Two layers of disolvable stitches and then this "glue" layer on the top -- but not even one bit of bandage. Isaac took a two hour nap when he got home but now he is up and at 'em like this is just a regular ol' day! Thatta boy!
Thursday, February 19, 2009
All sewed up
Two layers of disolvable stitches and then this "glue" layer on the top -- but not even one bit of bandage. Isaac took a two hour nap when he got home but now he is up and at 'em like this is just a regular ol' day! Thatta boy!
Easy Smeesy
We are home. Actually, we've been home for almost an hour. What a wonderful, peaceful, perfect morning.
Isaac is now in his crib taking a post-surgery snooze. He was definitely the most popular patient on the surgery floor that this morning -- giving out lots of smiles and babbles and happiness out to anyone who stopped by to see him. We stayed with him from 6:00 until about 7:15 at which point they took him back to get things started. I thought I would be emotional watching him walk away, but I really felt at peace and didn't even cry a little bit.
By 8:00am, Dr. D. was in the waiting room telling us how wonderfully everything went. Apparently the cartilage did go down into his head in two long roots. He said this cartilage would have continued to grow until Isaac was a young adult so removing it was definitely something we needed to have done.
We were then brought back to the recovery area where one of the nurses was rocking our little guy as he woke up. He saw the bottle I had and grabbed for that immediately, and I was able to sit in the rocker and feed him until he decided he would rather be sitting with Daddy on the bed. Daddy and Isaac rode the bed back to the discharge area where a few signatures (and our first Popsicle!) later, and we were on our way back home.
Speaking of home, Joan held down the fort without a problem. Elijah took the bottle like a champ and was just getting ready to eat again when we got home. Scrubs was equally well-behaved. He's been a little frisky the last few days with all the visitors and babies everywhere.
It is now nearly 10am. JB is at the grocery store, Joan is walking Scrubs, and I am in charge of the two sleeping babes until one of them gets home. They each have a cell phone on them in case Isaac wakes up before one of them get back. Since I can't lift Isaac, I'm still dependent on help to get him out of his crib.
Thank you to everyone who prayed for our little man this morning. Everything went incredibly smooth, and I know God was present in every facet of our day. I was so blessed to be able to be there and not be worrying about Elijah at the same time.
I'll close with a video from last night. Elijah's belly button stump fell off so it was time for our first bath. I think this video pretty adequately illustrates the energy level in our house as of late:
Isaac is now in his crib taking a post-surgery snooze. He was definitely the most popular patient on the surgery floor that this morning -- giving out lots of smiles and babbles and happiness out to anyone who stopped by to see him. We stayed with him from 6:00 until about 7:15 at which point they took him back to get things started. I thought I would be emotional watching him walk away, but I really felt at peace and didn't even cry a little bit.
By 8:00am, Dr. D. was in the waiting room telling us how wonderfully everything went. Apparently the cartilage did go down into his head in two long roots. He said this cartilage would have continued to grow until Isaac was a young adult so removing it was definitely something we needed to have done.
We were then brought back to the recovery area where one of the nurses was rocking our little guy as he woke up. He saw the bottle I had and grabbed for that immediately, and I was able to sit in the rocker and feed him until he decided he would rather be sitting with Daddy on the bed. Daddy and Isaac rode the bed back to the discharge area where a few signatures (and our first Popsicle!) later, and we were on our way back home.
Speaking of home, Joan held down the fort without a problem. Elijah took the bottle like a champ and was just getting ready to eat again when we got home. Scrubs was equally well-behaved. He's been a little frisky the last few days with all the visitors and babies everywhere.
It is now nearly 10am. JB is at the grocery store, Joan is walking Scrubs, and I am in charge of the two sleeping babes until one of them gets home. They each have a cell phone on them in case Isaac wakes up before one of them get back. Since I can't lift Isaac, I'm still dependent on help to get him out of his crib.
Thank you to everyone who prayed for our little man this morning. Everything went incredibly smooth, and I know God was present in every facet of our day. I was so blessed to be able to be there and not be worrying about Elijah at the same time.
I'll close with a video from last night. Elijah's belly button stump fell off so it was time for our first bath. I think this video pretty adequately illustrates the energy level in our house as of late:
Headed up
Well JB, Isaac, and I are headed up to the hospital. I decided to see what kind of night Elijah had before decing whether to go. Praise the Lord it was his best night ever. He went to bed at 9pm (as did I) and got up to eat around 1:30am before easily returning to slumber. It is now 5:30am, and I roused him to eat as we are going to leave in a few minutes. Joan is going to stay here with Elijah. We've never given him a bottle before so she is going to try that with a pumping I did a few days ago. If he won't take the bottle, she'll bring him up to the hospital for me to feed him in a few hours.
Please pray for Isaac and his surgeon Dr. D. The surgery should start around 7am CST and last less than an hour. I'll post with great news when we are home.
Please pray for Isaac and his surgeon Dr. D. The surgery should start around 7am CST and last less than an hour. I'll post with great news when we are home.
Wednesday, February 18, 2009
Doctor Day
I told you Joan was a picture-fiend! Here are some photos from our busy day.
Waiting in the room for Dr. D.
Talking to the nurse.
Isaac and Scrubs trying to get past the instituted barricade.
Passing the time in the waiting room before our 9am appointment.
Eating Daddy's hat.
More eating of Daddy's hat.
Waiting in the room for Dr. D. 
Talking to the nurse. 
At home after our appointment.
Practicing eating little snacks after our appointment. If you click on this picture, you can get a close-up of the skin tag they are going to remove.
Well, everything is set for Isaac's surgery tomorrow. He will be the first case of the morning. This was a relief to me since he is not allowed to eat or drink after midnight tonight and waiting for a mid-day procedure would be pretty torturous. The surgery itself should only last about 45 minutes, and he should be home before lunchtime.
One thing we are wrestling with is whether I should go with to the hospital for the surgery. This morning, we ventured to the hospital with everyone, and it was a bit stressful. Elijah needed to eat and was crying, and we had our huge hoss of a double stroller to get in and out of all the rooms. Even with Joan there to help, I felt a little overwhelmed. I know this was partly due to a shortage of sleep, but we still aren't sure that everyone going tomorrow is best.
As much as I want to be there tomorrow morning, I am wondering if my emotional basket-case-ness and the added stress of a two week old baby that has to go everywhere that I go would be better off at home while Daddy headed up to the hospital and worked out the details. We are still thinking about what we are going to do. I want to be there soooooo bad but am wondering if it will just be more work than it is worth and less peaceful for Isaac. Right now we are leaning toward me staying home, but we'll make a game-time decision.
If you could be praying for our little boy (and his Daddy and Mommy as well) throughout the evening tonight and into tomorrow, we would greatly appreciate it. Isaac will have to be completely sedated for the procedure, and they will be going to the root of the tag to get all of the cartilage that is there. Apparently cartilage is not a safe thing to leave behind as it can "have a mind of its own" as Isaac grows up, getting tangled with facial nerves or causing malformations. We know that this is a procedure he needs to have done -- not only for cosmetic reasons but for safety reasons as well. But it doesn't make us feel less nervous. We are hoping they will be able to do the procedure without intubating him (putting a tube down his throat) but that will be up to the anesthesiologist.
Thanks everyone for your prayers. We greatly appreciate it.
Pre-surgery appointment
Quick note: Joan is in safe and sound. Mom and Dad. K. are back in Ft. Lauderdale. We are preparing to head to the hospital to meet with the surgeon. Isaac is having surgery on his ear tomorrow. This appointment and his surgery totally creeped up on me with everything else going on. I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing. Not only did baby keep me up a bit last night but so did thinking about Isaac having surgery. I'll udpate after our appointment this morning, but please be praying for our little boy as we prepare for tomorrow.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
Pick o' the day
Hey everybody! My friend Becky let me know that my blog post on "Adoption & Biological" was featured on another website entitled Lost and Found. I'm not exactly sure how this works, but you can help vote for this story's popularity. Simply click here to see where she references my story (scroll down to the first bullet under "Miscellaneous News"). I have no idea how she got to my blog or the story or what, but I thought it was pretty cool.
To help increase my story's popularity, you just need to vote for it. Visit this link and click on the title "Adoption & Biological". Thanks everyone! And thanks Becky for letting me know about this. Way cool!
To help increase my story's popularity, you just need to vote for it. Visit this link and click on the title "Adoption & Biological". Thanks everyone! And thanks Becky for letting me know about this. Way cool!
Good friends
Little siblings
Big brothers I stole these photos from Joia's blog. I did take a few pics with my camera, but it is a lot easier to just post these instead of getting the pics downloaded from my camera. The easy way is my favorite way right now!
Anyways, Philip and Joia stopped by for a visit yesterday with their two cuties: Keenan & Moriah. We are so blessed by all the great friends and family who have loved, supported, encouraged, and helped us during the last two and a half weeks. Matt, Tiff & William came by on Sunday evening. We also had a meal provided by people from our awesome church, every other night during the last two weeks bringing a lot of visitors as well. My MOPS group will be providing meals Monday, Wednesday, and Friday during the next two weeks also. What a blessing!
