In her shoes

My little girl is now walking. She took her first unassisted steps back in mid-December, 13 days before her first birthday.  Even though she took practice steps everyday, she spent most of her time clutching my finger and dragging me around, up and down the hallway, in circles around the living room, all while holding that death grip around my right index finger.

Today, for the first time, she let go of that finger and stoof on her own. After contemplating that for a while, she took some steps: cautiously at first, but solidly and well-balanced. She could turn herself around, she could get herself back up if she fell forward, and when she realized exactly what she was doing, she smiled the biggest grin and clapped her hands together.

So what did iBean do with this new found freedom?  The freedom to go wherever she wished without having some nagging parent attached to her?

She went for the shoes:

SHOES!! Which ones, which ones...

I think I'll take these white and pink ones to match my tights.

Just need to support myself on one leg here...

Ok, one foot in.  Now for foot #2

And pivot and balance and face the audience...

Ta-da!  I'm outta here!

And so it begins.

Never throw out a pot

My sister called me this morning, telling me that she nearly burned her house down.  She had put some steel-cut oats on to pre-boil last night, then went into her room and unintentionally fell asleep.  Her landlords came and woke her about 45 minutes later because they could smell smoke.  The oats were burned black to the bottom of the pot. "I'll have to throw that pot away," she told me.
"Nah.  It'll come out," I replied.

We had been living in Timmins for about five weeks when Sashimi was born. Timmins was about 3000km from home, and we knew no one.  I had met a few neighbours, and one was nice enough to take me out, show me around, and lend me some baby items, including a mini-electric breastpump. She had told me that she may ask for the pump back, should a friend of hers decide she wanted it, but that I was free to use it until then.That breastpump came in pretty handy when I was ridiculously loaded with boob-juice, and I had to sterilize it often.

One afternoon, while three-week-old Sashimi was sleeping, I placed the pump parts in boiling water on the stove.  It was supposed to boil for 20 minutes to sterilize.  I looked in the pot and thought to myself "There's lots of water, it won't boil dry.  I don't need to set the timer, I won't forget." Yes, these were my exact thoughts.  I have a super memory of this specific event.

I don't know WHAT I was doing in the computer room, since I was not on the facebook at that time, and I did not do the whole myspace thing.  Maybe I was using MSN messenger?  Who the hell knows.  What I was NOT doing, however, was paying attention to my boiling breastpump. Wait, my neighbour's boiling breastpump. 

All of a sudden, the smoke detector started to blare.  I looked into the hallway and it was thick with smoke.  I ran toward the source of the smoke because I was obviously thought I could extinguish a fire with my boob-juice.  I looked at the stove and there was a FIRE. A real flippin FIRE.  With flames.  They were orange and reaching out of the pot, taunting me.  I looked at my boobs and realized there was not enough milk in them to put that fire out, so I grabbed a towel, wrapped it around the pot handle, ran it to the sink and poured water into it.  It sizzled and steamed and stank.  Not like burned milk.  Like the Earth was dying...a slow death by breastpump melting.

I may have just about burned down our new house, but so help me GOD I was not going to let the baby wake up!  Friggin smoke detector, would you SHUT THE EFF UP?!  But, of course, like all good new homes have, the smoke detector was hardwired to the electrical system.  I couldn't just yank the batteries out, I had to find a stupid reset switch on it, but I was too short to reach the detector to look at it/club it with a baseball bat and we did not own a ladder.  At that point, I started feeling a little high from the fumes of incinerated plastic, and worried for my darling sleeping baby.  So, I ran into the room where he slept, wrapped him in thick blankets, and went outside.  There we waited, and waited, and waited, listening to the smoke alarm going off.  Various neighbours came by to make sure we were alright, and I just waved and smiled and said that  we were Fiiiiiiine, and that I just burned something and couldn't get the smoke detector to turn off.  No biggie.  Smile and wave, people.  Smile and wave.

Finally, our nextdoor neighbour (who shared our driveway) came home from work and used his ladder to reach the detector reset switch and turned it off. 

