Monday, February 28, 2011

Beautiful Day

The Spirit himself bears witness to our spirit that we are God's children. Romans 8:16

Day of Life: 6

Despite the fact that we were surrounded by beeping machines and strangers walking in and out of our room, today felt more like what I remember a normal day being just after having a baby. Let me explain.

The morning started off with Tera behaving just a little too much like her big brother. She was very active, and the nurse (Helen) worried that she needed to calm down so that she would not lose too many calories. Her weight now down to 2 lbs. 3 ounces, she really doesn't have that many to waste. Though she had been under the bilirubin lights the day before, they were stimulating her too much. The doctors also think that losing the lights might benefit the PDA (opening between her heart and lungs) that they are hoping will close on its own very soon. They have also withheld feedings today because she had too much residual left in her belly after her last feeding yesterday evening, about the same time that they found the yellow-green spit up. This digestion problem is also probably due to a blood flow issue, which relates back to the PDA. So today will just be a day of waiting. Waiting to see what the PDA will do. Waiting to see if she can start taking milk again. Waiting to see if her bili numbers stay low. Just waiting, and I'm ok with that.
When MyGoo and I arrived at the hospital, the lights were off, and there was a blanket draped over Tera's Giraffe. The bottom half of her body was swaddled, and she just looked so cozy. Early in the afternoon, Helen turned her over on her belly. Laying on their stomachs makes it easier for premies to breathe. After turning her over and reswaddling her lower half, Tera was out for the day.


She would raise her eyebrows to try to open her eyes and look around on occasion, but for the most part she stayed very calm. I loved getting to see her whole face now that her "sunglasses" are off. I think of my grandmother everytime I look at her. Not sure if she'll look like Sister in a few months, but for now she's taken on a little-old-lady appearance. I'm growing more attached every second.


Later in the afternoon, Helen gave Tera a pacifier because she saw that Tera really liked to suck on the sponge they use to swab her mouth. It's half the size of her face, but still so precious. Below is one of the diapers she is wearing these days. I didn't know they made them so tiny.


While Tera slept, MyGoo and I spent most of the day either with our feet propped up or staring at Tera. I had some logistical things to take care of, but otherwise it was a very relaxing day. We had several visitors come by, not unlike what our house would be like if we were there. That's why I say today was as much like a regular new-baby day as I can imagine right now.
When MyGoo and I left the hospital, we stopped to eat at the Purple Onion, one of my favorite restaurants when I was in college. While there, Barry called to say a quick "hello" and "good night." During our conversation, Canon started screaming so Barry went to check out the situation. Canon had pushed the railing from his crib off of its track, and I think it must have scared him. I stayed on the line to try to talk Barry through how to fix it. While he fixed, Canon picked up the phone and started talking to me. One of the things that we always do before bed is sing together. Canon loves it. I started singing "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands," "ABC's," and "Head and Shoulder, Knees and Toes." Somewhere during our melody, Canon hit the mute button on the phone so I couldn't hear him sing along. Barry assured me later that he was singing and clapping his hands and as excited as ever. Once Barry fixed the crib, we all sang one more round of "Whole World" before the boys went to bed.

Though I felt extremely awkward singing nursery rhymes in the middle of a restaurant, this will always be one of my fondest parenting memories . . . the night that Barry and I successfully entertained a two-year-old and fixed a piece of furniture, all while two hundred miles apart. Maybe God did know what he was doing when he gave us Tera.

Sunday, February 27, 2011

Another Separation

If I then, your Lord and Teacher, have washed your feet, you too ought to wash one another's feet. John 13:14

Day of Life: 5

After such a good night, I was eager to see Tera this morning. Barry decided to take some time to himself, so MyGoo, Doc, and I hung out with Canon. We went to the hospital for a few minutes just to check in, then decided to get some logistical things done before MyGoo and I were left to fend for ourselves in Birmingham. Doc headed home, but not before making me promise not to walk too much. This meant that, when we went to Target, I had to drive one of the motorized carts around. It actually worked out pretty well. Canon was so interested in me tagging along behind he and MyGoo in the cart that he didn't even think to misbehave. He was so good, in fact, that MyGoo bought him a new train (Bill) to add to his collection.

After leaving Target, we went to Big Mom's to meet Barry's family for lunch, then it was back to Bob and Jamie's for a much-needed nap. I kept forgetting why I was so tired all the time, until I remembered that I'd had major surgery only five days ago, not to mention the trauma of having my brand new baby shipped off to Tube Land. Later that evening, before we returned to the hospital, I sat with Jamie while the kids ate their dinner. Canon had a runny nose, and for whatever reason - hormones, exhaustion - I burst into tears. Who was going to wipe his runny nose at home while I am here? Who is going to do everything the way that I do it? While I was trying to put on a brave face, this was going to be harder than I originally planned.