I managed a lunch out with JB, his parents, and our two boys yesterday. We wanted to eat at Beachwalk, my favorite restaurant, only to discover that it is gone!! Ugh! So we ended up doing the Bluepointe Fishclub instead. It was a nice afternoon, but it wiped me out. Isaac is now eating little pieces of our meals which is way fun.
Sidenote: Why of why is Scrubs obsessed with pacifiers? Between him and Isaac, poor Elijah will never get to use the thing,
Today, Bobbie is going to be hanging out with me after Dad & Mom K. leave and until Joan gets in. How awesome is that? I think I adequately prepared Joanie for the craziness that she is about to step into! Well I hope I did. ;) Joan is a picture-taking machine so I'm sure you'll get lots of visuals during the next week.
Monday, February 16, 2009
Another little bump
For the past few days, I have been feeling a little feverish. We have attributed it to hormones or the weight I have lost, but each time I took my temperature, it was a bit higher. I'd wake up in the middle of the night sweating or I'd need a sweatshirt in the middle of the day. Last night the chills got especially pronounced and when I took my temp it was close to 100. In addition, I just felt really crummy, like I had the early stages of the flu or something. I didn't think that 100 seemed too high but JB was concerned that the Tylenol and Motrin I had been taking were keeping it lower than it actually was.
We called Dr. G. and she was concerned too. Concerned enough that she wanted me to meet her at the Emergency Room. Back to the hospital again! Unfortunately, they had to catheterize me, again, to rule out a urinary tract infection. Lovely. Apparently a urine sample on a post-delivery gal (or a post-pushed-a-long-time gal) often comes back inconclusive so a cath is the only way to go.
In the end though, no UTI. However, I do have the beginnings of mastitis an infection of the breast in newly delivered breast feeding moms. Mine is on the left side. I didn't have any of the redness yet but the tenderness was there. Apparently the main symptoms are redness, tenderness, and flu-like symptoms. If mastitis gets bad it can leave you feeling really crummy -- a lot crummier than I currently was.
The good news is that I have already started on an antibiotic which should help this clear up quickly. Both JB and Dr. G agreed that they were glad we caught this so early. If something could go wrong with my delivery story, it, unfortunately, has, and no one, including myself, wants to see me down and out with the equivalent of the flu after all that.
If you don't mind praying that this infection gets itself under control, I'd be incredibly grateful. I am feeling so much better every day and just want to continue on this upward trend!
We called Dr. G. and she was concerned too. Concerned enough that she wanted me to meet her at the Emergency Room. Back to the hospital again! Unfortunately, they had to catheterize me, again, to rule out a urinary tract infection. Lovely. Apparently a urine sample on a post-delivery gal (or a post-pushed-a-long-time gal) often comes back inconclusive so a cath is the only way to go.
In the end though, no UTI. However, I do have the beginnings of mastitis an infection of the breast in newly delivered breast feeding moms. Mine is on the left side. I didn't have any of the redness yet but the tenderness was there. Apparently the main symptoms are redness, tenderness, and flu-like symptoms. If mastitis gets bad it can leave you feeling really crummy -- a lot crummier than I currently was.
The good news is that I have already started on an antibiotic which should help this clear up quickly. Both JB and Dr. G agreed that they were glad we caught this so early. If something could go wrong with my delivery story, it, unfortunately, has, and no one, including myself, wants to see me down and out with the equivalent of the flu after all that.
If you don't mind praying that this infection gets itself under control, I'd be incredibly grateful. I am feeling so much better every day and just want to continue on this upward trend!
Sunday, February 15, 2009
Adoption & Biological
I did have some questions before Elijah was born. I did do some wondering.
My questions ran the gamut.
Some days I wondered if I could ever love a child as much as I loved Isaac. Some days I wondered if the fact that Elijah would come from my body would cause me to have stronger feelings about him than I did about Isaac. Would breastfeeding cause me to bond faster with Elijah? Would recovery mean that my early days with Isaac were better than those with Elijah? If I parented a child that looked like me would I find a stronger connection?
Yesterday, Elijah began his third week in this world. I'm sure that in the coming weeks, months, and years, I will become much more wise regarding the questions posed above. But today, after now having two boys, one adopted and one biological, I feel that I am able to answer a few of my own questions and most likely, the questions of others as well.
I write this post for any of you out there contemplating adoption. Maybe you are contemplating because you cannot have your own children as JB and I did. Maybe you are contemplating because you feel your own biological family is complete and you'd like to add to it. Whatever the reason, if you have contemplated adoption, you have probably asked yourself one of the questions I have asked myself at the start of this post. And it wasn't just me asking them. JB asked the same things.
As a reminder, adoption is not something to push on anyone. It is especially not something you should bring up to someone who is dealing with infertility unless they bring it up first. It is a very personal decision. It is filled with emotional, mental, and financial implications of immense proportions. It cannot be used as a band aid. It does not fix the sadness of an infertile heart.
After our second failed IVF, I requested an adoption packet from both America World and from Bethany Christian Services. America World is the agency we ended up using for our China adoption. Bethany was the agency I fell in love with and hoped to use had we decided to adopt domestically.
Those packets came in the mail, and as I sat in my bedroom in Minnesota and opened each of them, I began to sob. JB found me sitting on the floor between the bed and our window, tears streaming down my face. I knew I wanted to adopt, but my heart was broken for the biological children we would never meet. My husband took the packets and said he was putting them aside for at least twelve more months. And then he said something that has stuck with me to this day. He said that he didn't want to adopt to fill a hole. He wanted the hole in our hearts to be filled with God even if a biological child never filled it. Once we had found peace, we could move onto adoption to further enrich our lives but not because we needed something to cover up the pain.
It was very hard to watch him walk away with those packets -- my ace up the sleeve to parenthood. But I knew he was right. We agreed to not discuss adoption for at least a year.
We weren't ready. We hadn't fully traveled the infertility road we needed to travel. And we hadn't fully grieved the losses we had already had and would have in the future. After our fourth failed attempt, we both looked at each other and instantly knew. It was time. We were done with infertility treatments and ready for adoption. We were ready not because we needed to fill a hole. We were ready because we wanted to be parents. We began the paperwork for our adoption from China.
I look at my two boys now -- one from my body and one from the body of a young woman I love immensely, and I can tell you, with complete confidence, that I love these two children as equally as ever. JB and I feel incredibly confident that as they both grow, our love for the two of them will be as equal as any parent of two biological children. There is just no difference at all between the two of them.
Some women find pregnancy to be an amazingly experience. Other women hate the entire process. I did not hate being pregnant by any means. But I did not fall in love with it either. I have spoken to so many women about pregnancy during the last year of my life and each one seems to have a different perspective on the event. Some gals felt better pregnant than they did not pregnant. They'd consider being a surrogate for someone just because they so enjoyed the experience. If they could afford to have 30 children, they would do it. Other women I have spoken with absolutely despised being pregnant. They hated the entire process. I think I fell somewhere in the middle. I enjoyed the opportunity to be pregnant. I thought feeling Elijah move was awesome. But I was also quite uncomfortable, especially during the last month, and felt frustrated when I was unable to do the things (like exercise) that I normally did.
I say all that to say that I was pregnant with Elijah for ten months. At the same time, we waited to bring Isaac into our home for nearly as long as Bri made the decision that we would adopt Isaac very early in her pregnancy. I waited for both my boys for a long time. And when I met each of them, I fell in love with them in equal but different ways despite the fact that one of them was inside me and one was inside someone else.
Meeting Isaac is a moment I will never forget. It was unbelievably surreal to see this little person that someone was giving to us to raise and parent and love forever. Meeting Elijah was an equally awesome moment. It was equally surreal to think that this tiny child that had been growing inside me really existed and was ours.
I thought that I would have this major attachment to Elijah because he was inside my womb, and I had felt him moving for so many months. However, that just didn't happen. When Elijah was born and I saw him for the first time, it was amazing, but I really didn't feel more or less emotional about seeing him than I did when we first saw Isaac. They were both our sons. They both created emotions that caused me to feel like I was in a dream and I needed to be pinched to be told it was real. I cried equally hard with both of them.
In addition, I had wondered if my birth experience would create a different set of emotions surrounding Isaac and Elijah. But as you all know by now, the birth experience I had conjured up for us was not the way that it went. I was pretty doped up when Elijah finally emerged onto the scene and then I was in a ton of pain. Compare that to the introduction to Isaac where there was no birthing experience to recover from. If anything, I was able to enjoy Isaac's introduction to the world more than Elijah.
I can honestly say, 100%, that I feel like I have bonded to Elijah at the exact same speed at which I bonded with Isaac. This is despite the fact that I am breastfeeding Elijah and bottle feeding Isaac. Breastfeeding is great, don't get me wrong. But I really enjoyed bottle feeding as well. I liked watching JB being able to feed Isaac and being able to have help feeding him and being able to just focus on him instead of focusing on the details of getting everything "just right" in order to breastfeed. I know some mothers may feel differently, but for me, the opportunity to breastfeed did not change my bonding at all.
