Wednesday, June 29, 2011
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Survival!
Last weekend I survived our first slumber party. 12 girls ranging in age from 9-12 stayed over, yes 12.
Here are some of my observations in no particular order:
1. 9-11 year old girls apparently think bodily functions are as much comic genius as boys do.
2. Even tom boys enjoy a good game of Spin the Nail Polish.
3. Girls have a 5 minute memory. Everyone made their own pizzas and by the time they spent 5 minutes in the oven heating, nearly everyone had forgotten what they put on it and which one was hers.
4. Chocolate dipped cookie dough balls are far cooler than any homemade cake with canister icing.
5. The decibel level of 12 screaming girls has to be nearly as loud as a rock concert. My ears are still ringing.
6. Pets find these events very traumatizing.
7. Slumber parties have a higher than average potential for drama. There’s likely to be tears by at least one kid, two in our case.
8. No matter if kids usually go to bed at 8:00 p.m., if you get a group of them together, they’re all going to stay up past 1:00 a.m., easy.
9. A late night does not mean a late morning.
10. Donuts are the breakfast of choice for the morning after.
11. My daughter’s friends are pretty good kids.
12. If you have a boy & girl close in age, at least two of the attendees will deem themselves the future Mrs. (insert brother's name here), and decorate their take-home pillowcase as proof.
13. 12 girls will easily devour 24 bags of microwave popcorn.
14. Pulling off a successful slumber party requires lots of planning and very limited amounts of free time.
15. The morning after makes you feel & look like a grown woman who tried to stay out partying all night.
Here are some of my observations in no particular order:
1. 9-11 year old girls apparently think bodily functions are as much comic genius as boys do.
2. Even tom boys enjoy a good game of Spin the Nail Polish.
3. Girls have a 5 minute memory. Everyone made their own pizzas and by the time they spent 5 minutes in the oven heating, nearly everyone had forgotten what they put on it and which one was hers.
4. Chocolate dipped cookie dough balls are far cooler than any homemade cake with canister icing.
5. The decibel level of 12 screaming girls has to be nearly as loud as a rock concert. My ears are still ringing.
6. Pets find these events very traumatizing.
7. Slumber parties have a higher than average potential for drama. There’s likely to be tears by at least one kid, two in our case.
8. No matter if kids usually go to bed at 8:00 p.m., if you get a group of them together, they’re all going to stay up past 1:00 a.m., easy.
9. A late night does not mean a late morning.
10. Donuts are the breakfast of choice for the morning after.
11. My daughter’s friends are pretty good kids.
12. If you have a boy & girl close in age, at least two of the attendees will deem themselves the future Mrs. (insert brother's name here), and decorate their take-home pillowcase as proof.
13. 12 girls will easily devour 24 bags of microwave popcorn.
14. Pulling off a successful slumber party requires lots of planning and very limited amounts of free time.
15. The morning after makes you feel & look like a grown woman who tried to stay out partying all night.
Thursday, June 23, 2011
"Silence isn't always golden...
sometimes it's just plain yellow."
This is an anonymous quote I put in the front of that journal I was keeping when Piper was a baby. It's not a very smooth collection of thoughts because, let's face it, I had a newborn and an 18 month old, was working full time and taking 12 hours of college courses. But since I've been posting this vein of the early days of the kids AND today is Sis's 11th birthday, I thought I'd share an excerpt from said journal, written in 2000:
"At the hospital the new babies are transported to and from the nursery via clear, plastic bassinets atop rolling wooden cabinets. It was by way of one of those "porta-cribs", that I was given my first glimpse of my about-to-change life.
Now of course, I knew that the baby inside - the tiny, beautiful, health, blue-eyed girl with the blonde fuzzy head - would change my life, but I thought I was prepared for the transition from one child to two. Raising a healthy girl, after my first child, my son's, traumatic birth and first year - that was a change I was expecting; anxiously, excitedly.
Piper Leighel came into this world easily and swiftly. After looking at her fuzzy black and white image nearly every 2 weeks for the almost 5 months, I could hardly wait to see her in color! The instant I saw the doctor lift her from me, I knew in my heart that all of those possible complications from her SUA weren't there. In my soul, I knew that she was perfect. I held her immediately, creating such a bond that, looking back, I realize took me days to forge with Wyatt. I could touch her, smell her, feed her - an opportunity that came achingly late with him. That instant closeness was there without effort, without worry. I wanted only to enjoy it and found myself pushing down the feeling of jealousy and being cheated of this intense feeling with Wyatt, just to be her mom that first night. It was bliss.
After spending the next morning with Piper, I took her to the nursery to shower. When she returned, it was then I saw a small piece of paper held to the side of the "porta-crib" with Scotch tape. A piece of handwritten paper that held the introduction to my new life. It simply said "REFER." Refer; a small word meaning hint to, direct toward.