Barry and Canon went to the hospital with us to spend their last few minutes with Tera before heading back to Dothan. They left around 9:00, and when they arrived in Dothan after midnight, Barry reported that Canon had never fallen asleep. Now, I'm not quite so upset that I didn't go home with them!

MyGoo and I stayed at the hospital after Barry and Canon left. Earlier that evening, Sandra, our nurse tonight, had seen that Tera spit up some yellow-green bile. Mim, the Fellow on duty that night assumed that it was normal preemie stuff, but thought there was a possibility of some kind of barrier in her tummy. She ordered a belly scan to see and decided to drop her feeds from 6cc to 3cc until the matter was taken care of.

During rounds tonight (my first real experience with "rounds"), a large team of doctors - at least ten I think - strolled into the room. One began reading Tera's charts to update the Attending (doctor in charge) on Tera's situation. They discussed her earlier fluid issue and the fact that her feeds had been reduced. They spoke in code for several minutes, discussing TFI (I later learned this stands for Total Fluid Intake) and other various acronyms. One doctor took out what looked to be an iPhone similar to mine and began punching numbers and operation symbols into what I can only assume is a special app made just for neonatologists. I sat in the chair, looking back and forth from one scrubbed M.D. to the next and wondering when I would ever understand what they are talking about.

Finally, the Attending turned to me and said, "So, do you have any questions?"

Seriously? I can think of a few: What language are you speaking? Can you translate it into third grade teacher language? But all I could manage was "Is everything ok?" This got a few laughs from the peanut gallery, and a positive response from the Attending. Tera was fine. They would continue to decrease feeds until the spit up issue is resolved.

These are Tera's pictures for today. We have all become a little obsessed with her big feet, so they are showcased in a lot of pictures.


Saturday, February 26, 2011

Two Drama Queens and a Breathing Tube

My eyes grow tired as I wait for your promise to be fulfilled. I say, "When will you comfort me?" Psalm 119:82

