Today is the day. Was supposed to be the day, anyway. Only five percent of babies are born on their due dates. Lily's already gone, so no sighing when today comes and goes and I still have a huge belly to "sleep" around tonight. I wish I could rewind to the day I saw her tiny arms waving during her ultrasound. To the day our children's faces lit up at the thought of another baby. If only I could enjoy again those brief moments before we lost her. To rewind and not feel this pain.
Things are back to normal around here. However, it is not the same normal. After a tragedy, the old normal is never felt again. The same is true of any major experience. My life has to accommodate this change and all the pain, lessons, and inconveniences that go with it. It is a "process," it does "take time," but in the meantime, a new normal is constructed for survival.
We have a new normal and a new reality. Our baby plans have been pushed back. I am not having a baby girl, our last child, this March at the age of 36. We still want to go for another baby, because we are nuts. So, I will be pregnant this summer. I won't be able to paint and vacations must be considered. I have to wait another several months to find out if my daughter will finally have to share her room or if my oldest boy will get his own room. I will be another year older when our last Sullivan arrives.
These inconveniences won't mean anything when we finally hold that last little baby in our arms. The nine months we have to wait will be scary and tiring. Morning sickness and fatigue, etc. Before every ob appointment, I will be holding my breath until the heartbeat is heard or until the tiny image appears, moving, on the ultrasound screen. I wish I could fast-forward.
At the same time I wish to rewind and fast-forward, but we all know we have to enjoy life in the moment. The cliches are all true. Our children grow up in the blink of an eye. I have to remind myself daily to enjoy them now. So I smell the baby shampoo in my toddler's hair as he hugs his "Melmo," see my school-agers pretending to be spies with all their homemade gadgets, watch my husband squeezing our four-year-old who is giggling only as four-year-olds can. Pause.
Showing posts with label babyhood. Show all posts
Showing posts with label babyhood. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Thursday, January 21, 2010
Do You Like Sugar?
All morning the kids were waiting to open their presents.
Waiting so patiently.First, everyone had to get up. Then they had to eat breakfast. Then Daddy needed to run out for one last forgotten gift.
Finally, we were ready. Each cherub had his presents neatly stacked in front of him. Their fingers were posed for ripping.
Wait- where's the baby? We need to go find E.E. He's been way too quiet, and we know that isn't good.
Where was E.E. when everyone else was thinking about Littlest Pet Shop and Bakugan, I mean, the birth of Jesus?
This is where he was. Putting syrup on his giant table pancake and licking it off.
Emily: "Do you like sugar?"Buddy the Elf: "Is there sugar in syrup?"
Emily: "Yes."
Buddy the Elf: "Then yes!"
He had syrup all over him, the table, and the floor. Guess what kiddies? Now we have to give him a bath. So, just a while longer before presents, OK? Sure, Mommy. We were just sitting here thanking the lord for the baby Jesus and discussing the wise men's gift choices. No rush.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Things to Get "Into"
Morning snack.
You think you are think you're boss of the laundry?I'M boss of the laundry!
What? You won't let me have a real car.
Hey, I'm top-rack only!
Did I do that?
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Paging Dr. House
This past spring break my family and I traveled to the Midwest to visit relatives. We planned on celebrating Easter and our baby's first birthday there as well. We were going to be staying with my in-laws for about a week. About the third day in, I was visiting my mother with the kiddies. My mom had a windmill she was planning on installing in her yard, but it was sitting in her family room. She moved it to the spare bedroom so that my brood wouldn't hurt themselves on it. Irony came along, and while my mom was carrying the baby, E.E., she tripped on said windmill. She fell with E.E. in her arms, and he softly hit his head on the floor. He did cry for a while, but appeared normal the rest of the afternoon. That was that, or so we thought.
Later on that evening, I was back at my in-laws' house. E.E. became irritable. I chalked it up to teething, lack of sleep, and being in a strange place. Then he started crying if he were ever standing for a long time (E. E. had just learned to pull up to things and stand there, but he couldn't stand on his own, cruise, or walk yet). He would cry and then collapse onto his bottom eventually. Then he would stand again and be fine for awhile. I thought this was strange, but again I attributed it to tiredness. Then stork-boy appeared. E.E. started standing on just one leg like a stork. I began to worry in earnest.
I called my mom and asked her if she thought his leg could have gotten hurt in the fall. She said he didn't hit his leg on the floor, but she was holding him so tight, maybe he jammed his leg against her body. We considered this a possible solution to the stork-boy mystery.
I noticed when I changed E.E.'s diaper, he winced. As I would pull his left leg down to straighten him out he would cry. I felt up and down his leg, testing it. He didn't seem to mind me touching his leg at any spot. He did mind when I pulled the leg. I also noticed he tended to keep the leg curled up to the side when on his back (he looked like he was doing a pirouette). I got the idea that maybe he had gas. I know sometimes babies pull their legs up when they have painful gas. This next part will later make me slap myself. I began to pull his leg up into his stomach. This made him cry out in pain, but I thought, "This always helps with the gas. It's for your own good little buddy."
