I want to apologize for any spelling and grammar errors in yesterday's post from my husband. I did not know how to copy and paste his Word document, so I typed it up quickly, spell-checked and posted. I should have been more thorough. So I have reposted his post, since I now know how to copy and paste into blogspot. (I just want the world to know he is very smart!)
Happy reading!
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Monday, June 27, 2011
Why?
This post is coming to you from Jennifer's husband. Jennifer asked me to write this to illustrate my point of view to her readers. I want to start out by saying that sharing personal experiences with strangers is not my strong suit (one of many differences between Jennifer and I), but I will do what I can to get my point across.
When our saga started, I met Jennifer at the hospital and my head was spinning. I didn't know what to say or do, so I said very little (running my mouth when I am overwhelmed is not my strong suit either). The first day I provided hand holding, back rubbing, phone calls to mom, etc. I pretty much let the doctors to their thing and tried to stay calm and out of the way. A hysterical husband is the last thing that Jennifer or the doctors needed. The doctors actually did a pretty good job of staying calm themselves and making sure that we we knew exactly what they were doing and why there were doing it. My opinion of the doctor that laid it all out there for us is a little different than Jennifer's. This lady was matter-of-fact, straight to the point, and did not waste any words (my kind of woman). I did not know anything about having a premature child (or any child for that matter) and she gave me a 10 minute crash course on the risks and what we should expect. I appreciated the fact that she did not sugar coat anything, and left very little to the imagination. When people start dancing around details, I naturally imagine that these details will affect me in a negative way. I was able to wrap my mind around some of the scary things she was telling us and strangely enough it made me feel better.
Even though the first day was hard, it went quickly. The next four weeks were more of a marathon (distance running is not my strong suit either). It was a slow grind and I spent most of my time at work or the hospital. I was staying every other night in the hospital, taking turns with my mother-in-law (eternally grateful for her). Consequently, I was only sleeping every other night. I'm a light sleeper to begin with and a constant stream of nurses in and out and the un-rhythmic noises of monitoring equipment ensured that I would never sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. My point here is that I spent the next month being TIRED and worried. At the same time, Jennifer was forced to sit in bed all day and do nothing but worry (100 times worse than my situation). The question that she asked me several times per day every day was: Why? Why is this happening to me? What did I do wrong? Why am I spending my maternity leave sitting in this hospital without my baby? Of course I didn't know the answers to these specific questions. All I knew is that "I don't know" was not an acceptable answer. I also knew that my girl needs constant reassurance (one of the many nuances of Jennifer), so that is what I did. My answer to the question was always the same: "Because this is the way it was meant to be and once all is said and done everything will be just fine. Everything happens for a reason and someday we will know that reason." I must have said this a thousand times, and it usually made her feel better for about an hour and then the cycle would repeat. She tried to wear me down, but I think I held it together well enough. Answering this question was probably the most important thing I did for Jennifer and Carson over those four weeks. Other than this, I felt pretty helpless.
To wrap this up, if I were able to turn back the clock one year and I could give myself some idea of what to expect here is what it would be:
When our saga started, I met Jennifer at the hospital and my head was spinning. I didn't know what to say or do, so I said very little (running my mouth when I am overwhelmed is not my strong suit either). The first day I provided hand holding, back rubbing, phone calls to mom, etc. I pretty much let the doctors to their thing and tried to stay calm and out of the way. A hysterical husband is the last thing that Jennifer or the doctors needed. The doctors actually did a pretty good job of staying calm themselves and making sure that we we knew exactly what they were doing and why there were doing it. My opinion of the doctor that laid it all out there for us is a little different than Jennifer's. This lady was matter-of-fact, straight to the point, and did not waste any words (my kind of woman). I did not know anything about having a premature child (or any child for that matter) and she gave me a 10 minute crash course on the risks and what we should expect. I appreciated the fact that she did not sugar coat anything, and left very little to the imagination. When people start dancing around details, I naturally imagine that these details will affect me in a negative way. I was able to wrap my mind around some of the scary things she was telling us and strangely enough it made me feel better.