Day of Life: 4


MyGoo, Doc, and I arrived in Birmingham about 12:30 this afternoon. I told Barry the day before that when I arrived, I wanted him to take me to see Tera alone. I didn't want to risk breaking down in front of all of our family and friends. He agreed and met us in the parking lot to walk me to the room. He held my hand the whole way up.
When we arrived in Tera's room, I noticed that she was so much smaller than I remember her being. She also looked so much sicker than I remembered. I was able to watch her for several minutes before eventually crying. Barry and I sat together for about an hour while he showed me all of the monitors and explained their sounds and numbers. I have no recollection of what he said, but I eventually came to learn what everything meant.
Here is a quick tour of her NICU room. This is the view from the hall and the pink bow that Jamie bought for our door.
These are the family accommodations. I spend a lot of time in the recliner.
This is the nurse's station, but we use it a good bit as well to scrub in. That's a refrigerator on the far left. We're allowed to keep drinks in there, but no food, please!
And, of course, Tera's section of the room. Her heart and respiratory monitors are on the left. The bed (called a Giraffe) is in the middle. And her IV fluids and monitors are on the right. They all make different noises, and all of them are loud.
Barry's favorite nurse, Susan, was there that day. Susan would also come to be one of my favorite people. She took such great care of Tera, even coming to visit us several days later when we moved to a new floor.
Barry was utterly exhausted. He was so glad that I had finally made it there. Of course, he wanted me there to be able to spend time with me, but the biggest reason for his relief was the fact that now I could take some of the pressure off of him. He had been dealing with beeping monitors, a temperamental Canon, and meeting new people with whom he had to trust his daughter's life. It was just getting to be too much. I'm glad I waited an extra day to come. This was going to be a big load to take over.
One of the things that Barry really wanted was for me to touch Tera. He had not touched her yet for a couple of reasons. I think mainly, he wanted me to be the first to hold her hand. He also, however, is a major worrier when it comes to germs and diseases. I think he worried that he might pass something on to her that would cause even more stress to her weak system. After scrubbing in, I touched Tera for the first time since the night she was born.
She is so tiny and fragile. The nurses warned that preemies are very prone to overstimulation, so I shouldn't rub her arms or legs. I should apply a stronger pressure when I touch her. My sister-in-law, Michele, is an Occupational Therapist, and she worked in a NICU for several years. She explained to me also that preemies love boundaries. When they kick their feet out or stretch out their arms, they're looking for something to push back and cuddle them up. I would eventually get used to this way of touching Tera, but this first time was a little awkward.
After spending some time together, we got a call that (Big) Tera's mother, Pat, and sister, Abby, had come to visit. I was thrilled that they were my first visitors. Of course, Barry had hosted dozens more before this, but these were my first. Because I was just learning everything myself, I wasn't able to explain too much to them. We mostly just sat in amazement at the fact that Tera was here, alive, and seemed to be doing well. "Wow" was said a lot.
The rest of the day was spent learning NICU rules and procedures (sounds a little like the first day of third grade). MyGoo and Doc came up to meet Tera and, of course, to provide whatever support I needed. A cardiologist came in at some point to do an echocardiogram on Tera's heart. He found that she has a Patent Ductus Arteriosis (I apologize for the spelling), or PDA. This means that the ductus arteriosis (space between her heart and lungs) is opened (patent). This normally closes naturally when a baby is born full term and takes their first big cry. Many preemies have them, so this is nothing to worry about now. Barry left soon after that just to get out and get some air.
In the early evening, Tera made her first dramatic move on me. She waited until all of my visitors had left so that I was there with only the nurses. When Susan flipped her over, Tera's oxygen tube came loose, and she extubated herself. The respiratory therapist rushed right in, followed closely by a team of doctors.
For several minutes, there was a lot of discussion about what to do next. She'd been doing so well on her oxygen, should we wait and see how she does off the ventilator? For those several minutes I stood right beside her incubator and watched my tiny baby struggle to breathe. Because all of the tubes and tape were off her face, the RT asked if I wanted to take a picture of her.
I hate this picture. All it does is remind me of her struggle and mine. Eventually, I broke down into tears and walked to the back of the room where Nonna and Poppa stood. They had arrived shorty after her extubation. It was at this point that Dr. Sims made the decision to reintubate. "We don't want to set her up to fail. Slow and steady." I couldn't agree more.
Canon was in the Family Room so I left soon after to see him for the first time since Wednesday morning. I just couldn't be in that room any more. I wanted to see Tera sleeping and peaceful, not having to fight for breaths. This just wasn't fair.
I called my parents when I got to the Family Room and asked that they come and get me. They had gone to a restaurant to give me some time with Barry's family, and my dad immediately called to the waiter "Check, please." So many emotions. It was great to see Canon, though so depressing that I couldn't pick him up and love on him. He's not much for just sitting in laps, so I just had to watch him run around like a wild man, all while feeling guilty over the fact that I was not in Tera's room with her. And then there was Barry. Shouldn't I be showing him attention, too? When all I really wanted to do was curl up in a ball by myself and cry. This is not what mothers do, however, so I forced my way through the next few hours.
My parents arrived and drove us to Bob and Jamie's house, where we would be spending our first two nights in Birmingham. Most of that evening is a cloudy haze to me. I know we ate chili that Bob made, and I know Canon and Eleanor (Bob and Jamie's daughter) played with Eleanor's kitchen set. Otherwise, I was just present that night. Barry had made the decision to go to the hospital late that night. Tera's worst times seem to be happening around midnight, and he wanted to be there to cheer her on tonight. He left Bob and Jamie's about 11:00 and returned at 2:00 a.m. the next morning. His plan worked. Tera had a completely eventless night.

Friday, February 25, 2011

Discharged to Recharge

For the one who enters God's rest has also rested from his works, just as God did from his own works. Hebrews 4:10

Day of Life: 3 - A Tough Decision

What Happened Last Night
At 3:00 a.m. I got a call from one of Tera's doctors at UAB. Earlier that night, around 11:00, he had made the decision to extubate her and take her off the ventilator. Not sure the exact reasons behind this decision (we learned later that the Attending on duty would not have made that decision), but nonetheless, it was made. By about 1:00 a.m. it was obvious that Tera was not going to make it without the extra help of machines, so the decision was made to re-intubate. During that process, they found blood in her throat and mouth. This was the reason for the 3:00 a.m. call to me. The doctor explained that the blood could be due to a possible scratch in her throat created during extubation. It also could be due to the possibility of blood in her lungs. Hmmm. Not what you want to hear about your baby at 3:00 a.m. barely more than 24 hours after she's born. He needed my approval to give a blood transfusion to replace the blood that Tera had lost. Um, yes please. Feel free to replace my premature baby's blood.

I made the decision not to wake up Barry who slept on the couch beside me. When he awoke on his own a few hours later, however, he was very worried about the situation and left Dothan as quickly as possible to get back to Birmingham. Hence, my reasoning for not waking him at 3:00. He surely would have been on the road then. My parents stayed with me at the hospital the rest of the morning until I was discharged around lunch time. I had made the decision the night before that, even though I was able to leave the hospital, I needed one more day of rest before facing the drama of a NICU. I was extremely tired after four nights in a row with miniscule amounts of sleep, sore from the major surgery I had endured two days prior, and just emotionally unstable from all of the above. I thought I was handling things pretty well, but I feared it would be a different story when I got to Birmingham. My parents took me home where I spent the rest of the day resting and trying to make sense of what I needed to take with me to Birmingham the next day.