Here's the bottom line for me. I think that had I not ever gotten pregnant, and only had Isaac (and maybe adopted other children) that there would always have been 10% of me that couldn't make peace with that fact. That 10% of me would have been the part that got a little sad when I thought of some of the things I wouldn't get to do or see or have if I never got pregnant. That 10% would have been the part that still had trouble visiting new moms at the hospital or watching the Baby Story or going to baby showers or that type of thing.
But quite honestly, the more time I spent with Isaac, the smaller that percentage got to be. That part was getting smaller and smaller for me everyday. I know JB felt the same way. We were just so infatuated with Isaac, and often said that if it were just the three of us, forever, we were totally okay with that. Again, there was a small tugging to get to see my biological child, and I suppose that small tugging would have always been there. But I was a Mom. That's what I wanted. And even more, I wanted to see JB be a Dad, and man is he a Dad with Isaac. He races home and is on the floor wrestling with that kid in mere moments. Isaac is so awesome and so worth everything.
I got a phone call from Isaac's doctor's office yesterday. They called and said, "We'd like to speak to the guardian of Isaac John Kit." I replied in the affirmative by saying, "I'm Isaac's Mom." Isaac's Mom! That's me! He's my little boy. He has a birth family who love him immensely but I am the one in charge of him. I am the one following him on every step of this awesome journey. The fact that I got to "know him" after he emerged in the world instead of before, really means so very little to me.
I'm not saying pregnancy is not great, nor am I downplaying the miracle that occurred for us. Nor do I think that adoption will stop the pain of your infertility journey. Infertility stinks. In a perfect world, it wouldn't exist and either would adoption. But we live in a fallen world. I'm not glad about our fallen world but man, I am glad to be Isaac's Mom.
I definitely think every couple needs to exhaust infertility treatments to the extent that they need to. But I did want to encourage you that adoption is an absolutely amazing, wonderful, awesome, powerful, brilliant thing and that now that I have my two boys, I can honestly say, both experiences are equally powerful and the love is exactly the same.
My questions ran the gamut.
Some days I wondered if I could ever love a child as much as I loved Isaac. Some days I wondered if the fact that Elijah would come from my body would cause me to have stronger feelings about him than I did about Isaac. Would breastfeeding cause me to bond faster with Elijah? Would recovery mean that my early days with Isaac were better than those with Elijah? If I parented a child that looked like me would I find a stronger connection?
Yesterday, Elijah began his third week in this world. I'm sure that in the coming weeks, months, and years, I will become much more wise regarding the questions posed above. But today, after now having two boys, one adopted and one biological, I feel that I am able to answer a few of my own questions and most likely, the questions of others as well.
I write this post for any of you out there contemplating adoption. Maybe you are contemplating because you cannot have your own children as JB and I did. Maybe you are contemplating because you feel your own biological family is complete and you'd like to add to it. Whatever the reason, if you have contemplated adoption, you have probably asked yourself one of the questions I have asked myself at the start of this post. And it wasn't just me asking them. JB asked the same things.
As a reminder, adoption is not something to push on anyone. It is especially not something you should bring up to someone who is dealing with infertility unless they bring it up first. It is a very personal decision. It is filled with emotional, mental, and financial implications of immense proportions. It cannot be used as a band aid. It does not fix the sadness of an infertile heart.
After our second failed IVF, I requested an adoption packet from both America World and from Bethany Christian Services. America World is the agency we ended up using for our China adoption. Bethany was the agency I fell in love with and hoped to use had we decided to adopt domestically.
Those packets came in the mail, and as I sat in my bedroom in Minnesota and opened each of them, I began to sob. JB found me sitting on the floor between the bed and our window, tears streaming down my face. I knew I wanted to adopt, but my heart was broken for the biological children we would never meet. My husband took the packets and said he was putting them aside for at least twelve more months. And then he said something that has stuck with me to this day. He said that he didn't want to adopt to fill a hole. He wanted the hole in our hearts to be filled with God even if a biological child never filled it. Once we had found peace, we could move onto adoption to further enrich our lives but not because we needed something to cover up the pain.
It was very hard to watch him walk away with those packets -- my ace up the sleeve to parenthood. But I knew he was right. We agreed to not discuss adoption for at least a year.
We weren't ready. We hadn't fully traveled the infertility road we needed to travel. And we hadn't fully grieved the losses we had already had and would have in the future. After our fourth failed attempt, we both looked at each other and instantly knew. It was time. We were done with infertility treatments and ready for adoption. We were ready not because we needed to fill a hole. We were ready because we wanted to be parents. We began the paperwork for our adoption from China.
I look at my two boys now -- one from my body and one from the body of a young woman I love immensely, and I can tell you, with complete confidence, that I love these two children as equally as ever. JB and I feel incredibly confident that as they both grow, our love for the two of them will be as equal as any parent of two biological children. There is just no difference at all between the two of them.
Some women find pregnancy to be an amazingly experience. Other women hate the entire process. I did not hate being pregnant by any means. But I did not fall in love with it either. I have spoken to so many women about pregnancy during the last year of my life and each one seems to have a different perspective on the event. Some gals felt better pregnant than they did not pregnant. They'd consider being a surrogate for someone just because they so enjoyed the experience. If they could afford to have 30 children, they would do it. Other women I have spoken with absolutely despised being pregnant. They hated the entire process. I think I fell somewhere in the middle. I enjoyed the opportunity to be pregnant. I thought feeling Elijah move was awesome. But I was also quite uncomfortable, especially during the last month, and felt frustrated when I was unable to do the things (like exercise) that I normally did.
I say all that to say that I was pregnant with Elijah for ten months. At the same time, we waited to bring Isaac into our home for nearly as long as Bri made the decision that we would adopt Isaac very early in her pregnancy. I waited for both my boys for a long time. And when I met each of them, I fell in love with them in equal but different ways despite the fact that one of them was inside me and one was inside someone else.
Meeting Isaac is a moment I will never forget. It was unbelievably surreal to see this little person that someone was giving to us to raise and parent and love forever. Meeting Elijah was an equally awesome moment. It was equally surreal to think that this tiny child that had been growing inside me really existed and was ours.
I thought that I would have this major attachment to Elijah because he was inside my womb, and I had felt him moving for so many months. However, that just didn't happen. When Elijah was born and I saw him for the first time, it was amazing, but I really didn't feel more or less emotional about seeing him than I did when we first saw Isaac. They were both our sons. They both created emotions that caused me to feel like I was in a dream and I needed to be pinched to be told it was real. I cried equally hard with both of them.
In addition, I had wondered if my birth experience would create a different set of emotions surrounding Isaac and Elijah. But as you all know by now, the birth experience I had conjured up for us was not the way that it went. I was pretty doped up when Elijah finally emerged onto the scene and then I was in a ton of pain. Compare that to the introduction to Isaac where there was no birthing experience to recover from. If anything, I was able to enjoy Isaac's introduction to the world more than Elijah.
I can honestly say, 100%, that I feel like I have bonded to Elijah at the exact same speed at which I bonded with Isaac. This is despite the fact that I am breastfeeding Elijah and bottle feeding Isaac. Breastfeeding is great, don't get me wrong. But I really enjoyed bottle feeding as well. I liked watching JB being able to feed Isaac and being able to have help feeding him and being able to just focus on him instead of focusing on the details of getting everything "just right" in order to breastfeed. I know some mothers may feel differently, but for me, the opportunity to breastfeed did not change my bonding at all.
Here's the bottom line for me. I think that had I not ever gotten pregnant, and only had Isaac (and maybe adopted other children) that there would always have been 10% of me that couldn't make peace with that fact. That 10% of me would have been the part that got a little sad when I thought of some of the things I wouldn't get to do or see or have if I never got pregnant. That 10% would have been the part that still had trouble visiting new moms at the hospital or watching the Baby Story or going to baby showers or that type of thing.
But quite honestly, the more time I spent with Isaac, the smaller that percentage got to be. That part was getting smaller and smaller for me everyday. I know JB felt the same way. We were just so infatuated with Isaac, and often said that if it were just the three of us, forever, we were totally okay with that. Again, there was a small tugging to get to see my biological child, and I suppose that small tugging would have always been there. But I was a Mom. That's what I wanted. And even more, I wanted to see JB be a Dad, and man is he a Dad with Isaac. He races home and is on the floor wrestling with that kid in mere moments. Isaac is so awesome and so worth everything.
I got a phone call from Isaac's doctor's office yesterday. They called and said, "We'd like to speak to the guardian of Isaac John Kit." I replied in the affirmative by saying, "I'm Isaac's Mom." Isaac's Mom! That's me! He's my little boy. He has a birth family who love him immensely but I am the one in charge of him. I am the one following him on every step of this awesome journey. The fact that I got to "know him" after he emerged in the world instead of before, really means so very little to me.
