And Liam Was His Name-O

My BFF's 3 year old daughter can spell her last name. It's seven letters long. And again, she's 3.

That child is so amazingly bright and talented. She is a joy to all who love her. Seriously, there's nothing snarky here, she's just a great kid.

But there are things that she can do that it would never occur to me to expect from Liam. He's the same age, but...come on. The kid's got a unique kind of brain. The things he learns, they take different paths.

It turns out, however, that his capacity for learning goes far beyond my expectations of him. And so, he keeps blowing my mind with things it would never have occurred to me that he might know how to do.

Today at lunch I was trying to work, and (like usual), he was trying to type on the keyboard with me.

"W W W" he said, "wa, wa, wa."

"That's right, W says wa" I answered him with a teensy hint of annoyance. I had things to get done, and I really just wanted him to eat his food and go take a nap. But I don't want to discourage him. I'm excited about his love of letters and numbers.

"Q Q Q" he continued, "qwah qwah qwah."

I was starting to tire slightly of my alphabet lesson, pretty sure I had them mastered over 30 years ago, but was still going along, hoping he'd be done soon, when he completely threw me.

"Liam," he said, "L-I-A-M. Liam."

I think this was something like the face I made:


What?!?
My 3 year old may not be able to spell his last name, but I'm pretty damned excited that he can spell his first name.

Sure, he may think that the main function of my phone is to take his picture. And he's still banging his head against the wall as if it were a job for which he would be paid. But my little boy is learning. And he's learning some things so much faster than we ever expected. I'm so ridiculously proud of him.

We've got to take the wins when we get them. Right? And I think it's important to remember that, special needs or not, we can't underestimate our kids. They're capable of so much more than we realize. And how much more could they do, if they knew how much we believe in them?


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Liam Passes A Test! Sort Of.

Maybe I've mentioned that Liam head bangs.

Not like a rock star or anything. That would be fine.

No. Liam gets mad, frustrated, upset, annoyed, or, you know, finds a hangnail, and bangs his head with great force on whatever is close.

Whatever is close can vary. It could be anything. Like, the wall, a table, the floor, my face.

Oh yeah, I did say my face. Which really hurts, by the way. That child does not hold back.

So, I brought this up to his Pediatrician.

I mean, my kid has a permanent goose-egg on his forehead, and I'd like to know why he's doing this, and how to help him.

I'd also like people to not think I'm hitting him in the head with a hammer or something.

Anyhow, our Doc talked with the Neurosurgeon's Nurse Practitioner, and he ordered a CT and shunt series (which are basically x-rays that show where his shunt is and if everything is copacetic).

Ever dragged a toddler to a hospital from a nap?  If so, I"m really sorry.

The good news was that he'd slept a little, and was not a complete crab-fest.

The bad news was that he still hates CT machines, x-rays, and me for making him do it. And there was not enough sleep to make that okay. Not that there is enough. I'm not sure chloroform would make him comply with people making him lie down on a table to take pictures of his brain.

He's really stubborn like that.

The end result is that we don't know any more than we did before. His fluid levels haven't changed, even though they upped the flow of the shunt in February. INow they want to do a flow study to see if it's draining properly.

They've promised to sedate my toddler for that.

Doesn't that sound fun?

And of course I have mixed feelings. I'm glad there's nothing clearly wrong with the shunt that is causing my sweet boy pain, or anything. I'm also frustrated that it's not something simple that we could see and fix. Because my little Liam is still headbanging.

And still on my face.

On a cuter note, I think we read some of his favorite books 50 times each, and it turns out that he knows some new animals. Like elephant. He's really cute when he says elephant.

And being with his Mama can still make him calm down and be his sweet self again. Eventually. It's comforting to know I still have a little of the magic left.

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Liam's Latest Challenge

Liam had a well child visit, today.

I was able to explain things like, why his hair is so long at this point that it's unruly.

He screams and fights the clippers so hard (and he fights scissors, too, so no one wants to use them on him) that we can't bear to cut it. Also, it hides the big bump on his forehead from where he bangs his head.

Liam is big enough these days. And he's still doing so much better than he could have. After all, he gets up every morning and breathes in and out. He walks, and he even has some words. He doesn't have terrible seizures, or many of the other health problems that other kids with an encephalocele or hydrocephalus often have.

But he failed the developmental test. And in such a way that our Pediatrician wondered if he might also be on the Autism Spectrum.

Now, please don't get me wrong. I don't care if he has Autism. Whatever label best unlocks the tools that will help make his life easier, I'm all for. And there's also a significant chance that the developmental delays are due only to his encephalocele and subsequent hydrocephalus.

