Her Blanket

I have a few obsessions in life.
Taking pictures of my kids is definitely one of them.
And another, that I've had since a college freshman
Is crochet.

I love to hold a hook and whip some yarn into something special.
Blankets are my most common creation.
How many have I made?
At least 50.

Baby blankets became my preoccupation.
At a time when I could not have babies,
Friends, coworkers and acquaintances could.
And rather than feel sorry for myself,
I kept busy.
If you knew me and you had a baby during about a 5 year period,
Okay closer to 10 years,
You got a blanket.

Then life changed and I found myself with much less crocheting time.
But I continued to make a few things.
Some booties,
Some hats,
Christmas tree ornaments,
The occasional scarf,
And baby blankets for special families.

Both of the times that I have learned I was pregnant,
One of my earliest thoughts has pointed to
The blanket that I would make my baby.

So Macie's blanket was started before we even knew she was a girl.
And put aside for a month or so.
And then finished in the hospital,
The day before her birth.

Finishing the blanket made it feel okay,
That she could be born.
Although so early,
The blanket meant that I could be ready.

I love her blanket.
Truly.
And that may sound silly,
But I do.

And so does she.

Before the blanket starts to pill,
And age,
I wanted to put up a couple of pictures.
Of my babe, asleep with her special handmade blankie.
I poured so much love into this blanket,
And I like to imagine that she can feel it wrapped around her as she sleeps.

March, The Third Week

This third week of March
Has sure been a doozy.
It started with part of my tooth breaking off.
Ephram is having a hard time adjusting to the time change.
And I was up with him past 5am two nights this week.
Another two nights this week, I was up until just before 5am with my baby girl.
Who has (at least) three molars pushing through her gums.
Poor baby.
A trip to the dentist revealed a very bad cavity in the tooth behind my broken one.
So I spent two hours in a dentist's chair.
And hope that I avoided what would be my first root canal by the narrowest of margins.
1/8 of a millimeter, the dentist said.
I also had a cold,
That packed a fever,
And some lovely aches and pains.
My Charlie, who's been making some wonderful progress,
Experienced a complete behavior regression this week.
You don't want to know what that involves.
Trust me.
I don't either, to tell you the truth.
My bed was puked on and then peed on this week,
On back-back days necessitating sheets and quilt washed when I was running a fever.
And I threw out my neck somehow.
Leaving me incapable of turning my head to the left for a day,
And twinges when I did for another two days.

There's a lot that I could complain about.
But I don't feel like it.
Because I can't help but remember
My last third week of March.

31 weeks pregnant with my baby girl.
Every day spent at a doctor's office,
Sometimes two doctors, back-back.
Hooked up to machines to monitor my unborn baby,
My blood pressure,
My heart rate.
Blood drawn every day.
The knowledge,
Terrifying,
That it was bad.
I just knew it.
My luck was running out.
Desperation to save my baby,
Tortured by a body that refused to be normal,
Heartache from a need to be with my boys...
And knowing our separation was imminent.

Tomorrow marks one year from my hospital admittance.
It was the first night ever in his life that I did not put Ephram to sleep.
That fact crushed me more than anything else that night.

I wasn't told just how bad things got for me until well after the fact.
My platelets crashed, my renal activity declining,
I was told later that my doctor met with her colleagues
To discuss the very real possibility of a stroke,
Or worse.

I'll admit it now -
I was a total basket case.
I was so paranoid, of everything really.
They were smart not to key me in.
I tried very hard to focus on the positive,
But it was often too hard for me to do.
Which is not the face that I put on for most,
And definitely not the side I chose to show my friends and family.
Because I try to hold myself to a policy to not accentuate the negative in my relationships,
Of trying to focus on the positive.

In many ways that tactic left me very alone in this case.
And put the burden of my anguish on a select few
That I owe everything to.

Even then, through my despair and anxiety, I was aware of my luck.
I am so grateful that this greatest trial of mine also
Gave me a very real, tangible and beautiful reward.
And taught me so very much about
What I can do,
What I can face,
What I have been given,
And humility in knowing that I need help to do the most important things in life.

At first I could not help but to keep a list of
The Things That Pre-Eclampsia and HELLP Took Away From Me
When I discussed it with my select few,
I tried to make it a joke.
But really it wasn't.
It was a great coping mechanism.
No matter the unhealthy aspect of keeping such a list,
It was that list that finally allowed me to
Let go of my guilt over a situation that was truly out of my control.

You don't know how it feels...
Or if you do,
I'm sorry.
To see your baby lying somewhere,
Helpless,
And to know that the only reason
She is in pain
Is because I failed her.
Finally now, I can say that I know it wasn't my fault.
And believe it.

They say I should not have any more babies.
I don't know.
I feel like I'm missing another.
And I can say, now, a year away from that time
I would live through that six months of pain in a heart beat all over again
To be blessed by a lifetime with a beautiful baby.