I debated with the in-laws (my husband, Big Daddy, was actually in San Francisco on business and would be meeting us later) as to whether I should take the little guy in to the ER or not. He is my fifth baby; my first born would already be in his car seat en route to the hospital. Also, my family has what we call the "hospital tour" going on. We have been to so many medical facilities across the U.S., (we should really be experts on the state of our nation's hospital care), and we try to avoid adding another hospital to our tour if we can help it. Stay tuned for more medical misadventures.
Anyway, I decided he would be fine until morning, when I would then take him to an urgent-care center for $50 (instead of the ER for $100) if he was still acting like stork-boy. He was completely fine when he wasn't standing or having his diaper changed, so how bad off could he be?
Flash forward to 1 AM, 2 AM, 3 AM, 4 AM... he was waking and crying about every hour. Jeepers, is this a mini-version of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button? He was turning into a newborn again. Needless to say, I was regretting my decision to forgo the e.r. I almost drove him there at 1 AM, 2 AM... I kept thinking, "I've been through this before. We've had gas that kept us up," but this was more intense. My poor baby. He had a fracture. A concussion. His leg was disintegrating. He swallowed a Lite Brite piece, and now it was puncturing his intestines. I actually believed that last one was a possibility. The older ones were playing with the Lite Brite...
Morning intruded on the little wisp of sleep I had gotten. I left the older kiddies with their grandparents and headed to the urgent care. Blood was drawn. X-rays were taken. E.E. was poked and prodded. The doc thought it could be osteomyelitis, a hip infection which usually follows an illness. E.E. was recovering from a cold. If that was the case, he would be fine in a few days. That was not the case. His blood work showed high inflammation and white blood cell count and some other mumbo jumbo indicative of a bacterial infection. He was referred to an orthopedic doctor who came back with E.E.'s blood work results, freaking out. He feared E.E. had a septic hip and he needed to get it treated ASAP or the joint could start to deteriorate. Oh yay. We were then sent to Riley Children's Hospital, in Indianapolis, about an hour away.
Oh, by the way, did I mention:
*my hubby was still out of town- so I'd be doing this alone
* my cell phone decided to quit working, and I couldn't even call my in-laws
*I was supposed to be picking up aforementioned hubby at the airport later that day
*this day was E.E.'s first birthday, and I had a half-iced cake at the house
E.E. was admitted on his birthday and given an I.V. line. Instead of cake he got needles. That was a blast, especially for poor E.E. Little tiny baby veins. I finally suggested they put the line in his head where huge veins were popping out all over the place as he wailed. They took my advice! Once he was "plugged in" (that's what it looked like- he had a power outlet on his head) antibiotics were given. Then more tests were done. To make it more stressful, E.E. developed a fever. A high fever. His dad finally arrived from his business trip. We wrung our hands in mutual worry.
E.E. was knocked out and fluid was drawn from his hip. Not septic. He had an MRI. Hip had no inflammation. Not the hip causing him to be stork boy. However, inflammation was shown in the lower leg. A "toddler fracture" was suspected. Sometimes these don't show up on x-rays right away. A bone scan was ordered.
So far, we had been in the hospital for three days. We were already a day late getting back to Georgia; the older kids had to get back to school and Big Daddy had work. We decided that the older kids and Big Daddy would head back home tomorrow. I would come with the younger ones when E.E. recovered from the mystery stork disease. The next day, off they went.
They had been gone half a day, when E. E. miraculously started standing on his leg again. He hadn't even had the bone scan yet. I convinced the docs to let us go home. We would follow up with his pediatrician there.
E.E. had another x-ray back in Georgia. It showed no fracture. Finally, a pediatric orthopedic doctor we were referred to determined that he had a bone infection. The course of treatment would be six weeks of squirting foul liquids into baby's mouth (antibiotics). Seriously, his meds smelled like a pet store.
Six weeks later, E.E. showed no signs of any leg pain. It was never fully verified that he had a bone infection, but that was most likely what it was. No one could tell us why he got the infection, but all the docs said that it is usually unknown why babies and young children get them. It may have had something to do with the fall he had with Grandma or it may not have.
The doctors, nurses, and staff were wonderful at Riley. Nice, helpful, patient, and they knew what they were doing (with the exception of one intern who was none of the above). I was so grateful; like I said, I've been in a lot of hospitals, and E.E. could've had worse.
I was also grateful that my baby turned out to be fine in the end. Seeing all the much sicker children around the hospital made me count my blessings.
Later on that evening, I was back at my in-laws' house. E.E. became irritable. I chalked it up to teething, lack of sleep, and being in a strange place. Then he started crying if he were ever standing for a long time (E. E. had just learned to pull up to things and stand there, but he couldn't stand on his own, cruise, or walk yet). He would cry and then collapse onto his bottom eventually. Then he would stand again and be fine for awhile. I thought this was strange, but again I attributed it to tiredness. Then stork-boy appeared. E.E. started standing on just one leg like a stork. I began to worry in earnest.
I called my mom and asked her if she thought his leg could have gotten hurt in the fall. She said he didn't hit his leg on the floor, but she was holding him so tight, maybe he jammed his leg against her body. We considered this a possible solution to the stork-boy mystery.
