Happy Halloween from my little pumpkin!
Monday, October 31, 2011
Friday, October 28, 2011
Walk the Line
I've jumped on my blog probably a dozen times in the past week to write a post, but things always seem to get in the way. Either Kaia needs feeding or changing or just wants to be held, or I need to pump, or wash bottles, or do chores, or eat or sleep.
Those are all excuses however. What is really keeping me from writing is the sense of not being sure where I fit in. I no longer need this as an outlet to write about the disasters in my life, because really, comparatively, I don't have any. While Kaia's upcoming surgery and casting will (I'm sure) occupy a few (or more) blog posts, there isn't the sense of 'dire-ness' that has plagued me for the last two years. My complaints would be of a much more mundane nature, which I'm afraid come off sounding whiny and ungrateful.
I think this is the hardest thing about being both a dead baby/living baby mommy that I have experienced. I don't feel guilty about Kaia's pPROM issues and I don't feel badly about her prematurity. Those were things I could not control and we have and continue to deal with them as best we can. What I do feel badly about is sometimes, when Kaia wakes me up for the 3rd time in one night, or when she won't fall asleep until well after midnight, or I'm pumping for the 7th time in a day, or I'm washing my 2nd or 3rd round of bottles...I sometimes forget how lucky I am. Sometimes I am decidedly crabby. And that makes me feel guilty.
I suppose I naively thought, since I usually had not one but two sick needy newborns under my care in the NICU, I would have this baby stuff down cold. Change diapers? No problem. Bottle feed? Cake. Wipe up spit up? Sure, bring it on. But it's different when you don't get to clock out at the end of a twelve hour shift, and there are no days off. I also thought that my dead child, and my disastrous pregnancies would somehow make me more tolerant and appreciative. I would be like Glinda the good witch, calm and serene in my fluffy white dress and crown, able to float above it all in my happy soap bubble. I would laugh (or titter behind my white gloved hand) in the face of little sleep, a messy house, and a fussy baby. It's harder than it looks though. Sometimes I feel more like the Wicked Witch of the West. Green, and warty and crabby as hell. In the long term I guess I probably am more appreciative and will look back in fondness. But, sometimes in the moment, I am a little ashamed to admit that I lose sight of how good I've got it.
I suppose I naively thought, since I usually had not one but two sick needy newborns under my care in the NICU, I would have this baby stuff down cold. Change diapers? No problem. Bottle feed? Cake. Wipe up spit up? Sure, bring it on. But it's different when you don't get to clock out at the end of a twelve hour shift, and there are no days off. I also thought that my dead child, and my disastrous pregnancies would somehow make me more tolerant and appreciative. I would be like Glinda the good witch, calm and serene in my fluffy white dress and crown, able to float above it all in my happy soap bubble. I would laugh (or titter behind my white gloved hand) in the face of little sleep, a messy house, and a fussy baby. It's harder than it looks though. Sometimes I feel more like the Wicked Witch of the West. Green, and warty and crabby as hell. In the long term I guess I probably am more appreciative and will look back in fondness. But, sometimes in the moment, I am a little ashamed to admit that I lose sight of how good I've got it.
I suppose I have been afraid to admit on here how challenging I find it sometimes, because over the last year and a half I have read so many BLMs post about how they hate hearing mothers complain. And I want to be sensitive to that. I don't want to sound ungrateful or unappreciative. I recognize that my life IS better than after Aidan died, for sure, definitely, but I also can't pretend I don't also have a better understanding of what those other mothers were complaining about.
On the other hand, I also feel like anything I post about Kaia and how damn cute and adorable and wonderful she is, is a slap in the face to those who are still waiting and hoping that their 'rainbow' will make his or her grand entrance one day. That waiting game is HARD. I know, I've been there and it sucked to see everyone else hop on that 'isn't-my-kid-just-the-cutest-thing-in the-whole-word" train while I felt like I fell off (clutching my sad little dead baby urn) somewhere along the way.
So where do I fit in? Kaia is adorable and wonderful and has made our lives so much happier and fulfilling and easier...while also making us incredibly tired, sometimes frustrated, occasionally crabbier and has complicated and made our lives harder as well.
I feel as though I am walking along the top of a hill. On one side are the dead baby parents who are feeling intense grief, or who haven't had the chance to parent a live child which they desperately want. They may feel lost, angry, sad, left out. I can relate to them because I can remember so clearly being there too. On the other side of the hill are the parents who have never had a dead child and who can't really appreciate the feelings of grief and loss that come along with that experience. These parents may have their own challenges and struggles with their living children, while also experiencing the joy and love that children bring. Both sides have a hard time seeing each other. They haven't walked in each others shoes. I'm walking along the top of the hill. While I want to comfort and be sensitive to my fellow BLMs, I can't help but have all the same happiness and concerns that those of a live baby do too.
This was brought into clear focus the other day when I sent out an e-mail to my extended family members regarding our kid's Christmas gift exchange. I have a big family on my mother's side. For DECADES we have gotten together with my cousins and second cousins and even a few third cousins at Christmas time, and the parents of children under the age of 21 have done a gift exchange. Every child's name goes into a hat, and you draw out as many names as children you have. Every kid gets a present. No one gets left out. I looked forward to this tradition as a child because (duh) I got a present to open! And who doesn't love that?! This year I might be looking forward to BUYING a present just as much, because it means I HAVE A KID! Anyway, we drew names last weekend at a family gathering and I was put in charge of e-mailing those who weren't at the gathering the name(s) we had drawn for them.
Yesterday I got an e-mail back from one of my (funnier) cousins stating that he was going to give away his KIDS as the present. ie: "Suzy will get Joan, John will get Alan, Tim will get Tom and Sarah will get baby Mike, but we'll put him in a dress to make him more 'girly' for her. Haha! Can't wait until Christmas!" (names have been changed, obviously). I first reacted as a dead baby mom": How can you joke about giving your kids away? Don't you know there are people out there who would go to the ends of the EARTH to have just one living child??!! Jeez, try to be more sensitive!!!
Then I found myself joining in on the joke. I might have even smiled. Because the man has 4 kids...and good God that would be tiring. You would want to give them away sometimes. Plus Sarah clutching little Mikey in a dress would be cute as hell.