Still,
When I had a pregnancy scare a month ago,
My only thoughts were terrified.
So clearly, I'm not there yet.
And maybe I never will be.

If there's one thing I've learned
Through my struggles with fertility
And trials faced through pregnancy
And parenting
It is that, His will be done.
And I trust His wisdom.
Because now, with distance,
I see all of the miracles brought by the way this came to pass.
And I know that it was meant to happen.

Lately the question I have been posed,
Over and over,
Is have I fully recovered?
Will I ever be recovered completely?
I have closed a cycle of coping,
Very recently accepting this ordeal for what it was.
I've let go of most of the anger that I held,
Much of it misdirected.
I let go of my list.
Sometimes I can tell people that
Her name is Macie Drew and she's 11 months old
And leave out the part about how she was 2 months early.
(Although I always think it to myself, even if it is not spoken.)

Overwhelmingly, I feel like I am supposed to have moved on.
Be grateful for what I have.
A beautiful, healthy, thriving daughter.
A family that is complete and together.
A body that is still ticking away,
And capable of sitting in that dentist's chair for two hours,
Of taking care of her little ones' needs.
Of pushing through the annoyance of a minor cold and a stiff neck.

Oh, am I grateful.
I don't know words that better express the feeling.
But I also have a very hard time not talking about what we survived.
And I know that it's expected that I let go of it.
But letting go of it almost feels like abandoning the struggle.
And forgetting the journey
That I'm so proud of,
That is one of my most defining accomplishments.

And I haven't been able to do that yet.
So I decided,
I'll write it down.
In the most honest and raw form that I can.
And though you can't see the tears that I cried as I typed this tonight,
They're here.
And they mean the world to me.
They aren't all sad.
They are happy,
They are grateful,
They are proud,
They are fulfilled.
They are in love for my daughter,
And my sons.
And in hope for the continued journey our family will take.

And now I'm making a promise to myself.
I'm going to leave these words here.
And do my best to leave the sorrow and self pity here, too.
Not abandoned, because they're recorded.
Because I understand that those emotions are an important part of the learning, too.

Lately I have been given, and seen, the opportunity to pay it forward.

To give to people the gift that meant more to me than all else last March and April.
The gift of hope.
Sharing our story, offering support to others,
Relating and listening.
That's where I'm focusing this energy now.


I'll continue to funnel my energy on the good that came from our crisis.
My daughter.
She'll celebrate her first birthday one week from today.
And I'll remember the struggle for her.
And because it defines me
And our family.
The worst of this past year will still be there,
But I'll share it only when it can help someone else.
I'm going to accent the best of this past year.
Because that's the legacy that I really want her to own.

So this March, this third week
It's been a doozy.
But definitely better than last year.
This week I escaped a root canal by 1/8 of a millimeter,
But last year my family escaped a worse fate by such a narrow margin.
And I am so grateful to be here to experience life.

Memories Unstoppable

I have a slideshow that plays in my head.
It's personal,
Intense,
Drives sadness,
Incites triumph,
But mostly, it's just mine.
I suppose that this is probably normal.
I hope it is, at least.
That trauma survivors replay events.
And I assume that it is normal for it to intensify as anniversaries approach.

Anniversaries are approaching.
And I feel in some ways like I am on a train.
The course is chosen,
The tickets bought.
I can't get off,
Even if I feel we are going too fast,
Or not fast enough.
The control of this journey is not mine.
I know I'm going to pass every stop,
See every sight,
And eventually get to some destination.
I hope that destination is fulfilling and peaceful.

Don't get me wrong.
I am grateful.
Tremendously so.
I had some terrifying months.
Yet those months also brought great joy.
And I know that I am blessed.
That a few months are but a blip on the radar for the lifetime I get to spend with my daughter.

But still,
The train goes on,
Passes through many emotions.
Often unexpected,
Unstoppable.

This week last year we had a significant snowstorm.
I also turned 36.
And though we were stuck in the house for a week,
I remember it as a magical time.
I had just learned my baby was to be my first daughter.
Ephram and Charlie were so excited about the snow.
I felt that all was perfect.
I was secure in my marriage, my health and my family.
I was safe.
I also remember that it was at my appointment a week later that it all started to change.

Tonight as I rocked Macie to sleep,
I watched the snow fall outside.
And again the pictures cascaded in my head.
Memories so dear,
Intense,
Mine.

One year past... this is where it starts.
The stream of anniversaries will soon hit.
First appointment that resulted in modified bed rest.
First hospital stint with a husband half a world away.
Restrictive bed rest while caring for an autistic son and a toddler.
Warning of hospitalization.
The hospitalization itself
The day I got the headache to end all headaches.
The day that ended with a beautiful girl.
The heartbreak in learning of her double collapsed lungs,
The pain of seeing my baby suffering.
The triumph of her speedy turnaround.
The day that she started to eat.
The day that she was tube- and wire-free.
Her homecoming.
Watching the bond develop with her brothers.
The night we had to call 911.
The day that she first completed a feeding without any supplements.
The day she finally hit the growth charts.

