.
And I have to leave him at the hospital when his little eyes are looking up
at me saying "take me with you Momma".
Until then, I will appreciate the amazing nurses who are keeping him safe.
The doctors who are helping him grow.
The endless supply of milk that I have been blessed with.
And a husband to lean on.
And tell myself that one day I will look back on this and it will
be nothing but a memory.
Sorry if this seemed like a super sad post.
I swear I'm still positive!
I'm just having a moment.....
And one day I will get back to blogging about unicorns and rainbows.
Happy Monday everybody. :)
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Oct 23, 2013
A Day in the Life of a NICU Momma
I'm tired.
Like really, really tired.
And I'm trying my best not to stuff my face with chocolate, when I
could easily convince myself that I need the energy.
So I thought I would show y'all what a day in my life is like now.
Obviously not every single day is the same.
We are still working out a good routine that works for everyone.
Some days have different events, like football games that throw us off.
But this is my ideal day, and how I want/need them to go.
5 AM wake up, shower, pump, get ready
6 AM wake girls up, remind them of a million things before I walk
out the door (FH takes them to school)
6:15 leave for work
6:30-8:30 work
8:30 pump
9-11 work
11:00 eat lunch at desk
11:15 walk outside while the weather is nice. this is going to start today.
Since I use my breaks at work to pump now, I don't get to walk (which I
have always done) so this is my solution.
11:30 pump
12-2:30 work
2:30 pump (notice a trend here? it is always time to pump!!!)
3 leave work for the day
3:15 pick up K&A from school and head to the hospital to see
baby brother
4-5:30 visit with BH and FH. eat dinner even though it's super early
since we are normally starving.
5:30 pump
6-7 visit with the BH some more, FH&I help the girls with homework
7-8 head home, the most difficult part of my day
8-8:30 girls shower, get ready for bed, get in bed
8:30 pump
9 bed for me! I wait on this all day long!!!!
midnight pump
5 AM repeat.
I know all new moms are exhausted so I don't think I'm any different.
The stress of dealing with the hospital and not having my baby at home
added to the lack of sleep is a lot to handle...but God doesn't give you
more than you can handle so I'm good.
I can also tell you that I can NOT wait until the weekend. I plan on
staying at the hospital all weekend and taking at least 4 million naps.
And just so you know, the doctor told us yesterday that given BH's
size and age, he is doing awesome. That was music to my ears.
**Sorry for no pictures, but that would require more energy.**
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Like really, really tired.
And I'm trying my best not to stuff my face with chocolate, when I
could easily convince myself that I need the energy.
So I thought I would show y'all what a day in my life is like now.
Obviously not every single day is the same.
We are still working out a good routine that works for everyone.
Some days have different events, like football games that throw us off.
But this is my ideal day, and how I want/need them to go.
5 AM wake up, shower, pump, get ready
6 AM wake girls up, remind them of a million things before I walk
out the door (FH takes them to school)
6:15 leave for work
6:30-8:30 work
8:30 pump
9-11 work
11:00 eat lunch at desk
11:15 walk outside while the weather is nice. this is going to start today.
Since I use my breaks at work to pump now, I don't get to walk (which I
have always done) so this is my solution.
11:30 pump
12-2:30 work
2:30 pump (notice a trend here? it is always time to pump!!!)
3 leave work for the day
3:15 pick up K&A from school and head to the hospital to see
baby brother
4-5:30 visit with BH and FH. eat dinner even though it's super early
since we are normally starving.
5:30 pump
6-7 visit with the BH some more, FH&I help the girls with homework
7-8 head home, the most difficult part of my day
8-8:30 girls shower, get ready for bed, get in bed
8:30 pump
9 bed for me! I wait on this all day long!!!!
midnight pump
5 AM repeat.
I know all new moms are exhausted so I don't think I'm any different.
The stress of dealing with the hospital and not having my baby at home
added to the lack of sleep is a lot to handle...but God doesn't give you
more than you can handle so I'm good.
I can also tell you that I can NOT wait until the weekend. I plan on
staying at the hospital all weekend and taking at least 4 million naps.
And just so you know, the doctor told us yesterday that given BH's
size and age, he is doing awesome. That was music to my ears.
**Sorry for no pictures, but that would require more energy.**
Pin It Now!
Oct 16, 2013
Just Keepin' It Real
Truth.
It's 10 AM and I'm eating a snickers.
I sleep about 4 to 5 hours a night now, which is why I look like death.
I woke up at 4 AM this morning to pump and come to the hospital.
I feel guilty when I go home.
I have no clue when I last put on makeup.
I don't waste time drying my hair because I'm in too much of a hurry.
I have around 75 bottles of frozen breast milk in my freezer, 3 bins of it at this hospital, and 2 bins at the other hospital.
I feel like a milking cow. And that I should apply to be in the Chik-Fil-A ads.
I am trying not to think about the tons and tons of medical bills that are adding up every day.
I never knew sitting around at the hospital all day could be so exhausting.
I nap a lot.
My house is a wreck.
I'm terrified of going back to work next week. I knew it would eventually happen, but it will be almost impossible to juggle everything.
I can't help but dreaming of exercise. I want to so badly but it feels selfish to take time out of my day for it.
I have a view of a dangerous part of town from our NICU window. It keeps me entertained. A real live reality show.
And just when I feel super overwhelmed, I meet a young mom in the family room who is living here since her house is 3 hours away. Living here without her husband because he has to work. Her baby was born in March and they have no idea when he'll get to go home.
And just like that I get my reality check. It could always be worse.
I'm constantly thinking of that young mom now and others with situations much worse than mine.
And I'm grateful.
Now, I've got to hurry up and get back to doing nothing. :) and enjoy it while it lasts.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Pin It Now!
It's 10 AM and I'm eating a snickers.
I sleep about 4 to 5 hours a night now, which is why I look like death.
I woke up at 4 AM this morning to pump and come to the hospital.
I feel guilty when I go home.
I have no clue when I last put on makeup.
I don't waste time drying my hair because I'm in too much of a hurry.
I have around 75 bottles of frozen breast milk in my freezer, 3 bins of it at this hospital, and 2 bins at the other hospital.
I feel like a milking cow. And that I should apply to be in the Chik-Fil-A ads.
I am trying not to think about the tons and tons of medical bills that are adding up every day.
I never knew sitting around at the hospital all day could be so exhausting.
I nap a lot.
My house is a wreck.
I'm terrified of going back to work next week. I knew it would eventually happen, but it will be almost impossible to juggle everything.