I'm not saying pregnancy is not great, nor am I downplaying the miracle that occurred for us. Nor do I think that adoption will stop the pain of your infertility journey. Infertility stinks. In a perfect world, it wouldn't exist and either would adoption. But we live in a fallen world. I'm not glad about our fallen world but man, I am glad to be Isaac's Mom.
I definitely think every couple needs to exhaust infertility treatments to the extent that they need to. But I did want to encourage you that adoption is an absolutely amazing, wonderful, awesome, powerful, brilliant thing and that now that I have my two boys, I can honestly say, both experiences are equally powerful and the love is exactly the same.
Saturday, February 14, 2009
Happy Valentines Day from the Kit boys
It took me nearly the entire day to capture the boys in their Valentines Day Outfits from Hans & Rachel. Either one boy was sleeping or one boy was crying everytime we gave it a shot. At long last, right before dinner, we managed to capture them together.
Elijah expressing himself
Isaac comforting his little brother
Elijah getting a little top-heavy
Mom jumping in the middleGrampa is here!
Grampa K. arrived safe and sound yesterday. We are so excited to have him with us for a few days. He runs his own contracting business. Two of his sons and one of his sons-in-law work for him. Being away from the business for four days is a very long time so we are blessed he was able to get away. Hopefully he can get some R & R while he is here as well. He and Mom will be heading back down to south Florida on Tuesday morning -- a nice four day visit.
Elijah had a rough night last night which meant his Mom did too. In addition, our poor little Isaac is sporting a good 101.6 degree fever as of this a.m. The good news is that with four people here at once, there is plenty of opportunity for naps for Mom and snuggles for Isaac and Elijah. Hopefully today and tonight will be a lot better!
Friday, February 13, 2009
Today I learned . . .
. . . that you should not give a dog leftover rice if it was cooked with beans . . . ever. Even if there were no beans in the rice, if the two touched at anytime, just don't do it. We are still paying for my choice hours later. Take my word for it folks and learn from my mistake.
Our current life
Some alert moments while hanging with Mom 
A nap on the couch
Isaac wearing a bib from Uncle Rob's college: University of Central Florida
JB and Scrubs preparing to go for a run.Life is pretty ordinary right now. Basically our days are filled with feedings, diapers, naps, and play times. JB and Isaac went to the grocery store this morning, and when he got home, JB and Scrubs went for a run. He is trying to get back on track for his half marathon in three weeks.
As for me, I am busy continuing to rest and recoop while trying to "learn" this new little baby that has entered our home. So far, I think we are getting the hang of things pretty well. While I know it will change again in a week, right now, he is konking out "for the night" around 10pm. He stays down until about 2:30am and then goes back down again until 5:30am. He then takes some very long naps during the day until right around dinner time when he goes on a feeding frenzy again in preparation for his 10pm departure into slumber land.
I am trying hard not to compare Elijah with his big brother, but since his big brother was only a tiny baby himself a few months ago, it is hard not to. Elijah's lung power is much stronger than his big brother's. We have no need for a monitor with Elijah as his cry quickly alerts the whole house! Elijah also takes a bit longer to settle each evening than Isaac did. So far, it seems that Elijah favors the vibrating chair just as Isaac favored his swing. Elijah also likes to be held more than Isaac. Isaac thought the swing was just as good as Mom. Elijah does not feel the same way.
Isaac really disliked having his diaper changed and Elijah agrees! Elijah, however, really hates having a poopy diaper. He will instantly begin crying when there is anything in his diaper. We have also realized how many more dirty diapers a breastfeed baby has over a formula fed baby. Holy cow! Isaac usually had 1-2 dirty diapers a day. Nearly every one of Elijah's diapers leave us a present!
"When it rains, it pours" has also become a common expression in our house. It is amazing how quickly tranquility switches over to chaos. Mom and I will be sitting on the couch while Isaac is playing and Elijah is sleeping and Scrubs is staring out the window. In a moment, Isaac is hungry and Elijah wakes up and Scrubs spots a squirrel he would like to chase . . . while the phone starts ringing. It seems that it is feast or famine here and not much in between.
I have moments when I am encouraged that I can definitely handle all this by myself, when all our help is gone. I have other moments that I think, How in the world will I do this? But I know that as I continue to feel better, I'll continue to see things in a more positive light.
Right now we are waiting for Dad K. to finish his drive in. We are so excited to have him spend the long weekend with us! His grandboys and granddog are very anxious to see Grandpa!
Stunned
So apparently your bladder can be stunned.
I was thinking back to some of my adventures during my week long vacation at Eglin's hospital, and I realized I hadn't shared my full bladder story. :)
When you get an epidural, you also get catheterized. The idea of a catheter used to terrify me, but during IVF treatments, I had to be catheterized many times to combat a too full or too empty bladder. It really wasn't bad. I also had to face the catheter when I spiked a fever during my recent adventure as a urinary tract infection could have been the culprit, Anyways, those events were totally doable. And a catheter accompanied by an epidural? A cinch. You are numb anyway! No biggie.
Okay, so back to the stunned bladder part.
After I delivered on Saturday morning, I was required to stay in bed until Sunday morning. I suppose this is to allow my stomach to heal a bit and to allow the epidural to wear off. The catheter stays in place so you don't have to get up to use the bathroom.
Sunday morning they removed the catheter and got me up and out of bed. They also had me use the bathroom. Fast forward a few hours -- six probably. I am back in bed, talking to Dr. G. when all of a sudden I find myself in extreme pain again. I can't pinpoint where the pain is. I just hurt. As we all start discussing what could be wrong, I have a moment where I feel like maybe I need to go to the bathroom. I begin the long and drawn out process of getting out of bed and sauntering into the bathroom. They have a device in place to measure my urine output and when all is said and done, I have released nearly an entire IV bag worth of fluid. Apparently a bladder can get stunned and, as I understand it, sort of forget to tell the brain it needs to be emptied. I had been drinking tons of fluids but hadn't used the bathroom in hours. The pain I felt was most likely bladder spasms . . . who knew you could forget to go to the bathroom!
Unfortunately I really stretched out my bladder during that event so over the next few days I would have to make myself use the restroom at regularly scheduled intervals as I was still not feeling a need to go. I can say that since returning home with specific instructions to stay very well hydrated, the urge has returned with a vengeance. I'm constantly using the restroom.
Speaking of home, it is hard to believe that as of today, I have been home one whole week. And what a difference a week makes. I am now able to get myself completely dressed! I can get in and out of a chair holding Elijah. I can pull Isaac up onto the couch by me so I can read him a book or give him a bottle in his boppy. I can bend down and pick things up off the ground without having to use my toes to get me halfway there. I can use the bathroom fairly easily. I can get in and out of bed in a matter of seconds instead of a matter of minutes. I have also lost 29 pounds since Friday (I left the hospital weighing at least 10 pounds more than when I entered it) and goodness knows it is all fluid. I can now see the veins in my feet again! I have my arches back as well. I was also able to actually see my incision without looking in the mirror which indicates that the air in my stomach (which previously blocked my view) has gone down even more.
JB actually has a four day weekend! It is perfect timing as I have hit a bit of a fatigue wall. In addition, his Dad is driving up from South Florida today. He will be staying until Tuesday morning and then driving home with JB's mom. What a blessing that she has been here with me for these two weeks. I truly could not have made it without her. She has been so amazingly helpful, with both boys and Scrubs.
On Tuesday as JB's parents are driving south, they will be passing Joan on the road who will be driving up to replace them. She will be staying a week! Next week is a big week as Isaac has surgery on his ear on Thursday. Please be praying for him (and for his nervous parents) as we prepare for this big event. JB has already taken Thursday off of work so he will be here to help the entire day.
Happy Valentines Day everyone!
I was thinking back to some of my adventures during my week long vacation at Eglin's hospital, and I realized I hadn't shared my full bladder story. :)
When you get an epidural, you also get catheterized. The idea of a catheter used to terrify me, but during IVF treatments, I had to be catheterized many times to combat a too full or too empty bladder. It really wasn't bad. I also had to face the catheter when I spiked a fever during my recent adventure as a urinary tract infection could have been the culprit, Anyways, those events were totally doable. And a catheter accompanied by an epidural? A cinch. You are numb anyway! No biggie.
Okay, so back to the stunned bladder part.
After I delivered on Saturday morning, I was required to stay in bed until Sunday morning. I suppose this is to allow my stomach to heal a bit and to allow the epidural to wear off. The catheter stays in place so you don't have to get up to use the bathroom.
Sunday morning they removed the catheter and got me up and out of bed. They also had me use the bathroom. Fast forward a few hours -- six probably. I am back in bed, talking to Dr. G. when all of a sudden I find myself in extreme pain again. I can't pinpoint where the pain is. I just hurt. As we all start discussing what could be wrong, I have a moment where I feel like maybe I need to go to the bathroom. I begin the long and drawn out process of getting out of bed and sauntering into the bathroom. They have a device in place to measure my urine output and when all is said and done, I have released nearly an entire IV bag worth of fluid. Apparently a bladder can get stunned and, as I understand it, sort of forget to tell the brain it needs to be emptied. I had been drinking tons of fluids but hadn't used the bathroom in hours. The pain I felt was most likely bladder spasms . . . who knew you could forget to go to the bathroom!