But I realized that I see Liam from the bottom up. I look at him from what the worst could have been. So, in my mind, he's a damn Rock Star. And everyone should just say that he's amazing. Which, I realize is not our Pediatrician's job, and yet something she likely would say if I asked her. Because she knows what could have been, too.

The thing is, sometimes I forget that the world will look at him from the top down, from where other kids his age are, and they will see how far behind he is.

So, tomorrow begins the next journey of new doctors visits and evaluations for a whole set of new ideas and treatments that might help him catch up or adapt in whatever ways will be helpful. And I'm equal parts sorry that he needs them, and grateful that they exist.

I don't know that I will ever stop looking at Liam from the bottom up, or being disappointed when I am reminded of what he can't do. Just like I will never stop loving him so much, it hurts, and being so proud of his ruthless determination to do the things he believes are important.

Parenting is full of these push-pull moments. I will do my best to keep embracing gratitude. That said, sometimes it blows that he has to struggle so hard.

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Liam Turns 3

Liam at the Minnesota Children's Museum

I've started writing this post several times now. My baby is three years old today! My baby baby.  I find it hard to express in words what this day means to me.  It's a reminder of all that we went through when he was born.  It's a reminder of how far he has come.  And he has come so far.

Three years ago, my water broke.  At 33 weeks and 6 days pregnant, it was too soon.  Knowing that Liam was going to need surgery, I worried that immaturity would make everything worse, and his recovery harder.

We drove to Abbot Northwestern Hospital, where I was cared for by some of the kindest and most capable professionals in the business.  There are not enough thank-you's in the world for the team of doctors and nurses who talked to me, held my hand, and eased my fear.

It's strange when something so happy is also terrifying.  But the sound that Liam made when he was born, that strong loud wail that let everyone within earshot know that he was a fighter, made me believe instantly, that he was going to be okay.  Not that I was never afraid again, but somewhere deep inside, I believed in him.

His life has not been without challenges.  He works so much harder than other children, without getting quite as far.  But I don't think you can underestimate the power of determination.  And Liam has been determined for longer than he's been able to breath.  Nothing will hold him back, not even the lasting effects of having been born  with an encephalocele.

This year Liam has gotten so much better at walking and moving.  Once he had that down, he began a language explosion.  He's not speaking in sentences yet, but he knows all of our names, and loves singing his favorite songs.  He also loves being read to.  If I end a book, he'll cry until I start it again.  He wants to play and read and sing, at all times, if he can make that happen.

He loves his family, and we love him.  He is our everyday miracle, a gift given to us by Modern Medicine, and those trained to do things that could never have been done before.  Every day with him is a gift.  I wish I could slow it all down to make it last.

Liam

Every once in a while I meet someone, and pretty soon I'm telling Liam's story.  Of course, Liam's story is only in context for us when you know Sarah's story.  So, that's always fun, too.

The subject has left me....sensitive.  The issues of life, termination, the term "incompatible with life" all took on a different meaning when the ideas were no longer theoretical, but real, and happening to me and to my baby.

I'm grateful for supportive friends and family.  I'm grateful for a husband who, after hearing that our child could survive it, had no concerns about loving and accepting the child we got, no matter what his limitations might be.

The first year of Liam had it's own set of challenges.  Everything was new, and there was so much to be done.  There wasn't a lot of time to worry about what was going to happen next, because I was so busy thinking about what was happening right then.

Now we're halfway through year two of Liam.  I love him so much.  His giggles, his skills, the way he loves to snuggle.  He's amazing.  This year, though, this year I see his peers pulling away from him.  They are advancing by leaps and bounds, with new skills all the time.  Meanwhile I'm still trying to get him to say a few words and hoping he'll decide to walk soon.  That can be hard to see.  Also, the realization hit me the other day that between Ciaran and Liam, we may never be child-free.

That was my purpose.  You have kids, you raise them, and eventually they become independent.  But what happens if they don't?  I suppose most people would have thought of that sooner, but to be honest, that never really occurred to me.  How very naive I was.

At the same time, I can't focus on what may be.  I can only address what is happening right now.  And, to be honest, he's doing really well in so many ways.  He is a healthy and happy baby who is working really hard to hit those milestones.

Don't get me wrong.  I don't feel sorry for myself.  I'm not even sure if I'm worried about it.  It's just another one of those times where you look at your future and think that it may not be what you thought it would.  But then, kids are like that.  They don't always want to go along with your plans.

I see these memes all the time on the internet about the strength of Special Needs parents.  I don't know that I'm strong.  But I know I've learned to be flexible.  If I didn't bend to go along with some of the curves life has thrown us, I would have broken.