I guess to sum up, I feel like I'm walking a fine line on my blog these days.
Sorry if I step on any toes.
Are my posts harder for you to read these days? Do you ever feel like you censor yourself on your own blog, fearing to offend? Does anyone else feel like they are walking the line between the living and the dead? How does it make you feel?
I feel as though I am walking along the top of a hill. On one side are the dead baby parents who are feeling intense grief, or who haven't had the chance to parent a live child which they desperately want. They may feel lost, angry, sad, left out. I can relate to them because I can remember so clearly being there too. On the other side of the hill are the parents who have never had a dead child and who can't really appreciate the feelings of grief and loss that come along with that experience. These parents may have their own challenges and struggles with their living children, while also experiencing the joy and love that children bring. Both sides have a hard time seeing each other. They haven't walked in each others shoes. I'm walking along the top of the hill. While I want to comfort and be sensitive to my fellow BLMs, I can't help but have all the same happiness and concerns that those of a live baby do too.
This was brought into clear focus the other day when I sent out an e-mail to my extended family members regarding our kid's Christmas gift exchange. I have a big family on my mother's side. For DECADES we have gotten together with my cousins and second cousins and even a few third cousins at Christmas time, and the parents of children under the age of 21 have done a gift exchange. Every child's name goes into a hat, and you draw out as many names as children you have. Every kid gets a present. No one gets left out. I looked forward to this tradition as a child because (duh) I got a present to open! And who doesn't love that?! This year I might be looking forward to BUYING a present just as much, because it means I HAVE A KID! Anyway, we drew names last weekend at a family gathering and I was put in charge of e-mailing those who weren't at the gathering the name(s) we had drawn for them.
Yesterday I got an e-mail back from one of my (funnier) cousins stating that he was going to give away his KIDS as the present. ie: "Suzy will get Joan, John will get Alan, Tim will get Tom and Sarah will get baby Mike, but we'll put him in a dress to make him more 'girly' for her. Haha! Can't wait until Christmas!" (names have been changed, obviously). I first reacted as a dead baby mom": How can you joke about giving your kids away? Don't you know there are people out there who would go to the ends of the EARTH to have just one living child??!! Jeez, try to be more sensitive!!!
Then I found myself joining in on the joke. I might have even smiled. Because the man has 4 kids...and good God that would be tiring. You would want to give them away sometimes. Plus Sarah clutching little Mikey in a dress would be cute as hell.
I guess to sum up, I feel like I'm walking a fine line on my blog these days.
Sorry if I step on any toes.
Are my posts harder for you to read these days? Do you ever feel like you censor yourself on your own blog, fearing to offend? Does anyone else feel like they are walking the line between the living and the dead? How does it make you feel?
Sunday, October 23, 2011
15 weeks and 2 days
15 weeks and 2 days old.
Today Kaia is the same number of days old as the number of days I spent on bed rest during my pregnancy with her.
It is mind boggling.
During my time on bed rest I felt like I did nothing. I watched a lot of TV. Blogged a lot. Read a bit. Slept. Ate. All broken up by the occasional stressful doctor's appointment. It felt like it went on forever at the time, and yet now it seems like I couldn't have been doing that for the same amount of time that we've been doing this:
Visiting Kaia at 2 different hospitals, watching her come off multiple sources of breathing assistance, learning to eat by mouth, watching her gain close to triple her birth weight, have her in 4 different harnesses (the first 3 were the same brand and all crap, the last was good, but not good enough in order to fix her hip). I've recovered from a C-section and am almost back to my pre-pregnancy weight. We've had Kaia home for 8 weeks, Brian was off work for 4 of those. We've been to 13 (or was it 14, or 15?) different doctor/lactation consultant/ultrasound appointments with her since bringing her home. I've been pumping 6-8x per day every day since she arrived. We have done a few family visits and Kaia has been around for the August long weekend, Labour day, Thanksgiving, Brian's birthday and my birthday. It seems like she's been a part of our family a heck of a lot longer than I was on bed rest.
I don't really have any more to say about it...but it just feels like an important milestone that must be mentioned.
Thank you for hanging on my baby girl. You were entirely worth it.
Today Kaia is the same number of days old as the number of days I spent on bed rest during my pregnancy with her.
It is mind boggling.
During my time on bed rest I felt like I did nothing. I watched a lot of TV. Blogged a lot. Read a bit. Slept. Ate. All broken up by the occasional stressful doctor's appointment. It felt like it went on forever at the time, and yet now it seems like I couldn't have been doing that for the same amount of time that we've been doing this:
Visiting Kaia at 2 different hospitals, watching her come off multiple sources of breathing assistance, learning to eat by mouth, watching her gain close to triple her birth weight, have her in 4 different harnesses (the first 3 were the same brand and all crap, the last was good, but not good enough in order to fix her hip). I've recovered from a C-section and am almost back to my pre-pregnancy weight. We've had Kaia home for 8 weeks, Brian was off work for 4 of those. We've been to 13 (or was it 14, or 15?) different doctor/lactation consultant/ultrasound appointments with her since bringing her home. I've been pumping 6-8x per day every day since she arrived. We have done a few family visits and Kaia has been around for the August long weekend, Labour day, Thanksgiving, Brian's birthday and my birthday. It seems like she's been a part of our family a heck of a lot longer than I was on bed rest.
I don't really have any more to say about it...but it just feels like an important milestone that must be mentioned.
Thank you for hanging on my baby girl. You were entirely worth it.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Un-harnessed
Home 7 1/2 weeks.
A few weeks ago I found an old article on people.com about Brooke Shields. In it she was discussing her daughter Rowan's hip dysplasia. The article says this:
"Every time they tightened the harness, Rowan would scream. Chris always tightened the harness-Brooke didn’t want to, nor did she want to hold Rowan. She had to even be baptized in the harness. Brooke wrote about how beautiful Rowan looked in her dress, but then the harness sticking out underneath was just heartbreaking."