Even though the first day was hard, it went quickly. The next four weeks were more of a marathon (distance running is not my strong suit either). It was a slow grind and I spent most of my time at work or the hospital. I was staying every other night in the hospital, taking turns with my mother-in-law (eternally grateful for her). Consequently, I was only sleeping every other night. I'm a light sleeper to begin with and a constant stream of nurses in and out and the un-rhythmic noises of monitoring equipment ensured that I would never sleep for more than 30 minutes at a time. My point here is that I spent the next month being TIRED and worried. At the same time, Jennifer was forced to sit in bed all day and do nothing but worry (100 times worse than my situation). The question that she asked me several times per day every day was: Why? Why is this happening to me? What did I do wrong? Why am I spending my maternity leave sitting in this hospital without my baby? Of course I didn't know the answers to these specific questions. All I knew is that "I don't know" was not an acceptable answer. I also knew that my girl needs constant reassurance (one of the many nuances of Jennifer), so that is what I did. My answer to the question was always the same: "Because this is the way it was meant to be and once all is said and done everything will be just fine. Everything happens for a reason and someday we will know that reason." I must have said this a thousand times, and it usually made her feel better for about an hour and then the cycle would repeat. She tried to wear me down, but I think I held it together well enough. Answering this question was probably the most important thing I did for Jennifer and Carson over those four weeks. Other than this, I felt pretty helpless.
To wrap this up, if I were able to turn back the clock one year and I could give myself some idea of what to expect here is what it would be:
- Prepare to be tired
- Prepare to feel helpless
- Figure out what you can do and do it
Thursday, June 23, 2011
A Major Meltdown
Have you ever tried to put on a brave face just to have a complete meltdown later on? Or tried to hold your emotions in, but sooner or later they have gotten the better of you and you just have to let it out?
I reached that point about a week and a half into Carson's stay in the NICU/Progressive NICU.
Looking back, I'm surprised it took that long to have my first major meltdown. It probably should have happened the day I left the hospital. But it didn't and I think I know why.
Brent and I were both trying to put on our brave faces for each other. Or at least I was. I cannot speak for him, but this is what I did.
I tried to put on my brave face because if I melted down, I thought, it would be too hard to get back to being positive again. That if I just lost it, then that meant I was feeling sorry for myself, when other babies were in a tougher situation than our daughter. I felt like I needed to stay positive for Carson. Even though I wasn't with her 24/7, I felt that she could feel my energy. I didn't want any negative energy around her. Only positive thoughts. I wanted her to feel 100% love, support, and confidence that everything was going to be okay.
But it did not feel that way all the time. And that's when I couldn't keep it in anymore.
We were driving home from the hospital. Carson had a setback. She had a Brady-apnea, so that meant at least another seven days in the hospital. As we were driving home, Brent asked me, "What was I thinking?" (Because I'm always thinking about something.) I told him, "I just feel like crying." He said three simple words, "Let it out."
And oh, did I.
I mean, huge, big tears. Tears that make you have to grasp for breath. I think I cried all the way home. And I screamed. Because not only was I sad. But I was pissed. Pissed that my healthy pregnancy turned out this way. I was mad that my maternity leave was spent two weeks in the hospital before Carson was born and how many days in the hospital afterwards. I was mad that I may not get the time I wanted or needed with my daughter before I had to go back to work (thankfully, my employer at the time was AMAZING!)
So I had the full range of emotions of being sad, mad and just downright angry. I felt like I had gotten robbed. Robbed of valuable time with my daughter. And I didn't like it. I wanted it fixed.
But what I learned from that moment is that I needed a good cry. I needed to get those feelings out because I wouldn't have been able to keep them in. I think I needed to show my husband what I was feeling, so he could understand - even though I think he did understand. And once I let it all out, I felt so much better. When it was over, I felt this huge stress lifted from my shoulders. I felt so much better and I could believe again that everything would be okay.