It's Been A Year

 As I gaze down, I can see that each strand of Liam's blond hair catches the light in our playroom and makes it shine.  How did I end up with a blonde kid?  I promise, we don't have a milkman.

As of today, my little guy can roll over both ways, crawl on his hands and knees, get into and out of a sitting position, pull himself almost all the way up on tables and other stationary objects, and feed himself small pieces of food.

One year ago today, strapped to a surprisingly comfortable table in an operating room, a very talented doctor took my son out of my body for me.  I was filled with equal parts excitement and fear.  His encephalocele looked like something that could be repaired by our renowned neurosurgeon.  But still, his brain was not going to be like other babies, and he was coming six weeks early.  I worried about everything.  Especially the prospect of brain surgery on my premature newborn. But he was a champ.  He recovered from surgery and was home just over two weeks after being born.

Over the past year there have been so many doctor's appointments.  In November there was a second surgery to place a shunt which would drain his cerebral spinal fluid from his ventricles, and manage his hydrocephalus.  It was a complete success, and he was like a different baby afterward.  He started to see, and to recognize faces. He started to laugh at the things we'd do to keep him amused.

He's not necessarily where other babies are at the same age.  His fine motor skills aren't totally up to age level, nor are some of his other skills.  But then, none of my kids have been early bloomer babies.  They've all liked to take their time to do things.  I still worry some, but mostly I'm just overcome with gratitude and love for this incredible little person who is managing to do all these things despite all the differences in his brain.  He works harder to achieve each milestone.  But he concentrates, tries really hard, and then smiles at us.  It melts my heart.

Happy Birthday, Liam.  You completely captured my heart the day you were born, and my love for you has only grown.  You inspire me with your determination to do the things that don't come easily to you.  I'm so glad that you're here, and you're my baby.  I can't wait to see all you'll accomplish in the next year!

Liam Has Surgery

He wasn't gaining much weight. He wasn't keeping much food down.  He seemed to be in pain.  And so, another ultrasound was ordered and we finally heard the words we'd hoped to avoid: Liam needed a shunt.

It was a rough week as I took him to appointments and did my best to prepare myself.  Because I have the best friends in the world, I ended up with very little alone time, and a house full of food.  Then last Friday, Liam had a successful surgery.

He and I came home on Sunday, after two days in the hospital, to find Karina home from college.  Then my parents came Monday from California. They've been here all week for an incredible visit.  I can't explain how much I enjoy watching my children spend time talking to and cuddling with their grandparents.

I may need a week to recover from Thanksgiving and from the stress of Liam's surgery.  Don't get me wrong, I'm so grateful that he is able to get the care he needs.  It's just still stressful to watch my baby have to recover from something else when I just want him to be healthy and happy.

I'm really grateful though.  Grateful for supportive family.  Grateful for friends with their casseroles, hugs, and humor.  Grateful for medical professionals who've gone so far above and beyond for my son.  Grateful for those who know what he needs and how to get it for him.

Happy Thanksgiving

 

Dear Liam

Dear Liam,

When I got the diagnosis that you had an encephalocele, I was really scared.  I thought, once you were born and I'd held you in my arms, I wouldn't be afraid anymore.  I guess I just thought that with the weight of you, would come a feeling of permanence.  Mommies sometimes have ways of kidding themselves.  Because if we didn't, we wouldn't know what to do.

You'll be five months old tomorrow.  You've done so much already.  You've were born premature, had brain surgery, and worked really hard to do the things that other babies do very easily.  But it's been a struggle, and lately you've been fighting too hard.  We're not sure how much you can see, but we know you don't see us.  You eat, but you can't always keep it down.  You're gaining weight very slowly.  You cry a lot more than you did.  We wonder if you hurt.

It's been decided that next Friday, you'll have another surgery.  This one will put a shunt into your brain to let the extra fluid out.  They think it's that fluid that's making you have to work so hard.  I have to be honest, kid, I'm scared again.  I know this is a relatively minor surgery, and I should probably take a deep breath because in a few years you'll be doing things that are probably much more dangerous than this, but I'm your mom so I don't have to be logical or reasonable.

There are a lot of things you're going to learn about me as you grow up.  I'm not afraid to talk to you about anything.  I have a wicked sense of humor and probably rely a little too heavily on sarcasm.  I don't let my kids get away with much.  But most of all, I love you beyond what I can explain with words.  And the day that you are old enough and capable enough to read this, I'm probably going to cry, like I've done when you've hit every milestone.  You're my son, and I'm going to do everything I can to make sure you grow up healthy and happy.  And I'll probably drive you crazy in the process.  I'm pretty sure that's what mom's are for.  I think I read that in the handbook.