How do you plan for something like this? How long would I be there before I could come back home? Do I take maternity clothes or regular clothes? It's warm now, but isn't it supposed to cool off before too long? What will Tera need? What do I need to entertain myself while at the hospital? How was I going to prepare for the live version of this:

Who will Canon stay with? What does he need? Where will I be living for the next three months? Too many things to think about, so I eventually gave up and decided to wait until I was with my husband to make any major decisions.

While I know that many mothers would probably think I am horrible for having taken an extra 20 hours before rushing to see my new baby, I think it is the best decision I've made since giving birth to Tera. While I was still exhausted when I arrived in Birmingham the next day, I saw many mothers fresh from the Delivery Room who were absolute wrecks over their preemies. I learned a long time ago that if you ever want to truly help someone, you have to help yourself first. You have to make sure you are at your best so that you can be your best for someone else. This definitely isn't my best, but it is better than I was yesterday, and that is the most I can ask for at this point.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

So This is How It Feels to Have a Baby in the NICU

Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will trouble, or distress, or persecution, or famine, or nakedness, or danger, or sword? . . . No, in all these things we have complete victory through him who loved us! For I am convinced that neither death, nor life, nor angels, nor heavenly rulers, nor things that are present, nor things to come, nor powers, nor height, nor depth, nor anything else in creation will be able to separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus our Lord. Romans 8:35, 37-39

Day of Life: 2 - The First Separation

What Happened Last Night
Tera arrived at UAB about 1:00 this morning. Nonna and Poppa were there to meet her, though they were not allowed back to her room until she was all settled into her new temporary home.

They spent some time with her and got some information from the docs and nurses before going back to Aunt Debbie's to get some sleep.


Throughout the day, Tera received lots of visitors. Here are just a few of those who stopped by.









Her first day at the hospital was medically pretty uneventful. She started the day with 100% oxygenation in her ventilator (i.e., not doing any of the work on her own), but her nurse was able to reduce it to 25% by the end of the day. Bob checked on her constantly and gave us regular updates so that we felt included in her care. Barry drove Canon to Birmingham that afternoon so that Nonna could keep up with him while Barry dealt with things at the hospital. I had been able to express a small amount of colustrum that morning, and Barry was so excited to be able to take it to Tera. Her Neonatologists are adamant about their preemies taking breast milk. Apparently, it's better than medicine in some cases.



What About Mom?

Of course, I'm stuck in a hospital bed at Flowers trying to recover from surgery. I'm actually very glad to be here knowing that there are so many taking care of Tera in Birmingham. While I am still at peace about the long-term effects of her prematurity, I still feel like an emotional wreck and am actually happy that I can't just sit and stare at my tube-infested baby. My sister spent the whole day with me and wouldn't let me lift a finger. She knew what I needed before I knew that I needed it.




Like Tera, I too had several visitors including so many of my closest friends and lots of people I work with. I have two friends who recently went through similar experiences, and they both came by to share their stories and advice. I came to learn that, because Tera is a girl, her chances of getting through all of this unscathed is a little higher than if she had been born a boy. Boys just tend to be lazier. I'm shocked!




Barry and friends texted me all day, sending me pictures of my new daughter. These are two of my favorites.




Later in the day, my sister received this picture from a friend in Greenville. This is her daughter, Amelia's, class praying for baby Tera.


This is just one example of the dozens of calls, texts, and emails that Barry and I have received pouring out prayers and encouragement for Tera and our family. Just as I felt when Tera first came into the world, all will be well.



Dr. Nicholls came by that evening to check on me. We talked about possible reasons for my early delivery. He said that because my contractions were so sporadic and far apart, there was no reason why I should have been dilated so much. His best guess is that I must have an Incompetent (or weak) Cervix. He told me that if Barry and I decided to have more children, he wanted me to see a high-risk pregnancy doc first to see if I might need some surgery to correct that problem. We'll give it a few years, I think!



My sister returned to her family late in the afternoon, just before my parents showed up to continue her duties as my Cheif Nurse. MyGoo had been in North Carolina when we gave her the news last night that Tera was coming a little early. She left first thing this morning so that she and Doc could be here for me. They spent the night at my house, and when Barry returned to Dothan around midnight, he took up residence on the couch in my hospital room until the morning. He is so tired and really going through a lot right now, though he would never tell me about it. I have enough to worry about, he thinks, and all he wants to do is help.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

God Things

God saw that the light was good, so God separated the light from the darkness. God called the light "day" and the darkness "night." There was evening, and there was morning, marking the first day. Genesis 1:4-5

Day of Life: 1 - Delivery Day

I am one of those strange people who believes that everything is a God thing. While He makes himself known in more obvious ways sometimes, I believe that everything that happens in our lives is God's way of trying to get us where we need to go. If we actually get there is left up to us. When I get caught - I mean like really stuck - behind a slow-moving vehicle, I truly believe that that car is there to keep me from something up ahead that I don't need to be apart of. Maybe a cop, maybe a wreck. There's something ahead that I need to miss so that I can get where I really need to be. This does not mean I never get Road Rage and on occasion find ways around this annoying vehicle. It's just my way of handling the situation that God put in front of me.