I hope I can live through these months remembering all that I have,
And not dwelling on all that could have been.

So, my apologies if I wax nostalgic too much in the next few months,
If I seem teary,
Or if I talk too much about something that doesn't seem as huge to everyone else as it is to me.
This is a glimpse of the pictures that play in my head.
They fly by when I'm falling asleep,
Getting ready for the day,
Watching my sleeping daughter,
Or just at a random moment of no extraordinary consequence.
This, the unstoppable stream.

 

Unexpected

We just got back from a fabulous vacation to Southern California.
Eventually I'll blog about the whole thing...
But for now I'm skipping to the present.

Yesterday I was unpacking.
Overwhelmed, I realized that I needed a place to make stacks of our belongings.
My eyes turned to our kitchen counter -
Which was completely covered in other stuff.
So I set about clearing off that counter.

Just before we left our home for the airport, I'd packed my backpack.
When I'd opened it, I realized that it was full of the things that I had packed the last time.
The time that I left my house for an undetermined amount of time in the hospital.
I hastily grabbed those things out of the backpack and left them in a stack
On the kitchen counter.
The items needed for this trip were thrown in,
And out the door we ran.

Last night I reached this stack from my backpack,
Innocently sitting in the middle of my counter,
And I saw these two little teeny tiny beanie babies.
I was hit.
With one of the biggest breakdowns I've had since Macie's birth.
Just like that.
So unexpected.

These little things -
The little monkey,
The little lobster -
Were used for at least an hour, three times a day, every day of my hospital stay.
That was the amount of time that my doctors prescribed for Macie to be monitored.
As I fought against a cruel set of circumstance,
And tried to keep her growing inside.

Macie was so small still, and so was my belly.
The monitors would not stay put on their own,
And they also had a hard time picking up Macie's movement.
So these little things -
The little monkey,
The little lobster -
Were used to put additional pressure on the monitor so that the test would work.

When I saw them last night,
The memory flooded in.
Sitting in that bed.
Trying to relax,
To pass the time with books, iPad, playing cards and phone calls.
Listening for her movement.
Listening to her heartbeat.
Hoping for accelerations.
Hearing over, and over, and over
That she wasn't having the accelerations they'd like to see.
But she was passing by the skin of her teeth.

As a parent,
"Passing by the skin of her teeth,"
Is the opposite of reassuring.
It's like when you have something tested at the doctor,
Like a thyroid,
And when the results come back normal you want to relax.
And then you realize that you are just a little point away from being outside of the normal range.
"Passing by the skin of her teeth"
Made me think that she needed more attention,
And worry that she wouldn't get it because she had just barely passed.

I remember when they decided that I had to have the baby that day,
As soon as possible,
The nurse came in and asked me if I wanted to be put on the monitor.
I did, so very much.
I wanted to listen to my baby's heart,
To believe it was strong,
And knowing that I wouldn't ever hear it like that again.
Even though I should have had seven more weeks to enjoy it.
Realizing that the sound of my heart was about to be taken from her.
Seven weeks before nature intended.
Because of a condition that nobody can control.
So unexpected.

I will always be a little sad that this pregnancy ended early.
Sometimes I will be very sad, as I was last night.
I do not deny that the experience brought at least as much blessing as it did pain.
And I would not trade a day I have had with my Macie now.
But I will also allow myself to feel sad when it hits.

I threw away almost every thing that I had in that backpack.
But these little things -
The little monkey,
The little lobster -
I kept.

My Little Princess

My sister Keira sent this dress for Macie shortly after we learned she was a girl,
Before any pre-eclampsia drama,
And it was not just the first dress we had for her,
But also the very first outfit.

At the time that I was placed on bed rest,
And even when I went into the hospital,
And thus - when Macie was born,
I had very few clothes for her.
This may seem strange,
But realize I was bed rested during the first week of the third trimester,
It really was still quite early.
I thought I would have so much more time,
But I didn't.

So, when Macie was born I had a few 3 month outfits,
And a couple of random gifts from family.
And this dress.
This beautiful dress.

This dress became an anchor for me.

I held it,

I pictured it,

I dreamt of my little girl.

That she would be born,

She would grow,

And someday I'd be able to put this dress on her.

When she was in the NICU,

I came home from the hospital and touched this dress every day.

Once, during that first scary and long week,

I held it as I slept.

I did these things to remind myself that she wouldn't always be weak,

Or small,

Or dependent on so much aide.

It turns out that in crisis,

I become a creature of habit.

In some ways, perhaps borderline OCD.

But I did what I had to do to keep my sanity,

To be strong when I was with my girl.