Ok.  So at this point, Sashimi was still sleeping in the thousand blankets I had wrapped him in, and the fumes in the house were probably toxic or something.  Not Britney toxic, just enough that I thought my brain cells were slowly amassing a collection of yellow "For Dummies" manuals. It was too cold outside, though, to stay there much longer.  I opened all the windows in the house and retreated to the basement, where the smell was not as bad.  There we stayed until Tony came home.  I may have called him to tell him about burning something or other.  I can't remember.  What I DO remember, though, is the insane mess of ashes and soot spread throughout our house.  Our vent about the stove was ruined, our cupboards were coated with ashes, the entire front end of the house had to be completely cleaned - a good four-hour job that evening.  It is amazing how much mess a breastpump can make when lit on fire for a prolonged period of time. I also remember Tony forbidding me to EVER use the stove when he was not home.   We ate a lot of sandwiches that month.
And then I remember realizing that I had just melted my neighbour's breastpump into nothingness.  A neighbour I hardly knew.  As much as I like to return things to people, I did not think the crust on the bottom of my pot would suck the milk out of any breast.  So I sucked it up and bought a brand new pump, exactly like the one I had melted, and kept it in mint condition, just to give back to my neighbour.  If she ever asked for it back.

Which she did not.  And I ended up selling it on kijiji about a year ago for $25.


And that breastpump-lending neighbour became one of my best friends in the world.  Although she may rethink that when she reads this post.

The moral of the story: After four months of scraping and soaking, that pot came clean.  A little bronzed, but clean.  And it is the perfect sized pot for one box of Kraft Dinner.  So never throw out a pot, no matter what you burned in it.

18 days

18 days can change your world.

Day 1: Ivy was born at 32 weeks 5 days gestation, weighing 3 lbs 9 oz. She spent the first 2 hours of her life intubated, then simply on room air.
Day 4 & 5: Ivy spent most of her time in phototherapy to keep her bilirubin levels down.
Day 5: Ivy nursed for the first time.
Day 6: her IV was removed as she had been taking her NG feeds so well that she did not require TPN (the mixture of lipids and proteins that preemies get via IV) anymore.
Day 8: she was prepared for transfer to a different hospital since she was doing so well. On day 9 we flew in an airplane, her in her isolette, to a NICU closer to home.
Day 15, her NG tube was removed as she was nursing full feeds at every feed.
Day 17 she failed her carseat test. That was the only fail Ivy had in the NICU.
Day 18, she passed her carseat test and she was discharged, weighing 4 lbs 0.5 ounces and only 35 weeks 2 days gestation.

I have a friend that I have never met in real life. She started commenting on my blog about three years ago, and I started reading her blog. We started writing back and forth and we are facebook friends.
I knew how much she and her husband wanted a baby. They struggled with infertility for a couple of years until she finally was able to get pregnant. Her writing exuded her elation over the pregnancy and she was counting down the weeks until she would be a mother.
Suddenly, at 30 and a half weeks, she went into labour and delivered a beautiful baby girl, Rory Rose, in an ambulance en route to the hospital. Miraculously, the baby not only survived, but was thriving. Having had a preemie myself, I was so excited to be able to share that experience with someone. I gave her tips that worked for me, and offered to send her copies of my preemie books (as I was no longer using them). She posted photos of the two of them doing kangaroo care, and of her reading a book to her while they bonded skin-to-skin. After seven days of bliss, Rory became seriously ill with what the doctors said was necrotizing enterocolitis.
Day 9: Rory crashed twice, requiring CPR both times to be revived.
Day 10: Rory seemed to settle into a groove of stability. Her bowels were still questionable, but she was stable. The doctors advised that they would do surgery when she was strong enough to be transported to another hospital and handle the surgery.
Day 12: Rory was improving and surprising doctors left, right and center.
Day 13: The doctors noticed that Rory had suffered a brain bleed and that there could be brain damage.
Day 15: Rory’s brain bleed was very severe and half of her brain was dead. It was also swelling and putting pressure on the other side of her brain. There was nothing the doctors could do for her other than manage her pain. She opened her eyes and looked at her mommy and daddy for about 15 minutes that evening.
On day 18, Rory went to be with Jesus.

I cannot help but look at my Ivy and feel both blessed and guilty. Ivy had such an easy NICU experience that I took for granted. I never once thought that anything bad would happen. I did not know that NEC is not uncommon among preemies. I knew that preemies were more susceptible to brain bleeds, but I never even contemplated the idea that it was even a risk for Ivy. I guess with all the trouble I was having with my own health, I just assumed that Ivy would be fine no matter what, and I was determined to get her out of the NICU and home as fast as we could.