Having said this, I believe that my Delivery Story started two nights ago, when I couldn't sleep. Usually zonked out by 9:00 or 9:30, it was well past midnight on Monday, February 21, before I was finally able to fall asleep. The next night, I had no trouble going to sleep, but I was wide awake at 2:30 and up until almost 5:00 before falling asleep again. Needless to say, I was exhausted this morning when I awoke to begin my day.

I thought that some exercise might help get me going, so I took Bull on a slow and steady walk around our neighborhood before getting ready for work. By the end of the walk, my back was hurting pretty badly. I didn't think too much about it. I've had aches and pains throughout this entire pregnancy, mostly due to the fact that it is not my first and that I've been tending to an almost-two-year old who doesn't sit still. I went to work, anticipating that by lunch I would probably call in a substitute to finish my day for me. I felt ok but knew that a few hours of rest might make a big difference today. Ironically, my principal's morning announcement had to do with getting a good night's sleep. She asked the school to promise to start going to bed earlier than we typically do, and I vowed to stick to that promise.

When I arrived at school, a situation that had arisen the week before was now coming to a head, and I really needed/wanted to stay and deal with it. I needed to meet with some people to try to resolve the issue, and this meant that I would need to stay all day. No big deal. The more I worked, the less I noticed my pain. I did, however, move my stool around quite a bit throughout the day so that I could sit as much as possible. Mrs. Hamilton, the aide in my classroom, was also so great about not letting me do too much. She knew how tired I was.

As the day wore on I started having some pains in my abdomen, but they went virtually unnoticed, probably due to the pain in my back. By lunch, my abdomen pains were getting more severe. Because they only happened once every hour or so, and they really weren't that terrible, I tried not to worry too much about them. Probably just due to stress. I went to my meetings that afternoon and was finally ready to go home by 4:30. At this point, I wasn't overly worried that something was really wrong, but I was starting to feel like things weren't completely right either. I should also mention here that since Monday morning, I had been having a discharge (sorry if that is too gross for some), and it had been getting steadily heavier throughout the the week. I called to check on it yesterday, but the nurse found no need to worry about it. She suggested that maybe it was just an infection that would probably clear up on its own.

So it's 4:30, and I'm finally leaving work when I realize that I left my phone at home this morning. I couldn't put off calling the doctor any longer, so I decided to go get it before going to pick up Canon. I explained to the nurse the pains that I was having and the discharge. Because it was so late in the afternoon, her advice was to wait until the morning when I could come in to see the on-call doctor. I could go to the ER tonight, but that would lead to a very long wait, and she agreed with yesterday's nurse that this was probably no worse than an infection. I was completely comfortable with that diagnosis and decided that I really just needed to lay low and rest for the remainder of the night.

I called Barry to see if he could go get Canon; I knew I couldn't handle him right now. As soon as he answered the phone and I began to explain my pains and the call to the nurse, I completely lost it. I cried uncontrollably, and I am convinced it is because I was so tired from having not had quality sleep the last two nights. He told me that he would call my doctor personally to see if he could see me right away. Of course, I didn't want to bother the doctor, but Barry insisted. I think he wanted someone to assure me that I was just being emotional and that nothing was really wrong. I think I needed that assurance, too. We decided that I would go ahead to the doctor's office and Barry would go pick up Canon.

I started the drive toward the hospital and made it to Dr. Nicholl's office about 4:45. They immediately called me back for an ultrasound. Again, I began crying and felt the need to apologize profusely for my lack of self-control. The ultrasound nurse found nothing to worry about. Tera was kicking, and her heartbeat sounded great. She was transverse (turned sideways) in my belly. She also showed me a picture of my cervix, seemingly in perfect tact. No need to fear premature labor. This has got to be an infection.

I was then taken to an exam room so that Dr. Nicholls could evaluate me. When he came in, he said the same thing. My bloodwork was good but showed that I probably had a UTI, so the plan was to prescribe some meds to clear it up. Just before he left, he decided to check me, I think more to give me peace of mind than anything else. During his exam, his facial expression went from friendly smile to furrowed eyebrows. I could tell that he was worried. It was a long examination. I just watched him, not wanting to ask any questions or distract. After at least a minute (this usually takes seconds), he looked at his nurse and said, "I'm going to need you to bring me a wheelchair."