The day I put this dress on her,

I cried

In remembrance of another time. 

I realized that it was all true.

It wasn't a dream.

It was reality.

What a difference a few short months can make.

And what a strong, little (yet so big) princess my Macie has become.

My Stay In Bed

Before I jump in to this tale, there is a back-story that is important to understand.  I always wanted to have babies.  Badly.  But when my husband and I were first married, and ready to start a family, we were thwarted.  For eight years we tried and tried to have a baby.  It just wasn't happening.  I have PCOS, and at that time in my life I wasn't even ovulating during my cycles - no matter how much of a fertility drug I tried.  We were devastated.  We took two years off of trying, and then decided to adopt.  That is how Charlie joined our family.  During that time I was also diagnosed with chronic hypertension, everyone has to have something fun passed down to them genetically, right?

And then a miracle happened.  I got pregnant.  I so completely believed that this was an impossibility that I thought away all of the early signs.  I realized the truth when I was just shy of 11 weeks along with Ephram.  I will never forget the day I took a pregnancy test, and that plus sign popped up in seconds.  The moment that I saw my baby on the ultrasound monitor was magic, and that feeling has never left me.  But I was panicked.  I was afraid that my chronic hypertension would harm the baby.  That I would develop preeclampsia, and he would need to come early.  I carefully researched the hospitals around me and chose the one closest that appeared to have the best NICU.  But then another miracle happened.  My hypertension was dormant during the pregnancy.  I even went off all medications while I was pregnant.  Ephram was born a term baby, and the only complication of the pregnancy was that he was breech and I needed a c-section.

So, when the time came that I could get pregnant again, Andy and I decided to test out my body.  I hoped I would be able to repeat it.  I wanted a chance to be pregnant again without all of the worry.  To enjoy feeling my baby grow and to have a 'normal' pregnancy.  We were pregnant in three cycles.  We were both very happy.  The kids were too, and Charlie was especially ecstatic.

This pregnancy was different from the start.  First of all, I knew that I was pregnant before I even hit four weeks.  How?  Because I was sick before then.  And I was sick a lot.  Every day for the first four months I was sick at least 5 times, sometimes 10.  And when that disappeared I had some horrible acid reflux, back pain and restless leg syndrome.  But, I was still thrilled to be pregnant.  And I was very relaxed and trying to revel in the experience.  I waited impatiently to feel her move, and then I smiled every day as I felt her wriggle around in there.  Sure I was sick, but my body proved it could get pregnant again... and I was having a girl!  For the first 27 weeks, everything looked great.

And then at my 28 week appointment, my doctor noticed my blood pressure was starting to elevate.  During this pregnancy I remained on my pre-existing medications, and they worked to control things until about 28 weeks.  My doctor also said that I looked a little bloated around my face and my feet.  She ordered pre-eclampsia tests, called PIH labs, to make sure I was okay.  So far I was.  But she asked me to start taking it easy, to be aware of how I was feeling, and she increased the frequency of my prenatal appointments.

Still, I wasn't worried.  I figured it was just the stress of the moment that had driven my blood pressure up.  But I did start to take it easier just in case.  Andy had a trip to Taipei during week 30.  I was worried about being with the kids alone for a full week, so we hired a nanny part time for the week to help out.  I had a routine OB appointment that Wednesday.  When I went in my blood pressure was through the roof.  They sent me straight to the maternity triage at the hospital for monitoring.  My kids were with a nanny that was supposed to leave in an hour.  My husband was in Taipei.  Thank heaven for good friends that went over to my house to watch Charlie and Ephram.  I was in the hospital for almost eight hours that day.  My blood pressure never dropped significantly while I was there.  They called in Maternal Fetal Medicine, and a perinatologist talked to me about preeclampsia and how they were going to manage it.  I was put on two new blood pressure medicines.  And I was told to go on bed rest at home.

Andy came home from Taipei to help.  I can't imagine what it was like for him to be half a world away when I had to tell him that I was in the hospital.  But he is such an amazing husband that he did exactly what I needed.

I thought that when he came home my blood pressure would regulate.  Besides elevated blood pressure, the only sign of preeclampsia that I had at the time was low platelets.  Normal people have at least 150k and I had 144.

I took it easy.  (As much as you can with a barely two year old and a six year old autistic child.)  I cut back on everything that I could.  I stopped working, I cut back on my piano lessons.  I took help when it was offered.  I asked for help where I needed it.  (Which was harder to do than I imagined.)  I stayed down as much as I could throughout the day.  And my numbers improved during the first week.

And then they started to skyrocket again.  My perinatologist ordered a test to check my protein levels, and I received an official diagnosis of mild preeclampsia.  And my platelets dropped to 105.  They changed the dosage of my medications a couple of times to try to control it, but it wasn't working.