I can't help but dreaming of exercise. I want to so badly but it feels selfish to take time out of my day for it.
I have a view of a dangerous part of town from our NICU window. It keeps me entertained. A real live reality show.
And just when I feel super overwhelmed, I meet a young mom in the family room who is living here since her house is 3 hours away. Living here without her husband because he has to work. Her baby was born in March and they have no idea when he'll get to go home.
And just like that I get my reality check. It could always be worse.
I'm constantly thinking of that young mom now and others with situations much worse than mine.
And I'm grateful.
Now, I've got to hurry up and get back to doing nothing. :) and enjoy it while it lasts.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone
Pin It Now!
Oct 13, 2013
Best. Day. Ever.
Let's talk about Sundays, shall we?
In particular, our recent track record with Sundays.
3 Sundays ago, FH and I planned on grilling out hamburgers.
And then I went to the ER and had an emergency C-section 3 months early.
2 Sundays ago, FH and I planned on grilling out hamburgers.
And then while we were at the NICU, we were told that our son had a hole in his heart.
Last Sunday, FH and I were saying how nice it would be if we could finally grill out.
And then we were told that our son was being transported immediately to a new hospital for surgery.
Today is Sunday.
We swore we weren't grilling out tonight.
We swore that we wouldn't make any plans whatsoever for the day.
We packed our bags to go to the hospital, just like we have every day this week in case
we needed to spend the night. (The last few Sundays, we had to go back home for stuff.)
I washed my hair, which I didn't do on the previous Sundays, just in case.
And today was the best day ever.
Baby Harper has redeemed Sundays for us.
Today has consisted of me holding him for the first time ever.
Me kissing him for the first time ever.
Him getting out of his little box for the first time since he was born.
I got to hold him for 2 hours when I was expecting to hold him only 10 minutes.
He was so tiny that it felt like I was holding a little guinea pig.
His tiny little fingernails and toenails felt like a small animal's claws on my skin.
There were tons of wires and his breathing tube was taped to my shoulder so it wouldn't fall.
And it was one of the most amazing things I have experienced in all my life.
He did awesome.
All of his numbers were amazing while he was skin to skin with me.
I finally felt like he really did need me, because I could do something for him that the nurses couldn't.
Well, other than my milk producing skills. I have found I'm quite talented at that.
I will never EVER forget this day.
Not to mention, it ended with dinner at my favorite place, a trip to Target, and 2 of my favorite TV shows. I mean, come on, what more could a girl ask for??
Being a NICU parent is hard.
Like really really really hard.
We are like walking zombies.
Of course I'm up all during the night pumping, which I know is normal for mothers of babies.
But then we spend half our time on the road driving back and forth to the hospital.
Then we also have K&A.
Who I am scared to death are going to feel neglected because of the new baby.
So we make sure we still go to volleyball games and football games.
It's a never ending, exhausting balancing act.
I'm not complaining, just explaining.
The NICU is like it's own little world.
It's an amazing thing to be a part of.
Although I can't say I will miss it when we are gone.
The nurses are seriously a gift from God.
Every single nurse that we have encountered has treated our son as if he were their own.
They talk to him, love on him, take care of him just like I would.
They do everything in their power to make him comfortable and that we are too.
I am shocked and amazed at how good they are at their jobs.
The other night we were there and a really loud buzzing went off.
Obviously a baby was having trouble.
Every single nurse in there ran to help.
We found out the next day that the baby died.
I don't know how or why, but it broke my heart.
Not only for the parents, but also for the nurses.
I know they love them so much that it kills them when one doesn't make it.
And the most amazing part is, they were so protective of the entire situation that they kept it
hidden so well.
Obviously they know that other parents in the NICU don't need to hear or see about that.
We were told that after Harper had his surgery, most babies his size have several bad days.
And then they start going back uphill.
This was extremely scary to us because if you didn't know about the hole in his heart, you would think he was doing great.
He was breathing better, all his numbers were good, he was even pooping! :)
We had to trust the doctors when they told us that they were going to cut open our baby who weighed less than 2 lbs and that he would then get worse before he got better.
Side note: the doctor who did his surgery said that Harper was twice the size of the smallest baby he had ever performed the surgery on. Can you even imagine that?? His heart was about the size of a fingernail. Like a pinky fingernail.
That. Was. Terrifying.
But we trusted them.
And prayed like crazy.
And begged all you people to pray like crazy.
He did amazing in his surgery.
And it's a blessing that we didn't wait around longer just to see if medicine would heal his heart.
Because the doctor said that the hole was much bigger than expected.
They normally use one clamp to close the hole and Harper got two clamps.
Which will always be there, his heart will just grow around it. That was one of my questions. :)
What a relief.
And then, we started having bad days.
Nothing awful, mind you.
Just not good numbers.
No improvements.
No weight gain.
No signs of getting any better.
No good days.
It was so hard during these few days to answer the question "How is the baby doing?"
Could I really tell you "Not very good right now."
We just waited.
And stressed.
And I cried and cried and cried.
And stressed some more.
And didn't sleep.
And then finally, yesterday was a good day.
And today an even better one.
Throughout this whole process, I have tried my best to stay positive.
To take it one day at a time, one hour at a time.
To know that it could always be worse.
But at the back of your mind, you really just want to sit and cry and have a pity party.
And want to know why your baby didn't get to come home already?
Why are we not holding him and complaining about his crying like normal parents?
The "what ifs" begin to roll in.
What if I would have gone to the doctor on Friday right when my head started hurting?
What if I were better at being pregnant?
What if I could have done something differently so that I could have kept him in longer?
What if we could have gotten the steroid shot early enough for his lungs?
What if?
But the truth is, none of that matters.
What matters is that today was a good day.
Now, we just have to pray that tomorrow is a good day too.
Thank you all so much for your continued support and prayers throughout this time for us.
I wish I could respond to every single IG,fb, and blog comment I get but it's not possible.
Not when I have a 2 lb baby that needs most of my attention.
But I love the comments and the prayers. I love all the love this baby is getting.
Hug your babies tonight for me!
Pin It Now!
In particular, our recent track record with Sundays.
3 Sundays ago, FH and I planned on grilling out hamburgers.
And then I went to the ER and had an emergency C-section 3 months early.
2 Sundays ago, FH and I planned on grilling out hamburgers.
And then while we were at the NICU, we were told that our son had a hole in his heart.
Last Sunday, FH and I were saying how nice it would be if we could finally grill out.
And then we were told that our son was being transported immediately to a new hospital for surgery.
Today is Sunday.
We swore we weren't grilling out tonight.