And this:
Brooke said, "when you’re a new parent and you have a child that has any kind of special need you rely so much not only on the ability of your surgeon or your doctor but the compassion." Brooke said that she had Dr. Skaggs cell phone number and that she would call him when she was "terrified" when she had trouble changing a screaming, crying Rowan’s diaper while she was wearing the harness.
First of all, you know you're a celebrity when you have your pediatric orthopedic surgeon's phone number on speed dial so he can talk you through diaper changes. Secondly, Brooke Shields needs to suck it up because she was one of the 90% of parents whose baby's with hip dysplasia are fixed by being in a harness.
We, unfortunately, are not.
We found out yesterday that Kaia is going to need a spica cast. She has been in the correct Pavlik harness for two weeks and her surgeon wasn't seeing the improvements that he wanted to. Namely he could still pop her hip in and out of joint. By this point, we were hoping that the hip would be in socket and staying in...but alas, things are always more complicated for us.
As he said "90% of the time, this works for babies that are as young as your daughter, but 10% of the time we have to move on to casting". HA! Sorry doc, I should have mentioned it, but it seems like for our family if things have a possibility of being more complicated than originally expected, then they will be.
As of now, Kaia is out of the harness until her surgery which will be sometime in the late winter when she is between 4 1/2 to 7 months corrected age. Likely February. She will be put under anesthesia, a small incision will be made in the groin area to release the tendon, and then her hip will be put back into the socket. A body cast will be applied (it will go from her nipples to her toes keeping her in 'frog' position) and then she will spend the night in hospital. She will wear it for 12 weeks and then we hope like hell it stays fixed and doesn't need any more 'work' (ie: further surgery and re-casting). I hope we can get it all behind us before the weather gets hot because it seems cruel to have a kid in a cast when they could be swimming instead.
I'm sad, but resigned.
I think I would be a lot more upset if Kaia had been my first baby, born without complications or anxiety. Because of all the things I knew could befall her after my water broke (death in utero, death out of utero, no lung development, poor lung development, heart defects, extreme prematurity, brain bleeds, NEC, ROP), hip dysplasia is WAY down on the list of 'awful'.
But it still sucks.
I was really hoping we were already 2 weeks into a 12 week stint in a Pavlik harness. We were getting good and fast at threading the tabs under the straps during diaper changes. I had finally found 0-3 month outfits that were both practical and cute that fit her harness (the footless one pieces that have the snaps up the inside of the leg seams). Kaia was getting more tolerant of sponge baths. Now it doesn't matter, at least for the time being.
Last night we 'celebrated' by plunking her in her tub for the first time in two weeks. She actually wasn't even that dirty. Just some dead skin build up on her feet. I plan to take full advantage of this time when I can dress her in whatever I want. I'm going to go buy 0-3 month pants this weekend. Maybe even some tights, with cute shoes to go along with it!
While I will enjoy having my cuddly baby back for now, I'm sad that she will be older and more 'aware' when she's put into the spica. Right now, she's been in a harness since she was 36 weeks gestational age, (albeit a crappy harness for the first 7 weeks), so she doesn't really know the difference. I feel like when it comes time to putting her in the spica, she'll be at the age when she will be used to sitting up, rolling over, grabbing her toes...and then all of a sudden she won't be able to do those things anymore. I know she'll get use to it, but it's just another thing we have to contend with.
But in some ways I'm grateful I know it could be so much worse. So like Brooke Shields should have done (seriously she didn't want to even HOLD her baby??), I'm going to suck it up and move on. And for the next 4 months we are going to rock out in some super cute outfits!
*P.S. Okay Brooke Shields you get an out for also having postpartum depression. I suppose that plus having a kid in a harness would be a bit much to deal with. But I stand by my comment about having your ortho on speed dial. Because if she hadn't shown off her boobs in Blue Lagoon I'm pretty sure he would have blocked her number.
A few weeks ago I found an old article on people.com about Brooke Shields. In it she was discussing her daughter Rowan's hip dysplasia. The article says this:
"Every time they tightened the harness, Rowan would scream. Chris always tightened the harness-Brooke didn’t want to, nor did she want to hold Rowan. She had to even be baptized in the harness. Brooke wrote about how beautiful Rowan looked in her dress, but then the harness sticking out underneath was just heartbreaking."
And this:
Brooke said, "when you’re a new parent and you have a child that has any kind of special need you rely so much not only on the ability of your surgeon or your doctor but the compassion." Brooke said that she had Dr. Skaggs cell phone number and that she would call him when she was "terrified" when she had trouble changing a screaming, crying Rowan’s diaper while she was wearing the harness.
First of all, you know you're a celebrity when you have your pediatric orthopedic surgeon's phone number on speed dial so he can talk you through diaper changes. Secondly, Brooke Shields needs to suck it up because she was one of the 90% of parents whose baby's with hip dysplasia are fixed by being in a harness.
We, unfortunately, are not.
We found out yesterday that Kaia is going to need a spica cast. She has been in the correct Pavlik harness for two weeks and her surgeon wasn't seeing the improvements that he wanted to. Namely he could still pop her hip in and out of joint. By this point, we were hoping that the hip would be in socket and staying in...but alas, things are always more complicated for us.
As he said "90% of the time, this works for babies that are as young as your daughter, but 10% of the time we have to move on to casting". HA! Sorry doc, I should have mentioned it, but it seems like for our family if things have a possibility of being more complicated than originally expected, then they will be.
As of now, Kaia is out of the harness until her surgery which will be sometime in the late winter when she is between 4 1/2 to 7 months corrected age. Likely February. She will be put under anesthesia, a small incision will be made in the groin area to release the tendon, and then her hip will be put back into the socket. A body cast will be applied (it will go from her nipples to her toes keeping her in 'frog' position) and then she will spend the night in hospital. She will wear it for 12 weeks and then we hope like hell it stays fixed and doesn't need any more 'work' (ie: further surgery and re-casting). I hope we can get it all behind us before the weather gets hot because it seems cruel to have a kid in a cast when they could be swimming instead.
I'm sad, but resigned.
I think I would be a lot more upset if Kaia had been my first baby, born without complications or anxiety. Because of all the things I knew could befall her after my water broke (death in utero, death out of utero, no lung development, poor lung development, heart defects, extreme prematurity, brain bleeds, NEC, ROP), hip dysplasia is WAY down on the list of 'awful'.