In 18 days, your world can change.
I wish that every preemie baby could go home with their mommy and daddy in 18 days. I wish that Katie could have held her sweet baby girl without all the tubes and alarms and nursed her to chubbiness. I wish she could still be reading her stories while she made sweet sleepy sounds on her chest. I wish that she would have been able to arrange all her clothes in her closet by age and by colour. I wish that she would have been able to try on her cow-print cloth diapers on her and squeal with delight when she saw how cute they were and how big they would make her bum look.

I wish she would not be going home to a baby’s room filled with hopes and dreams that will never be fulfilled.

I’m so sorry.

Wordless Weds: Lady Chubbington

[caption id="attachment_687" align="aligncenter" width="584" caption="Mommy doesn't feed me fast enough. I do it myself."][/caption]

Home Sweet Home

After 18 days in the NICU, Ivy was finally discharged on January 21. She had originally taken her carseat test on the 19th, but to our dismay, she did not pass. Part of that was because the carseat we had, although it is an infant carrier, does not have adjustments small enough for a 4 lb baby. She was swimming in it!
So Tony and I decided to go out and buy a new carseat, and to our great elation, she passed her second carseat test with flying colours. I called Tony at work and told him the good news, and he jumped into his car and drove to Grande Prairie to pick us up. We would surprise the boys when we got home.
The trip home was a bit of a muck up, not because of Ivy, but the roads were altogether NOT cooperative. Ivy slept the whole way, only starting to root around when we were about 10 minutes from home.
We walked in the door and Sacha and Kees were ecstatic! Kees ran around, dancing, wanting to show me Ivy's room all set up. He wanted to show me all of the trains (Thomas trains) that a friend of Sacha's had passed down to him. Sacha kept hugging me and telling me how much he loved me and how glad he was that we were home. It was one of the most amazing feelings I have ever felt, finally being reunited as a family.
Ivy had a good first night at home. She wakes up about every 3-4 hours to eat, then falls quickly back to sleep. Preemies need a lot of sleep for their development, and she seems to know that. She also seems to know how to let off some good burps and poops to make room for all the milk she consumes!

I will post more details in the next few days. Thank you all for your prayers and concern in this time.

The Milk Machine Returns

So after yesterday's bump in the road with nursing, Ivy has made a full comeback. Immediately after I posted on here, her feeding went back to normal. In fact, this morning has been exceedingly good. In the last 3 feeds, she has taken in 50 mL, 45 mL and 30 mL. Oh, and did I mention that she is waking herself for her feeda and not even waiting the "prescribed" 3 hours between feeds, only waiting 2 hours between these good meals!
Ivy also gained another ounce yesterday, putting her at 3 lbs 15 oz. I think the nurses were being overly cautious yesterday, which is their job, I guess. But I am just going to leave that NG tube in for now! Don't want to jinx ourselves! And we just learned that Ivy has graduated to the next level of breastfeeding supremacy. She is doing so well that she doesn't need to be pre- and post-feed weighed any more! Yay! Crossing our fingers for a weekend discharge.

Stellar...whoops!

Little Miss Ivy has become a stellar nurser. Unfortunately, she and I may have gotten a little ahead of ourselves. After over 24 hours of exclusively breastfeeding with no gavage feeds, Ivy pulled out her own NG tube. Since she had been nursing so well, the nurses did not put one back in. Then at her next feed, she decided that she only wanted a little milk, after which she pursed her little lips together and did not want anymore! Well, in a NICU, people get panicky when a preemie baby decides not to eat as much as the doctor says she should, so in went a new NG tube. Ivy was livid, so much so that when I tried to nurse her at her next feed, she started to drink a bit and then she came off and screamed. That was the first time for that sort of reaction. I am pretty sure the NG tube was bothering her, which is not good. But as she was not wanting to nurse, the nurses got some of my pumped milk and gave her a gavage feed. It was discouraging
after such a great day and 2 nights of feeds.