We swore that we wouldn't make any plans whatsoever for the day.
We packed our bags to go to the hospital, just like we have every day this week in case
we needed to spend the night. (The last few Sundays, we had to go back home for stuff.)
I washed my hair, which I didn't do on the previous Sundays, just in case.
And today was the best day ever.
Baby Harper has redeemed Sundays for us.
Today has consisted of me holding him for the first time ever.
Me kissing him for the first time ever.
Him getting out of his little box for the first time since he was born.
I got to hold him for 2 hours when I was expecting to hold him only 10 minutes.
He was so tiny that it felt like I was holding a little guinea pig.
His tiny little fingernails and toenails felt like a small animal's claws on my skin.
There were tons of wires and his breathing tube was taped to my shoulder so it wouldn't fall.
And it was one of the most amazing things I have experienced in all my life.
He did awesome.
All of his numbers were amazing while he was skin to skin with me.
I finally felt like he really did need me, because I could do something for him that the nurses couldn't.
I will never EVER forget this day.
Not to mention, it ended with dinner at my favorite place, a trip to Target, and 2 of my favorite TV shows. I mean, come on, what more could a girl ask for??
Being a NICU parent is hard.
Like really really really hard.
We are like walking zombies.
Of course I'm up all during the night pumping, which I know is normal for mothers of babies.
But then we spend half our time on the road driving back and forth to the hospital.
Then we also have K&A.
Who I am scared to death are going to feel neglected because of the new baby.
So we make sure we still go to volleyball games and football games.
It's a never ending, exhausting balancing act.
I'm not complaining, just explaining.
The NICU is like it's own little world.
It's an amazing thing to be a part of.
Although I can't say I will miss it when we are gone.
The nurses are seriously a gift from God.
Every single nurse that we have encountered has treated our son as if he were their own.
They talk to him, love on him, take care of him just like I would.
They do everything in their power to make him comfortable and that we are too.
I am shocked and amazed at how good they are at their jobs.
The other night we were there and a really loud buzzing went off.
Obviously a baby was having trouble.
Every single nurse in there ran to help.
We found out the next day that the baby died.
I don't know how or why, but it broke my heart.
Not only for the parents, but also for the nurses.
I know they love them so much that it kills them when one doesn't make it.
And the most amazing part is, they were so protective of the entire situation that they kept it
hidden so well.
Obviously they know that other parents in the NICU don't need to hear or see about that.
We were told that after Harper had his surgery, most babies his size have several bad days.
And then they start going back uphill.
This was extremely scary to us because if you didn't know about the hole in his heart, you would think he was doing great.
He was breathing better, all his numbers were good, he was even pooping! :)
We had to trust the doctors when they told us that they were going to cut open our baby who weighed less than 2 lbs and that he would then get worse before he got better.
Side note: the doctor who did his surgery said that Harper was twice the size of the smallest baby he had ever performed the surgery on. Can you even imagine that?? His heart was about the size of a fingernail. Like a pinky fingernail.
That. Was. Terrifying.
But we trusted them.
And prayed like crazy.
And begged all you people to pray like crazy.
He did amazing in his surgery.
And it's a blessing that we didn't wait around longer just to see if medicine would heal his heart.
Because the doctor said that the hole was much bigger than expected.
They normally use one clamp to close the hole and Harper got two clamps.
Which will always be there, his heart will just grow around it. That was one of my questions. :)
What a relief.
And then, we started having bad days.
Nothing awful, mind you.
Just not good numbers.
No improvements.
No weight gain.
No signs of getting any better.
No good days.
It was so hard during these few days to answer the question "How is the baby doing?"
Could I really tell you "Not very good right now."
We just waited.
And stressed.
And I cried and cried and cried.
And stressed some more.
And didn't sleep.
And then finally, yesterday was a good day.
And today an even better one.
Throughout this whole process, I have tried my best to stay positive.
To take it one day at a time, one hour at a time.
To know that it could always be worse.
But at the back of your mind, you really just want to sit and cry and have a pity party.
And want to know why your baby didn't get to come home already?
Why are we not holding him and complaining about his crying like normal parents?
The "what ifs" begin to roll in.
What if I would have gone to the doctor on Friday right when my head started hurting?
What if I were better at being pregnant?
What if I could have done something differently so that I could have kept him in longer?
What if we could have gotten the steroid shot early enough for his lungs?
What if?
But the truth is, none of that matters.
What matters is that today was a good day.
Now, we just have to pray that tomorrow is a good day too.
Thank you all so much for your continued support and prayers throughout this time for us.
I wish I could respond to every single IG,fb, and blog comment I get but it's not possible.
Not when I have a 2 lb baby that needs most of my attention.
But I love the comments and the prayers. I love all the love this baby is getting.
Hug your babies tonight for me!
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Oct 1, 2013
The Adventures of Super Breast Woman
I may not always sleep at nighttime, but when I do, I make sure that it's for only 2 consecutive hours at a time. -Super Breast Woman
Have you ever noticed that all hard working humans/creatures/superheroes do their best work at night while everyone else is sleeping? Santa and his elves, the toothfairy, mice(just not in my house hopefully). and breastfeeding moms all have this is common.
Like a thief in the night, I creep quietly around.
The only sound you will hear at my house is the quiet pumping of the breast pump.
Up and down, up and down.
With my night vision eyes and my cat like reflexes, it's a wonder I get around the house.
Not wanting to wake anyone up, I never turn on many lights.
If someone leaves something on the floor that is unexpected, it will kill me.
I wear my cape on my chest, in the form of two bottles,
If only they would stay there with a hands free device.
It's so easy to be productive in the middle of the night, if only I could vacuum without waking anyone up. With Super Breast Woman in your house, it's no surprise if you go to bed with a full laundry hamper but wake up to clean, folded clothes.
The dishes may be done(except in our house because this is SuperFH's job) and dinner could magically be in the crockpot.
Your books could be packed all neat in your backpackand the stockings hung on the chimney with care. In fact, super breast woman might be tempted to finish up your homework for you, but she will resist for the love of all things that are proper.
Breakfast will be ready when you wake up and your clothes will be ironed.
Don't be fooled if Super Breast Woman is sleeping in the recliner, with drool running down her face.
It doesn't mean she actually went to bed last night, it just means she is resting her eyes until
her minions wake up.
Just wait about 5 more minutes and her "It's time to pump again!" alarm will surely sound.
Time to start over, do it all again.
Practice makes perfect and pumping liquid gold will make the baby grow.
And don't worry, it's okay to ask "Mom, did you actually go to sleep at all last night?"
