...heh, heh, heh, I am laughing at the fact that I referred to myself in the title as, "Our Heroine". I crack myself up. Just ask me anytime...I am more than happy to tell you how hilarious I am.
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Please, don't tell anyone this, but, uh...in truth I feel very far from being a, "heroine". I guess I feel a lot more, "helpless" than, "heroine", lately.
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Oh, great...again with the dramatic tone that I was worried about in the last post...
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Well, I guess this is going to come across as dramatic and I shouldn't keep fretting about that fact, so...as I was saying before...when we last left our heroine, I was explaining that I had just been admitted to the hospital on my 15 year wedding anniversary. I had told several friends that I was excited to have 4 days of rest and relaxation coming my way but, in truth, I was feeling very anxious about not being able to go home.
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Once I was settled in my room I called the Young Women's president, Tiffany, and told her, "Well, I guess if I didn't want to go to Girls' Camp I could have just said so." She laughed and told me, "We all know that you just don't want to be pregnant all summer in Georgia." You see, Tiffany is due to have her fourth child on August 11th, and my baby, John, was due on August 8th. I enjoyed being pregnant at the same time as Tiffany, for many reasons, but I have to say that, you should have seen us at presidency meetings...bless our hearts, we were like two idiots. We both had a pretty severe case of, "Pregnancy Brain" and would often begin sentences and forget what we were talking about by the time we tried to reach the end of our statements. I kept waiting for the other counselor, Mary, and the secretary, Aleasha, to have to hold up cue cards to help jog our memories. Equally funny during my pregnancy, was when I would call Tiffany on the telephone and forget what the purpose of my call was and vice versa. (I feel I should confess that I had a far more serious case of Pregnancy Brain than Tiffany did, though.) Joking with Tiffany on the phone helped me feel less anxious about my incarceration and I was able to relax somewhat that afternoon.
One of the not so pleasant things about the hospital stay was that, simply put, I have lousy veins. At first, I thought that perhaps, it was because I have such chubby arms but the nurses assured me that that had nothing to do with it. I had to be stuck at least twice if not three or four times to find a vein that wouldn't, "blow" as the nurses called it or, "roll away" and each stick left me with black and purple bruises. It became evident only hours after I was admitted that I would need to have the, "IV Team" come draw my blood for the battery of tests that would have to be done daily. I laughed when my nurse told me that she was calling the, "IV Team" to draw my blood. For some reason I envisioned a whole team of people parachuting into my hospital room wearing red, white and blue jumpsuits complete with helmets and goggles.
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That evening Mike brought the boys to visit me and I found it very interesting to see their different reactions to my not being able to come home from the hospital. Evan was all about the hardcore medical questions. He asked me that night, "So, what did the doctor say about your blood pressure?...How is your blood?...How is your urine?" I should mention that one of the times that I was sent home after visiting the Observation/Triage section of the hospital I had a huge orange jug in tow. My instructions were to collect my urine for a 24 hour period and bring it in to be tested for traces of protein to make sure that I wasn't developing preeclampsia/toxemia. My boys were
fascinated though they pretended to be repulsed that I had a huge jug of my urine chilling in the refrigerator right next to the milk jug. Evan learned at that time that I was collecting my urine that weekend and remembered that it was to look for protein...that is why he asked me, "how my urine" was. (It
was kind of a strange experience to bring a huge jug of my own pee back into the hospital. When I handed it to the nurse I kind of giggled as I said, "Here you are...chilled to perfection.")
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Adam approached me that first night in the hospital with tear filled eyes and asked me quietly, "Mooooom...are you gonna be okaaaaay?" I explained to him that he didn't need to worry and that the doctor was taking great care of me and his baby brother and that I didn't even feel sick.
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Brian was seemingly unfazed by my recent incarceration because he was far too fascinated by my exciting hospital bed. He immediately went to work pushing buttons to lower and then raise the bed repeatedly. He was crowding me for the first half of his visit and once when I returned from using the bathroom he was smack dab in the middle of the bed covered in my blanket. He found it fascinating that I was again collecting my urine in the, "hat" as the nurse called it, in the toilet, and pouring it into one of those big orange jugs.
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I was incarcerated on Thursday May, 21st and the following Monday was Memorial Day. Mike and I discussed that first night in the hospital that hopefully I would be home by Saturday or Sunday morning. I told him, "I'll just give the doctor my
sad eyes and promise to adhere to his rules of strict bed rest and hopefully he will let me go." Mike and I both agreed that it really was a blessing that if I
had to be hospitalized it had happened at a good time because the next day was the last day of school and it was a holiday weekend so Mike was off of work. I felt hopeful that I would be home before I knew it and everything would be okay.
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My doctor visited me early the next morning and told me that he would be going out of town for the holiday weekend but that he would keep in close contact with the doctor on call to make sure the toxemia had not taken over my system while he was gone. I remember, silly me, thinking that he was worrying needlessly and that I was going to give the doctor on call my,
sad eyes (I learned the technique of using, "sad eyes" to get what you want from the master...my Brian) and be home by Monday. Then my doctor told me that it was looking like I would not be going home before this baby was born.