But it still sucks.
I was really hoping we were already 2 weeks into a 12 week stint in a Pavlik harness. We were getting good and fast at threading the tabs under the straps during diaper changes. I had finally found 0-3 month outfits that were both practical and cute that fit her harness (the footless one pieces that have the snaps up the inside of the leg seams). Kaia was getting more tolerant of sponge baths. Now it doesn't matter, at least for the time being.
Last night we 'celebrated' by plunking her in her tub for the first time in two weeks. She actually wasn't even that dirty. Just some dead skin build up on her feet. I plan to take full advantage of this time when I can dress her in whatever I want. I'm going to go buy 0-3 month pants this weekend. Maybe even some tights, with cute shoes to go along with it!
While I will enjoy having my cuddly baby back for now, I'm sad that she will be older and more 'aware' when she's put into the spica. Right now, she's been in a harness since she was 36 weeks gestational age, (albeit a crappy harness for the first 7 weeks), so she doesn't really know the difference. I feel like when it comes time to putting her in the spica, she'll be at the age when she will be used to sitting up, rolling over, grabbing her toes...and then all of a sudden she won't be able to do those things anymore. I know she'll get use to it, but it's just another thing we have to contend with.
But in some ways I'm grateful I know it could be so much worse. So like Brooke Shields should have done (seriously she didn't want to even HOLD her baby??), I'm going to suck it up and move on. And for the next 4 months we are going to rock out in some super cute outfits!
*P.S. Okay Brooke Shields you get an out for also having postpartum depression. I suppose that plus having a kid in a harness would be a bit much to deal with. But I stand by my comment about having your ortho on speed dial. Because if she hadn't shown off her boobs in Blue Lagoon I'm pretty sure he would have blocked her number.
Saturday, October 15, 2011
Remember
Home almost 7 weeks
Remember a few weeks ago I asked for help in how to word Kaia's baby announcements?
Well after fretting about it for a little while I finally figured that a picture is worth a thousand words. So on the back of the card, in between a picture of Kaia and Brian and Kaia and me, I put this:
We're carrying you with us Aidan, today and every day. We love you, baby boy.
Remember a few weeks ago I asked for help in how to word Kaia's baby announcements?
Well after fretting about it for a little while I finally figured that a picture is worth a thousand words. So on the back of the card, in between a picture of Kaia and Brian and Kaia and me, I put this:
We're carrying you with us Aidan, today and every day. We love you, baby boy.
Tuesday, October 11, 2011
29
It's my birthday. I'm 29.
It's amazing the difference a year makes.
Last year I was sad and missing Aidan and working towards a 'successful' pregnancy.
This year, while I still miss Aidan, my days are full caring for his baby sister. My year, while not totally going according to plan (HA! understatement!!), did eventually work out the way I wanted it. For that I will be eternally grateful.
Anyway, the following are some thoughts that have been rolling around in my brain for awhile.
Thought # 1:
I often wondered after Aidan died if I was correct in my assumption that life would be all around 'better' with a living baby. Obviously I wouldn't be sad if my kid wasn't dead, but I often wondered if I was 'romanticizing' being a parent. Every time I saw anything that reminded me of the parenthood I lost (strollers, baby shower invites, newborn outfits, parenting blogs etc.) it felt like a kick in the gut. Like a world I was ejected from that looked like SO much more fun than the life I was living. I was sad and angry that not only did I miss Aidan so badly, but that my life was so off track from where I wanted to be. That if only I had a baby life would be 'perfect'. Yet even though my cloud of grief I realized that the parents I knew who had young children weren't walking around on cloud nine, singing the praises of being a parent all the time. While I'm sure if asked they would all agree they loved their children and wouldn't trade them for the world, their lives were obviously not perfect. So which was it? Would a living child really make me 'happier'? Or was it all an illusion, just my sad, disappointed brain imaging a 'better' life that didn't really exist?
I feel I can now answer my own question. Yes, life really is happier...but it's true it's not perfect and I can't say I keep up the sentiment of feeling 'grateful' and 'lucky' all the time. But I'm learning to let myself just be glad for normal. Just like life was eventually 'okay' again after Aidan died because no one can stay in that initial fog of grief forever, no one can stay on cloud nine forever either. And honestly, I'm glad. It's exhausting to feel such extremes all the time. Major emotional events are going to happen in life, but generally I feel healthier and happier to just be in the middle most of the time.
I've also learned that while getting the one thing you've always wanted (a living baby) is an extremely wonderful thing, it does not fix other areas of your life. If you argue with your partner, you will still argue, and a new baby might even make that worse (although a dead one probably doesn't help matters either). A new baby while fun and exciting and beautiful, is also a lot of (often tedious) work (how many bottles did I wash today??!) It's occasionally stressful, and a big drain on resources, physically, emotionally, and financially. While a new baby brings joy and happiness into a family, it also means sacrificing other things that make you happy including sleep, a fulfilling career, hobbies, and events with family or friends. It can also be lonely hanging out all day with a new baby as they aren't known for being the best conversationalists. But while there are some draw backs, I would say I now feel more fulfilled, more centered, more at peace having a living child. And I try to remind myself, even when things are tough, how amazingly lucky I am to be able to say that.
Thought # 2
A few weeks ago, a woman I know posted on Facebook about the birth of her second child. She had not known the sex of the baby prior to delivery. Her first was a boy. Her second, a girl. People were posting congratulations and a comment was made 'now you have the million dollar family!' And my thought was "Holy shit, I had the million dollar family (one boy, one girl)...but half of mine died". (Does that mean I have the 500K family?) My mom often commented on her 'million dollar family' when my brother and I were growing up. She felt blessed to have one girl and one boy when she was told, for medical reasons, not to have any more kids. Because at that point, she was fine with no more as she had what she wanted. I had a boy, and I have a girl...but I won't ever have the satisfaction of watching my boy and girl play together or fight or lean on each other in tough times.