She may be a superhero, but she likes that you notice all her nighttime hard work.
Until next time Super Breast Woman, go back to saving the world, 2 ounces at a time.
I may or may not be delirious, but I felt like it was time for a not so serious post. :) Pin It Now!
Have you ever noticed that all hard working humans/creatures/superheroes do their best work at night while everyone else is sleeping? Santa and his elves, the toothfairy, mice
Like a thief in the night, I creep quietly around.
The only sound you will hear at my house is the quiet pumping of the breast pump.
Up and down, up and down.
With my night vision eyes and my cat like reflexes, it's a wonder I get around the house.
Not wanting to wake anyone up, I never turn on many lights.
If someone leaves something on the floor that is unexpected, it will kill me.
I wear my cape on my chest, in the form of two bottles,
If only they would stay there with a hands free device.
It's so easy to be productive in the middle of the night, if only I could vacuum without waking anyone up. With Super Breast Woman in your house, it's no surprise if you go to bed with a full laundry hamper but wake up to clean, folded clothes.
The dishes may be done
Your books could be packed all neat in your backpack
Breakfast will be ready when you wake up and your clothes will be ironed.
Don't be fooled if Super Breast Woman is sleeping in the recliner, with drool running down her face.
It doesn't mean she actually went to bed last night, it just means she is resting her eyes until
her minions wake up.
Just wait about 5 more minutes and her "It's time to pump again!" alarm will surely sound.
Time to start over, do it all again.
Practice makes perfect and pumping liquid gold will make the baby grow.
And don't worry, it's okay to ask "Mom, did you actually go to sleep at all last night?"
She may be a superhero, but she likes that you notice all her nighttime hard work.
Until next time Super Breast Woman, go back to saving the world, 2 ounces at a time.
I may or may not be delirious, but I felt like it was time for a not so serious post. :) Pin It Now!
Sep 30, 2013
Momma said there'd Be days Like This
There are two concepts in life that my Mom has repeated to me over and over again.
It could always be worse. Mainly reminding me that no matter how tough something seems, there is always someone out there that has it tougher. It's not as bad as it seems when you put things in perspective like this.
and
If it were easy, anybody could do it. This pertaining to any challenge in life that I faced. For instance, when I had 3 month old twinsand a less than stellar marriage, she repeated this to me every day when I wanted to give up on getting my college degree.
The point is, I have been raised to be tough. To know that life is not always on an easy path. Not that I'm trying to say I've had it hard....I know that I haven't at all. I have just been taught to make the best of any situation that I'm in.
If it were only me being affected by Harper in the NICU, I think I could handle it.
If I didn't have to worry about how it affected my husband and my children, I'd be better off.
But knowing that it is breaking their hearts in addition to breaking mine, is just awful.
K saw a new mom with her baby in the store the other day and we both just kind of stared at her.
She looked up at me with those little puppy dog blue eyes and said "Momma, I don't like seeing babies cause it makes me really sad that we don't have ours with us."
I couldn't agree more.
It feels like everywhere we go, there are babies.
Except with us.
Our nursery feels huge and empty.
The diaper stash that we have built up seems like a taunting clown every time I walk by it.
I have never wanted to change a dirty diaper so badly in all my life.
It just hurts.
And I know I have no right to be so upset.
Harper has been in the NICU for one week.
One week is nothing.
I know parents who try years to conceive only for it to never happen.
Or adoptive parents who are waiting months on top of months to get their baby home.
I know in comparison to lots of sick children and lots of different circumstances, we have tons
to be grateful for......but that doesn't make it hurt less.
Yesterday was a really tough day for Harper.
But I think the worst part of it was that we were completely caught off guard.
We normally call to check on him every single morning and every single night in addition to visiting him twice a day. We live about 45 minutes away from the hospital so being up there 24/7 is just not an option. But we check on him often and we make sure that in addition to us visiting him, someone else like our parents visit him while we aren't there.
Saturday night we decided to stay home instead of going back up to the hospital.
We were exhausted and just had to have some time to catch up on stuff around the house and just have 5 minutes to sit and rest. We basically needed to recharge.
Sunday morning, we were up early running around getting ready for church.
And packing stuff to head directly to the hospital after church.
So we didn't get a chance to call and check on him.
When we got there on Sunday, we were blown away with bad news.
We knew there would be good days and there would be bad ones in the NICU, we had been warned about this....but at the same time, I guess we were hopeful because we hadn't had a bad day yet.
All babies are born with a hole in their heart.
It's called a PDA.
{Please note, I'm not a doctor. If you want real details, you should google. This is just what I've learned so far.}
When normal term babies are born, they take their first breath and this hole closes up on it's own.
With preemies, this doesn't always happen.
We were told on day one that Harper's closed up on it's own so no worries.
I didn't think another thing about it and I certainly didn't know that it could open back up again.
But it did.
As soon as I heard the words "heart" and "surgery", I lost it.
I cried more in that NICU that I have since my Granddad died 11 years ago.
I just couldn't handle it.
I know I scared the girls, and that's the worst part of it.
But I just couldn't stop crying because I was so so scared for him.
Bless K. She just sat beside me as I stared at Harper and cried, and she rubbed my back.
I have always rubbed their backs when they are sad or upset and so she was doing to me what she knew would comfort her.
That was one of the sweetest moments I have ever experienced in my life.
After getting home from the hospital and evaluating the situation, we feel much better about it.
Talking to friends who are nurses, researching, and just taking a step back and gaining some perspective made us get a grip on the situation.
This is completely common with preemies.
So common that without me even saying what the problem was on social media, tons of people guessed correctly and had gone through the exact thing with their babies.
Most of the time, the medicine closes the hole in the heart back up, making surgery not necessary.
When surgery is necessary, it's a super simple procedure that doctors perform very often.
I can handle all of this.
And I know Harper can too.
But for now, we have learned our lesson.
Call and check on him no matter what so we won't be caught off guard when we get to the NICU.
And remember that one second with a preemie can be great and the next second can be awful.
It's a roller coaster.
Oh and just because my posts have been so serious and have made so many of you cry (including myself) lately, I'll add in a few things just to make you laugh...well and for me to remember.
I still look pregnant.
Which, in the big scheme of things, I could care less about right now.
The number on the scale and the size of my fat gut are the least of my problems....
but I realized yesterday that most brand new moms don't even leave their house for several weeks after childbirth.
And if they do, they have a baby with them so it's obvious that they still just have a belly.
I don't have that.
I look like a normal pregnant lady....but let me just tell you that if a random stranger comes up and rubs my stomach, we are going to have problems.