At week 32 I had an appointment with my perinatologist.  My baby was not passing her non-stress test.  And had barely passed the one earlier in the week.  My blood pressure was not dropping.  So after the biophysical profile (an ultrasound test) the perinatologist asked me to come back the next day.  She told me to prepare for a hospital stay.  And to bring a bag.

I was oddly at peace that night.  I knew what was happening.  The doctor had told me that I would likely be admitted until the baby came.  I was 32 weeks pregnant.  They would deliver me at 37 weeks at the latest.  That meant I could be there for 5 weeks of bedrest.   I was terrified to be in the hospital, alone and bored, for five full weeks.  But at least I knew what to expect.  I contacted all the people that I needed to that night.  I packed a bag.  And went to the appointment the next day.

I had an epiphany that night.  I was suddenly so grateful for the research that I'd done when I was pregnant with Ephram.  I might not have needed the NICU for him, but I would probably need it for my girl.  I realized that all of my kids came to me the way that they did for a reason.  If we'd been able to get pregnant in the beginning, we wouldn't have chosen adoption when we did.  That happened so that we could learn patience, yes.  But also so that Charlie would join our family.  If I'd had the complications with Ephram, I wouldn't have chosen to get pregnant again.  Ephram's pregnancy was as it was so that I would have faith, yes.  But also so that I would chose to repeat the pregnancy and have a daughter.  This experience has also given me many lessons, but I can't quite verbalize them yet.

I was admitted to the maternity ward at 4pm that Friday afternoon.  My husband and kids stayed with me until about 9pm.  My blood pressure was so out of control that they needed to put me on magnesium to protect my body.  The magnesium also brought my blood pressure down.  I received my first steroid shot to help mature my daughter's lungs that night, and another the night following.  The second night I was moved up to the antepartum ward for the remainder of my stay.

For the next two days my blood pressure was so beautifully low that they talked about releasing me back home to bed rest.  And then the fluctuations started.  I would be low in the morning and then skyrocket in the afternoon.  They tried to help me by changing my medications.  For awhile I didn't even know what I was taking, but I was swallowing pills all day and all night.  My platelets rose for the first few days, but it was a false reading resulting from the steroid shots.  They started to fall again back down close to 100.

During my OB's visit on Tuesday, she told me what they had all been conferencing about.  (I was the big talk in her practice and Maternal Fetal Medicine at the time.)  They were not going to release me back home.  They were worried about my ability to tolerate the swings in pressures, and the amount and timing of the meds I was on was too much for me to manage at home.  They were hoping to get me to 35 weeks of gestation.

I was scared to have a preemie, but 35 weeks sounded like it was pretty far along.  I prepared myself for two more weeks in the hospital.  I told Andy what the plan was.  He took a leave from work the day I went into the hospital to take care of the boys.  And he did an amazing job with what he calls "The Dad Show".  He brought the boys in to see me most days, and two days during the week he came to see me by himself.  I don't know what I would have done without those visits and without Skype.  I am a person who hates being alone.  And I love my family and my boys.  Being without them was torture.  Especially Ephram, who I'd never been away from before.  Ephram got a little mad at me while I was gone and refused to say good night to me or give me hugs.  I don't blame him.  I would be mad if my mom disappeared too.  But he did play with me in the hospital.  I enjoyed changing his diaper and putting his pajamas on when they came to visit - it made me feel a little more normal.  And I talked to Charlie about his day at school and what he was doing at home.  He really stepped up while I was away and tried to be as helpful as he could.

Looking back at pictures, I don't know how I missed the bloating in my face.  Between the two pictures above, the perinatologists had decided to put me on lasix.  Lasix is a diuretic, and the thought was that my blood pressure might go down if I could drop the water weight.  They hoped that I would lose 8 pounds in 3 days.  I lost 7 pounds in 6 hours, and 11 pounds by day 2.  I was definitely retaining water.

What got me through my hospital stay?  Mostly my visits from home and friends.  The nurses were all very nice, and I was so grateful for their conversation.  I finished crocheting a blanket for my daughter.  I played solitaire with actual cards to keep my hands busy.  I finished three magazines.  I used my iPad incessantly.  I watched a lot of TV.  Especially Friends.  There is something about that show that makes me laugh, and laughing was what I needed.  The boys brought me a stuffed bunny, and yes, I slept with it at night.  It made me feel a little less lonely.  Okay, a lot less lonely.  I talked on the phone to two or three people a day, usually for at least a half an hour.  And I slept as much as I could.

But my pressures were not improving.  Nor were my platelets.  On top of that I started to develop a nagging headache.  The perinatologist and my OB came in to see me together on Wednesday.  They told me that they were ordering me to stop eating and drinking at midnight so that I would be ready for a possible c-section on Thursday.  They would look at all of my information in the morning and make a decision.