I reached that point about a week and a half into Carson's stay in the NICU/Progressive NICU.
Looking back, I'm surprised it took that long to have my first major meltdown. It probably should have happened the day I left the hospital. But it didn't and I think I know why.
Brent and I were both trying to put on our brave faces for each other. Or at least I was. I cannot speak for him, but this is what I did.
I tried to put on my brave face because if I melted down, I thought, it would be too hard to get back to being positive again. That if I just lost it, then that meant I was feeling sorry for myself, when other babies were in a tougher situation than our daughter. I felt like I needed to stay positive for Carson. Even though I wasn't with her 24/7, I felt that she could feel my energy. I didn't want any negative energy around her. Only positive thoughts. I wanted her to feel 100% love, support, and confidence that everything was going to be okay.
But it did not feel that way all the time. And that's when I couldn't keep it in anymore.
We were driving home from the hospital. Carson had a setback. She had a Brady-apnea, so that meant at least another seven days in the hospital. As we were driving home, Brent asked me, "What was I thinking?" (Because I'm always thinking about something.) I told him, "I just feel like crying." He said three simple words, "Let it out."
And oh, did I.
I mean, huge, big tears. Tears that make you have to grasp for breath. I think I cried all the way home. And I screamed. Because not only was I sad. But I was pissed. Pissed that my healthy pregnancy turned out this way. I was mad that my maternity leave was spent two weeks in the hospital before Carson was born and how many days in the hospital afterwards. I was mad that I may not get the time I wanted or needed with my daughter before I had to go back to work (thankfully, my employer at the time was AMAZING!)
So I had the full range of emotions of being sad, mad and just downright angry. I felt like I had gotten robbed. Robbed of valuable time with my daughter. And I didn't like it. I wanted it fixed.
But what I learned from that moment is that I needed a good cry. I needed to get those feelings out because I wouldn't have been able to keep them in. I think I needed to show my husband what I was feeling, so he could understand - even though I think he did understand. And once I let it all out, I felt so much better. When it was over, I felt this huge stress lifted from my shoulders. I felt so much better and I could believe again that everything would be okay.
Friday, June 17, 2011
The Next Five Days
The next five days were the same routine.
My mom and I would get to the hospital by 9am for the previous mentioned routine for the day. And depending upon the day, we would either stay until 12pm or go run some errands and be back by 3pm. I at least wanted to see Carson twice a day, if not more. One thing we could not plan for was that if we did get there, sometimes, the NICU would be closed because they were operating or needed to discuss sensitive information to parents. So my vote was usually to stay as long as we could, since you didn't know if you would miss out later on in the day.
Please remember, my mom still hadn't held Carson, since we wanted to keep Carson "germ-free". Well, we were nearing five days in the NICU and the nurses were telling us that it looked really good that she would be moved to the Progressive NICU. I thought, "Wow, so soon!! This is wonderful!!"
Since Carson was doing so well, and my mom had been with me, I really wanted my mom to experience that Grandmother (but she goes by Gia) - Granddaughter bond. My mom held Carson on the fourth day in NICU.
And it was magical.
Through the night, I would get up and pump.
(And people would say, "Oh, you must be getting sleep, since Carson is not home yet. First, wrong thing to say to me. Second, no, I am not getting sleep because I have to get up every two to three hours to make sure my child has food. Third, I much rather have my child home.)
(And people would say, "Oh, you must be getting sleep, since Carson is not home yet. First, wrong thing to say to me. Second, no, I am not getting sleep because I have to get up every two to three hours to make sure my child has food. Third, I much rather have my child home.)
My mom and I would get to the hospital by 9am for the previous mentioned routine for the day. And depending upon the day, we would either stay until 12pm or go run some errands and be back by 3pm. I at least wanted to see Carson twice a day, if not more. One thing we could not plan for was that if we did get there, sometimes, the NICU would be closed because they were operating or needed to discuss sensitive information to parents. So my vote was usually to stay as long as we could, since you didn't know if you would miss out later on in the day.