I told FH I was going to get a baby doll and wear it in a sling and just pretend.
Then it won't matter that I'm still in maternity clothes....well, until someone tries to take a look at said baby and realizes it's a doll.....
Also, last night we went out to eat.
We waited FOREVER for our food.
I mean, forever.
The service was disastrous.
Our food was cold and it was the wrong food.
Maybe it's the fact that I'm a ticking time bomb these days, or maybe it was just a predictable end to a really bad day...but I had enough.
Poor FH just sat back and watched me ask for a manager.
I should note that I have NEVER in my life asked for a manager.
I try my best not to ever complain...but I was MAD.
I went off on that poor manager about how horrible everything was and it wasn't acceptable.
FH was secretly praying that I didn't say "and our baby is in the NICU and he had a bad day and you can't even get our dinner right!"
But I didn't, I kept it classy.
Or as classy as a momma on the end of a rope can keep it.
And now I'm pretty sure FH will never let me live down "that time when I asked for a manager"
Bottom line, don't mess with a momma bear who has a lot on her mind.
You will regret it.
Happy Monday everybody. Here's to a great week ahead of us. :)
Pin It Now!
It could always be worse. Mainly reminding me that no matter how tough something seems, there is always someone out there that has it tougher. It's not as bad as it seems when you put things in perspective like this.
and
If it were easy, anybody could do it. This pertaining to any challenge in life that I faced. For instance, when I had 3 month old twins
The point is, I have been raised to be tough. To know that life is not always on an easy path. Not that I'm trying to say I've had it hard....I know that I haven't at all. I have just been taught to make the best of any situation that I'm in.
If it were only me being affected by Harper in the NICU, I think I could handle it.
If I didn't have to worry about how it affected my husband and my children, I'd be better off.
But knowing that it is breaking their hearts in addition to breaking mine, is just awful.
K saw a new mom with her baby in the store the other day and we both just kind of stared at her.
She looked up at me with those little puppy dog blue eyes and said "Momma, I don't like seeing babies cause it makes me really sad that we don't have ours with us."
I couldn't agree more.
It feels like everywhere we go, there are babies.
Except with us.
Our nursery feels huge and empty.
The diaper stash that we have built up seems like a taunting clown every time I walk by it.
I have never wanted to change a dirty diaper so badly in all my life.
It just hurts.
And I know I have no right to be so upset.
Harper has been in the NICU for one week.
One week is nothing.
I know parents who try years to conceive only for it to never happen.
Or adoptive parents who are waiting months on top of months to get their baby home.
I know in comparison to lots of sick children and lots of different circumstances, we have tons
to be grateful for......but that doesn't make it hurt less.
Yesterday was a really tough day for Harper.
But I think the worst part of it was that we were completely caught off guard.
We normally call to check on him every single morning and every single night in addition to visiting him twice a day. We live about 45 minutes away from the hospital so being up there 24/7 is just not an option. But we check on him often and we make sure that in addition to us visiting him, someone else like our parents visit him while we aren't there.
Saturday night we decided to stay home instead of going back up to the hospital.
We were exhausted and just had to have some time to catch up on stuff around the house and just have 5 minutes to sit and rest. We basically needed to recharge.
Sunday morning, we were up early running around getting ready for church.
And packing stuff to head directly to the hospital after church.
So we didn't get a chance to call and check on him.
When we got there on Sunday, we were blown away with bad news.
We knew there would be good days and there would be bad ones in the NICU, we had been warned about this....but at the same time, I guess we were hopeful because we hadn't had a bad day yet.
All babies are born with a hole in their heart.
It's called a PDA.
{Please note, I'm not a doctor. If you want real details, you should google. This is just what I've learned so far.}
When normal term babies are born, they take their first breath and this hole closes up on it's own.
With preemies, this doesn't always happen.
We were told on day one that Harper's closed up on it's own so no worries.
I didn't think another thing about it and I certainly didn't know that it could open back up again.
But it did.
As soon as I heard the words "heart" and "surgery", I lost it.
I cried more in that NICU that I have since my Granddad died 11 years ago.
I just couldn't handle it.
I know I scared the girls, and that's the worst part of it.
But I just couldn't stop crying because I was so so scared for him.
Bless K. She just sat beside me as I stared at Harper and cried, and she rubbed my back.
I have always rubbed their backs when they are sad or upset and so she was doing to me what she knew would comfort her.
That was one of the sweetest moments I have ever experienced in my life.
After getting home from the hospital and evaluating the situation, we feel much better about it.
Talking to friends who are nurses, researching, and just taking a step back and gaining some perspective made us get a grip on the situation.
This is completely common with preemies.
So common that without me even saying what the problem was on social media, tons of people guessed correctly and had gone through the exact thing with their babies.
Most of the time, the medicine closes the hole in the heart back up, making surgery not necessary.
When surgery is necessary, it's a super simple procedure that doctors perform very often.
I can handle all of this.
And I know Harper can too.
But for now, we have learned our lesson.
Call and check on him no matter what so we won't be caught off guard when we get to the NICU.
And remember that one second with a preemie can be great and the next second can be awful.
It's a roller coaster.
Oh and just because my posts have been so serious and have made so many of you cry (including myself) lately, I'll add in a few things just to make you laugh...well and for me to remember.
I still look pregnant.
Which, in the big scheme of things, I could care less about right now.
The number on the scale and the size of my fat gut are the least of my problems....
but I realized yesterday that most brand new moms don't even leave their house for several weeks after childbirth.
And if they do, they have a baby with them so it's obvious that they still just have a belly.
I don't have that.
I look like a normal pregnant lady....but let me just tell you that if a random stranger comes up and rubs my stomach, we are going to have problems.
I told FH I was going to get a baby doll and wear it in a sling and just pretend.
Then it won't matter that I'm still in maternity clothes....well, until someone tries to take a look at said baby and realizes it's a doll.....
Also, last night we went out to eat.
We waited FOREVER for our food.
I mean, forever.
The service was disastrous.
Our food was cold and it was the wrong food.
Maybe it's the fact that I'm a ticking time bomb these days, or maybe it was just a predictable end to a really bad day...but I had enough.
Poor FH just sat back and watched me ask for a manager.
I should note that I have NEVER in my life asked for a manager.
I try my best not to ever complain...but I was MAD.
I went off on that poor manager about how horrible everything was and it wasn't acceptable.
FH was secretly praying that I didn't say "and our baby is in the NICU and he had a bad day and you can't even get our dinner right!"