I panicked.  I called Andy.  We quickly called around to find care for the boys in case this happened.  I called my Mom.  I was 33 weeks pregnant that day.  Andy came to the hospital as soon as he could after we got the news.  When he walked in I was in the middle of a consult with a neonatologist.  We learned what could possibly happen with our little girl.  Andy received a tour of the NICU, but I wasn't allowed to go because of my pressures.  When he left that night I grabbed on to him as hard as I could.  I was really scared.  33 weeks was earlier than I wanted.

The next morning I was woken up to take my pills at 6:30.  At 7 a phlebotomist came to draw my blood for PIH panels.  At 8 I was wheeled to the ultrasound room to take a look at the baby.  She was estimated to be 4lb 11oz, and looked healthy.  At 9 I was allowed to eat breakfast.  I took a huge sigh of relief.  I called Andy and told him it was probably off.  He was relieved too.  My friend Candice stopped by for a visit, and I prepared myself to be in the hospital longer.

And then the headache of all headaches started.  I started to feel nauseous.  My pressures started to go up sooner than usual, and higher too.  My lunch arrived at the same time my OB did that day.  The nurse was in my room and I'd just asked for Tylenol.  They left to consult in the hall.  I picked up my sandwich and took a bite.  My doctor came back in and told me to put the sandwich down.  I was going to have a baby.  As soon as they could get in the OR.  It was 1:40pm.

The date was March 29th, my Aunt Debbie's birthday.  My baby was due on May 16th.

I called Andy in tears as I told him it was back on.  I asked the nurse if they could put the monitors on me so that I could hear my baby.  I called my dad and asked him if he could buy the plane tickets for my mom after all.  I talked to my little girl and told her that I loved her.  I said a prayer.  Or 50.  The nurse was in and out of my room getting things ready.  She also gave me IV tylenol for my headache, which I was so grateful for.  Andy was running around at home trying to get in touch with people to watch the kids again.  I watched Friends.  I am so glad that show is on several times during the day.  I tried not to panic.  I tried to have faith in the medical team.  I wanted to sleep but couldn't.

The nurse came in and said that it looked like I would be going into the OR at 7.  I'd eaten half a bagel at 1, and they wanted to give it a chance to clear my stomach.  Andy got there at 3:30.  About a minute later the nurse came in and informed me that there'd been a change in plans.  I would be going into surgery between 4 and 4:30.  The anesthesiologist came to talk to me about the surgery, the spinal, and to ask how my last c-section went.  I asked for the anti-nausea meds right then.  I was already feeling nauseous and knew that the surgery would send me over the top.  The neonatologist that was on staff came in to introduce himself.  I don't remember what else he said.

I had prepared myself to be in the hospital until delivery.  I had not yet prepared myself to deliver.  I suddenly worried about the spinal.  About being alone in the OR - because I wanted Andy to go with the baby to the NICU after she was born.  I just then remembered all of the fun things that go along with delivery.  (Yes, that's sarcastic.)  At 33 weeks I hadn't really yet started to think about any of this.  It hit me that I wasn't going to feel her moving inside of me anymore.  I was scared for her and I was scared for me.  I asked the nurses when I'd be able to see my baby.  They told me that as soon as I could stand they would wheel me there, and that it would likely be about 6 hours.  I gripped Andy's hand and tried to listen to him as he tried to calm me down.  They started back up the magnesium again to protect my body from seizures post delivery.  And then, thank heaven for the one positive thing about magnesium, I started to calm down.

We started the long wheel/walk to the OR at 4:35.  And I knew that I was going to do it.  I was going to have a baby.  And I would get through it.  And I would see my little girl.  And Andy would stay with her.  I knew I had the best doctors in the area.  And a lot of them.  They put on my hat, and opened the double doors to the OR.  Andy scrubbed in and soon followed.

To be continued...

The Dot

So, you may have noticed that I practically did no blogging for 3 months this fall.  Hence the Halloween posts at Christmas time.  I had a very good reason.

At the beginning of the school year, I was walking Charlie to school one day and I realized that I felt odd.  And that the odd feeling was familiar, from a time that I was super confused about what was happening to my body... about two and a half years earlier.  And then I remembered that I'd been sick that weekend.  Suddenly.  And then it was over.

And I knew.  And the knowledge sent shivers up my spine... good shivers.

It had been three months since Andy and I had started to try for another baby.  We didn't know if it was possible, but we hoped.  After all, it took 10 years for Ephram to come along.

And here I was, three months later, sure that I was pregnant.  But the fact that I'd already been sick threw me for a loop and I started to wonder if I might be more than just a few weeks pregnant.  So, even though Andy was out of town for business, I took a pregnancy test the next morning.  I was not surprised, but really happy when it was positive.  I called Andy in California and told him right away.  And then I scheduled a doctor's appointment.  Because I wasn't sure how far along I was, they scheduled an ultrasound for me 3 days later.  Andy was still in California, and this is what I got to see that day...