Unfortunately I really stretched out my bladder during that event so over the next few days I would have to make myself use the restroom at regularly scheduled intervals as I was still not feeling a need to go. I can say that since returning home with specific instructions to stay very well hydrated, the urge has returned with a vengeance. I'm constantly using the restroom.
Speaking of home, it is hard to believe that as of today, I have been home one whole week. And what a difference a week makes. I am now able to get myself completely dressed! I can get in and out of a chair holding Elijah. I can pull Isaac up onto the couch by me so I can read him a book or give him a bottle in his boppy. I can bend down and pick things up off the ground without having to use my toes to get me halfway there. I can use the bathroom fairly easily. I can get in and out of bed in a matter of seconds instead of a matter of minutes. I have also lost 29 pounds since Friday (I left the hospital weighing at least 10 pounds more than when I entered it) and goodness knows it is all fluid. I can now see the veins in my feet again! I have my arches back as well. I was also able to actually see my incision without looking in the mirror which indicates that the air in my stomach (which previously blocked my view) has gone down even more.
JB actually has a four day weekend! It is perfect timing as I have hit a bit of a fatigue wall. In addition, his Dad is driving up from South Florida today. He will be staying until Tuesday morning and then driving home with JB's mom. What a blessing that she has been here with me for these two weeks. I truly could not have made it without her. She has been so amazingly helpful, with both boys and Scrubs.
On Tuesday as JB's parents are driving south, they will be passing Joan on the road who will be driving up to replace them. She will be staying a week! Next week is a big week as Isaac has surgery on his ear on Thursday. Please be praying for him (and for his nervous parents) as we prepare for this big event. JB has already taken Thursday off of work so he will be here to help the entire day.
Happy Valentines Day everyone!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
Blue Like Jazz
I have been reading a book entitled: Blue Like Jazz by Donald Miller. It was actually a book JB was reading for his men's book club, and I snagged it and started reading it, mostly because I was interested in the writer's tone and style. He has a very stream of consciousness approach that I really appreciate. It was actually more his style than his words that caused me to turn the pages. Before I knew it, I was 100 pages in.
Shortly after writing the post that I did yesterday -- a post where I confessed to you all the questions I had regarding why I had to endure the difficult complications in order to bring Elijah home -- I stumbled across a few paragraphs in Miller's book that just jumped off the page at me. It truly was if God was speaking to me through his prose. If Miller's words don't help answer the questions I am struggling with, I really am not sure what can.
How quickly we forget that God is not human. That we live in a fallen world. That life is not perfect. One thing I came to realize during our years of infertility was that I held a very big misconception of how life worked. I had, somehow, held onto a just-world mentality. (I wrote a post on this back in March of 2006 which you can read by clicking here.)
Just-World thinkers are people who blame the victim: The world is tough but fair; if something happens to you, it is your own fault. The Just-world hypothesis is defined as: "The tendency to believe that the world is fair and that people get what they deserve."
But Miller reminded me of how it really works. I hope that those of you struggling with why can find some comfort in his words just as I did:
I know a little of why there is blood in my body, pumping life into my limbs and thought into my brain. I am wanted by God. He is wanting to preserve me, to guide me through the darkness of the shadow of death, up into the highlights of His presence and afterlife. I understand that I am temporary, in this shell of a thing on this dirt of an earth. I am being tempted by Satan, we are all being tempted by Satan, but I am preserved to tell those who do not know about our Savior and Redeemer. This is why Paul had no questions. This is why he could be beaten one day, imprisoned the next, and released only to be beaten again and never ask God why. He understood the earth was fallen. He understood the rules of Rome could not save mankind, that mankind could not save itself; rather, it must be rescued, and he knew that he was not in the promised land, but still in the desert, and like Joshua and Caleb he was shouting, "Follow me and trust God!"
I see it now . . . I could see Satan lashing out on the earth like a madman, setting tribes against each other in Rwanda, whispering in men's ears in the Congo so that they rape rather than defend their women. Satan is at work in the cults of the Third World, the economic chaos in Argentina, and the corporate-driven greed of American corporate executives.
I lay there under the stars and thought of what a great responsibility it is to be human. I am a human because God made me. I experience suffering and temptation because mankind chose to follow Satan. God is reaching out to me to rescue me. I am learning to trust Him, learning to live by His precepts that I might be preserved.
Shortly after writing the post that I did yesterday -- a post where I confessed to you all the questions I had regarding why I had to endure the difficult complications in order to bring Elijah home -- I stumbled across a few paragraphs in Miller's book that just jumped off the page at me. It truly was if God was speaking to me through his prose. If Miller's words don't help answer the questions I am struggling with, I really am not sure what can.
How quickly we forget that God is not human. That we live in a fallen world. That life is not perfect. One thing I came to realize during our years of infertility was that I held a very big misconception of how life worked. I had, somehow, held onto a just-world mentality. (I wrote a post on this back in March of 2006 which you can read by clicking here.)
Just-World thinkers are people who blame the victim: The world is tough but fair; if something happens to you, it is your own fault. The Just-world hypothesis is defined as: "The tendency to believe that the world is fair and that people get what they deserve."
But Miller reminded me of how it really works. I hope that those of you struggling with why can find some comfort in his words just as I did:
I know a little of why there is blood in my body, pumping life into my limbs and thought into my brain. I am wanted by God. He is wanting to preserve me, to guide me through the darkness of the shadow of death, up into the highlights of His presence and afterlife. I understand that I am temporary, in this shell of a thing on this dirt of an earth. I am being tempted by Satan, we are all being tempted by Satan, but I am preserved to tell those who do not know about our Savior and Redeemer. This is why Paul had no questions. This is why he could be beaten one day, imprisoned the next, and released only to be beaten again and never ask God why. He understood the earth was fallen. He understood the rules of Rome could not save mankind, that mankind could not save itself; rather, it must be rescued, and he knew that he was not in the promised land, but still in the desert, and like Joshua and Caleb he was shouting, "Follow me and trust God!"
I see it now . . . I could see Satan lashing out on the earth like a madman, setting tribes against each other in Rwanda, whispering in men's ears in the Congo so that they rape rather than defend their women. Satan is at work in the cults of the Third World, the economic chaos in Argentina, and the corporate-driven greed of American corporate executives.
I lay there under the stars and thought of what a great responsibility it is to be human. I am a human because God made me. I experience suffering and temptation because mankind chose to follow Satan. God is reaching out to me to rescue me. I am learning to trust Him, learning to live by His precepts that I might be preserved.
Wednesday, February 11, 2009
An attempt
I want to make an attempt, somehow, in putting into words the last week of my life.
I am starting this post on Saturday afternoon, not even twenty-four hours after I was able to finally leave the hospital and return to the home and family I love.
We'll have to see what day it is when I finally finish organizing the mass cacophony of thoughts and feelings and confusion and excitement and bewilderment and amazement swirling around in my still-recovering brain.
Please excuse this post if I jump around a bit. I'm sure you understand when I tell you that my memories of Elijah's first week of life aren't really in order for me. I often have trouble remembering what happened when. It has all blended together so much that there truly is no way to successfully navigate my thoughts in a logical order.
What I do know is that like so many other events in my life, particularly surrounding those in our journey to parenthood, this one challenged me and is still challenging me. It challenged my faith, my strength, my determination, my dreams. I am now out of the hospital, but I know I have a lot of healing still to do and much of it is not physical.
I'm sure by now, most of you have read of our little Elijah's introduction to the world. JB wrote this shortly after everything occurred. I really wanted him to do this as I knew we would forget so much if we didn't capture it right away. I truly can't add much to JB's explanation of the events when it comes to those moments prior to the c-section. His picture is nearly identical to the one in my mind.
I say this with all honesty: labor was not that bad. I especially want to say that for those of you who are reading our story and feeling scared about having a baby. Maybe you are pregnant for the first time now or hope to be in the future. Please don't let my story scare you. As JB has told me many times, "Wendi, in your case, everything that could go wrong, did." That being said, my difficulties were not prior to Elijah's birth. My difficulties came afterward.
Even though I was technically in labor for nearly twenty-four hours before Elijah made his grand entrance, with the help of an epidural, I felt like it was quite manageable. I was in control of my pain at all times. The hardest part was when they put in the Foley catheter to dilate my cervix. What was hard about this was not that the pain got intense. It was how quickly the pain got intense. I went from a nice 5 or 6 on that pain scale, breathing through contractions, not even feeling that I had to have pain medication at that point, to nearly a 10 within about two minutes. That creates some difficulty mentally as I did not have the opportunity to work my way up to more intense pain. However, even during the two hours or so between the catheter being placed and the epidural setting in, I was in control of the pain. I kept breathing, kept focusing, and truly did not feel like it was too much worse than my dry socket! That's the truth. While I didn't reach the finish line of natural labor (delivering the baby vaginally), I covered the rest of it, and I wouldn't fear it if I were to do it again. (Which I won't be -- I've been told that my body is not designed to vaginally birth a baby, and I've accepted that.)