But I didn't, I kept it classy.
Or as classy as a momma on the end of a rope can keep it.
And now I'm pretty sure FH will never let me live down "that time when I asked for a manager"
Bottom line, don't mess with a momma bear who has a lot on her mind.
You will regret it.
Happy Monday everybody. Here's to a great week ahead of us. :)
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Sep 28, 2013
Snoring on the Operating Table
If you missed any of this story, you can check out part one here and part two here.
Freaking out is an understatement.
Suddenly everyone in the room was running around frantically.
I remember just trying to find FH's face so that I could see if he was okay.
He was holding it together...barely.
And when he told me that he loved me, I just about lost it.
I was so SO scared.
As far as I knew, lungs don't develop until 34 weeks.
I knew this because K&A were preemies and they were on steroids to develop their lungs.
So how could this baby, the one I had prayed so SO hard for, how could he make it so early?
The prep for a C-section is scary under any circumstances, I'm sure.
But this all happened so quickly that I didn't even know where to look.
I do remember telling the nurse that I felt like such a baby.
I usually pride myself on being a tough cookie, but I was a hot mess.
It's one thing to be scared for yourself, another thing to be scared for your unborn child and
worried about your husband.
The room was freezing.
And FH couldn't be in there.
I can't say the epidural was horrible.
I can't say any one part was horrible, just the entire experience.
It didn't take long before he was out.
And I heard him cry.
Was that even possible?!
I didn't think so.
He sounded like a tiny little puppy dog right when it's born, just a tiny whimper.
And they whisked him away upstairs to the NICU.
Then it took forever for them to stitch me back up.
So long that I was shivering...and I'm pretty sure I fell asleep on the operating table.
And by "pretty sure", I mean I was snoring.....
What can I say? It was a long day!!
It was about 3 hours before we got a status on him.
And all I wanted was some ice and my baby.
6 days later and Harper is a champ.
He is breathing with the help of an oscillator, but is slowly coming off of it.
He doesn't get milk yet, he just gets continuously fed through a tube in his belly button.
We are hoping he will start getting milk tomorrow and then will gain some weight.
He was 1 lb, 9 ounces and 12 inches long.
Born Sept 22, 2013.....with a due date of December 29.
It's obvious he couldn't wait to get into this world and we are okay with that.
I guess we know he listens well.....on last Saturday night I said "I wish Baby Harper would just hurry up and get here!"
And just like that, he listened.
Be careful what you wish for.
I can't wait to watch Harper grow strong and beat the odds stacked against him.
He's already in so many hearts and prayers.
Now, I just can't wait til he is home in his crib. :)
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Freaking out is an understatement.
Suddenly everyone in the room was running around frantically.
I remember just trying to find FH's face so that I could see if he was okay.
He was holding it together...barely.
And when he told me that he loved me, I just about lost it.
I was so SO scared.
As far as I knew, lungs don't develop until 34 weeks.
I knew this because K&A were preemies and they were on steroids to develop their lungs.
So how could this baby, the one I had prayed so SO hard for, how could he make it so early?
The prep for a C-section is scary under any circumstances, I'm sure.
But this all happened so quickly that I didn't even know where to look.
I do remember telling the nurse that I felt like such a baby.
I usually pride myself on being a tough cookie, but I was a hot mess.
It's one thing to be scared for yourself, another thing to be scared for your unborn child and
worried about your husband.
The room was freezing.
And FH couldn't be in there.
I can't say the epidural was horrible.
I can't say any one part was horrible, just the entire experience.
It didn't take long before he was out.
And I heard him cry.
Was that even possible?!
I didn't think so.
He sounded like a tiny little puppy dog right when it's born, just a tiny whimper.
And they whisked him away upstairs to the NICU.
Then it took forever for them to stitch me back up.
So long that I was shivering...and I'm pretty sure I fell asleep on the operating table.
And by "pretty sure", I mean I was snoring.....
What can I say? It was a long day!!
It was about 3 hours before we got a status on him.
And all I wanted was some ice and my baby.
6 days later and Harper is a champ.
He is breathing with the help of an oscillator, but is slowly coming off of it.
He doesn't get milk yet, he just gets continuously fed through a tube in his belly button.
We are hoping he will start getting milk tomorrow and then will gain some weight.
He was 1 lb, 9 ounces and 12 inches long.
Born Sept 22, 2013.....with a due date of December 29.
It's obvious he couldn't wait to get into this world and we are okay with that.
I guess we know he listens well.....on last Saturday night I said "I wish Baby Harper would just hurry up and get here!"
And just like that, he listened.
Be careful what you wish for.
I can't wait to watch Harper grow strong and beat the odds stacked against him.
He's already in so many hearts and prayers.
Now, I just can't wait til he is home in his crib. :)
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Just a Tiny Touch
We all take things for granted.
As humans, as parents, even as children.
We know we can count on the sun to shine, the leaves to change, the weather to be unpredictable.
My kids have a roof over their head and our fridge has plenty of food in it. (Or at least it normally does anyways.....)
There are also plenty of things that we don't miss until they are not there.
A baby crying in the middle of the night.
Most new moms cringe when they hear their baby cry because it means they have to get up out of bed and miss more sleep.
I would LOVE for my baby to be at home crying in the middle of the night. It would be better to wake up every 4 hours to a baby instead of waking up to rock my breast pump.
Seeing a baby.
I know several adoptive Moms that would kill to see their baby just one time on their wait.
They cling to updated pictures as their only lifeline to a child that is living halfway around the world.
This makes me grateful that I can just go sit and stare at Baby Harper.
I guess we all have our challenges in motherhood.
One thing that I can say for sure about giving birth is that it's just like Big Brother, "expect the unexpected"
I'll get back to telling the birth story soon, promise.
I didn't get to see Baby Harper for 24 hours after he was born because I had to stay in bed with my IV. It was frustrating having everyone come tell me all about him. A child that I brought into this world but hadn't so much as laid my eyes on yet.
But when I finally got to see him, the anticipation was totally worth it.
My son was so handsome. Tiny but handsome. Little but fierce. Small but feisty.
We are so lucky to have tons of family and friends that wanted to love on the baby immediately.
But FH and I made one rule: no touching!
His skin is very sensitive so we didn't want a lot of people touching him.
Not to mention, we had to share a lot of firsts with other people so Mom and Dad needed something that they didn't have to share.
The nurses changed his first diaper, they'll get to feed him and it will still be awhile before we can rock him and love on him.
But yesterday, around 130 hours after he entered this world (there's an app for that....), his Dad and I got to touch him.