I e-mailed Dr. K. a few days ago and the placental pathology confirms that I had another Breus mole placenta (I could have told you that just based on the ultrasound pictures alone as Aidan and Kaia's placentas were very alike in their weirdness, so this wasn't exactly 'news'). This brings up the question of course though, why did it occur (TWICE??!!) Once was sad and unfortunate. Twice is kind of freakish. It makes me very wary of ever considering another pregnancy, because how can I be sure it won't happen for a 3rd time? It wasn't suppose to happen twice and it did. Plus, how could I place another child in jeopardy? We will be dealing with the ramifications of Kaia's confinement (literally) for the next year, and we are lucky her issues are 'fixable'. I also NEVER want to have to deal with another very early pPROM again. Ever. It was scary and terrible and soul crushing. I don't want to have to watch my husband, daughter or family have to live through it again either.
And yet...I would love another baby someday. Even more than that...I would like Kaia to have a (living) sibling. One that she can play with and tell stories to, have fun with, and confide in. While my brother and I don't spend as much time together as we used to, I do love having a sibling. I want that for Kaia. I want her to have a (living) brother or sister. One who isn't just a baby in a photo. One who doesn't sit on the shelf in the living room. Brian and I miss never getting to know Aidan...and now I miss him on Kaia's behalf too.
Thought # 3
I have been asked SO many times since Kaia was born "is this your first?" (honestly, this question gets asked more than her NAME, which I think is weird). Sometimes I tell the truth, and other times I lie. You'd have thought I would have gotten used to this in the last year having to answer the other dreaded question "Do you have any kids?", but still it's hard EVERY SINGLE TIME.
What also gets asked a lot is "how old is she?" This is another hard question for a preemie mom, because for anyone that knows anything about babies, she obviously doesn't look 3 months old. She's not even 9 lbs. She doesn't hold her head up yet. She is JUST starting to smile. Which means she's right on track...for her corrected age. Now, I don't mind telling people she was a preemie, but just like saying "oh my first child died", sometimes it feels like revealing too much to just any old Tom, Dick or Harry. So I often end up telling strangers "she's 6 weeks old" (the amount of time she's been home from the hospital). It gets confusing. It's not awkward like the number of children question, or the 'first child' question...but it's another baby question which I find myself occasionally lying about. Who knew having kids would make me such a liar?
So yeah. Kind of random I know.
That's where I am at as I enter year 29. I'm so glad I'm in a much better place than I was at 28. I hope it gives hope to those out there reading who aren't sure where they are going to be on their next birthday. Because you just never know what a difference a year can make.
Thoughts? Comments?
It's amazing the difference a year makes.
Last year I was sad and missing Aidan and working towards a 'successful' pregnancy.
This year, while I still miss Aidan, my days are full caring for his baby sister. My year, while not totally going according to plan (HA! understatement!!), did eventually work out the way I wanted it. For that I will be eternally grateful.
Anyway, the following are some thoughts that have been rolling around in my brain for awhile.
Thought # 1:
I often wondered after Aidan died if I was correct in my assumption that life would be all around 'better' with a living baby. Obviously I wouldn't be sad if my kid wasn't dead, but I often wondered if I was 'romanticizing' being a parent. Every time I saw anything that reminded me of the parenthood I lost (strollers, baby shower invites, newborn outfits, parenting blogs etc.) it felt like a kick in the gut. Like a world I was ejected from that looked like SO much more fun than the life I was living. I was sad and angry that not only did I miss Aidan so badly, but that my life was so off track from where I wanted to be. That if only I had a baby life would be 'perfect'. Yet even though my cloud of grief I realized that the parents I knew who had young children weren't walking around on cloud nine, singing the praises of being a parent all the time. While I'm sure if asked they would all agree they loved their children and wouldn't trade them for the world, their lives were obviously not perfect. So which was it? Would a living child really make me 'happier'? Or was it all an illusion, just my sad, disappointed brain imaging a 'better' life that didn't really exist?
I feel I can now answer my own question. Yes, life really is happier...but it's true it's not perfect and I can't say I keep up the sentiment of feeling 'grateful' and 'lucky' all the time. But I'm learning to let myself just be glad for normal. Just like life was eventually 'okay' again after Aidan died because no one can stay in that initial fog of grief forever, no one can stay on cloud nine forever either. And honestly, I'm glad. It's exhausting to feel such extremes all the time. Major emotional events are going to happen in life, but generally I feel healthier and happier to just be in the middle most of the time.
I've also learned that while getting the one thing you've always wanted (a living baby) is an extremely wonderful thing, it does not fix other areas of your life. If you argue with your partner, you will still argue, and a new baby might even make that worse (although a dead one probably doesn't help matters either). A new baby while fun and exciting and beautiful, is also a lot of (often tedious) work (how many bottles did I wash today??!) It's occasionally stressful, and a big drain on resources, physically, emotionally, and financially. While a new baby brings joy and happiness into a family, it also means sacrificing other things that make you happy including sleep, a fulfilling career, hobbies, and events with family or friends. It can also be lonely hanging out all day with a new baby as they aren't known for being the best conversationalists. But while there are some draw backs, I would say I now feel more fulfilled, more centered, more at peace having a living child. And I try to remind myself, even when things are tough, how amazingly lucky I am to be able to say that.
Thought # 2
A few weeks ago, a woman I know posted on Facebook about the birth of her second child. She had not known the sex of the baby prior to delivery. Her first was a boy. Her second, a girl. People were posting congratulations and a comment was made 'now you have the million dollar family!' And my thought was "Holy shit, I had the million dollar family (one boy, one girl)...but half of mine died". (Does that mean I have the 500K family?) My mom often commented on her 'million dollar family' when my brother and I were growing up. She felt blessed to have one girl and one boy when she was told, for medical reasons, not to have any more kids. Because at that point, she was fine with no more as she had what she wanted. I had a boy, and I have a girl...but I won't ever have the satisfaction of watching my boy and girl play together or fight or lean on each other in tough times.