"Oh, no" was all I could manage. He explained that I was dilated "a lot" and that, while they would try to hold it off as long as possible, I would probably have a baby in the next twelve hours. I cried again at that point, more out of uncertainty and confusion than fear. Is she even a real baby yet? I kept reminding myself, "I just saw her on the ultrasound. She's fine. Even if she comes tonight, she's fine. I just saw her."

"How dilated am I?" A lot. "How big is she?" She's pretty small. Nothing specific. Nothing to cause me any additional stress. So I accepted his answers and prepared to be wheeled away. I called Barry to give him the news, and he, seeming as calm as I somehow felt, made plans to meet me at the hospital as soon as he could find someone to keep Canon.

It really is strange how calm and at peace I was about everything. I did plenty of crying, but I never worried that this was something I could not handle. I honestly felt guilty when the nurses in Labor and Delivery tried to show me sympathy. I felt like I was giving them this impression that I wasn't ok when, in fact, I was perfectly ok. Tired and a little surprised, but I was not afraid.

Dr. Nicholls was another story. I could tell he was more than stressed about the situation at hand, but I couldn't tell why and I didn't want to ask. On our "drive" to L & D I tried to crack jokes with him, asking him if there was a major sporting event on tonight that could occupy Barry's time while I delivered (refer to Canon's delivery story in March of 2009 to learn more about why this might have been funny on any other day but today). None that he knew of were on tonight. (I was only joking!). I asked him other questions, too, that I don't remember right now. He answered them all but used very broad terms, not wanting to commit to anything that he wasn't sure of.

Thankfully, he warned me that things would be moving pretty quickly when I got to my Delivery Room. He was right. There were nurses in and out, helping me into my gown, asking questions, sticking IVs in my arm, just doing what they needed to do. I needed steroids to try to boost Tera's lung development, so I got my first and only shot in the hip. I also had a magnesium drip and something else that I can't remember. Barry showed up sooner than I expected, and I was so grateful to see that he looked as calm as I felt. When I was dressed, hooked up, and basically ready for whatever was to come, we finally had a chance to talk. He seemed to feel exactly like me, that whatever happened tonight, we could handle it. There was no worry as to whether Tera would make it. The possibility of long-term damage to her development was our worst-case scenario, but we knew we could handle that as well. "We're going to be a different family now," were his exact words. So wise and comforting for his hormonal and emotional wife.

Barry took care of everything. I was not emotionally stable enough to talk to anyone about what was going on (my crying, though controlled, was a little unpredictable), so he called everyone to give them the news. When he called my parents' house and got my dad, he said, "Doc, D's having her baby tonight." "All right! Congratulations!" was his response before Barry kindly reminded him that it was February, not May.

For the next hour or so, Barry was in and out, checking on me and making sure that everyone who needed to know, knew. The only person I talked to was my sister. She was so upset, she told me, because she knew what it was like to be having a baby so quickly. Both of her girls came a few weeks early and were born very quickly. They also both spent several days in the NICU, so she had a glimpse of what was to come for me. She made plans to come to Dothan that night to be with me after the baby came.

After getting a second opinion on exactly how dilated I was - 8 cm. he finally confessed - Dr. Nicholls met with the on-call Ob/Gyn and another doctor from their practice to decide what to do. Because Tera was transverse (sideways) and the doctors were worried about what would happen if my water broke (her umbilical cord could come out before she did, apparently something we didn't want to happen) the decision was made to have a C-Section. Somehow, I was relieved. I knew I didn't have the energy to try to push a baby out tonight. When? Within the hour. We didn't have time to let the steroids take effect, so Tera's lungs were on their own. That worried me a bit but again, no fear. She would be jetted to the NICU at UAB soon after she was born. I knew I was really entering new territory now. The NICU babies are the ones you hear about, not the ones you live through yourself. I would figure that out later.

I was wheeled back to the OR to be prepped for my procedure. Dr. Nicholls told me later that there was actually another woman ready to go back when he called to say we needed it sooner. I felt so bad for her. She had to be so frustrated, having to prolong her wait to see her new baby. I would find out what that felt like later. I'm sure she cursed me for days to come, and I probably would have done the same if I were her and knew nothing about the Pushy Lady who elbowed me out of the OR.

In the OR, I was cared for by what Barry called the A-Team - the best doctors, nurses, aenesthesiologist, pediatricians, and anyone else that has anything to do with delivering babies. All but Dr. Nicholls just happened to be on-call that night (one of those obvious God Things), and Dr. Nicholls was not going anywhere. He wanted to see this through as much as Barry and me.