His hands are too tiny to hold.
And we can't pick him up and hug him.
But just putting my finger in his hand and then placing two fingers on his head was the most amazing feeling.
I touched my son.
And cried like a little baby.
There will be many more times when I hold his hand, give him a high five after a ballgame, or spank his little booty for talking back....but there will never, EVER be a moment as precious as that.
One touch made me weak in the knees. And so, SO grateful to be called his Mom.
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As humans, as parents, even as children.
We know we can count on the sun to shine, the leaves to change, the weather to be unpredictable.
My kids have a roof over their head and our fridge has plenty of food in it. (Or at least it normally does anyways.....)
There are also plenty of things that we don't miss until they are not there.
A baby crying in the middle of the night.
Most new moms cringe when they hear their baby cry because it means they have to get up out of bed and miss more sleep.
I would LOVE for my baby to be at home crying in the middle of the night. It would be better to wake up every 4 hours to a baby instead of waking up to rock my breast pump.
Seeing a baby.
I know several adoptive Moms that would kill to see their baby just one time on their wait.
They cling to updated pictures as their only lifeline to a child that is living halfway around the world.
This makes me grateful that I can just go sit and stare at Baby Harper.
I guess we all have our challenges in motherhood.
One thing that I can say for sure about giving birth is that it's just like Big Brother, "expect the unexpected"
I'll get back to telling the birth story soon, promise.
I didn't get to see Baby Harper for 24 hours after he was born because I had to stay in bed with my IV. It was frustrating having everyone come tell me all about him. A child that I brought into this world but hadn't so much as laid my eyes on yet.
But when I finally got to see him, the anticipation was totally worth it.
My son was so handsome. Tiny but handsome. Little but fierce. Small but feisty.
We are so lucky to have tons of family and friends that wanted to love on the baby immediately.
But FH and I made one rule: no touching!
His skin is very sensitive so we didn't want a lot of people touching him.
Not to mention, we had to share a lot of firsts with other people so Mom and Dad needed something that they didn't have to share.
The nurses changed his first diaper, they'll get to feed him and it will still be awhile before we can rock him and love on him.
But yesterday, around 130 hours after he entered this world (there's an app for that....), his Dad and I got to touch him.
His hands are too tiny to hold.
And we can't pick him up and hug him.
But just putting my finger in his hand and then placing two fingers on his head was the most amazing feeling.
I touched my son.
And cried like a little baby.
There will be many more times when I hold his hand, give him a high five after a ballgame, or spank his little booty for talking back....but there will never, EVER be a moment as precious as that.
One touch made me weak in the knees. And so, SO grateful to be called his Mom.
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Sep 26, 2013
That Baby is Coming out, like Right Now
In case you missed part one of this story, you can read it here.
So, what did you just say?
I would be in the hospital until the baby was due....you realize that the baby isn't due
until Christmas right?
And it's September currently, correct?
A million thoughts went through my head.
Mainly, that I was going to get fired because no way could I miss work that long.
Oh and that if I were in the hospital that long BEFORE the baby got here, what would I do
once he got here? Miss more work?Or not have to worry about it at all since I would be unemployed??
I kept telling myself that no matter what happened, it will all work itself out.
I get this attitude from my mom, and I appreciate it.
No matter what, it could always be worse. It will be okay.
What's that they say? It will all come out in the wash.
So, once we got into a room, they had to put an IV in.
Easy, right?
WRONG.
My hands were so swollen that you couldn't get to a vein.
In fact, you know how you can blow up a platstic glove and make a balloon?
That's what my hands were like.
I lost count after I was poked about 12 times.
Each nurse that tried would get the needle in, but it wouldn't thread...whatever that means.
To me it just meant that they were able to stab me with the needle, only to have to take it out and
try all over again.
I could tell it was extrememly frustrating to each of them.
And I was able to appreciate the fact that throughout all of their stabbing, they felt horrible about it.
Of course, this doesn't make it hurt any less.
But I could tell that I was being taken care of really, really well. So that was something.
Finally, after calling in the anesthesia guy (I think that's who it was) and him failing, and then calling
in his boss, we had an IV.
At the same time, we had an ultrasound going.
Another lady was waiting to give me a steroid shot for Baby Harper's lungs to develop....and she realized she had no fighting chance of getting me free enough to shoot me in the hip, so she just stabbed me in the thigh.
She said "Normally, we don't do it like this but given the circumstances..." And she stabbed me.
Also, another girl decided to go ahead and do my catheter. Why not? There wasn't much going on...
I had like 10 people around me, doing things to me, scaring me.
I just remember crying.
I was so scared for the baby...and I had no idea what was going to happen at this point.
NO IDEA.
As they were doing the ultrasound, I felt an excruciating pain in my stomach.
I knew it wasn't normal. At all.
It felt like there was a hole in my stomach. And the hole was numb.
I know that is a confusing description, but that's the best I got.
And I FREAKED OUT.
And so did everyone else in the room.
That's when the doctor said, "Lora, this is too dangerous. For you and the baby. We are going to have this baby right now."
This baby?? You mean the one who is supposedly the size of a cucumber and hasn't even reached the 3rd trimester?? Are you completely sure?
To be continued.....
Pin It Now!
So, what did you just say?
I would be in the hospital until the baby was due....you realize that the baby isn't due
until Christmas right?
And it's September currently, correct?
A million thoughts went through my head.
Mainly, that I was going to get fired because no way could I miss work that long.
Oh and that if I were in the hospital that long BEFORE the baby got here, what would I do
once he got here? Miss more work?
I kept telling myself that no matter what happened, it will all work itself out.
I get this attitude from my mom, and I appreciate it.
No matter what, it could always be worse. It will be okay.
What's that they say? It will all come out in the wash.
So, once we got into a room, they had to put an IV in.
Easy, right?
WRONG.
My hands were so swollen that you couldn't get to a vein.
In fact, you know how you can blow up a platstic glove and make a balloon?
That's what my hands were like.
I lost count after I was poked about 12 times.
Each nurse that tried would get the needle in, but it wouldn't thread...whatever that means.
To me it just meant that they were able to stab me with the needle, only to have to take it out and
try all over again.
I could tell it was extrememly frustrating to each of them.
And I was able to appreciate the fact that throughout all of their stabbing, they felt horrible about it.
Of course, this doesn't make it hurt any less.
But I could tell that I was being taken care of really, really well. So that was something.
Finally, after calling in the anesthesia guy (I think that's who it was) and him failing, and then calling
in his boss, we had an IV.
At the same time, we had an ultrasound going.