I e-mailed Dr. K. a few days ago and the placental pathology confirms that I had another Breus mole placenta (I could have told you that just based on the ultrasound pictures alone as Aidan and Kaia's placentas were very alike in their weirdness, so this wasn't exactly 'news'). This brings up the question of course though, why did it occur (TWICE??!!) Once was sad and unfortunate. Twice is kind of freakish. It makes me very wary of ever considering another pregnancy, because how can I be sure it won't happen for a 3rd time? It wasn't suppose to happen twice and it did. Plus, how could I place another child in jeopardy? We will be dealing with the ramifications of Kaia's confinement (literally) for the next year, and we are lucky her issues are 'fixable'. I also NEVER want to have to deal with another very early pPROM again. Ever. It was scary and terrible and soul crushing. I don't want to have to watch my husband, daughter or family have to live through it again either.
And yet...I would love another baby someday. Even more than that...I would like Kaia to have a (living) sibling. One that she can play with and tell stories to, have fun with, and confide in. While my brother and I don't spend as much time together as we used to, I do love having a sibling. I want that for Kaia. I want her to have a (living) brother or sister. One who isn't just a baby in a photo. One who doesn't sit on the shelf in the living room. Brian and I miss never getting to know Aidan...and now I miss him on Kaia's behalf too.
Thought # 3
I have been asked SO many times since Kaia was born "is this your first?" (honestly, this question gets asked more than her NAME, which I think is weird). Sometimes I tell the truth, and other times I lie. You'd have thought I would have gotten used to this in the last year having to answer the other dreaded question "Do you have any kids?", but still it's hard EVERY SINGLE TIME.
What also gets asked a lot is "how old is she?" This is another hard question for a preemie mom, because for anyone that knows anything about babies, she obviously doesn't look 3 months old. She's not even 9 lbs. She doesn't hold her head up yet. She is JUST starting to smile. Which means she's right on track...for her corrected age. Now, I don't mind telling people she was a preemie, but just like saying "oh my first child died", sometimes it feels like revealing too much to just any old Tom, Dick or Harry. So I often end up telling strangers "she's 6 weeks old" (the amount of time she's been home from the hospital). It gets confusing. It's not awkward like the number of children question, or the 'first child' question...but it's another baby question which I find myself occasionally lying about. Who knew having kids would make me such a liar?
So yeah. Kind of random I know.
That's where I am at as I enter year 29. I'm so glad I'm in a much better place than I was at 28. I hope it gives hope to those out there reading who aren't sure where they are going to be on their next birthday. Because you just never know what a difference a year can make.
Thoughts? Comments?
Sunday, October 9, 2011
Kaia: 6 weeks home
Home 6 weeks
I have been wanting to write a post about Kaia for awhile. Just about her. Nothing else. No complaining, no whining, no fear or concern over health issues.
Just Kaia.
My sweet baby girl.
She is now almost 3 months old, but is technically about 1 month corrected. She weighs just over 8 lbs. She has blue eyes just like mine and hair that almost looks auburn in the sunlight.
She is a fairly good sleeper generally, but not for longer than 4 hours at a time and usually more like 3.
She is starting to have a few smiles which I swear might be real and not just gas.
She loves to be held, likes walks in her stroller, and prefers her milk just shy of hot thankyouverymuch.
She loves to be in the water, and I'm sad that she won't get to experience that for awhile now that she's in the harness full time.
She cries during sponge baths, and I don't blame her because everyone knows they are no fun at all. She is starting to have a little bit of neck strength when held upright, which I like to attribute to carrying her in her Moby wrap.
She has never had anything but breast milk...but seems to prefer to feed by bottle.
She will breastfeed, but does it more for comfort and something to suck on than nutrition and I'm trying to satisfy myself with that and not take it personally. Her dad is best at getting her to burp. She lets out some loud ones too. Her grandma (my mom) has babysat for her once while I was at the doctors and is convinced she loves music, which she listens to in her swing.
She has the best wide eyed stare in the world, as though she is really intent on what you are saying.
You can tell when she's pooping as she goes all red. She makes the craziest sounds, even when sleeping which I've heard is common in preemies. She often squeals like a dolphin, grunts like a goat, whinnies like a horse and/or squeaks like a mouse, sometimes all 4 in the space of a few minutes. Her room is my masterpiece and is the most 'perfect' looking room in the house. I'm so pleased with it because it's girly without having a lick of pink.
She loves to sleep in her bassinet (which is part of her stroller, thank you to everyone who helped me get it for her!), and I feel safe when she's there as it's hooked up to the Angelcare monitor. Her nicknames are Pumpkin, Monkey, Chicken Little, Kaia-Papaya, and occasionally mommy's little Acorn. I say Acorn only occasionally because it's funny how I don't really even associate her with my awful pregnancy. Acorn was her...and yet the two events just seem so far removed from each other. Pregnancy = awful. Kaia = great! 
During the day if she's been napping for awhile, I almost miss holding her and want her to wake up just so I can look in her big blue eyes.
I can't wait to see what the next 6 weeks of having her home will bring. Hopefully real smiles (that other people think are real too!) and maybe a giggle. Maybe some more sleep at night? (Pretty please!) Halloween costumes (I finally have a kid to dress up!!!)
Thank goodness you're you Kaia. You've been home 6 weeks and I can't imagine life without you.
Love you, my baby girl.
I have been wanting to write a post about Kaia for awhile. Just about her. Nothing else. No complaining, no whining, no fear or concern over health issues.
Just Kaia.
My sweet baby girl.
She is now almost 3 months old, but is technically about 1 month corrected. She weighs just over 8 lbs. She has blue eyes just like mine and hair that almost looks auburn in the sunlight.
She is a fairly good sleeper generally, but not for longer than 4 hours at a time and usually more like 3.
She is starting to have a few smiles which I swear might be real and not just gas.
She loves to be held, likes walks in her stroller, and prefers her milk just shy of hot thankyouverymuch.
She loves to be in the water, and I'm sad that she won't get to experience that for awhile now that she's in the harness full time.
She cries during sponge baths, and I don't blame her because everyone knows they are no fun at all. She is starting to have a little bit of neck strength when held upright, which I like to attribute to carrying her in her Moby wrap.
She has never had anything but breast milk...but seems to prefer to feed by bottle. 
She will breastfeed, but does it more for comfort and something to suck on than nutrition and I'm trying to satisfy myself with that and not take it personally. Her dad is best at getting her to burp. She lets out some loud ones too. Her grandma (my mom) has babysat for her once while I was at the doctors and is convinced she loves music, which she listens to in her swing.