So, you just get through this next surgery, and we'll see what comes next.  I promise I'll be there every step of the way.

Love,

Mom

A Little Liam Update

I have to say, being this cute little guy's mom is amazing. It's also a roller coaster of emotions as we seem to resolve some things just in time to worry about new things. The fluid in his brain kept increasing after he came home from the hospital, and a shunt seemed like an inevitability. Then, suddenly, a few weeks ago, it started to resolve, and it looked like he might be out of the woods. Maybe it was just going to take some growth to help stabilize his brain.

Then Dominic and I finally admitted a fear we were having. Liam doesn't look at us. When I say his name, he grins. But if I smile at him...nothing. He can't see me. He doesn't see bright toys, he doesn't track. He does see bright lights, but lighted toys don't interest him. Ophthalmology has decided that he should be seen. But it's non emergent, so it might not be until December or January. In the meantime, I'm trying to provide him with textured toys that he can explore through touch, and lots of sound.

Liam is also having some growth issue. When he was teeny, we were supplementing with fortified breast milk in addition to breastfeeding. It brought him up to the 50th percentile on the growth chart. Then the kids started school, brought home their crud, and Liam got sick, making it hard to nurse due to congestion. He dropped from the 50th percentile, down to the 3rd. My supply dropped, too. It's been six weeks of supplements for him and me, pumping, and doing everything in our power to bring him back up. It's not happening. He's growing and putting on weight, but he's still at the 3rd percentile.

So, our Pediatrician called gastroenterology. See, Liam's been treated for reflux almost since he first came home. That kid spits up like nothing I've ever seen. Gastro seems to think that the pressure in his head is making him spit up too much to be able to really grow and thrive. So, if the fluid doesn't fully resolve, and soon, then he may still need a shunt because it's affecting his ability to eat.

I worry a lot.  Just when I think I can stop, I find something new to worry about. And I still wouldn't trade a single minute of it. I know Liam's here, when other's are not. I can give him a kiss, listen to him coo, and watch him sleep. I don't take that for granted. I can't. I think that's what happens when you know too much. It's the lesson of loss and survival.

 

Busy and Not Apologizing

Usually when I've fallen behind in blogging, I come back and apologize for neglecting my space here. I think I need to stop doing that. I have loved having this blog, but sometimes life just interferes and I have to do other things.

Liam's fluid in his brain....has stabalized! Can you believe it? It's stabilized! I'm trying not to get my hopes up, but they're willing to give him another month. He'll have another ultrasound and best case scenario, he's grown and started reabsorbing some of that cerebrospinal fluid. Worst case scenario, he still needs the shunt but he's had another month to grow and mature so that surgery will be safer.

We've been busy spending time with friends, and as a family. We've gone to the park, we've watched movies, and we've enjoyed just being together. If I were sleeping at night, it would be absolutely perfect. But, hey, sleep is overrated, right? Once he gets the whole side-lying nursing thing, we'll sleep!

So much to talk about, but at least I can put out an "I'm still here" post. I'm still here!

Parenthood

Does anyone remember that movie, with Steve Martin? In it, he loved to daydream about how doing something right would lead to a very successful child while doing something wrong would lead to his kid trying to pick people off from a clock tower. That's a lot of pressure.

I wish I could say I was more like his wife's character who takes her kids as they are and enjoys the ride. Actually, in some ways I am like her. I do love being my kids mom, and it's often one hell of a ride. But I also worry a lot. I really want things to work out for them.

When I was younger I worried that I wouldn't be able to have kids. Now I just worry that I'll completely screw them up. What's even more frustrating is that all the factors aren't totally under my control.

Liam had a doctors appointment today. Several actually.

They showed me a series of ultrasound images of the ventricles of Liam's brain. They're still growing.

They're going to do one more ultrasound next week, and then plan a shunt surgery.

I know that there are stories of mom's whose kids face medical issues, and they just take each bump in the road like it's no big deal. They just keep moving forward, focusing on their child, and never complaining that things haven't gone as they would have wished.

I'm not that mom either.

The doctor kept saying, "This isn't a big deal" when I'd finally had it. For me, this is a big deal! This is my baby. They may do this every day, but I don't! This is another surgery, for an infant, that I hoped he'd never need.

For them, because it's routine and won't affect his development or potential development, it's really not a big deal. But since I'd really hoped that taking of the encephalocele meant that everything would be fine, it's a reminder that the road has only just begun.

I'm trying to remember that Liam's writing a really good story so far, one where the hero has already beaten so many odds. But he's my baby. So for me, it's a story filled with suspense. It's like Parenthood, only mixed with heavy dose of Fear.