I remember getting sick soon after my spinal block was in, and I remember the pulling and tugging on my stomach while they cut me open and rearranged my insides. I also remember when they told me that Barry wouldn't be coming to the OR. I told him before I was wheeled over that he did not have to come if he felt like he couldn't handle it. He does not respond to this type of situation very well physically, and I really felt ok by myself for just that little bit. I think letting him off the hood was the only thing I could do to try to take care of him. He told me later that he stayed out just to keep things as calm as possible. Nothing like an administrator breathing down your neck while you deliver his premature daughter.

The Aenesthesiologist stayed at my head and walked me through everything that was happening. When they got ready to pull Tera out, he told me that she probably wouldn't cry but not to worry. It is normal for babies like her not to cry. Right after he said that, I heard it and saw him smile. She was crying! Her lungs work. (I would learn later that Tera breathed on her own with blow-by oxygen for about an hour before having to be intubated with a ventilator while still at Flowers.)

7:04 p.m. 2 pounds, 5 ounces and 15 1/2 inches long at 26 weeks 3 days gestation. Many told me later that this was a really good size for her prenatal development. Tera looked just like a full term baby, only really tiny. And not nearly as tiny as I was expecting. They cleaned her up, and I was shocked that they brought her to me. I thought they would surely rush her straight to the jet. I even got to kiss her cheek, though I mostly just got the oversized hat she was sporting. They took her to the nursery then, and I got put back together. Again, I tried joking with Dr. Nicholls and this time got more of his typical jovial response. I asked him if, in closing me up, he could please stitch my abdomen muscles into a six-pack. He said he was sorry but he could only get five! Still waiting to see those results . . .

Eventually they wheeled me to the nursery where I could see Tera. Shock again! This must be a good sign if she is still here. I knew she was still going to UAB, but if they're letting me see her, things must be better than expected. They wheeled me right up to her bed and even let me reach in to touch her.

She held my finger for probably a minute before I was wheeled to my post-partum room. Sickness again, I think, then time started moving more slowly. Barry again, was in and out, going to the nursery to check on Tera and getting in touch with everyone who needed to know that she was here. Though I know he was still at peace about what we could manage as a family, I could tell his worries were mounting. There were so many possible outcomes here, and he was only thinking of the worst possible ones. He wouldn't tell me about them that night though. Like everyone else, I think, he felt sympathy for me, and I felt guilty that everyone was protecting me.

My sister arrived in time to see the baby before she was air-lifted to UAB at 11:30 p.m. She stayed with me that night, and Barry went back home. Some might think this is strange or unusual, but it really is what was best for us.

Two nights ago, I was laying in bed wondering why I couldn't go to sleep, and now here I am with a baby born three months earlier than expected, but who is showing all signs of developing normally. Had I been well rested, I never would have cried so hysterically to Barry, who never would have called Dr. Nicholls, who never would have examined me, and who never would have made the decision to have a C-section so quickly. I would have stayed at home, my water would have broken that night, and Tera's chance at survival would have dropped tremendously. Ironically, I am writing this in the wee hours of the morning because I can't sleep. I wonder what God is working on now!

End of Day 1.

Sunday, February 20, 2011

This is Me at (Almost) Two Years Old

Recently, Canon has had overnight stays with both sets of grandparents. To prepare them for this adventure, Canon created a short instruction manual for how to best keep him happy while he was visiting. This is that instruction manual:

Bedtime
During the week, Mom tries to put me down anytime between 7:00 and 8:00, but this is mostly because I have to get up early the next day. On weekends, I'm usually up until after 9:00, but that's only because Mom and Dad think I will let them sleep later than usual. Sometimes I let them, but other times I'm up at 7:00! So basically, you can put me to bed anytime that is convenient for you, and I will wake up when it is convenient for me.

How I Get Ready for Bed
First, Mom lets me have a little bit of milk. Then we have to brush my teeth. I get to do it myself first. Then it's Mommy's Turn, and she finishes the job.
After brushing my teeth, I get to read some books. I usually read two or three before I read my big Elmo book so that I can say Night-Night to Elmo. Then it's lights out.
I like for Mom to rock me for a few minutes before she puts me in bed. While she rocks, I usually ask her to sing "He's Got the Whole World in His Hands." I hold my hands out and say "Whole? Whole?" or "Whole Wool" to let her know I'm ready to start it. We sing about everybody in the family: Canon and Tera; Mama and Daddy; Doc and MyGoo (Da Gjoo); Nonna and Poppa; Steiney, Jason, MeMe, and Ceil; Leslie, Grant, and Xan; Robert, Dauren, Graham, and Avett; Aunt Lydia; Trey, Michele, and Kaden. It can take awhile, especially if we add some of our friends to the list. If we have time, she'll also sing "Head and Shoulders, Knees and Toes." Then, after saying our prayers, I lay down for bed. I might cry for a minute or two, but I'm ok! Just getting used to the dark!
Eating
Mom is perfectly fine with me trying anything, but these are the things that I will usually eat with no big fuss: NutriGrain bars, pizza, chicken fingers, French Fries, grilled cheese, quesadilla, pb&j, bananas, oranges, grapes, strawberries, yogurt, and apple sauce. These are the things that I will eat sometimes, but there's no guarantee: green beans, mac & cheese, apples (with the skin cut off, please!), and rice.
If you can somehow talk my teacher, Ms. Cindy, into coming and staying with us, I'll eat anything!