I noticed when I changed E.E.'s diaper, he winced. As I would pull his left leg down to straighten him out he would cry. I felt up and down his leg, testing it. He didn't seem to mind me touching his leg at any spot. He did mind when I pulled the leg. I also noticed he tended to keep the leg curled up to the side when on his back (he looked like he was doing a pirouette). I got the idea that maybe he had gas. I know sometimes babies pull their legs up when they have painful gas. This next part will later make me slap myself. I began to pull his leg up into his stomach. This made him cry out in pain, but I thought, "This always helps with the gas. It's for your own good little buddy."
I debated with the in-laws (my husband, Big Daddy, was actually in San Francisco on business and would be meeting us later) as to whether I should take the little guy in to the ER or not. He is my fifth baby; my first born would already be in his car seat en route to the hospital. Also, my family has what we call the "hospital tour" going on. We have been to so many medical facilities across the U.S., (we should really be experts on the state of our nation's hospital care), and we try to avoid adding another hospital to our tour if we can help it. Stay tuned for more medical misadventures.
Anyway, I decided he would be fine until morning, when I would then take him to an urgent-care center for $50 (instead of the ER for $100) if he was still acting like stork-boy. He was completely fine when he wasn't standing or having his diaper changed, so how bad off could he be?
Flash forward to 1 AM, 2 AM, 3 AM, 4 AM... he was waking and crying about every hour. Jeepers, is this a mini-version of The Curious Case of Benjamin Button? He was turning into a newborn again. Needless to say, I was regretting my decision to forgo the e.r. I almost drove him there at 1 AM, 2 AM... I kept thinking, "I've been through this before. We've had gas that kept us up," but this was more intense. My poor baby. He had a fracture. A concussion. His leg was disintegrating. He swallowed a Lite Brite piece, and now it was puncturing his intestines. I actually believed that last one was a possibility. The older ones were playing with the Lite Brite...
Morning intruded on the little wisp of sleep I had gotten. I left the older kiddies with their grandparents and headed to the urgent care. Blood was drawn. X-rays were taken. E.E. was poked and prodded. The doc thought it could be osteomyelitis, a hip infection which usually follows an illness. E.E. was recovering from a cold. If that was the case, he would be fine in a few days. That was not the case. His blood work showed high inflammation and white blood cell count and some other mumbo jumbo indicative of a bacterial infection. He was referred to an orthopedic doctor who came back with E.E.'s blood work results, freaking out. He feared E.E. had a septic hip and he needed to get it treated ASAP or the joint could start to deteriorate. Oh yay. We were then sent to Riley Children's Hospital, in Indianapolis, about an hour away.
Oh, by the way, did I mention:
*my hubby was still out of town- so I'd be doing this alone
* my cell phone decided to quit working, and I couldn't even call my in-laws
*I was supposed to be picking up aforementioned hubby at the airport later that day
*this day was E.E.'s first birthday, and I had a half-iced cake at the house
E.E. was admitted on his birthday and given an I.V. line. Instead of cake he got needles. That was a blast, especially for poor E.E. Little tiny baby veins. I finally suggested they put the line in his head where huge veins were popping out all over the place as he wailed. They took my advice! Once he was "plugged in" (that's what it looked like- he had a power outlet on his head) antibiotics were given. Then more tests were done. To make it more stressful, E.E. developed a fever. A high fever. His dad finally arrived from his business trip. We wrung our hands in mutual worry.
E.E. was knocked out and fluid was drawn from his hip. Not septic. He had an MRI. Hip had no inflammation. Not the hip causing him to be stork boy. However, inflammation was shown in the lower leg. A "toddler fracture" was suspected. Sometimes these don't show up on x-rays right away. A bone scan was ordered.
So far, we had been in the hospital for three days. We were already a day late getting back to Georgia; the older kids had to get back to school and Big Daddy had work. We decided that the older kids and Big Daddy would head back home tomorrow. I would come with the younger ones when E.E. recovered from the mystery stork disease. The next day, off they went.
They had been gone half a day, when E. E. miraculously started standing on his leg again. He hadn't even had the bone scan yet. I convinced the docs to let us go home. We would follow up with his pediatrician there.
E.E. had another x-ray back in Georgia. It showed no fracture. Finally, a pediatric orthopedic doctor we were referred to determined that he had a bone infection. The course of treatment would be six weeks of squirting foul liquids into baby's mouth (antibiotics). Seriously, his meds smelled like a pet store.
Six weeks later, E.E. showed no signs of any leg pain. It was never fully verified that he had a bone infection, but that was most likely what it was. No one could tell us why he got the infection, but all the docs said that it is usually unknown why babies and young children get them. It may have had something to do with the fall he had with Grandma or it may not have.
The doctors, nurses, and staff were wonderful at Riley. Nice, helpful, patient, and they knew what they were doing (with the exception of one intern who was none of the above). I was so grateful; like I said, I've been in a lot of hospitals, and E.E. could've had worse.
I was also grateful that my baby turned out to be fine in the end. Seeing all the much sicker children around the hospital made me count my blessings.
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