 

Living On The Edge

As I type this, sweet little Liam is asleep on my chest. We brought him home on Tuesday, and to be honest, I hardly put him down for about 24 hours. I was so happy to finally have him home where he belongs, I just didn't want him anywhere but with me.

Sometimes I get brave. After finding out that there are You Tube videos about encephalocele's, I went to watch some. Now, here is my baby in my arms, and they still managed to scare me. As if it could come back and still steal him away.  He's done so well, I think I sometimes let myself forget how many babies are diagnosed with this, and don't make it.

I was told that I might wonder, why me? Why Liam? Why this? And knowing that one of Sarah's diagnoses was encephalocele, I certainly have wondered how this could happen to us twice. But I don't think, why me, with regards to the diagnosis. I think, why me, when I think of him being here in my arms. Alive.

Why did we get to keep our baby? Why does he seem to be okay? I'm not looking for anything to change, mind you. Sometimes I just can't believe we've been so lucky. He's here, growing, and getting stronger, and I'm so overwhelmed by gratitude.

I have so much blogging to catch up on. But for today I'm just going to say a giant Thank You to the Universe, the Gods, and all of those who've thought of us.

Children's

First of all, my apologies. I thought I would start blogging again on Monday, when I got access to the network here that allowed me access. Instead I got all caught up in the hospital routine. Most of which involves pumping, cares for Liam, feeding, and playing Oregon Trail on Facebook. It's exhausting. The pumping and all, not the Facebook thing.

Anywho, this has been a very different experience for me than any other time I've had a pre-term baby. Probably because I didn't just have a run-of-the-mill pre-termer. I had a baby with a rare neural tube defect. And, just so we're clear because I haven't typed it out yet today, I still think that blows. Of course, it doesn't blow as hard as other things, so I keep counting my blessings as opposed to railing against the unfairness of it all.

Having a baby at Children's hospital is also whole different ballgame. I see kids who are sick here. I meet moms seeing their babies through heart surgeries, cancer, and a whole host of other illnesses. We've become like prisoners, looking across the table at dinner, asking each other, "Hey, what are you in for?" and commiserating as we hear another mother's fear and hope. I've talked to a mom about a shunt for her baby, since if Liam's fluid in his ventricles doesn't improve, he may need one (ultrasound is tomorrow, and I'll update, I promise). She and I ended up discussing all the wonderful possible side effects of neural tube defects. Her baby has spina bifida so she knows.  She's been playing this game for a few months longer than I have.

I've found that I'm getting kind of surprised by people having healthy babies, and taking them home. That happens? Seriously? But of course I know it does. I've seen it. I've experienced it. It's just not really the norm here. I'm counting the days till I go home and start the waiting game. Is he really okay? How many neurologists will we have to see? Pediatricians? Will I freak out if he catches a cold? I know it was naive, but I really thought I'd stop worrying when he was born and had his surgery. I should have known better. When do you ever stop worrying about your kid?

We're lucky, Liam's a fighter and we have decided that the doctors aren't really going to be able to tell his story. He's got to write it himself. We hope he continues to surprise everyone.

Not everyone is as lucky as we are.  So, if you're the praying kind, keep these families in your prayers tonight. Think of them as you light a candle, or a stick of incense. Send thoughts of healing and peace. Whatever you do. In the grand scheme of things, I know we're taking Liam home, and a lot of other parents are fighting much harder than we are for their kids tonight.

Baby Liam Is Born: Recovery

Continued from Baby Liam Is Born: Delivery

After Liam was born and I had been repaired, I was moved to a gurney and taken to a recovery room to be monitored for an hour. There they did the things that they do after any surgery. They monitored my vital signs and gave me pain meds. They were giving me small doses of Fentanyl through my IV and that was working pretty well. After the hour was up, I was taken over to Children's to see Liam.

When I got there, he was all arranged in his bed. He looked so tiny and lost in all that bedding and under the big bright lights of the NICU. I loved seeing him, but I wanted to cry at the same time. In a hospital bed is really never the way anyone wants to see their baby.

He was turned away from me, and I couldn't even see his face. It sounded like he was crying softly, but the nurse explained that he was grunting, as he worked to breathe. But they weren't doing anything about his respiration. Despite the grunting, he was breathing well and keeping his ozygen saturation high. I was with him just long enough to get the run-down on the plan for him and learn that his weight was really only 4lbs. 14 oz, still a good size for a baby his age, and then I was taken back to my post-partum room.

Now this is where having a morphine allergy starts to seriously blow. Normally, the morphine in the spinal block would continue to provide pain relief long after the surgery. But since I couldn't get that, I was starting to have a lot of pain. They gave me Demerol IV push, and that gave me about 45 minutes of coverage. I could only have it every 6 hours.