Another lady was waiting to give me a steroid shot for Baby Harper's lungs to develop....and she realized she had no fighting chance of getting me free enough to shoot me in the hip, so she just stabbed me in the thigh.
She said "Normally, we don't do it like this but given the circumstances..." And she stabbed me.
Also, another girl decided to go ahead and do my catheter. Why not? There wasn't much going on...
I had like 10 people around me, doing things to me, scaring me.
I just remember crying.
I was so scared for the baby...and I had no idea what was going to happen at this point.
NO IDEA.
As they were doing the ultrasound, I felt an excruciating pain in my stomach.
I knew it wasn't normal. At all.
It felt like there was a hole in my stomach. And the hole was numb.
I know that is a confusing description, but that's the best I got.
And I FREAKED OUT.
And so did everyone else in the room.
That's when the doctor said, "Lora, this is too dangerous. For you and the baby. We are going to have this baby right now."
This baby?? You mean the one who is supposedly the size of a cucumber and hasn't even reached the 3rd trimester?? Are you completely sure?
To be continued.....
Pin It Now!
Sep 25, 2013
Just a Little Headache
Thursday night was a normal night.
I was swollen, like I've been for awhile.
And in case you were wondering, my doctor knew I was swollen.
But with perfect blood pressure, there was nothing to worry about.
We were monitoring it.
As long as my bp stayed down, the swelling was normal.
Not comfortable, but normal.
I was up a lot with a headache.
Tossing and turning, but let's be honest, I've been doing that most of this pregnancy, so no big deal.
Friday was a big day at work.
Like one of my biggest of the year.
And I can't tell you that I love my job, but I can tell you that I take pride in what I do.
In other words, on an important day like that, pretty much nothing could make me call in and
let everyone at work down.
I knew I felt awful Friday morning and once I got out of the shower, I realized that I just
couldn't go to work.
My head hurt so badly that I could barely open my eyes.
I've never had migraines before, but it was obvious that I had one.
So I called in....and slept the ENTIRE day.
And still felt awful.
And then I repeated that on Saturday.
We went to the girls' volleyball games on Saturday because there aren't that many of them so
I would hate to let Kate down by not showing up.
Do you realize how often they blow a whistle at a volleyball game??
I'm here to tell you that it's A LOT.
Like a lot, A LOT.
Sunday was worse.
I didn't sleep. Time was seriously ticking by and I had no idea what to do.
I couldn't eat, I couldn't see straight. It was just pretty miserable.
But to me, I just knew I had to tough it out.
Being pregnant is not easy, especially for me.
For some reason, I just don't do pregnant well, so I figured this was just another day.
FH kept checking on me all throughout the day on Sunday, since I was in bed.
Finally around Sunday afternoon he came in from cutting the grass and I guess he just
realized that I was going downhill.
He wanted me to call the doctor.
My face was so swollen at this point, that my eyes were almost swollen shut.
My neck had rolls, like swollen rolls.It was quite disgusting.
Basically it was not your average swelling.
Hands and feet, even my legs have been constantly swollen.
But my face looking like I had gotten attacked by a swarm of bees was a new look....one that was not
working for me.
The doctor told me to come in and get my blood pressure tested.
And she said that if it was fine then they would just send me home with some migraine medicine,
no big deal.
So of course I thought, no big deal.
We left the house with just that thought, we would be right back.......
My mom met us at the hospital and as soon as she saw my face she was in shock.
She had seen me the day before too so she had something to compare it to.
It was bad.
The nurse took my bp and thought her machine was messed up.
I'm not sure what it read. I was alone and freaking out.
Then FH came into the room and it read 215/110....or something along those lines.
Out of control.
She immediately told me they were admitting me.
And we were in shock.
We just wanted my headache to go away, not an overnight stay in the hospital.
And then my doctor told me that I would be at the hospital at least until the baby was born.......
To be continued. Pin It Now!
I was swollen, like I've been for awhile.
And in case you were wondering, my doctor knew I was swollen.
But with perfect blood pressure, there was nothing to worry about.
We were monitoring it.
As long as my bp stayed down, the swelling was normal.
Not comfortable, but normal.
I was up a lot with a headache.
Tossing and turning, but let's be honest, I've been doing that most of this pregnancy, so no big deal.
Friday was a big day at work.
Like one of my biggest of the year.
And I can't tell you that I love my job, but I can tell you that I take pride in what I do.
In other words, on an important day like that, pretty much nothing could make me call in and
let everyone at work down.
I knew I felt awful Friday morning and once I got out of the shower, I realized that I just
couldn't go to work.
My head hurt so badly that I could barely open my eyes.
I've never had migraines before, but it was obvious that I had one.
So I called in....and slept the ENTIRE day.
And still felt awful.
And then I repeated that on Saturday.
We went to the girls' volleyball games on Saturday because there aren't that many of them so
I would hate to let Kate down by not showing up.
Do you realize how often they blow a whistle at a volleyball game??
I'm here to tell you that it's A LOT.
Like a lot, A LOT.
Sunday was worse.
I didn't sleep. Time was seriously ticking by and I had no idea what to do.
I couldn't eat, I couldn't see straight. It was just pretty miserable.
But to me, I just knew I had to tough it out.
Being pregnant is not easy, especially for me.
For some reason, I just don't do pregnant well, so I figured this was just another day.
FH kept checking on me all throughout the day on Sunday, since I was in bed.
Finally around Sunday afternoon he came in from cutting the grass and I guess he just
realized that I was going downhill.
He wanted me to call the doctor.
My face was so swollen at this point, that my eyes were almost swollen shut.
My neck had rolls, like swollen rolls.
Basically it was not your average swelling.
Hands and feet, even my legs have been constantly swollen.
But my face looking like I had gotten attacked by a swarm of bees was a new look....one that was not
working for me.
The doctor told me to come in and get my blood pressure tested.
And she said that if it was fine then they would just send me home with some migraine medicine,
no big deal.
So of course I thought, no big deal.
We left the house with just that thought, we would be right back.......
My mom met us at the hospital and as soon as she saw my face she was in shock.
She had seen me the day before too so she had something to compare it to.
It was bad.
The nurse took my bp and thought her machine was messed up.
I'm not sure what it read. I was alone and freaking out.
Then FH came into the room and it read 215/110....or something along those lines.
Out of control.
She immediately told me they were admitting me.
And we were in shock.
We just wanted my headache to go away, not an overnight stay in the hospital.
And then my doctor told me that I would be at the hospital at least until the baby was born.......
To be continued. Pin It Now!
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