I paged the nurse - "What does 'refer' mean?" I asked. She told me that Piper's hearing had been tested and "we just want to check it again this afternoon." She assured me not to worry - these tests were new and babies often 'refer' due to fluid in their ears from birth. So I didn't worry. After all, she had passed her all of her SUA tests so far - the renal sonogram, the echocardiogram, all her chromosomes were complete and located in the right places. She was just a bit small. And this was just another test for her to pass and prove again how perfect she was.
They came for her the next morning to test her again. I went with her. They put electrodes on and headphones in. They started the test and left. I sat there watching her, watching the screen of the laptop computer and watching Todd and Wyatt through the nursery window. I didn't know what I was looking for but I watched. All they had said was that she needed to be asleep and still. Each time she moved, the test began again. It seemed like an eternity before the test was finished. When it was, the same word stared at me from the computer screen. Right ear - REFER. Left ear - REFER.
'Stupid broken machine', I thought to myself."
This is an anonymous quote I put in the front of that journal I was keeping when Piper was a baby. It's not a very smooth collection of thoughts because, let's face it, I had a newborn and an 18 month old, was working full time and taking 12 hours of college courses. But since I've been posting this vein of the early days of the kids AND today is Sis's 11th birthday, I thought I'd share an excerpt from said journal, written in 2000:
"At the hospital the new babies are transported to and from the nursery via clear, plastic bassinets atop rolling wooden cabinets. It was by way of one of those "porta-cribs", that I was given my first glimpse of my about-to-change life.
Now of course, I knew that the baby inside - the tiny, beautiful, health, blue-eyed girl with the blonde fuzzy head - would change my life, but I thought I was prepared for the transition from one child to two. Raising a healthy girl, after my first child, my son's, traumatic birth and first year - that was a change I was expecting; anxiously, excitedly.
Piper Leighel came into this world easily and swiftly. After looking at her fuzzy black and white image nearly every 2 weeks for the almost 5 months, I could hardly wait to see her in color! The instant I saw the doctor lift her from me, I knew in my heart that all of those possible complications from her SUA weren't there. In my soul, I knew that she was perfect. I held her immediately, creating such a bond that, looking back, I realize took me days to forge with Wyatt. I could touch her, smell her, feed her - an opportunity that came achingly late with him. That instant closeness was there without effort, without worry. I wanted only to enjoy it and found myself pushing down the feeling of jealousy and being cheated of this intense feeling with Wyatt, just to be her mom that first night. It was bliss.
After spending the next morning with Piper, I took her to the nursery to shower. When she returned, it was then I saw a small piece of paper held to the side of the "porta-crib" with Scotch tape. A piece of handwritten paper that held the introduction to my new life. It simply said "REFER." Refer; a small word meaning hint to, direct toward.
I paged the nurse - "What does 'refer' mean?" I asked. She told me that Piper's hearing had been tested and "we just want to check it again this afternoon." She assured me not to worry - these tests were new and babies often 'refer' due to fluid in their ears from birth. So I didn't worry. After all, she had passed her all of her SUA tests so far - the renal sonogram, the echocardiogram, all her chromosomes were complete and located in the right places. She was just a bit small. And this was just another test for her to pass and prove again how perfect she was.
They came for her the next morning to test her again. I went with her. They put electrodes on and headphones in. They started the test and left. I sat there watching her, watching the screen of the laptop computer and watching Todd and Wyatt through the nursery window. I didn't know what I was looking for but I watched. All they had said was that she needed to be asleep and still. Each time she moved, the test began again. It seemed like an eternity before the test was finished. When it was, the same word stared at me from the computer screen. Right ear - REFER. Left ear - REFER.
'Stupid broken machine', I thought to myself."
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Friday, June 17, 2011
tested
I've had a few tests over the past weeks, and not the multiple choice/short answer kind. Both my patience and my composure, outside of parenting :), was pushed. I'm pretty ok with the way I handled myself, but none of the situations are over and I'll continue to be involved with both. Sometimes life feels like loop of those tests, just a different course number.
I think in the midst of those times, you draw on your memory banks and realize the questions on this test look vaguely familiar and you respond based on the fact that you know you've passed a similar test in the past.
Following on the heels of my last post about my fabulous child and his humble beginnings, my second child has an even more miraculous story and was a game changer for our family. Among the rushes of hospital stays and doctor appointments and medication schedules, somehow I got pregnant. Yeah, God has a real sense of humor... in fact, I found out I was pregnant just 4 days after Todd and I, traveling home with Wy from a hospital visit, said "yeah, I think one is going to be just fine for us." Some encouragement from my grandma (cuz, really, mom couldn't help since she'd never had 2 little ones at a time!) and processing time, helped me to realize that maybe I could do two kids 18 months apart.