This was starting to look bad for me.

Thankfully, my nurses were angels, and called to get orders for a patient controlled analgesic pump, or PCA. That provided me small doses of Fentanyl up to every six minutes and with that, I could start to stay ahead of the pain. One of the nurses finally told me to stop trying to stretch it out, but hit the button every six minutes until I could sleep. Sometime around midnight I finally crashed.

Sleep can be Bliss.

At 5 am I woke up for vital signs and to try to get up. Now, I hadn't pushed that little button the PCA pump in five hours, so quickly pushed it, but I only had time to do it once. Then the nurse tries to help me out of bed for the first time.

I don't have words to describe the pain. Scratch that. I do have words, but they're inappropriate for a blog my mother can read.

By the second step, I was crying out loud and the nurse put me back to bed. Which, to be honest, was as excruciating as getting out of it. Of course my first question for my nurse was, "When can we try that again?"  Not that I'm a masochist.  Seriously, I'm so not.  I just know that the quicker you can get out of bed and get moving, the sooner you start to really recover.  And I would really like to get better.

I tried again at 10 am, after a lot more pain medication through the PCA. It was painful, but it was manageable. And it meant I could get my catheter out, get my IV out, switch to oral meds, and best of all I could go see my baby.

Over the last few days I've recovered slowly. I took for granted how much my abdominal muscles for.  Recovery has been painful.  But overall, a c-section wasn't as bad as I'd thought it would be. I'm still having some swelling around my incision, and I'm still struggling to balance pain meds, but I'm getting better. And I may be rushing it a bit, since I want to be able to take care of Liam.

And Liam's progress is another post.

To Be Continued...

Baby Liam Is Born: Delivery

Continued From Baby Liam Is Born: Labor

Before they took me back to the OR, the doctor had to make sure I knew what to expect. I told her that I belonged to a message board where I'd asked for tips, tricks, and information from mom's who'd been there, done that. When she found out what I'd learned, she was actually kind of impressed. Usually women get nothing but horror stories. I got real information that would help me be prepared. Then she informed me that she would likely need to perform a classical incision into the uterus. That means that instead of a small incision across the bottom of my uterus, she'd need to do a long cut vertically in order to have plenty of room to get Liam out safely with his encephalocele. I hadn't really thought about that, but it seemed reasonable. Low horizontal cuts don't offer as much room to pull baby out.

Then the anesthesiologist came by. She and her nurse would be in charge of my spinal block and drugs during the surgery. Because I have an allergy to morphine, I couldn't have it in my block. But I'd still get fentanyl.  I'd have good coverage for the delivery, but I wouldn't have the continued pain control that Morphine offers.  I also learned from my anesthesiologist (who looked about my age, and was thin and well caffeinated, so she told me) that I'm not crazy to think that fried pickles and a haagan-daas milk shake from SmashBurger is awesome. She said the Minnesota State Fair has the best food of any state fair. With very good fried pickles. I'm also not supposed to tell anyone that a doctor encouraged me to eat that food. So, everyone quiet, okay?

I was moved to a labor/delivery room and brought the proper consents to sign from my nurse Jari (who was freaking awesome). The perinatologist returned to say she would definitely need to do the classical incision. I was okay with that. She told me what the risks were associated with a surgical birth. I told her that I trusted her. After all, she'd done this a couple of times, right? Sure, she told me. She's even allowed to do it by herself now! Awesome.

I think we might have been a bit too deadpan. Dominic got scared that she'd really only done a c-section a couple of times. He was now very uncomfortable with this doctor cutting me open.  I had to assure him that in a specialty like perinatology, she'd done many many c-sections. In fact, I think she'd been doing them all day. they had several scheduled and several surprise sections before I got there. Hence the reason everyone was so well caffeinated, and warmed up. I preferred "warmed up" to "burned out" and it seemed to be more accurate. My team was awesome.

Around 5pm Dominic was given his scrubs and I was taken back to the OR for my spinal. The OR was smaller than I expected, and attached to a small room full of NICU equipment. I was positioned on the table, and talked to while I got the spinal block. A spinal, by the way, is so much easier to get when you're not between excruciatingly painful contractions. It was over very quickly and they had me on my back getting prepped.

Everyone was very upbeat and talkative. We discussed Liam, and families, and all sorts of things. Then Dominic was brought in and they got started!

I didn't get the shakes, cold, or nauseated. I'm very grateful. I could feel my body being moved around, pulled on, and tugged at. And then we heard it: the cry. Liam cried loud, strong, and hard. He headed straight for the NICU room off the OR and Dominic went with him. They continued on with me, rinsing, suctioning, and sewing me up.