Please remember, my mom still hadn't held Carson, since we wanted to keep Carson "germ-free". Well, we were nearing five days in the NICU and the nurses were telling us that it looked really good that she would be moved to the Progressive NICU. I thought, "Wow, so soon!! This is wonderful!!"
Since Carson was doing so well, and my mom had been with me, I really wanted my mom to experience that Grandmother (but she goes by Gia) - Granddaughter bond. My mom held Carson on the fourth day in NICU.
And it was magical.
Have you had a moment like that with a daughter, son, niece, nephew, cousin, or best friend's child?
Gia holding her special grandbaby.
Gia and Carson
My mom wears her mother's wedding ring, so I felt like my Grandma was there. Carson's middle name is my Grandma's first name, Marie.
Sunday, June 12, 2011
Day 1 in the NICU
The night Carson was born, Brent was able to take our parents to the NICU to visit Carson. Unfortunately, the grandparents weren't able to hold her because we wanted to limit germ exposure, but they were able to see her. Brent learned the ins-and-outs, so by the next morning, when I was ready to see my little baby, I knew the routine.
For our NICU experience, every time we went to see Carson, we had to wash our hands for two minutes and wear a medical gown. (Those things get hot and my hands were so dry by the end of June, but it was all worth it.)
When we went to visit the NICU while I was on bed rest, it was really sad to see the tiny babies in there and picture our baby in there too. It's not a place where you want your child to be, but if they are, they are in EXTREMELY good hands. They have a dedicated nurse watching over them and checking on them constantly. The nurses are empathetic to the parents and of course, professional. You can tell they love what they do and they are passionate for taking care of the tiny ones of the world!!
Our routine started by 9am every day, since that is when her first feeding of the day started and the neo-natal doctors made their rounds. I always wanted to be there when the doctors were there to hear what they had to say. Her routine was like this: Change her diaper, take her temperature and then try to nurse or feed her a bottle. Then get as much snuggle time as we wanted.
The emotions that I remember from those first few days were happiness, anxiousness and sadness. I know hormones played a role, but it was this emotional roller coaster of being happy that Carson was doing well and was healthy. But I was sad that she was tied up to machines, IVs in her little head and that we couldn't take her home yet. I was anxious because the doctors and nurses never give you a timeline of when she will come home. Only that she must meet certain criteria, so then you are just hoping that she continues on the path of maintaining her own temperature and gaining weight. So that's what we did. We nurtured her when we could get to the NICU and let the wonderful nurses and doctors do the rest.
Pictures in the NICU
Carson all snuggled after a feeding with Daddy.
I heart my bottles - 1 oz to begin with!
For our NICU experience, every time we went to see Carson, we had to wash our hands for two minutes and wear a medical gown. (Those things get hot and my hands were so dry by the end of June, but it was all worth it.)
When we went to visit the NICU while I was on bed rest, it was really sad to see the tiny babies in there and picture our baby in there too. It's not a place where you want your child to be, but if they are, they are in EXTREMELY good hands. They have a dedicated nurse watching over them and checking on them constantly. The nurses are empathetic to the parents and of course, professional. You can tell they love what they do and they are passionate for taking care of the tiny ones of the world!!
Our routine started by 9am every day, since that is when her first feeding of the day started and the neo-natal doctors made their rounds. I always wanted to be there when the doctors were there to hear what they had to say. Her routine was like this: Change her diaper, take her temperature and then try to nurse or feed her a bottle. Then get as much snuggle time as we wanted.
The emotions that I remember from those first few days were happiness, anxiousness and sadness. I know hormones played a role, but it was this emotional roller coaster of being happy that Carson was doing well and was healthy. But I was sad that she was tied up to machines, IVs in her little head and that we couldn't take her home yet. I was anxious because the doctors and nurses never give you a timeline of when she will come home. Only that she must meet certain criteria, so then you are just hoping that she continues on the path of maintaining her own temperature and gaining weight. So that's what we did. We nurtured her when we could get to the NICU and let the wonderful nurses and doctors do the rest.