The time also went fast. Pushing for three hours did not feel like three hours, mentally at least. My body took a beating of course which is why labor and the a Cesarean is not preferred. When they brought the bar out that I could basically hang on to push, I felt like I was making progress. I was doing everything they asked me to do. Sometimes doctors only come in for the grand finale. But Dr. G. was with me during so much of the delivery including nearly all of the pushing phase. I kept waiting for them to tell me the finish line was approaching.
At the one hour mark Dr. G. asked me if I knew how long she would let me push before we said it wouldn't be happening vaginally. JB cheated and held up three fingers behind her back. She was so impressed, and we all shared a laugh when I quickly answered correctly. I took a glance at the clock and made a mental note of how much time I had left before my time was up. I was determined to push just right, do whatever they asked, to get Elijah out.
It was disappointing when, at about the 2.5 hour mark, Dr. G. told me that despite my best efforts, it was not going to happen. In a way, I was glad for the bit of "c-section talk" JB and I had had when I was failing to dilate before the Foley catheter was put in. Elijah's heart rate had dropped a few times and I was still stuck at 3cm dilated. Dr. G. came in and said she was contemplating c-section if the Foley bulb didn't work its magic. JB and I sat and talked for a long while at this point. We prayed together. Dr. G. came back in and prayed with us. (How cool is that?) When she checked me again, the "magic" (aka God) had begun. I was progressing. And Elijah's heart rate was solid.
But now, here we were again, and this time, it didn't seem that prayer was going to change the fact that my darned pelvis was just too small to allow Elijah's head through. Go figure that this 6'3" Dutch girl doesn't have a big enough pelvis to get a baby out! Geesh. JB and I sat and talked in between contractions. He told me that, truly, I was pushing exactly like I should. He promised that he would be honest with me and tell me if there was anything I could have done differently. There just wasn't. In the end, it probably wasn't even the size of Elijah's head. It was the fact that my pelvis was not designed to have a baby of even average size, slide through.
I must digress here a moment to tell you how thankful I am for western medicine. Here's the truth of it. If I lived in another era or a third world country, I would most likely be dead right now. I'd push for days and eventually die. Or Elijah would be killed to save my life. Or we both would die. We are so amazingly blessed to live in a place where medicine is what it is. God has given these men and women such amazing knowledge. How amazing that we are able to be the recipients of that knowledge.
So back to my story, labor truly wasn't that bad. It wasn't. Getting prepped for the c-section was a bit nerve-wracking. As the anaesthesiologist pokes you in various places to see what you feel, you can't help but have this fear that they won't get you fully numb. That you will feel something. A part of me didn't want to be awake for the procedure. I just wanted to wake up and be told that it was all over.
JB had met and worked with Dr. S. on many occasions. He is a fabulous Christian man. He is not an OB, but he did an OB fellowship. We felt completely comfortable with him doing my surgery. There was some discussion as to whom they should have assist Dr. S on the surgery. Because JB works at the hospital, I had some rights in refusing or requesting who I would or would not want in the room. Of all the people that JB worked with, I had told him many months earlier that if one of his co-workers had to be present, I would want it to be Kacey C. Not only is she a female, but she is just a tremendous person and doctor. It just so happened that Kacey was on-call that day and was able to slip away from her other duties to be in on the surgery. Her voice was familiar and upbeat despite my droopiness. I was so blessed to have her there.
Kacey was given an option before the procedure. She could assist Dr. S on the surgery or she could be the doctor ready to handle the baby resuscitation that comes once the little guy emerges into the world. Kacey likes surgery and chose to be by Dr. S' side. Later, she would visit us in my room and tell us how glad she was that she made that choice. Dr. G was given the responsibility of baby resuscitation, and I'm sure Kacey was incredibly glad to not be the doctor trying to save the life of a child of a family she knew so well. Instead, Kacey was forced to field my questions while she stitched me up. She did her best to tell me that "they were working on him," and "that the best people were doing their jobs." Later she would admit to me how hard it was to do her job knowing that Elijah was in such distress while his mom lay helpless on the table.
It is at this point in the story that I truly have trouble thinking, talking, or writing about. I have played out the moments of Elijah's entrance over and over again in my mind. I have talked them through with Dr. G and JB many times. The hardest thing about Elijah doing so badly at birth for me is the fact that my mind is unable to answer this question: How would my faith have survived had Elijah not made it?
I plan to do a whole post on this in the near future so I'll refrain from diving too deeply right now. JB has told me that seeing a child with an apgar score of 1 at birth is not unusual. It happens. Baby comes out limp and is quickly brought around. The concerning thing was that his score at 5 minutes was only a 2! (10 is the highest.) I cannot imagine how agonizing that wait must have been for my amazing husband who was not the recipient of fog-inducing drugs as I was. I remember that Kacey was the closest person to me and despite my drug-induced state, I begged her for information. Everyone in that room knew our story. They knew this baby was nothing short of a miracle. How could God give us a miracle only to take it back again? And if he did take it back again, could I truly continue to believe in God?
I'd like to believe that the answer to that question is yes. I'd like to believe that I'd handle that like I'd handled other disappointing and disconcerting events in my life. I'd continue to trust the Lord. He is sovereign. He knows best. But the truth is, when I play out the story in the other direction, I am just not sure how I could have survived. How JB and I could have survived. I remember thinking of Isaac during those moments. I'd survive for him. But for no other reason.
Of course, the story didn't end that way. By ten minutes, Elijah was a 7. Soon after, a 9. JB has never had to intubate a newborn. Elijah was intubated but only for a few minutes. He was well enough to greet me in my room post-surgery.
Dr. G would admit later that, "Yes, I was incredibly scared there for a few moments." She'd be honest when telling us that it didn't appear that he was without oxygen for any period of time but that they could never know for sure. She said that if there were any issues, we'd see them in developmental delays in the next year of Elijah's life. But most likely, if anything, anything he "lost" would be something we'd never miss. If you are JB's son, what's 5 less IQ points, right? Ha!
But Elijah's birth was only the beginning of a series of faith-producing questions I would face over the course of the next week. Why couldn't I deliver naturally? Why did we have to face the scare of never meeting our son? Why did I have to have such intense post-surgery pain? Why an infection? Why the Ileus? Why me?
My husband was so integral in my dealing with these questions. He'd let me cry. He'd let me complain. But if I ever started to throw a pity party, he'd quickly tell me that he wasn't going to that party, and I wasn't going to go there either. Feeling sorry for yourself when you are down and out doesn't help anything. When trying to recover, you simply have to focus on the goal of recovery.
For me, recovery meant tough love from my husband. He'd stand there and watch me struggle to get in and out of bed. He'd off a shoulder to pull on, a hand to hold, but would refuse to do the work for me. He'd toss my breathing treatment onto my bed anytime he passed by. (Since I couldn't take deep breaths, they worried about pneumonia and this tiny contraption helped me to practice deep breathing in order to keep my lungs clear.) He'd ask me why I hadn't walked the floors during the last few hours. Each time I took a shower or completed a routine activity, he'd make me do more of it and him less. Sometimes I just wished he would tell me to sit there and he'd do everything. But in my heart I knew this was key to success.
I'm home now. And I have a lot more I want to write about and want to say and want to process. I'm able to blog more than I thought I would due to the fact that this rocker and laptop is one of the most comfortable places in my house for me to be. Right now, as I write this, Elijah is sleeping on our bed, surrounded by pillows, and I am waiting for him to eat. Other times I write with one hand as my other is holding him.
Elijah, has still not sunk in for me yet. A post on him and his inclusion into our family is still a ways away. He is still this tiny piece of life that doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel like he really exists. I remember feeling the same way about Isaac. When I work my way into believing he is real, I'll share my feelings on him and his very long arms and legs and fingers and toes.
For now, I'll leave you with this post as it is. I hope it followed some sort of intellectually logical progression. It's the best I can do for now. As always, more to come.
I am starting this post on Saturday afternoon, not even twenty-four hours after I was able to finally leave the hospital and return to the home and family I love.
We'll have to see what day it is when I finally finish organizing the mass cacophony of thoughts and feelings and confusion and excitement and bewilderment and amazement swirling around in my still-recovering brain.
Please excuse this post if I jump around a bit. I'm sure you understand when I tell you that my memories of Elijah's first week of life aren't really in order for me. I often have trouble remembering what happened when. It has all blended together so much that there truly is no way to successfully navigate my thoughts in a logical order.
What I do know is that like so many other events in my life, particularly surrounding those in our journey to parenthood, this one challenged me and is still challenging me. It challenged my faith, my strength, my determination, my dreams. I am now out of the hospital, but I know I have a lot of healing still to do and much of it is not physical.