Then they brought Liam to me, and he was still crying. I kissed his head and talked to him, at which point, he started to calm down and listen. Smart boy, knowing to listen to his Mama. After all, I'm the lady with the food. His head was all wrapped up in a turban, but I was told he had lots of dark hair. As quickly as he'd come, he was gone again. Off to Children's Hospital next door, with Daddy following along.  And of course, I was totally in love.

They finished stitching me up, and before I knew it I was all done, and on a gurney headed for recovery. My baby was here, and he was beautiful. I already missed him, but was grateful that his birth had been so uneventful. In the OR he'd weighed in at 5 lbs. So, I knew he was a good size for his age. Now I just wanted him back in my arms where he belonged.

To Be Continued...

Baby Liam Is Born: Labor

It was a really nice day. It was Dominic's second day off and his plan was to let me rest for. I had been feeling "off" for a day or so. No big contractions, but I just didn't feel right. I planned to take advantage of Dominic's plan and practice some serious bed rest.

Silly me, I thought I might feel better with a shower. So, I got up to take one. After my shower, I was standing in the bathroom when I felt a pop, and I felt the water go. I yelled for Dominic who knew immediately what happened. He walked in on me, still leaking and calling for a towel and a baby diaper.

I got dressed, cleaned up the mess I made, and called the doctor's office. They called the hospital to let them know I was coming and then called me back to let me know not to eat or drink.

How did they know I wanted to eat? They ruined my plan. But then again, I hadn't eaten since 9 am and my water broke at noon. I needed to be without food or drink for six hours before my c-section and I was already halfway there.

I packed my bag, called my Sonya, and updated Facebook. (Yes, I over-share, and I'm a geek.)

Once Sonya came to stay with the kids, I put on a second diaper, I'm very cool aren't I? And then we were off to the hospital. Dominic got to eat something.  I was jealous.

At the hospital I was supposed to be checked to verify rupture of membranes. A lot of pregnant women just wet their pants. And, honestly, with my first child, I did too. But this was not my first go around. When the nurse saw me pull out a fully soaked second diaper, she didn't doubt that I knew what I was talking about. She was also kind of impressed. I guess some women don't do anything, and just ruin the upholstery in their car.

I quickly found myself in a room, hooked up to the monitors, and contracting regularly. Things got moving for a c-section. The doctor came in to talk to me. While I knew that I was 34 weeks, their count was a bit off from mine and they considered me 33 weeks and 6 days. Usually before 34 weeks, they try to stop labor, and even with ruptured membranes, will let you stay ruptured and just watch for infection, trying to buy more time until 34 weeks.

But I was already contracting, and they didn't want me to end up in full blown labor and not have time to do the surgery. Not when, by their calendar, I was 12 hours away from 34 weeks. The section was then scheduled for 5 pm. And I was grateful. He was coming.

I might have been a bit nervous too. But a girl's allowed, right?

To Be Continued...

I'm Still Pregnant

This is not me now.  This was a picture I took at 29 weeks pregnant with Brennan.  

Dear Liam,

I love you so much.  I've loved you since you surprised me with a positive pregnancy test.  I loved you when I first noticed that I was growing bigger after losing 50 pounds.  I loved you when I felt you move for the first time.  I loved you when they told me you had an encephalocele.  But, I was very scared.

You are such a strong little boy.  Somehow you've managed to beat all the odds.  I wonder if you will be as fearless on the outside as I imagine you are on the inside.  I think I imagine that you're so fearless since, like I said, I've been so scared.  

You've continued to grow and thrive and do absolutely everything we've asked of you.  So now, I have a few more requests.  Listen carefully.  

• Please stop making my uterus contract.  It's too soon, and it's exhausting.  Not to mention unnecessary.  You're being born via c-section.
• Please stop hitting me in sensitive areas.  My cervix is not for punching, and my bladder is not a trampoline.  
• Please wait at least another week to be born.  35 weeks is even better than 34 weeks.  Not only will you have beaten Brennan in the who-can-stay-in-Mommy-longer contest (and how often will you get to one up your older brother?) but by then your sister Karina will be here, and I won't have to ask so many people to come and help us.  
• Please sleep when I do.  I'm getting dark circles under my eyes because I'm so uncomfortable and you apparently think there's a circus whenever I lie down.
• Please calm down when I move, and move when I sit still.  This is how the other fetuses do it.  You can too.  

Please come out and be okay.  I know you can get through surgery without frightening me anymore.  Right?  Right!