And then at 20 weeks, we had our first sense of what was in store with this baby. At a routine sonogram, we found out that the baby had a single umbilical artery. SUA carries with it a whole host of potential complications, including increased rate of miscarriage, intrauterine growth retardation, early delivery, and 25% of these babies are born with severe birth defects. I was monitored weekly for the rest of the my pregnancy and fast forward 19 weeks, Sis was born - small, but healthy.What an awesome two days of soaking it all in we had, and then they took her for a hearing test...
I think in the midst of those times, you draw on your memory banks and realize the questions on this test look vaguely familiar and you respond based on the fact that you know you've passed a similar test in the past.
Following on the heels of my last post about my fabulous child and his humble beginnings, my second child has an even more miraculous story and was a game changer for our family. Among the rushes of hospital stays and doctor appointments and medication schedules, somehow I got pregnant. Yeah, God has a real sense of humor... in fact, I found out I was pregnant just 4 days after Todd and I, traveling home with Wy from a hospital visit, said "yeah, I think one is going to be just fine for us." Some encouragement from my grandma (cuz, really, mom couldn't help since she'd never had 2 little ones at a time!) and processing time, helped me to realize that maybe I could do two kids 18 months apart.
And then at 20 weeks, we had our first sense of what was in store with this baby. At a routine sonogram, we found out that the baby had a single umbilical artery. SUA carries with it a whole host of potential complications, including increased rate of miscarriage, intrauterine growth retardation, early delivery, and 25% of these babies are born with severe birth defects. I was monitored weekly for the rest of the my pregnancy and fast forward 19 weeks, Sis was born - small, but healthy.
Wednesday, June 15, 2011
Friday, June 10, 2011
The days ahead
On December 22, Dad woke up early and decided to go home to take a shower. Remember how things happen when he leaves? Well, this time was probably what I can call a starting point for that!
Medical personnel came in and asked for consent to move the baby to the Children's Hospital NICU because he stopped breathing 3 times throughout the night and had to be resuscitated. I still get a little fired up thinking back because I didn't even know this was happening as I woke every 3 hours through the night for vital checks and pumping. They should have told me.
In those days, baby goes, momma stays. He went, by ambulance.
In less than 30 minutes, the NICU was on the phone with me getting consent to place a chest tube for a pneumothorax, likely caused by poor resuscitation technique in the delivery room. A collapsed lung was the cause of his breathing difficulties. The chest tube was placed at 27 hours old.
A few hours later, hospital security arranged for me to make my first trip to the NICU to see him. I don't minimize any family's stay in the NICU, regardless of length of stay or amount of medical intervention. Any stay in the NICU is life changing, is perspective orienting, is scary and is profound for that family.
That first visit was all it took for me to realize I wasn't about to be in one hospital while he was in another. I'd already spent more than 30 hours listening to other new moms and their babies while not having mine in the room with me. I checked out AMA and went straight back to the NICU. I'm pretty sure they "kicked me out" later that night, but they allowed me to call every 3 hours to check in, since I was getting up anyway! We always got a kick out of our 7+ lb. baby with tiny 2 lb. neighbors on either side of him in the NICU. He was a goliath in there! It just proved that even a full term, normal pregnancy can change in the blink of an eye.
By day 3 beginning, we had Surfactant and steroids on board. By day 3 end, we had both Ampicillin and Gentamicin too because of pneumonia - an issue that goes hand in hand with respiratory trauma, but NO breathing support! Day 4 his chest tube was clamped and we waited...
We weaned off the steroids on Day 6. After 4 more days of i.v. antibiotics, we came home. Finally, home.
We managed to stay home for a full 6 1/2 weeks before we landed back in the PICU for another pneumonia for 5 days. By this time, Wy was on inhaled steroid meds 3 times a day, 2 medications for reflux and thickened feeds.
4 months later we visited the PICU again with pneumonia - our shortest visit yet, 3 days. He learned to roll over during that hospital stay. Who would have ever thought we'd experience normal baby milestones while inpatient?! We added a new respiratory med to our daily routine and another med for the vomiting caused by his reflux, so by 6 months old he was on 5 medications a day and soy based formula since anything cow based caused him to break out in welts and swell up. He was plenty round anyway from steroids and thickened feeds, so we didn't need any bigger of a babe from swelling!
We had 1 more pneumonia that first year, but we were able to keep him home and not hospitalized with that one. We averaged pneumonia twice a year until he was about 10, but now thanks to attentive docs and a maintenance medication cocktail he keeps going. He still takes 3 daily meds to manage respiratory issues and probably will for his entire life due to the amount of scar tissue on his left lung. But he's here and he's amazing and he starts Jr. High this year (sniff).
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Wednesday, June 1, 2011
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