I'm sure by now, most of you have read of our little Elijah's introduction to the world. JB wrote this shortly after everything occurred. I really wanted him to do this as I knew we would forget so much if we didn't capture it right away. I truly can't add much to JB's explanation of the events when it comes to those moments prior to the c-section. His picture is nearly identical to the one in my mind.
I say this with all honesty: labor was not that bad. I especially want to say that for those of you who are reading our story and feeling scared about having a baby. Maybe you are pregnant for the first time now or hope to be in the future. Please don't let my story scare you. As JB has told me many times, "Wendi, in your case, everything that could go wrong, did." That being said, my difficulties were not prior to Elijah's birth. My difficulties came afterward.
Even though I was technically in labor for nearly twenty-four hours before Elijah made his grand entrance, with the help of an epidural, I felt like it was quite manageable. I was in control of my pain at all times. The hardest part was when they put in the Foley catheter to dilate my cervix. What was hard about this was not that the pain got intense. It was how quickly the pain got intense. I went from a nice 5 or 6 on that pain scale, breathing through contractions, not even feeling that I had to have pain medication at that point, to nearly a 10 within about two minutes. That creates some difficulty mentally as I did not have the opportunity to work my way up to more intense pain. However, even during the two hours or so between the catheter being placed and the epidural setting in, I was in control of the pain. I kept breathing, kept focusing, and truly did not feel like it was too much worse than my dry socket! That's the truth. While I didn't reach the finish line of natural labor (delivering the baby vaginally), I covered the rest of it, and I wouldn't fear it if I were to do it again. (Which I won't be -- I've been told that my body is not designed to vaginally birth a baby, and I've accepted that.)
The time also went fast. Pushing for three hours did not feel like three hours, mentally at least. My body took a beating of course which is why labor and the a Cesarean is not preferred. When they brought the bar out that I could basically hang on to push, I felt like I was making progress. I was doing everything they asked me to do. Sometimes doctors only come in for the grand finale. But Dr. G. was with me during so much of the delivery including nearly all of the pushing phase. I kept waiting for them to tell me the finish line was approaching.
At the one hour mark Dr. G. asked me if I knew how long she would let me push before we said it wouldn't be happening vaginally. JB cheated and held up three fingers behind her back. She was so impressed, and we all shared a laugh when I quickly answered correctly. I took a glance at the clock and made a mental note of how much time I had left before my time was up. I was determined to push just right, do whatever they asked, to get Elijah out.
It was disappointing when, at about the 2.5 hour mark, Dr. G. told me that despite my best efforts, it was not going to happen. In a way, I was glad for the bit of "c-section talk" JB and I had had when I was failing to dilate before the Foley catheter was put in. Elijah's heart rate had dropped a few times and I was still stuck at 3cm dilated. Dr. G. came in and said she was contemplating c-section if the Foley bulb didn't work its magic. JB and I sat and talked for a long while at this point. We prayed together. Dr. G. came back in and prayed with us. (How cool is that?) When she checked me again, the "magic" (aka God) had begun. I was progressing. And Elijah's heart rate was solid.
But now, here we were again, and this time, it didn't seem that prayer was going to change the fact that my darned pelvis was just too small to allow Elijah's head through. Go figure that this 6'3" Dutch girl doesn't have a big enough pelvis to get a baby out! Geesh. JB and I sat and talked in between contractions. He told me that, truly, I was pushing exactly like I should. He promised that he would be honest with me and tell me if there was anything I could have done differently. There just wasn't. In the end, it probably wasn't even the size of Elijah's head. It was the fact that my pelvis was not designed to have a baby of even average size, slide through.
I must digress here a moment to tell you how thankful I am for western medicine. Here's the truth of it. If I lived in another era or a third world country, I would most likely be dead right now. I'd push for days and eventually die. Or Elijah would be killed to save my life. Or we both would die. We are so amazingly blessed to live in a place where medicine is what it is. God has given these men and women such amazing knowledge. How amazing that we are able to be the recipients of that knowledge.
So back to my story, labor truly wasn't that bad. It wasn't. Getting prepped for the c-section was a bit nerve-wracking. As the anaesthesiologist pokes you in various places to see what you feel, you can't help but have this fear that they won't get you fully numb. That you will feel something. A part of me didn't want to be awake for the procedure. I just wanted to wake up and be told that it was all over.
JB had met and worked with Dr. S. on many occasions. He is a fabulous Christian man. He is not an OB, but he did an OB fellowship. We felt completely comfortable with him doing my surgery. There was some discussion as to whom they should have assist Dr. S on the surgery. Because JB works at the hospital, I had some rights in refusing or requesting who I would or would not want in the room. Of all the people that JB worked with, I had told him many months earlier that if one of his co-workers had to be present, I would want it to be Kacey C. Not only is she a female, but she is just a tremendous person and doctor. It just so happened that Kacey was on-call that day and was able to slip away from her other duties to be in on the surgery. Her voice was familiar and upbeat despite my droopiness. I was so blessed to have her there.
Kacey was given an option before the procedure. She could assist Dr. S on the surgery or she could be the doctor ready to handle the baby resuscitation that comes once the little guy emerges into the world. Kacey likes surgery and chose to be by Dr. S' side. Later, she would visit us in my room and tell us how glad she was that she made that choice. Dr. G was given the responsibility of baby resuscitation, and I'm sure Kacey was incredibly glad to not be the doctor trying to save the life of a child of a family she knew so well. Instead, Kacey was forced to field my questions while she stitched me up. She did her best to tell me that "they were working on him," and "that the best people were doing their jobs." Later she would admit to me how hard it was to do her job knowing that Elijah was in such distress while his mom lay helpless on the table.
It is at this point in the story that I truly have trouble thinking, talking, or writing about. I have played out the moments of Elijah's entrance over and over again in my mind. I have talked them through with Dr. G and JB many times. The hardest thing about Elijah doing so badly at birth for me is the fact that my mind is unable to answer this question: How would my faith have survived had Elijah not made it?
I plan to do a whole post on this in the near future so I'll refrain from diving too deeply right now. JB has told me that seeing a child with an apgar score of 1 at birth is not unusual. It happens. Baby comes out limp and is quickly brought around. The concerning thing was that his score at 5 minutes was only a 2! (10 is the highest.) I cannot imagine how agonizing that wait must have been for my amazing husband who was not the recipient of fog-inducing drugs as I was. I remember that Kacey was the closest person to me and despite my drug-induced state, I begged her for information. Everyone in that room knew our story. They knew this baby was nothing short of a miracle. How could God give us a miracle only to take it back again? And if he did take it back again, could I truly continue to believe in God?
I'd like to believe that the answer to that question is yes. I'd like to believe that I'd handle that like I'd handled other disappointing and disconcerting events in my life. I'd continue to trust the Lord. He is sovereign. He knows best. But the truth is, when I play out the story in the other direction, I am just not sure how I could have survived. How JB and I could have survived. I remember thinking of Isaac during those moments. I'd survive for him. But for no other reason.
Of course, the story didn't end that way. By ten minutes, Elijah was a 7. Soon after, a 9. JB has never had to intubate a newborn. Elijah was intubated but only for a few minutes. He was well enough to greet me in my room post-surgery.
Dr. G would admit later that, "Yes, I was incredibly scared there for a few moments." She'd be honest when telling us that it didn't appear that he was without oxygen for any period of time but that they could never know for sure. She said that if there were any issues, we'd see them in developmental delays in the next year of Elijah's life. But most likely, if anything, anything he "lost" would be something we'd never miss. If you are JB's son, what's 5 less IQ points, right? Ha!
But Elijah's birth was only the beginning of a series of faith-producing questions I would face over the course of the next week. Why couldn't I deliver naturally? Why did we have to face the scare of never meeting our son? Why did I have to have such intense post-surgery pain? Why an infection? Why the Ileus? Why me?
My husband was so integral in my dealing with these questions. He'd let me cry. He'd let me complain. But if I ever started to throw a pity party, he'd quickly tell me that he wasn't going to that party, and I wasn't going to go there either. Feeling sorry for yourself when you are down and out doesn't help anything. When trying to recover, you simply have to focus on the goal of recovery.
For me, recovery meant tough love from my husband. He'd stand there and watch me struggle to get in and out of bed. He'd off a shoulder to pull on, a hand to hold, but would refuse to do the work for me. He'd toss my breathing treatment onto my bed anytime he passed by. (Since I couldn't take deep breaths, they worried about pneumonia and this tiny contraption helped me to practice deep breathing in order to keep my lungs clear.) He'd ask me why I hadn't walked the floors during the last few hours. Each time I took a shower or completed a routine activity, he'd make me do more of it and him less. Sometimes I just wished he would tell me to sit there and he'd do everything. But in my heart I knew this was key to success.