I love you and I'm excited to meet you.  I can't wait to see your fingers and toes and look you in the eyes and see you for everything you are.  I'm sad that I won't get to keep you with me every second and bring you right home to the family that will love you as much as I do.  But I'm so glad that such good people are going to take care of you.  And I won't be far away.  

Love,

Mommy

Random Updates...

First of all, I've noticed that I seem to have a lot of new followers. So, please let me take a moment to say thank you for checking out my blog and supporting it with your readership. It really is nice to know that someone reads what I write. To be honest, I write for myself in that I write about what I think is interesting or about my family, but at the same time, I don't like the idea that I'm just here talking to myself, if that makes sense.

Secondly, I've started a Caring Bridge Page for Liam upon the advice of the Social worker I spoke with today at the hospital where he is to be born. I'm counting down the weeks here, people. I think he's actually going to come into the world sometime soon whether I like it or not! I go back and forth between excited and scared. But hey, that's just parenthood right there. So, check out the links at the top of the blog and I'll be sure to post here when I update over there, but that's where all the information will be centralized from here on out.

Now, just to get it out of my system, say it with me, "Encephaloceles are bullshit. Modern Medicine rocks!"

Aw, thanks guys, you're the best!

And finally, Congratulations to MrsB of Confessions of a Pagan Soccer Mom, who has officially won the Faith Blogs contest over at Circle of Moms.  While it was discouraging at first to see it become the Christians vs. the Pagans, I was amazed at how much support was ultimately given by both Christian and Pagan alike to the idea that women, regardless of faith, deserve to be treated with kindness and respect.

Adventures In Pregnancy

I'm ready for there to be less adventure in my pregnancy. Tuesday afternoon I started noticing some contractions. By about 4 pm they were coming regularly and some of them hurt. Then I noticed the bloody show. Fabulous. Off the the hospital I went to be checked out. The doctor found me a fingertip dilated, with a soft cervix, and a "bulging lower segment" to my uterus. She said she could feel Liam turning his head. And now my contractions were coming every 5-6 minutes. She immediately put me on Magnesium Sulfate and had me transferred to the hospital where I will ultimately deliver.

After the drive with the cute Nurse (he wants to have 10 kids and a farm) I was installed in a new room, with a new IV (the old one had infiltrated) and was hovered over by a new doctor.

Thankfully for me, I adjusted quickly to the Mag Sulfate, and it really worked. The contractions went away. Instead of having to stay on the Mag for 3 days, I managed to only be on it for a little over 1 day. I also got the steroids to help mature Liam's lungs, should he decide to come early after all. These are all good things.

Now I'm back home on modified bedrest and oral medication. So far, so good. But this staying off my feet business is really hard.

My goal is to cook this guy a little longer. The only thing he should have to get through is surgery! Hear that, Liam? Relax!

Blessing His Way

"Hi, my name is Anne, and I have a gazillion children."

"Hi, Anne"

Okay, my Blessingway wasn't really like that, but I've had fun trying to explain what it was or what one is.

I have had more than my fair share of babies. I don't need a high chair or a crib or a lot of the other things you might get at a shower. What I need is the love and support of my friends and family as I head toward the end of my pregnancy. That's what a Blessingway gives you.

So yesterday, the Bestie threw me a Blessingway. Friends came, there was food and chat, and I came away with several special things to take with me as I (with the help of the surgeon and medical team) bring Liam into the world.

My Sonya, looking at the picture above, had a fantastic idea of doing a henna art piece on my gigantic pregnant belly. Um, we had trouble finding henna. Even the Indian grocery store that I was sure carried it, managed to disappear since the last time I was there. But my Sonya is not a quitter! She grabbed her colored eye liner pencils and sent the teenage girls to decorate me. This is what I got:

I love those girls.  To be honest, I think the henna may only work on those cute little first time mom bellies.  I, however, have an I've-gained-50-pounds belly covered in stretch marks from babies past.  This is as pretty as it gets, folks.  

My friends brought beads to make me a bracelet that will go with me to the hospital and remind me of the love and strength that go with both Liam and me.  They made me a book with bits of love and good wishes, and they decorated onsies too.  I have to say, there were many clever and artistic people.  But I do have a fondness for the one I made for my son:

I love Mommy, Daddy, & Riding in the Tardis

Yes, we are that geek family. 

I owe a huge thank you to my Bestie for making the day happen, her family for helping her, and the people who've poured out their love and support to Liam and me.  You all know that this pregnancy brought some unexpected surprises, not the least of which was that he was expected at all.  I know the hardest fight for Liam is still ahead, and as his Mommy, it's going to scare me, even if he does as well as I hope.  All the care I've been shown has been a real strength to me, and I'm very grateful for it.