My little one was very little - nothing but a little dot.  I was only 5 weeks pregnant... or so we thought at the time.  And, I'd already been sick.  More than once.  With Ephram I barely was sick the entire time.  Clearly this was going to be a different pregnancy.

Because I have high risk pregnancies, my OB wanted to see me right away.  I went in a week later and another ultrasound was done.  Nothing was seen in the sac yet, so they thought that it might not be a viable pregnancy.  But it was also on the cusp of when something might be there, so I was told to be cautiously optimistic.  I did my best and went back a week and a half later for a third ultrasound.

And there was our new baby!  They decided I was probably a week less along than my dates suggested.  I was thrilled and happy that all the nausea was leading to something real.  Because, yes I had a lot of nausea.  And this is when I stopped blogging.  We went to Disneyland and had a great time... although a large part of the reason we had to take rest days was to accommodate my morning sickness.  From early October through November the months are a complete haze!

At 12 weeks we had the fourth ultrasound of the pregnancy.  This is more ultrasounds then we had with Ephram!  This one was to test on growth and look for anomalies that could indicate birth defects.  The baby checked out perfectly, (and may I say looked really cute!)

A couple of weeks later, just days before Thanksgiving, my nausea finally began to subside enough that I felt like a person again.  We had a fantastic Thanksgiving that I may be blogging about soon.  And I started to enjoy being pregnant.  I first felt my little Dot move at 13 weeks.  I started trying to take quiet moments every day or two to really concentrate and try to feel my little baby.  Sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn't.  Once I got to 17-18 weeks I could feel the baby move every day.  Christmas was wonderful.  I felt really good and enjoyed watching my two boys experience the Christmas magic.  I also kept thinking about how I will have a six month old, possibly crawling into the presents next year.

I marked the midway point of the pregnancy during the week between Christmas and New Year's.  Traditionally, this is when the doctor requests an ultrasound to check growth and to determine gender.  Of course, there were no ultrasounds being scheduled that week due to the holidays.  I had to wait until I was just a day shy of 21 weeks to see my baby again.  Once Christmas and the boys' birthdays were over, I had too much time to wonder about the gender of our newest addition.  The anticipation was almost too much for me.  I can't say that I wanted a boy or a girl more ... I just wanted to know and to start preparing for the baby to join us in a few months!

We went in for the big ultrasound yesterday.  The tech asked us if we wanted to know the gender before she started, and I told her we absolutely did!  The baby must have heard me, because as the tech put the doppler wand on me it hovered right over the important area first.  The baby's gender was 100% clear about 10 seconds into the ultrasound.

Yeah, that was a teaser.  If you received my email yesterday or are connected to me on Facebook, you already know anyway.  I just can't bring myself to post my unborn child's genitals on the internet.  What if it's still around when they are a teenager?  I will never hear the end of it.  So instead, there is my adorable daughter's profile.

That's right, we're having a girl.

The boys are all ecstatic.  When we told Charlie we were pregnant way back in Week 4, he told us that he was going to have a sister.  He has been very strong in that conviction ever since.  There has been a lot of 6-year old gloating in the house for the last day!

Our little girl will join us this May.  My current official due date is May 18.  But since it started out as May 11 and has gone as far out as May 22, I am considering that a loose prediction.  I can't wait to meet her.

38 Weeks & 6 Days Pregnant

Hallelujah

Today has been a great day so far, and it is only 1pm. So good, that I can hear the Hallelujah Chorus being sung in my head.

Why is it so good?

#1 - Today Little Bit and I have completed 37 weeks of gestation. Why does that matter? It means that we are "full term"... he can be born safely at any time now. I really did not think we would make it this far!

#2 - Charlie has been really sick for the last three days and all sorts of thoughts have been going through my head, like... what if I need to go to the hospital now, how can I have anyone watch my sick child? He even started to show signs of a croup cough last night... (he is more susceptible to it for longer than some other children because of his background.) But, he did not have a croup fit last night, and I did not have to sit in a steamy bathroom for hours, AND today he sounds much less congested!

#3 - Andy started his vacation today... and, with our current need to deliver the baby a week early, will be home until early February. I am looking forward to spending so much time with my husband, even if we will be super tired during the majority of it.

#4 - We finally received disclosure from the state for Charlie today. We have been waiting for this since August. What is disclosure? All the information the state has about his background, which they are required to provide to an adoptive family prior to the adoption. We were waiting for this to be able to move forward with adoption support negotiations. And adoption support negotiations are the LAST STEP that we need to complete prior to setting a court date. Of course, this is right before everyone leaves for holiday vacations, and with the baby coming any day... it will still be awhile before we are able to close the loop. I am sad that this could not happen before our new little boy joined the family, but so relieved to feel that the completion is now tangible.

#5 - By the end of today I will be almost ready for Christmas! I really waited to the last minute to even start getting ready this year... and I am so happy to be almost done now. All we have left is one last run on Monday that we plan to make after my next doctor's appointment.