Hobbies
I love my iXL and will play it for awhile, but I may ask for help on occasion. I wish I had a better way of asking, but it will usually come out as a grunt until you figure out what I want. I also like to color, read, and play with puzzles. Playing outside is my absolute favorite thing to do though! "Woo-y" is my favorite toy, so sometimes I'll carry him around just for fun. The Tupperware cabinet is still a fun place to play sometimes. If you need an extended break, you can put in any Toy Story movie, and I'll be good until it's over. I also like to watch Thomas the Train, though I get bored with it more easily than with Buzz and Woody.

Vocabulary
Right now, I am really trying hard to say lots of things, but I can tell that Mom and Dad don't understand a lot of it. Here are some translations that Mom has managed to make but that may not be obvious to outsiders.
What I Say / What it Means
Bucks / Truck
Hatch / Hat
Babby / Abby (purple Sesame Street character)
Zjoey / Zoe (orange Sesame Street character)
Da Gjoo / MyGoo
Boo Bar / Fruit Bar (refers to a Nutrigrain bar)
Shacks / Snack (usually refers to fruit snacks)
La Loo / I love you!
Ch-Ch-Ch-Ch / Refers to a toothbrush or brushing teeth
As for the rest, you'll just have to hope I'm in the near vicinity of what I want so that you can try to figure out what I'm saying. Like Daddy was at my age, I sometimes say what something sounds like instead of saying its name ("choo choo" instead of train), but I'm still learning. Geez! I'm only two!

Everything Else
I don't always remember to use my manners, so Mom and Dad are constantly reminding me to say "please" and "thank you." I'm also supposed to say "yes ma'am" and "yes sir" but that's a little harder to remember.
If I'm not getting what I want, I'll try to pitch a fit, but stay strong. I give in pretty quickly and will usually do what you want. You might either have to bribe me with something good (like Buzz or Woody) or threaten me with something bad (like Time Out or Night Night), but I'll usually give in. You'll definitely have to talk me down from my dramatic outbursts from time to time, but overall I'm a pretty cool kid. We're going to have a great time together!

Tuesday, February 15, 2011

Barry's Big Day

It's not easy being married to me. I know most people give Barry grief for being so strange and admire me for what I "put up with," but the truth is . . . we deserve each other. Knowing how much Barry hates surprises and knowing how much Barry dislikes attention, I allowed a big "to do" to be made of Barry's 30th birthday.
It all started about two weeks ago when we were at a hospital conference in Birmingham with some other members of the Executive team at Flowers. I reminded them that Barry's birthday was coming up and asked if they could come up with something. My thought was that they could probably get away with more than I could. I was right. They got away with it. I did not. 1st Cardinal Rule broken: Thou shalt not show Barry any attention on his birthday.
About a week after making this request, the CFO, Talana, called me up to tell me her big idea to surprise Barry on his birthday. 2nd Cardinal Rule broken: Thou shalt not surprise Barry.
The prank was too good, and I couldn't say no to it. Talana was prepared to dress up in Barry-ish clothes and burst into a meeting where she would proceed to yell at Barry for his descrimination against her . . . for being short. You should know here that Talana is shorter than I am, and Barry is always bringing it to her attention. My job was to take care of the food and be there at 9:00 a.m. I decided to bring Canon hoping that it might soften the blow of everything else that was going on. I don't think it worked.
Talana was awesome! No one recognized her - not even Barry. She banged on the Board Room door and interrupted a fake meeting to say "I'm lookin' for a Mr. Barry Moss" in the most thuggish voice she could muster. Even Canon was a little nervous. We waited outside while she walked into the meeting, but we could see the whole show from the doorway. Once Barry figured out what was going on, we made our way inside, and I set Canon down. He immediately laid down on the floor and wouldn't move until Barry picked him up.
What ended up being especially funny is that Talana actually looked exactly like another hospital employee. They even wore the same shirt that day!
Barry was a great sport through it all, but I got a good scolding later that night. I think he's really going to hate the Surprise Birthday Lunch Sam is planning for him in Birmingham this weekend.