Jersey Girl

Ivy is nearly 2 weeks old now. She is 3 lbs 14 oz and in the last 12 hours has really shown that she is a superstar nurser: she breastfed full feeds 4 times of the last 5, taking in even more than what the dr considers for her to be a "full feed." This improvement means she is one step closer to getting her NG tube removed. Usually oncer the tube is out, you are looking at a carseat test within 24 to 48 hours and then, if all goes well, discharge! Ivy is not on any medications, her vitals have been stable since she was extubated shortly after birth, and she is gaining weight each day. She was moved out of her incubator and into a big-girl bed (ha!) 2 days ago, since she is now able to regulate her own body temperature. I am hopeful that we can go home in a week or so.
On a crappier note, my camera and 2 lenses were stolen from my hospital room when I was upstairs with Ivy on Thursday. The camera had all the newborn pics and videos of Ivy. What a horrible thing for ssomeone to do!

Settling in

We are now settled in at the QE II hospital in GP. Ivy continues to gain weight and exceed the nurses' expectations, particularly when it comes to feeding. Ivy nurses on alternate feeds, getting every other feed from her NG tube. When she does nurse. She usually takes in 10mL from me, and then they top her up with the remaining 20 mL through her tube. I was a little discouraged that she only takes 10 mL until the nurse told me that for her gestational age, she would really only expecct her to nurse once for every 2-3 gavage (ng tube) feeds, and the fact that she takes in 10 mL each time is even better. So that reassured me quite a bit.
I am being fed hospital food for free while I am here in a boarding room. It is a new thing they are trying out for mothers who are nursing their babies in the NICU. It may not be great food, but I don't have to cook!

Waiting

We are still waiting for a plane, so I am going to go rest at Talia's until we get the call. Ivy is being transfered because the NICU here is full and she is a good candidate for transfer because she is doing so well.
She gained weight again today: she is now 3 lbs 11 oz. She is also starting to regulate her body temperature better, which is one step closer to being out of the incubator (isolette). Yea!

Transfered

I was discharged today and Ivy is being transfered to the QE II hospital in Grande Prairie. The staff had previously told me that she would NOT be transfered, but this morning, the doctor told me that they were going to transfer her to the Grey Nuns Hospital in Edmonton. I then said if they were going to transfer her at ALL, could it be GP, simply because then Tony and the boys could come and see us on his days off.
So as it stands right now, we are waiting for an airplane to take us to GP.

General NICU FAQ

I have had a few people ask questions about our stay at the Royal Alexandra Hospital, so I thought I would address those here:

Although Ivy is under 24-hour care, I am allowed to visit her and be with her whenever I like and as often as I like. I spent 3 hours cuddling with her and doing Kangaroo care this morning (and nursing), then I was back there two more times, both in time for her feeds.

I am still an inpatient at the hospital because of my blood pressure, but I am hoping to be discharged tomorrow. My blood pressure is more stable now, although I am still on 2 different medications for that. At its peak, I was on a total of 17 blood pressure pills per day. That's right, 17. 3 different prescriptions, but the total number of pills was 17. Now I am down to 11. The doctors are trying to rework my medication to put me on a dosing and scheduling that will be more manageable once I am discharged. To be honest, there is one medication that I really do not think I need in the dose they are giving me, but we shall see what they decide tomorrow.

Once I am discharged, I will be staying in a boarding room at the hospital. There are 14 boarding rooms specifically for moms who have babies in the NICU who are from out of town and/or who are nursing. My name was already put on the list for a room upon discharge. While I stay there, I am responsible for my own meals and such. I am hoping they have a little fridge so I can get groceries, because I do not want to eat out 3 meals a day for the next 2 weeks, or however long Ivy needs to be here.

While in the boarding room, the NICU will call me whenever Ivy needs (wants) to eat, and I make my way to the NICU to feed her. They said if I want to, I can give them permission to take a bottle at night so I can sleep. I am not keen on that, since the goal is to get her exclusively nursing and I think a bottle will mess that up.

The criteria for Ivy's discharge are these: she must be taking all her feeds orally, either by breast of bottle, she must be gaining weight, she must have no "events" in 24 hours, and she has to pass the carseat test. Events mean instances of bradycardia and/or apnea. Ivy has had only 2 of these since being admitted on Monday, both of which she spontaneously recovered and no interventions were necessary. The carseat test is that she has to be able to sit in a carseat for 90 minutes without having any apneas or losing oxygen saturation in her blood.