Yesterday I was feeling pretty down, and ready to not be pregnant anymore. Today I am still ready to not be pregnant anymore, but I am feeling pretty encouraged! I am also wondering what else might actually go right. :)

Making Blankets

I had a roommate my first year in college, Carolvee, who taught me how to crochet the right way. Before she worked with me on how to hold the yarn and make an even stitch, my creations looked a little bit like floppy elephant ears. Incidentally, Carolvee was excellent at teaching crafts. She taught nearly all of our entire dorm floor (40 girls) how to crochet well - and most of the people made blankets for friends or family as Christmas presents that year. Once everyone else had finished their blankets, they were pretty much done with it. Not Carolvee or I. For the rest of that year, and several years after, I continued to crochet at a rate of at least one blanket every three weeks. Imagine my joy when my friends and sisters started having babies and I found that I could make smaller, cuter blankets to cuddle little ones at a rate of anywhere between 3 days and 2 weeks!

For years and years I made a blanket for pretty much everyone I knew that was having a baby. Several people also got booties, sweaters and hats. In a way, it was how I dealt with my unsatisfied baby obsession. It is just in the last couple of years that I started to step away from being able to keep up with this hobby... not only were more and more babies being born to people I knew at a phenomenal rate, but I also started coping with the absence of my own baby in other ways.

When I found out that I was pregnant, and was in so much stress about the well being of my little baby, Andy had a great idea. He said, "Why don't you make our baby a blanket?" I went out and bought yarn that day. And it worked. Instead of obsessing over blood pressure and other such things, I was able to escape for hours at a time into the monotonous world of crocheting. We didn't know the gender yet, so I chose to make a white blanket with a green trim. When it was done I felt a little bit closer to my little boy.


But that wasn't enough. Now that I knew he as a little boy, I wanted to make something a little more gender-specific. Plus, I was only 5.5 months pregnant. So we went back to Michael's to buy more yarn, and I made him this little play blanket.



I still had some yarn leftover when I was finished (four days after starting it,) so I decided to make something for Charlie too. I'd like to introduce you to Jeffory... the baby Charlie started caring for this summer after exclaiming that our baby should be named Jeffory. I made him a little play blanket in corresponding colors to match Little Bit's. Charlie was pretty excited, and now Jeffory looks like this every night...


I've also made a hat and have started a bigger blanket for Charlie. It is nice to be crocheting again, and to have something to occupy my time while we wait for our boy to arrive.

The Boy is Breech

Today we had another routine appointment for our almost-37th-week of gestation. The last four times we have gone in for an appointment there has been a new surprise. This week may have been the biggest.

Last week we found out that I had excess amniotic fluid. They aren't sure why, and there are lots of possibilities. Because of this I was feeling him move less, and so I was put on a schedule of twice weekly NST's to monitor his movement and weekly ultrasounds to check my fluid levels.

A couple of days ago the boy was moving around like crazy. I was hoping that he was moving out of his slightly-transverse position into the more traditional one. As soon as the ultrasound started this morning we learned that this was not the case. Little Bit decided to do a complete flip, and his head is now resting right by my left rib cage.

In good news, there is a lot less pressure on my right rib cage now, so I am not having as much pain there. Also good news, my fluid volume has decreased. Bad news, this will make it more difficult for Little Bit to flip back to where he should be. Very few babies are able to turn on their own after 37 weeks, although it can happen.

Right now he is in a complete breech position, with his legs folded underneath him... which means we are now planning to head for a c-section around 39 weeks. Yes, there is another procedure we could try, where the doctor would try to manually turn him, but with everything that has happened in this pregnancy we don't feel like it is our best option. It is possible that procedure would end in a c-section itself, and then he would have two weeks less to grow. Might he turn again on his own? Yes, it's possible... but I'm not holding my breath.

On the positive side, this means that we may actually get to plan the birth to a degree ... a luxury that very few get. Within the week we should have a date that we expect to go in for the surgery... unless he has turned again. :)

A Few Nursery Pictures

Andy and I finally got Little Bit's nursery "done" to a point at the end of November. In reality, there is more for us to do, but we are holding off a little and working on other projects first... since he won't be using the nursery much for at least a few months! I still need to find shelves that I like and I need to put his name up on the wall... but I won't be posting his name until after he's born probably anyway. :)

Now both Charlie and Little Bit have transportation themed rooms... but they are both different, and I think they are cute! Having the crib and everything put up makes me realize how close we are to having our baby come home. Andy, Charlie and I have all spent time in this room imagining.

This was the beginning of a nesting craze that I have gone through, which has had moments of intensity interspersed with days that I don't feel like doing anything. I just wish I could focus the urge to clean and organize on the things that need to be done first. I spent hours working on our pantry... Not really the biggest priority right now!

We'll be "full term" on Friday... just 4 short days away. It is all getting so close!