She has the best wide eyed stare in the world, as though she is really intent on what you are saying.
You can tell when she's pooping as she goes all red. She makes the craziest sounds, even when sleeping which I've heard is common in preemies. She often squeals like a dolphin, grunts like a goat, whinnies like a horse and/or squeaks like a mouse, sometimes all 4 in the space of a few minutes. Her room is my masterpiece and is the most 'perfect' looking room in the house. I'm so pleased with it because it's girly without having a lick of pink.
She loves to sleep in her bassinet (which is part of her stroller, thank you to everyone who helped me get it for her!), and I feel safe when she's there as it's hooked up to the Angelcare monitor. Her nicknames are Pumpkin, Monkey, Chicken Little, Kaia-Papaya, and occasionally mommy's little Acorn. I say Acorn only occasionally because it's funny how I don't really even associate her with my awful pregnancy. Acorn was her...and yet the two events just seem so far removed from each other. Pregnancy = awful. Kaia = great! 
During the day if she's been napping for awhile, I almost miss holding her and want her to wake up just so I can look in her big blue eyes.
I can't wait to see what the next 6 weeks of having her home will bring. Hopefully real smiles (that other people think are real too!) and maybe a giggle. Maybe some more sleep at night? (Pretty please!) Halloween costumes (I finally have a kid to dress up!!!)
Thank goodness you're you Kaia. You've been home 6 weeks and I can't imagine life without you.
Love you, my baby girl.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
The song that doesn't end...
Home 5 weeks
I don't get it. I just don't. Crazy scary things just keep popping up in our lives and I'm not sure how much more I can take.
It started last Sunday morning. It was the last day before Brian had to go back to work after being off since Kaia came home. I was understandably a little nervous about having to fly solo. It was a HUGE help having Brian at home, especially with Kaia's (ongoing) feeding issues and multiple doctor's appointments (11 appointments for her since she's been home: 2 with the lactation consultant, 2 weight checks back at the hospital, 3 with the pediatrician, 1 ROP eye exam, 1 orthopedic hip exam which greatly upset us, 2 ultrasounds, one on her head and one on her hip, and she has another orthopedic appointment down at the children's hospital on Tuesday).
Anyway, Sunday morning I get up and walk Kaia down to her room to change her. As I zip open her sleep sac, I notice that her legs look funny. Although she is still strapped into her harness her legs are no longer in the 'froggy' position that the orthopedic surgeon put her in after (PAINFULLY) popping her hip back into position. Nope...her legs are now in the same position that they had been in for 7 weeks. In short...her hip was once again dislocated.
Shit.
I was understandably upset, and started to think about Kaia having to go through having her hip reduced (PAINFULLY) AGAIN...and....
my heart started to feel funny....
really funny...
like it was fluttering and not beating like it should.
I tried taking my pulse in my carotid artery in my neck, and it didn't feel strong. It felt kind of slow and weak. I started to feel dizzy and had to sit down. Then my legs and arms started to feel kind of numb. I told Brian I had to go lie down. He went to get me a glass of juice and I started to feel like it was hard to breathe. Brian asked if I thought I needed an ambulance and I said yes. So we called one. The dispatcher on the phone asked him if he could find my pulse and later Brian told me he thought my pulse seemed kind of slow (my normal heart rate is > 90 resting due to my heart condition). He must have sounded upset on the phone because not one but two ambulance crews arrived within minutes.
While Brian was on the phone with the dispatcher I started to feel a little better and by the time the ambulance crew showed up, I felt I could breathe a little easier and my heart seemed to have returned to a more normal rhythm. They checked me out and although my blood pressure was pretty low (77/56) initially, it improved within a minute or two and I felt okay enough to send them away without going to hospital.
But, as you can imagine, the whole episode freaked me RIGHT THE FUCK OUT. Because although it COULD have been a panic attack (which I have had before and I know from experience can be very scary), it didn't entirely FEEL like a panic attack. The heart rate thing was different. Usually during panic attacks it feels as though your heart is pounding, like you ran up a flight of stairs...this felt like my heart was fluttering...beating quickly, but shallowly, if that makes any sense.
Fortunately I just so happened to have had a cardiac appointment scheduled on Thursday. For anyone who knows me in real life who is reading this, please don't panic. All my tests came back absolutely normal (well not normal of course, they will never be normal...but normal for me). And my cardiologist didn't seem TOO concerned. To 'do something' she decided to get a holter monitor on me (which is like an heart rate monitor that you wear for 24 hours and it monitors your heart rate and rhythm). The results will be available this week. So while it could have been a irregular heart rhythm, which can happen with my particular heart defect, it would also seem very coincidental timing for a person who has never had an irregular rhythm to suddenly have one at that particular time when I was (admittedly) very upset.
After hearing my heart was okay from my cardiologist I started to take stock of my physical body and realized how tense I am. My shoulders are in knots. My lower back is constantly sore. I have an eye twitch. I find it hard to sit still. I find it hard to concentrate. I'm tired. I have come to the conclusion that I need to RELAX. I have been so stressed out for SO long that I am coming to the end of my ability to deal with things. If you've been following along you understand that they last two years have been STRESSFUL. And while coming home with Kaia was wonderful and fulfilling, it has had it's own challenges and pitfalls.
So after realizing this, I resolve that this weekend is going to be relaxing and fun. We have visits scheduled with friends and family. We are just going to chill and enjoy. Brian will be around to help with the night feedings, so I can get a bit more sleep. Sounds good right?
But then our cat gets sick.
Like puking all over the place, not eating or drinking, sick.
So after hoping she would improve today (she didn't) tonight at 6pm Brian takes her to the emergency vet as our regular one isn't open on Sunday. They give her IV hydration and some pain meds, but also tell Brian that she might have an intestinal blockage and if we want it investigated it would be $170 for an x-ray. Then if they found something on the x-ray and surgery was needed that could be in the $2000-3000 range.
!!!!
We haven't even begun paying off my $2000 hospital stay...we can't afford to pay that much or more for our cat.