Pictures in the NICU
Carson all snuggled after a feeding with Daddy.
I heart my bottles - 1 oz to begin with!
Carson and Mommy.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Mission: Pampers
When I checked my e-mail, there was this huge advertisement that greeted me:
I usually ignore these because they don't relate to me, but this one had me at their headline, "Every baby is a little miracle."
I usually ignore these because they don't relate to me, but this one had me at their headline, "Every baby is a little miracle."
I had to click on the link and I encourage you to do the same:
The link takes you to the Pampers' YouTube page which showcases a moving commercial about however your little bundle of joy enters the world, each baby is special and needs tender-loving care.
I've seen this commerical before, and it always brings a little tear to my eye. It does show that every story is unique and that every baby is a little miracle.
Along with buying their product (which I do love Pampers), they also are setting out missions for people to choose to accept. This month's challenge - helping father's bond with their child (in honor of Father's Day). This is a special mission because it is so important for fathers to feel that connection with their newborn. Mothers feel that connection as soon as they find out they're pregnant, but in my opinion, it takes until the birth of the child for a father to "get it".
It is so important for the baby to feel the love from both parents. Being taken care of from both mom and dad and not just mom. Plus, it helps the parents share the new responsibilities.
I will brag on Brent for a minute too. He was awesome. He connected right away to Carson, and I know he was proud of the fact that she looked EXACTLY like him. We called her his mini-me. They really are two peas in a pod. Along with his silliness with her, he is a rock-star dad. From Day 1 in the NICU, he shared in the feedings, changings, and taking her temperature. Once we got her home, he would do the late night feeding, so I could sleep for 6 hours until her 3am feeding. He still shares in the feeding, cleaning, changing and playing. He is an awesome dad to Carson and I know that is so important for her development. So I will choose to accept this mission to make sure he gets some special father-daughter time this Father's Day.
So please take a minute to click on the link and if you have a special dad in your life, tell him what he means to you.
Friday, June 3, 2011
News & NICU
(Looking good for bed rest and rockin the circulation leg thingys - yes, the technical term.)During your stay on the high-risk maternity floor, you see a lot of nurses and doctors. For the most part, I really didn't mind getting interrupted every three hours to get an update on my progress or even care that they saw me without any make-up on or have consecutive bad hair days. (That's another blog post for another day!)
The thing that really bothered me was that they didn't sugar coat the news. And for me, I am a hearts and rainbows kinda of girl. Give me the sugar. I can imagine the bad stuff, but tell me the good stuff. Tell me the stuff that makes me think positive and believe that everything is going to be okay.
Nope, not here. And I understood why. Because they don't know. They don't know what you (or they) are in store for until your little bundle of joy is born, so they give you ALL the scenarios. And honestly, they are all pretty scary. Not fun for a person who is a visual learner and does not want to picture her baby with feeding or breathing tubes.
I think that was one of the most stressful times on bed rest. Hearing all the "what if's" or "this is a possibility."
The nurses even suggested getting a tour of the NICU so we would know what to expect when Carson was there. That was hard. Brent and I put on our brave faces that evening, but when we got back to the room, I was sad. There were at least 10 little babies all under 4 pounds. They were just so tiny. The nurses didn't tell us each of their conditions, but did say that for a baby to get out of the NICU, they must master three things:
1. Be able to breathe on their own.
1. Be able to breathe on their own.
2. Maintain their own body temperature.
3. Eat well.
So there were our goals for Carson once she was born.
And for me, my goal was to stay positive. I firmly believe if you think good thoughts, good things will happen. (Plus, a lot of praying done by me, family and friends.)
Do you know anyone that went thru a similar situation? Tell them to e-mail me at hull.jennifer@yahoo.com. Or what situation did you have that you heard all negative but tried to make it a positive?
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