Happy

It’s hard to believe the baby is almost two weeks old. We’ve been having to work a little to adjust as SC has some day-night confusion. This is not new to us as MJ had it as well, but that was almost seven years ago now and not only were we younger as we were operating on less sleep, but there also weren’t any other kids at that point.

I am surprised with how well the three older ones seem to be sleeping through the night, considering how they act during the day if they hear the baby cry. Once she starts to fuss even a little bit, at least one will shout “the baby!” and run down the hallway to rescue her from her bed.

SC is indeed a lucky girl, with a big brother and two big sisters who love and adore her so much. My heart is full. I am one happy mama.

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I sit here in this hospital bed, knowing I should be asleep, but finding it alludes me once again.

On Monday at 8:23pm, we were blessed with another beautiful daughter. SC is such a content and happy little girl, but I find I just feel so guilty about this whole thing. I fought with the midwife during delivery over who knew my body best. I won, SC did not. SC is currently undergoing light therapy for jaundice which she was a greater risk for because of being delivered early. She has had to undergo intensive blood glucose testing over a 24hour period because of the medication I was on because of the high blood pressures. My issues, which were supposed to be eliminated upon her birth, linger.

So my question is, why did I even bother? Why did I not just continue walking around as an uncomfortable zombie in order to avoid all this falling on the baby instead? Also, why did not one single medical professional I have seen over the last two of three months feel it necessary to inform me an out the glucose levels in my baby? Like really? No one? I was infuriated with this one, on top the the guilt I was already experiencing over everything else.

I have received a verbal promise we will both go home tomorrow, but I’m not letting it get my hopes up. I don’t really believe a word they tell me anymore. I Just want to take my baby home…

Update

The drama continued for the most part. I had to have another hospital stay where I was diagnosed with pre-eclampsia on top of everything else. After a while, the doctors were finally convinced baby and I were stable enough to be left alone. But even by this, I just mean we weren’t admitted long term. We were seen once per week at the hospital for growth and doppler ultrasounds, once per week at the office for checkups and NSTs, and had to have weekly blood work.

On Monday, I will have reached 37 weeks. As this is considered full-term, I have been scheduled for an induction. As much as I’m not looking forward to the induction itself (my induction with EM was just awful), I am looking forward to the end of this pregnancy. I give props to any woman who has had this level of difficulty within a pregnancy and then willingly does it again.

So, as I have been absent due to sickness, starting Monday, I will be absent due to baby! I will most definitely be enjoying my baby snuggle time, but will try to return to a normal schedule within a few weeks.

Update

Today, I finally returned home after a four day, three night stay on the labor and delivery floor of our hospital.

This escapade began early Saturday morning when I was repeating some failed lab work and also doing additional testing. By Saturday afternoon, I had already received a results phone call, my values were that bad.

Upon arrival and admission, I was officially diagnosed preeclamptic. While monitoring me and trying to get my pressures under control, it was discovered I was also suffering from hypokalemia and hypomagnesemia.

I was on bed rest the whole time and while being pumped full of medicine to address these three issues, I was also give massive amounts of steroids to help baby’s lungs be ready a little sooner. The easy fix to all this is delivery, but at 31 weeks, they want us to hold out as long as my body will allow.

My next few weeks are riddled with self-monitoring and multiple doctor visits for NSTs, dopplers, growth ultrasounds, and lab work.

To top everything off, baby stubbornly stays in a breech position and now has given me pregnancy induced carpal tunnel – which let me tell you, made all the blood pressures I had to do undeniably painful.

To end this most current chapter of this pregnancy, I have to diligently follow all these rules and also faithfully take my meds. But if things begin leaning in a poor direction, baby will be coming. So, from now on, whenever anyone asks about when I’m due, the answer is no longer Christmas Eve. “This baby could arrive any day now.”

Update

Shortly after my last post, CJ and I discovered something. This information very quickly turned me into a ball of anxiety, yet I was terrified to unfurl. I only spoke to the people closest to me and limited conversations at that. I was terrified history would repeat itself.

CJ and I had been discussing the possibility of trying for another baby, but before we had the chance to actually reach a decision, we found I was pregnant. It was difficult to be excited. CJ even confessed to me he was afraid to get attached.

I didn’t post anything here for a long time because this was all I wanted to talk about. But heaven forbid something bad should happen again.

Even now, at 28 weeks, I have been hesitant to share. This has been my most difficult pregnancy by far and the beginning was riddled with problems and scares.

My dating ultrasound discovered two gestational sacs. I had to return two weeks later to verify the viability of either. Only one had a heartbeat. Because I experienced some bleeding at the loss of the other sac, more ultrasounds were necessary to make sure the other baby was fine.

