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. :)
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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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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
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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!
















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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 backpack and 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!