So far, Ivy's nursing is going well. She gets better every time. In fact, the last time I nursed her, I thought she was finished, and when I took the breast away, she got mad and had her mouth wide open looking for it!

Ivy is going to have a bath tonight. That should be fun!

Sarah

Feisty

There are two things that the nurses all say about Ivy: that she has gorgeous blond hair, and that she is feisty! She protests when the nurses start poking and proding, usually by swatting her arm at them and yelling. That being said, she really does not cry that much.
She had another great day today: she nursed 3 times, the evening feed being the most successful. She gets right down to business and does not muck around. Gulp gulp gulp! At the evening feed, she was wide awake, and took in about 15 mL from me, which I determined by pumping right after and I had about half an ounce less than I usually get. Pretty good for a few minutes of work!
Ivy is almost at full feeds, and once she is at full feeds, her IV can come out. I am ridiculously happy about that, because they have had to redo her IV 3 times since birth because her veins give out. And each time they have to redo it, it takes the nurses (and doctor) multiple attempts. She has very dainty veins, even for a preemie and they have difficulty threading the IV. I have the same problem whenever I get IVs put in, too.
Ivy is also back up to her birth weight now. She did not poop today, though, so her weighing may be a little off from that. All in all, her weight is on the upswing, which is exactly what we want.
She is also out of the phototherapy lights, although she may have to go back under tomorrow depending on her bloodwork. She really does not like those lights and was so glad to be rid of them.

Great Success!

Yippee! Ivy gained 20 grams today!
AND the best news was that I got to nurse my daughter for the first time. And she actually nursed. Of course, all that work tired her out very quickly, but she had some good audible swallowing happening, and I could hear her breathing between big gulps. Afterward, we just cuddled int he chair, skin-to-skin, for about an hour. She was so relaxed, I hated to put her back in her isolette. But I have to get back to my room to get my blood pressure meds and check my blood pressure. And Ivy needed to go back under the lights (for jaundice). It will be nice when I am not on a nurse's schedule for meds and assessment and I can stay with her as long as I like.

Yummy in her Tummy

Tony and the boys had to head back to Peace River today. Before he left, I made sure that Tony had some one-on-one time with his little girl. He did kangaroo care with her. He said she was fussing on his chest and rooting around, trying to find his boobs! Since she was getting a feed of milk through her NG tube, they put a little milk on her soother and put it in her mouth and she LOVED it. She was satisfied with that and settled onto his chest. That excites me a lot, because now she will know that mommy's milk is good for her AND yummy. I get to try nursing tonight for the first time. She is doing really well with her increased feeds through her tube, and is getting 16 mL (a little over half an ounce) ever 3 hours. So much more than the 3mL per feeding they started with on Tuesday! They are increasing her feeds by 2mL every 6 hours now, so it will not take long for her to start gaining weight.

I also changed her diaper for the first time yesterday. That is tricky with all those leads and wires and cords! And then, just like any baby, as soon as I changed her, they took off her diaper to weigh her, she peed all over the nurse, and they had to change her again.

My blood pressure has been more stable today and in more of a normal range (130s/90s at the highest, 119/76 at the lowest) so I was taken off of one of my meds. Yippee! I was also moved to a private room for medical reasons (reduce stress while I try to get my blood pressure under control) and will be here until at least Monday as an inpatient. And best of all, my IV was removed today! No more pushing that darn thing around when I want to see Ivy, and now when I hold her, I only have her cords to contend with and not my own.
Praying for a good weekend (blood pressure-wise) and safe travels for Tony, the boys, and his mom (who will be helping him out in Peace River for the week).

Ivy the Kangaroo

I just had my first session of Kangaroo care with Ivy - skin-to-skin contact with her. She settled right onto my chest and relaxed into an amazing sleep. And how great does that feel for Mommy?! Only 3 days ago she was in my tummy, hearing my heartbeat all day, and she has been without that familiar sound for 3 days. Now, against my chest, it was all familiar to her and she loved it.
I am going to get Tony to do it tomorrow before he leaves. We used to do lots of skin-to-skin with Sacha, since that was the only way he would sleep at night. It will be a great way for Tony and Ivy to bond before he has to go back to Peace River with the boys.