Now I agonizingly waited for that magical 12 week mark when women feel more “safe.” That feeling never arrived for me. I battled horrible morning sickness, weight loss, and worry. Eventually, the morning sickness slowed down and the weight loss plateaued, but I still see the return of my breakfast at least once per week.

At my anatomical ultrasound, it was discovered that I had what is called a marginal cord insertion. Basically, because this began as a twin pregnancy and that wasn’t resolved properly, this baby’s umbilical cord is not located where it should be on the placenta. This causes the placenta to work harder than normal – therefore, the placenta may not survive the full length of the pregnancy. This means more ultrasounds. We have to constantly watch the weight of the baby to make sure it’s still getting the proper amount of nutrition. Should the baby drop below the 10th percentile in estimated weight, it will then be determined the baby would be better out than in.

I have another ultrasound next week, but for now I’m not overly concerned about it. Baby moves quite a bit and it’s estimated weight would have to tank a lot from last measurement to reach the danger zone. However, I cannot help but be nervous before every scan, every doctor visit. All I want is for this baby to be healthy. As sick as I have been, I sincerely hope this little one stays put until its Christmas Eve due date. Besides having had to already bury a child, I can think of nothing more terrifying than having to sit beside this little one in the NICU because it simply wasn’t ready to join the world yet.

But here it is. The little nugget who needs all our love and prayers. The one I’m going to try to be just a little bit braver for.  🙂

Baby B

Little Nugget

Wish us luck!

PS…I will try to post more regularly again in the hopes this will also help my mental state. Thanks for sticking with me.

 

I have never liked my birthday. Now, as an adult, I dislike it even more. “Why?” you may ask. In my experience, it seems the older you get, the more people are apt to forget. And what’s worse than a forgotten birthday? A forgotten milestone birthday.

I have always said I wanted to go big for this past birthday. But as sitters and whatnot fell through, I realized that just wasn’t going to happen. As for the day of, all I was expecting were for the important people in my life to at least say, “Happy birthday.”

CJ and I had stayed up past midnight, so we already said it to each other (we share the day). My mom called at my birth time – which I actually think is quite adorable. My dad called in the afternoon sometime. My father-in-law sent a text.  My girlfriend who shares the day as well sent a text. One of my family members, two of CJ’s siblings, and a few friends used Facebook. Members of my family remembered CJ and wished him happy birthday, but forgot we share the day. My own sister forgot both of us. Three days later when she called, I answered only because I thought she had finally remembered. She had not.

I couldn’t care less about most of this, but from my sister, it really hurt. I have done so much for her and always try to be there for her. We have already moved on, but it was just one more reason to feel like garbage on my birthday. Can’t we just skip them? Once you hit 25 and can rent a car, do we really need to keep track anymore?

This anti-birthday sentiment has kept me down for a while. Also, sickness was running rampant through our house. Except for Q’s ear infection, everything else seems to have cleared up. Let’s keep our fingers crossed that even in this crazy weather, we all stay healthy.

IT: Revisited

After hearing about the hilarity that ensued when my sister and I went to the theater to see IT, CJ decided he would also like to see it as well. He surprised me on Friday night by renting it for us.

While I was busy mentally preparing myself to watch the movie again, I looked over at CJ to see this:

IMG_8409

Unicorn Magic

According to CJ, the big, pink unicorn we had bought for Q would keep him safe from the movie. Also, even though we tend to watch movies with the lights off, he insisted the lights stay on. Apparently, there was no way he was willing to watch this one in the dark.

I knew CJ had been texting my sister before we started the movie as she needed help with her computer. Neither of us realized she had messaged him that she was on her way over for in person help, as we were already engrossed in the movie. Next thing I knew, the front door was shaking because someone was trying to get in!

I’ll admit, I jumped. Bad. I did that weird whisper/yell thing, telling CJ to go see what was going on. He’s the one who got the scary movie; he should be the one to deal with the consequences.

He came back, leading my sister with him. Assuming we had seen her message and unlocked the door for her, she had just tried to walk in. She said since she knew the kids were already in bed, she figured texting ahead of time would be better than getting here, knocking, and making the dog go nuts. Needless to say, this definitely added an extra element to the movie.

After my sister left, CJ resumed his position with the unicorn and we finished the movie. The next day, he used a “Pennywise” voice all day, calling me “Georgie,” just to freak me out. I didn’t think this was fair at all as the movie was his choice and at least I didn’t have to snuggle a pink fuzzball to make my way through it.

At least I got this amazing picture though, right?  🙂