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I. was. stymied. I had no idea that the situation was that serious until that point. I remember my mouth falling open when my doctor told me that. I just stared at him for a moment *blink* *blink* and quietly whispered, "It's
that serious?" He quietly answered back, "Yes. Definitely."
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I called Mike and told him what the doctor had said and that the doctor was not only worried about the toxemia, but that my blood pressure was still at a deadly elevation. We discussed that perhaps it would be best if the boys visited his family in Virginia for a little while and hopefully rest, and medication would help my blood pressure come back down to a safe level and prevent the toxemia from worsening.
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That night the boys visited me again in the hospital and we had a lovely time playing Memory together. The game got to be a little raucous and the nurse had to come in to ask us to be more quiet. I cringed as I envisioned her going back to the nurses station and saying something along the lines of, "Room 404 has elevated blood pressure and they are in there getting worked up over a game of Memory?!" We couldn't help it though, Brian SCHOOLED us in that Memory and cleared the board in a huge winning streak. It was very exciting.
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Okay...I guess you had to be there.
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Anyway...Mike left early Saturday morning to take the boys to Virginia. I have to say right now, THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU to Grandma and Grandad Marshman, Uncle David, Aunt Mary, and cousins Holly and Erik for all you did for my boys while they visited you in Virginia. I am truly, truly overwhelmed with gratitude. It helped me so much to have such peace of mind that our boys were with you.
I need to get off of the computer now, but I wanted to post some pictures and give you an update on John. I will return at some point to share another installment of the story. I know I am drawing this out to a frustrating point and I am so sorry about that. I just want to record all of this for posterity.
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When John was first born...do I say, "born" or..."delivered"? In truth, the poor little guy was surgically removed...Well, anyway...when John began his, "life on the outside"...he had to be on a ventilator. If I understand things correctly, the ventilator breathes
for the baby. After about a week his ability to breathe improved and he was switched to what they call a Si-Pap (sounds like, sigh) machine. The Si-Pap machine forces air through the baby's nose to assist in breathing. It only took a few days for John to be switched from the Si-Pap machine to a C-Pap machine. (Pronounced like the letter, "C") If I understand correctly a C-Pap machine forces less air through the baby's nose because the baby is able to breathe more evenly on their own.
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John has now graduated to a nasal cannula (the thin, clear, little tubing with two prongs that insert directly into the baby's nostrils). It gives him, "whiffs" of oxygen to help him breathe. The neonatologist has tried several times to lessen the amount of oxygen that John is receiving but he is just not ready yet to be without the level he is receiving.
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The other day I was talking to John's nurse and she said, "He is doing so well...he just forgets to breathe sometimes." We both started to laugh at her statement in spite of ourselves. I said, "Oh, that...that silly little breathing thing." I guess you had to be there but it really was a good moment.
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On June 12th when John was 2 weeks and one day old his little body began rejecting his feedings. At that point he was receiving special preemie formula through a feeding tube. After each feeding the nurses put a syringe into the feeding tube and pull back to draw out any undigested formula. At that point most of John's formula was undigested. The neonatologist called the undigested portion of formula, "residual"...I guess meaning, what resides or remains undigested. The neonatologist called this feeding problem a, "setback" and assured us that setbacks are normal or common for preemies. It was heartbreaking to see him struggle with this setback because he would cry out because his little tummy felt hungry. He was still being nourished through a picc line that went directly through a tube in his belly button with a special vitamin and mineral water (it looked like Gatorade) and was given lipids (fats) through his picc line but, after having his special high caloric preemie formula he was used to having his tummy feel full.
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John has successfully traversed the feeding setback and began eating again through a feeding tube that was inserted directly into his throat. It was then moved into his nostril and down the back of his throat.
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I am thrilled to report that he is now able to take his feedings through a bottle. Learning to, "nipple" feed is one of the things that preemies have to learn to do. They are born too early to have developed the instinct to root and suck like full term babies have.
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Little John currently has some fluid on his lungs which the doctor is trying to dry with a medication called, Lasix.
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Okay...I really have to go, now...I promise to return soon...
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I know you are thinking, "Yeah, right...she says that and never comes back...but I promise to return...
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... at some point, anyway...
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Please, enjoy some pictures...
He still has the scab from the IV that made a vein in his scalp rupture.
Some volunteers made little hats for the preemies. I told Mike this one looks so tiny it reminds me of the covers some people put on their golf clubs. Here is his hat next to the mouse on the computer in the NICU.
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and then I was going to point out that they don't have couches like this in the NICU, or anywhere else in the hospital, for that matter...
This picture was taken by Adam when John was still in the NICU. Adam asked if he could take John's picture and when he did I noticed he had his hand in front of the camera lens. When I asked him what he was doing he said, "I'm taking a picture of my 'thumbs up' for baby John!"
This picture was taken by Adam when John was still in the NICU. Adam asked if he could take John's picture and when he did I noticed he had his hand in front of the camera lens. When I asked him what he was doing he said, "I'm taking a picture of my 'thumbs up' for baby John!"
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