Optimism from sad places

One of our biggest dreads when we found out that we had miscarried our twins was telling Sacha.  Sacha was so very excited about having a new baby in the house, he just couldn't wait to see a picture of the baby, just like the pictures from his ultrasound, which he has seen and loves to look at.

Of course, there would be no picture from this ultrasound. There was nothing to celebrate, not a moment that I wanted to capture in print for the rest of my life.

When we returned home, Tony broke the news to Sacha.  We decided not to tell him that we had lost twins, as this would have confused him and caused questions we didn't really want to answer at this point.  When Tony told him that the baby in my tummy had died, Sacha firmly placed his hands on his hips and demanded an answer: "WHY?" he exclaimed.  Tony told him that these things sometimes happen, and that we were very sad about it. Sacha's response:

"Well, looks like we're just gonna have to get another baby!"

When Tony started giggling and crying at the same time, Sacha just looked at him, placed his hand on his shoulder and said "Don't worry, Daddy.  It gonna work out better next time."

And how can one argue with that?

Sorry Times 2

My first prenatal visit for this pregnancy was today.  I was excited to hear the heartbeat and find out how much weight I have gained.  Well, not so much about that, but wanting to know how bad it was (9 lbs in the first trimester).  Sacha wanted to come so that he could hear the heartbeat, although he was convinced he was going to get to see a picture.

So Tony and him waited in anticipation as the doctor tried to find the heartbeat.  Waited, and waited, and waited.

The doctor could not find a heartbeat, so they sent me to have an ultrasound.  I could tell by the visuals on the screen that there was no heartbeat.  That we had lost this baby.  My doctor then came to talk to Tony and I directly and told us that there was no heartbeat, and that it had been twins.  The twins had died at 8 weeks, and I am sitting here at 11 weeks 5 days.  He was very compassionate, describing what we needed to do next, since my body was obviously not going to miscarry on its own.  All the while, I feel numb.  And horribly guilty.

Guilty for saying that I didn't want twins, that I was terrified of having twins, that it would be bad.  As though I somehow caused this to happen.  I keep trying to tell myself that this is not my fault, but I can't help feeling guilty over it.

I am sorry I said I didn't want you.  I did.  I do.  And now I will never know you.

I am so sorry.

Nostalgia

I set a little naked-bumed Kees up in his crib, sitting amidst a pile of pillows, and let him play with his crib aquarium. I then sat on the nursing chair, and watched the back of his head as he grabbed the toys, kissed the fish, and toddled from side to side, each time regaining his balance and squaring himself off to a proper sitting position. I watched him in silence until he turned around, remembered that I was there, and flashed me an ecstatic toothed grin. He turned around and resumed playing. And I resumed my motherly vigil.

I was not nostalgic when Sacha grew from an infant to a baby, from a toddler and into an opinionated two-year old. I remember being so anxious for him to be old enough to eat solids, big enough to sit on his own, and old enough to talk. Old enough to go to a sitter without screaming for his maman.

A second time mother is more educated in that respect.

Kees is already 6 months, and I miss him as a new-born infant. My sweet suckler who slept all the time, with his melodious hums and ahs as he sang himself to sleep.

Now, he has two teeth, and bites my shoulder when he gets excited. He rubs those little chewing implements on my breast when he nurses, testing out his new eating tools. He tackles his older brother, pulling his hair, kissing (or tasting, I'm not sure) his ears. He giggles at fart noises (his brother's) and pulls the cat's tail. He loves to read, especially "Where is Baby's Belly Button?" with the large flaps to pull on and flip over time and again. At the end of the day, he nuzzles his head onto my shoulder when he's tired, and calmly lets himself drift to dreamland.

I relish every minute of these sweet 6 month moments, because I know that soon enough, he, too, will be a terrible two, shaking his head "no" when I ask him to pick up his toys or stop dumping his crackers on the floor. He, too, may scream and throw a fit when I tell him that he cannot have anymore advent calendar chocolates. There are beautiful moments in Two-land, but I can wait.

I love my sweet Kees. Just as he is. Right now.

Kees and the No-Hawk

After receiving many questions and comments (mostly from relatives or close friends) about Kees's new do, and getting tired of hearing myself tell the story over and over, regardless of how humorous they thought it was, I decided to buzz it.



Sarah: 1

Faux-hawk: 0

Any questions?