I'm home now. And I have a lot more I want to write about and want to say and want to process. I'm able to blog more than I thought I would due to the fact that this rocker and laptop is one of the most comfortable places in my house for me to be. Right now, as I write this, Elijah is sleeping on our bed, surrounded by pillows, and I am waiting for him to eat. Other times I write with one hand as my other is holding him.
Elijah, has still not sunk in for me yet. A post on him and his inclusion into our family is still a ways away. He is still this tiny piece of life that doesn't feel real. Doesn't feel like he really exists. I remember feeling the same way about Isaac. When I work my way into believing he is real, I'll share my feelings on him and his very long arms and legs and fingers and toes.
For now, I'll leave you with this post as it is. I hope it followed some sort of intellectually logical progression. It's the best I can do for now. As always, more to come.
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
Hospital Snaps
Here are the very first pics of Elijah taken at the hospital. This is probably something only the Gramas really care about, but I am throwing it out there for all of you to see.
If it requires any information, use our last name and the Customer #: 01571-2575-43502
If it requires any information, use our last name and the Customer #: 01571-2575-43502
A few more hospital photos
Backing up a bit . . . I found a few fun fotos to share
JB's Mom Mary & Elijah
My mom Diane
Doctor G.
JB's Mom Mary & Elijah
My mom Diane
Doctor G.I like to eat bananas!
Back from our visit with Dr. G.
Somehow, Mom, me, Isaac, and Elijah successfully got out of the house right on time and navigated our way with double stroller into the family medicine department. Everyone looks great! Isaac is weighing 21 pounds I think. (I can't read Dr. G's writing). His head is still on the smaller side but is totally within the curve :) Elijah is now at 8.10 ounces. He is 21.5 inches which is in the 90th percentile. (No big surprise there!) His weight is good news to me. After their initial drop in weight, they are supposed to gain about an ounce a day. He has gained six ounces in four days. This is relief to me as it means that breastfeeding is going well. After bottle feeding Isaac and knowing exactly how much he has gotten, the unknowns of breastfeeding can be a little daunting. As for me, my weight has finally begun to drop. I've had a pretty nasty headache for two days, most likely related to hormones, and she prescribed some medicine to help me with that. She was impressed with how I am moving and how much my swelling has gone down.
Dr. G. talked to me about getting Isaac more into eating solids. He has been nibbling on little things but up until a few days ago, was gagging and throwing up whenever we gave him anything. However, today, I decided to set him in his highchair and give him some banana. He loved it! Of course Mom had to give him a bath afterwards, but it was totally worth it.
Initially, he wasn't too sure what to do with this pile of goop . . .
But he soon figured it out!
Somehow, Mom, me, Isaac, and Elijah successfully got out of the house right on time and navigated our way with double stroller into the family medicine department. Everyone looks great! Isaac is weighing 21 pounds I think. (I can't read Dr. G's writing). His head is still on the smaller side but is totally within the curve :) Elijah is now at 8.10 ounces. He is 21.5 inches which is in the 90th percentile. (No big surprise there!) His weight is good news to me. After their initial drop in weight, they are supposed to gain about an ounce a day. He has gained six ounces in four days. This is relief to me as it means that breastfeeding is going well. After bottle feeding Isaac and knowing exactly how much he has gotten, the unknowns of breastfeeding can be a little daunting. As for me, my weight has finally begun to drop. I've had a pretty nasty headache for two days, most likely related to hormones, and she prescribed some medicine to help me with that. She was impressed with how I am moving and how much my swelling has gone down.
Dr. G. talked to me about getting Isaac more into eating solids. He has been nibbling on little things but up until a few days ago, was gagging and throwing up whenever we gave him anything. However, today, I decided to set him in his highchair and give him some banana. He loved it! Of course Mom had to give him a bath afterwards, but it was totally worth it.
Initially, he wasn't too sure what to do with this pile of goop . . .
But he soon figured it out! Improvements
Improvements are coming so quickly. And each improvement is proof that I am mending and that someday, I will feel like myself again. That sounds silly to say, but when I was in the hospital, I started wondering if I would ever feel good again. I am sure many of you have been in this spot. I'd watch people on TV running and jumping and think, "How do they do that?" Even taking a lap around my floor in the hospital, I'd look at everyone else and think, "They look like they really feel good." I wanted that so badly and in moments of self-pity, would wonder if I would ever attain it.
But in the last few days, I am seeing improvements. JB reminds me that it will be two steps forward, one step backward, but that the steps forward are coming.
I can now get in and out of bed completely by myself. It's quite a comedy show, but it is still possible.
While I can't put on my own underwear (*blush*), I can get my sweats on with a good bit of balancing and toe usage.
I can now get in and out of a rocker while holding Elijah. If I am very sore, I set him on the foot stool and hold him there while I stand. But if I am feeling really up to it, I can get up with only one hand for balance.
I can now manage to get the milk out of the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. The first two days, I couldn't get low enough to get it out by myself. It's quite interesting when you are awake, the rest of the house isn't, and you decide to choose what you will eat based on what you can actually reach. But this morning, I chose what I wanted and did it all by myself.
I fed Scrubs yesterday. Okay so it did involve me sort of pouring his kibble into his bowl from a standing position and more of it getting on the floor than into the bowl. I also had to skip the hot water and pumpkin I sometimes add as well. But he really didn't seem to mind. He sat there, as he always does, waiting for the "okay" command that signifies he can eat. It was just like old times.
Sunday, I walked to the bay (about a quarter block). Jeff and Bobbie came by. Bobbie pushed Isaac. Jeff walked Scrubs. Mom K. stayed with Elijah. And I sat on their porch. Jeff had set up some chairs down by the water where the sun was shining, but I couldn't make it that far. But still. It was the first time I had truly been outside in nearly two weeks. It felt so good. JB said I probably pushed it a little. And I was a little more sore the next night from the extra steps, but man it was glorious to be outside, and totally worth it.
My bowels are still working great, and I am eating at each meal. My appetite is still pretty screwed up, and believe it or not, I really have no desire for sweets or anything that isn't bland, but I am eating and drinking plenty. The air in my stomach is slowly going down as is the swelling throughout my body. My back is feeling better, and the gas pains are much more infrequent.
Please continue to pray that each day brings new accomplishments and encouragement. Every new thing I can do brings me closer to thinking that someday I will actually be able to be home alone with my two boys and be their mom with no help at all. I know that's still a ways off, but each day I feel a bit closer to that goal.
This morning we are taking a field trip. It's time for Isaac's nine month check-up, Elijah's first well-baby appointment, and my post-delivery appointment. We are inundating Dr. G's morning calendar. I'll make sure to update with all of the details including how well Mom and I manage to get the two boys up and in to the hospital. :)
But in the last few days, I am seeing improvements. JB reminds me that it will be two steps forward, one step backward, but that the steps forward are coming.
I can now get in and out of bed completely by myself. It's quite a comedy show, but it is still possible.
While I can't put on my own underwear (*blush*), I can get my sweats on with a good bit of balancing and toe usage.
I can now get in and out of a rocker while holding Elijah. If I am very sore, I set him on the foot stool and hold him there while I stand. But if I am feeling really up to it, I can get up with only one hand for balance.
I can now manage to get the milk out of the bottom shelf of the refrigerator. The first two days, I couldn't get low enough to get it out by myself. It's quite interesting when you are awake, the rest of the house isn't, and you decide to choose what you will eat based on what you can actually reach. But this morning, I chose what I wanted and did it all by myself.
I fed Scrubs yesterday. Okay so it did involve me sort of pouring his kibble into his bowl from a standing position and more of it getting on the floor than into the bowl. I also had to skip the hot water and pumpkin I sometimes add as well. But he really didn't seem to mind. He sat there, as he always does, waiting for the "okay" command that signifies he can eat. It was just like old times.
Sunday, I walked to the bay (about a quarter block). Jeff and Bobbie came by. Bobbie pushed Isaac. Jeff walked Scrubs. Mom K. stayed with Elijah. And I sat on their porch. Jeff had set up some chairs down by the water where the sun was shining, but I couldn't make it that far. But still. It was the first time I had truly been outside in nearly two weeks. It felt so good. JB said I probably pushed it a little. And I was a little more sore the next night from the extra steps, but man it was glorious to be outside, and totally worth it.
My bowels are still working great, and I am eating at each meal. My appetite is still pretty screwed up, and believe it or not, I really have no desire for sweets or anything that isn't bland, but I am eating and drinking plenty. The air in my stomach is slowly going down as is the swelling throughout my body. My back is feeling better, and the gas pains are much more infrequent.
Please continue to pray that each day brings new accomplishments and encouragement. Every new thing I can do brings me closer to thinking that someday I will actually be able to be home alone with my two boys and be their mom with no help at all. I know that's still a ways off, but each day I feel a bit closer to that goal.
This morning we are taking a field trip. It's time for Isaac's nine month check-up, Elijah's first well-baby appointment, and my post-delivery appointment. We are inundating Dr. G's morning calendar. I'll make sure to update with all of the details including how well Mom and I manage to get the two boys up and in to the hospital. :)
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