Of course, then we feel like awful people. We love our cat. She was our first 'baby'...even before Aidan. She's only 4 years old and deserves to have a healthy long life. She's never even had any issues up until today!
So tonight was the second time in less than 2 weeks that both Brian and I were crying due to fear and sadness and stress of having to cope with one of our 'babies' in pain.
In the end we decided to do the x-ray, which showed no blockages. Our kitty is now resting at home, hydrated from the IV and hopefully feeling no pain after the meds. Our instructions were not to feed her overnight, and if she has no more vomiting to give her some of this special cat food they had us purchase which is more easily digestible. If she's still sick overnight, we're to take her to our regular vet tomorrow. But I really hope she's better...and so does my wallet.
And now I have to go and pump breast milk for the 7th time today, then bottle feed Kaia, then try to sleep and hope that the morning makes everything seem a little bit brighter.
I don't get it. I just don't. Crazy scary things just keep popping up in our lives and I'm not sure how much more I can take.
It started last Sunday morning. It was the last day before Brian had to go back to work after being off since Kaia came home. I was understandably a little nervous about having to fly solo. It was a HUGE help having Brian at home, especially with Kaia's (ongoing) feeding issues and multiple doctor's appointments (11 appointments for her since she's been home: 2 with the lactation consultant, 2 weight checks back at the hospital, 3 with the pediatrician, 1 ROP eye exam, 1 orthopedic hip exam which greatly upset us, 2 ultrasounds, one on her head and one on her hip, and she has another orthopedic appointment down at the children's hospital on Tuesday).
Anyway, Sunday morning I get up and walk Kaia down to her room to change her. As I zip open her sleep sac, I notice that her legs look funny. Although she is still strapped into her harness her legs are no longer in the 'froggy' position that the orthopedic surgeon put her in after (PAINFULLY) popping her hip back into position. Nope...her legs are now in the same position that they had been in for 7 weeks. In short...her hip was once again dislocated.
Shit.
I was understandably upset, and started to think about Kaia having to go through having her hip reduced (PAINFULLY) AGAIN...and....
my heart started to feel funny....
really funny...
like it was fluttering and not beating like it should.
I tried taking my pulse in my carotid artery in my neck, and it didn't feel strong. It felt kind of slow and weak. I started to feel dizzy and had to sit down. Then my legs and arms started to feel kind of numb. I told Brian I had to go lie down. He went to get me a glass of juice and I started to feel like it was hard to breathe. Brian asked if I thought I needed an ambulance and I said yes. So we called one. The dispatcher on the phone asked him if he could find my pulse and later Brian told me he thought my pulse seemed kind of slow (my normal heart rate is > 90 resting due to my heart condition). He must have sounded upset on the phone because not one but two ambulance crews arrived within minutes.
While Brian was on the phone with the dispatcher I started to feel a little better and by the time the ambulance crew showed up, I felt I could breathe a little easier and my heart seemed to have returned to a more normal rhythm. They checked me out and although my blood pressure was pretty low (77/56) initially, it improved within a minute or two and I felt okay enough to send them away without going to hospital.
But, as you can imagine, the whole episode freaked me RIGHT THE FUCK OUT. Because although it COULD have been a panic attack (which I have had before and I know from experience can be very scary), it didn't entirely FEEL like a panic attack. The heart rate thing was different. Usually during panic attacks it feels as though your heart is pounding, like you ran up a flight of stairs...this felt like my heart was fluttering...beating quickly, but shallowly, if that makes any sense.
Fortunately I just so happened to have had a cardiac appointment scheduled on Thursday. For anyone who knows me in real life who is reading this, please don't panic. All my tests came back absolutely normal (well not normal of course, they will never be normal...but normal for me). And my cardiologist didn't seem TOO concerned. To 'do something' she decided to get a holter monitor on me (which is like an heart rate monitor that you wear for 24 hours and it monitors your heart rate and rhythm). The results will be available this week. So while it could have been a irregular heart rhythm, which can happen with my particular heart defect, it would also seem very coincidental timing for a person who has never had an irregular rhythm to suddenly have one at that particular time when I was (admittedly) very upset.
After hearing my heart was okay from my cardiologist I started to take stock of my physical body and realized how tense I am. My shoulders are in knots. My lower back is constantly sore. I have an eye twitch. I find it hard to sit still. I find it hard to concentrate. I'm tired. I have come to the conclusion that I need to RELAX. I have been so stressed out for SO long that I am coming to the end of my ability to deal with things. If you've been following along you understand that they last two years have been STRESSFUL. And while coming home with Kaia was wonderful and fulfilling, it has had it's own challenges and pitfalls.
So after realizing this, I resolve that this weekend is going to be relaxing and fun. We have visits scheduled with friends and family. We are just going to chill and enjoy. Brian will be around to help with the night feedings, so I can get a bit more sleep. Sounds good right?
But then our cat gets sick.
Like puking all over the place, not eating or drinking, sick.
So after hoping she would improve today (she didn't) tonight at 6pm Brian takes her to the emergency vet as our regular one isn't open on Sunday. They give her IV hydration and some pain meds, but also tell Brian that she might have an intestinal blockage and if we want it investigated it would be $170 for an x-ray. Then if they found something on the x-ray and surgery was needed that could be in the $2000-3000 range.
!!!!
We haven't even begun paying off my $2000 hospital stay...we can't afford to pay that much or more for our cat.
Of course, then we feel like awful people. We love our cat. She was our first 'baby'...even before Aidan. She's only 4 years old and deserves to have a healthy long life. She's never even had any issues up until today!
So tonight was the second time in less than 2 weeks that both Brian and I were crying due to fear and sadness and stress of having to cope with one of our 'babies' in pain.
In the end we decided to do the x-ray, which showed no blockages. Our kitty is now resting at home, hydrated from the IV and hopefully feeling no pain after the meds. Our instructions were not to feed her overnight, and if she has no more vomiting to give her some of this special cat food they had us purchase which is more easily digestible. If she's still sick overnight, we're to take her to our regular vet tomorrow. But I really hope she's better...and so does my wallet.
And now I have to go and pump breast milk for the 7th time today, then bottle feed Kaia, then try to sleep and hope that the morning makes everything seem a little bit brighter.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)