tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-87928468999602118272024-03-24T23:09:12.001-07:00Preemie Resource BlogPrecious and priceless so lovable too, the world’s sweetest littlest miracle is, a baby like you.Unknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger120125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-41183535548962351742013-05-04T19:09:00.001-07:002013-05-05T12:24:24.125-07:00Cora by Megan<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJeJaWL1tuAYCC8CSWrhv841CxDoMedF_A2cvk_rPmwfVKPfple6YcUl7UXD6qr88feM_vsh9busOB0brOYffwrOM3xnTk9pqdukxLFN_xBWYnx30-4juRFzlNrXVA30ussFGOUmR-Ao/s1600/cora1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVJeJaWL1tuAYCC8CSWrhv841CxDoMedF_A2cvk_rPmwfVKPfple6YcUl7UXD6qr88feM_vsh9busOB0brOYffwrOM3xnTk9pqdukxLFN_xBWYnx30-4juRFzlNrXVA30ussFGOUmR-Ao/s400/cora1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Meet Cora, born weighing 2 lbs, 7 oz</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My story begins on April 25, 2012. I was 30 weeks pregnant and going to a regular doctors appointment, I had just switched over to going twice a month. Aside from my feet being a little swollen and my fingers being numb, I was feeling pretty good and was excited about signing up for a few classes (childbirth, breastfeeding) to take in the next couple of weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My husband was working and this was going to be my first time going to an appointment without him, but he got off early at the last minute. Everything was going fine until the nurse took my blood pressure. It was 148/80. My blood pressure had been perfect my whole pregnancy, and was actually usually low. They tried my other arm and it was still high, so she left to go get the doctor.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My doctor comes in and starts asking if I've had any headaches and says he wants me to go over to the hospital for some monitoring and blood work. Then the nurse comes back and says there was +4 protein in my urine and the doctor warns me that I may be spending a few days in the hospital. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I've never been in a hospital so this kind of scared me, and I was worried about my job and my dogs at home, so I'm sure I wasn't helping my blood pressure. When we arrived and they tested it again it was something crazy like 180/110. I started trying to relax but it only went down to around 160/100 and it stayed there for a few hours. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">While still in the triage area, they did an ultrasound. I noticed when they would measure the length of the baby's bones and size, it would list it as weeks... And everything kept coming up as 27 weeks. The nurse said everything looked good, but then looked at my chart and asked how far along I was. When I said 30 weeks she said the baby was small and that she needed to get a clear picture of the umbilical cord. I had no idea what any of this meant but this was when we finally called my family and my job to let them know something was going on.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">After the ultrasound I had an IV placed in my arm and they started me on magnesium sulfate. I was finally put into a room and started a 24 hour urine collection. My mom had just arrived with some of my stuff when the doctor came in and dropped the bombshell.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">He said that he would have to see my blood and urine work first but that he could pretty much guarantee I had severe preeclampsia. The umbilical cord had been affected and the baby was IUGR. I would not be leaving the hospital until she was born, and they wanted me to make it to 32 weeks. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was completely stunned by this. I think mostly because I still felt perfectly fine. The magnesium started kicking in at this point, and that stuff is awful. I spent the next week on it, feeling like I was burning from the inside out. I couldn't really concentrate on anything, even when people came to visit I couldn't completely follow a conversation. All of my test results came back and sure enough I had preeclampsia. A nurse from the NICU came to talk about what I could expect. As everyone reading this has probably heard, she told me girls do better. She also told me that preeclampsia babies also usually do better. I thought that was really interesting, she said that it was almost like your body knew something was wrong in the beginning and it helped develop the baby faster. She explained that the baby would likely need some kind of breathing assistance and would be in the NICU until around her due date.</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Hanging out in NICU</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Every morning I would have an ultrasound. They looked at the poor blood flow in the cord, they measured the baby's movements, and they watched for her to practice breathing. I received both steroid shots. The baby was moving less and less, but a couple days after being there they did see her "breathing" in the amniotic fluid. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Instead of making it to 32 weeks I made it five days. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827" id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367701411886_8365" rel="nofollow" style="outline: 0px;">On Sunday night</a> I started having a weird pain in my side/stomach. Then I woke up in the middle of the night with the worst headache I have ever had. When the nurse came in for my nightly <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827" rel="nofollow" style="outline: 0px;">3:00 am</a> blood draw, I told her about the pain and she brought me some medicine. I lay there for hours feeling so sick, I could tell something was going wrong. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Around <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827" rel="nofollow" style="outline: 0px;">7:00</a> my new nurse poked her head in and told me not to order breakfast or eat anything. That's all she said, but I knew. I called my husband and my family and told them it was c-section time. The nurses came in and said that my bloodwork had shown that I was developing HELLP syndrome, and at that point the baby has to be delivered. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">My husband got there just in time and they started the c-section. The epidural did not feel at all like I expected. The feeling of them digging around for the baby felt a lot worse than I expected, but maybe that's just because I was imagining it and it creeped me out!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then at 9:09 am on April 30, 2012 I heard the squeakiest little cry ever. My so far unnamed daughter was 2 lbs 7 oz and 15 inches long. My husband went to be with her and told me that she looked tiny but good. On their way out they let me give her a kiss and all I saw was this teeny little wrinkled gray face. I was brought into recovery and my husband came to update me and he had a picture! She was on CPAP for just 30 minutes or so before being switched to a nasal cannula. She was absolutely the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen, and I spent the hours in recovery staring at her picture on my husband's phone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Before taking me to my new room we made a stop in the NICU so I could see her, and it shocked me. When wheeling my bed up to her isolette I seriously thought they had the wrong baby. There is no way to even imagine seeing a baby that small in person, only people who have been in the crazy world of the NICU can get it. The nurses assured me that she was doing great, but this is when the guilty feeling started creeping in. One I'd feel again and again with every heel prick and IV insertion and NG tube placement. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next morning they had me up and walking and I was able to go down and hold her for the first time. The next day she was able to come off the cannula, and I got to do kangaroo care with her, which was wonderful. She started having some digestion issues and it took a while to get her past taking more than 3 cc's of breast milk every three hours. Before every feeding, the nurse would suck out contents of her stomach and the milk would still be there. They said it was probably an effect of the magnesium I was on, and after a few days she finally stared digesting better. It took her about two weeks to get back to her birth weight and around the same time they were able to take out her PICC line they'd put in after she constantly yanked IV's out of her arms, feet, and even the top of her head!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Finally when she was two days old we named her. We went in to the hospital having no name ideas that we both liked at all, and then one night heard the name Cora on the TV. I mentioned I liked it and was shocked when my husband did too! I felt like it was too rushed so I wouldn't completely commit to it. But after a few days she definitely seemed like a Cora and so she finally had a name!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Because of the HELLP it took awhile for my platelet levels to return to normal. I had been in the hospital for about a week now and instead of feeling desperate to leave, I started to dread it. When I was discharged a few days later, it was one of the saddest days of my life. They wheeled me down to the curb to wait for my husband and the car and I tried not to look at the women in the wheelchairs beside me, holding their babies. I held a container of breast milk and this little blanket I was carrying around to leave with Cora with my scent on it. My husband picked me and all of my stuff up, we re-parked, and went back up to the NICU for awhile. Finally leaving was devastating.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">But soon we got into a routine. Cora slowly gained weight and after a few weeks we started breastfeeding. She did great at it right from the beginning. They would weigh her before and after and once she got the hang of it she'd consistently take in way more cc's than she was taking by bottle. Around 4 weeks old they tried out an open air crib but she only made it about two hours before she was too cold. I went in a week later, excited to try again, and found everything in her room covered. There was a caution sign that said that a gown and gloves must be worn before entering. A nurse came running over and explained that Cora had tested positive for MRSA. The only thing I knew about MRSA was that it was hard to treat and that people died from it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The nurse quickly made sure I knew that this was really no big deal. She didn't "have" MRSA, her nose was colonized with it. It's very common in a hospital and she probably got it from one of the nurses or doctors. I could still breast feed and hold her skin to skin, but I'd have to wear gloves. If it wasn't hard enough changing her little diapers sideways through portholes avoiding wires with numb fingertips (from pregnancy caused carpal tunnel), adding gloves just made it that more fun! The nurse also gave me the good news that she was going to go ahead and remove the NG tube because of how good Cora had been with eating, and literally as she was saying this Cora yanked out her own tube (for the millionth time)!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">That night we tried the open crib again and it worked. I went in the following morning as Cora's doctor was looking at her and heard the magic words, "Go ahead and bring the carseat in..." She passed her carseat test within the next few days and <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827" rel="nofollow" style="outline: 0px;">on June 11th</a> I got a call in the morning saying she was ready to go! She was exactly six weeks old. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The car ride to get her was so exciting, but it took hours to get her out. There was multiple papers to sign and we set up follow up appointments for eye exams and Synagis. Then the nurse just kind of said, "Okay, you can go ahead and take her leads off..." We peeled them off, and out we walked. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am writing this on April 25th, 2013. Exactly a year after that fateful doctor appointment. Cora is a few days away from being one, and doing great. Aside from being small for her actual age, she has no side effects from being born nine weeks early. I, on the other hand, have never felt the same. I feel like I came out of the hospital a different person, but not necessarily in a bad way. Cora is the best thing that ever happened to me and I wouldn't change anything about her story even if I could!</span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Cora, one year.</td></tr>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-48765519096992315712013-04-29T18:57:00.000-07:002013-05-01T07:46:12.656-07:00Alec + Bradley [siblings] by Andrea<i><b><br /></b></i>
<i><b>This is a letter in response to <a href="http://www.amazon.com/Empowered-Preemie-Moms-Newborn-ebook/dp/B00BMHUCEO/ref=sr_1_1?s=digital-text&ie=UTF8&qid=1367118082&sr=1-1&keywords=empowered+preemie+moms" target="_blank">Empowered Preemie Moms by Shaana Berman</a>, author and friend of Preemie Resources. Her book can be found on Amazon.</b></i><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bradley, recently.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; text-align: center;">My name is Andrea Irving, and I am an ob/gyn physician and mother of 2 preemies. </span><span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;">I finished reading your book 3 days ago, and I loved it. I'd like to share my story as it is vastly different than your others.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;">When I was pregnant with Alec, I was a resident working 90 hours a week on average. I was on my feet all day delivering babies, doing c-sections, and rounding. I worked from about 5am until 6pm daily and on the weekend, I had one 26-28 hour shift. It's a hard life, and it took its toll on me. You'll find that L&D nurses, NICU nurses, and ob/gyn's often have pregnancy issues. While I was a resident, we had a girl with PUPPP's, a guy whose wife PPROM'ed at 34 weeks, a NICU nurse whose baby had SVT and died shortly after birth, a girl who got HELLP syndrome at 30 weeks, and a few other things. Those are the things that stand out though.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;">I get pregnant pretty easily, so 3 months after I got my IUD out, I was pregnant with Alec. His gender was a surprise, as one of my biggest pet peeves is people who could care less that their baby has all its other parts. So to us, that was a really unimportant part, and we went gender neutral on everything. Well, I threw up until about 20 weeks, which was fine. I had trouble doing surgeries because of the nausea. I got into a car accident at 19 weeks, but everything was fine. And my asthma got totally out of control around 22 weeks. But everything was great. At about 25 weeks, I started contracting enough that my attendings noticed and sent me home. When I was 25w4d, I started a call shift. It was brutal and I could barely waddle around by the end. I was 25w6d when I went home. I fell asleep around 11am and woke up at about 5pm in a pool of blood. We rushed to Ob Triage at my hospital and I was admitted. I'd had a small placental abruption, but the baby was stable. His growth was noted to be in the 8th percentile, which is IUGR, but it was thought best to check a growth scan again in 3-4 weeks. I got a steroid window to help mature lungs and protect brain and gut. I was sent home on bed rest, much to my fellow residents' chagrin (they had to pick up my slack now), and life went on. I contracted a lot, but enjoyed my time being bored on the couch. At 29 weeks, Alec was only in the 5th percentile. At 32 weeks, he was in less than the first percentile. I got a steroid booster and was told I'd likely be induced early. At 35 weeks, he had essentially stopped growing, and I was induced at 36 weeks. Alec was born at 36w1d after a very uneventful labor and weighed 5lb even. He was only 16 1/2 inches long though. His weight dropped to 4lb6oz and he got jaundiced, so he was kept an additional day. That was hard on me. I cried and cried. But he passed his carseat test the next day and came home. We had a hip dysplasia scare, but after a negative ultrasound, everyone was reassured. He had to go to daycare at 6 weeks, which broke my heart, but I had to go back to work. He was sick a lot, but daycare babies are. Oh, and I'd had a postpartum hemorrhage, a retained placenta, and a post partum fever. I had to have a D&C to get the placenta out.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnFQR-Y-D12_MZ6FF8SV0Zhtu-MyUyxlXK-4SZTt-yM114kTruH822avOA-K3YBpy-0HxlcjiOe_cF8alDlFNCXY3pMZH5IRNVbeZGNS_mXqsEfw2BPG8oGIvIOIvNPIvzR17Sgf-Rz0/s1600/brand+new.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgjnFQR-Y-D12_MZ6FF8SV0Zhtu-MyUyxlXK-4SZTt-yM114kTruH822avOA-K3YBpy-0HxlcjiOe_cF8alDlFNCXY3pMZH5IRNVbeZGNS_mXqsEfw2BPG8oGIvIOIvNPIvzR17Sgf-Rz0/s320/brand+new.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alec during his apgar testing.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white;">The postpartum trouble started when Alec was about 4 weeks old. I felt depressed, saw my ob, and got put on an antidepressant I'd had a good experience with. It seemed to help at first, but then stopped. My doctor increased the dose. Again, it only helped for a while. I started crying all the time and fantasizing about driving my car off this overpass onto one of the freeways here in Phoenix. I started wondering if I could get my car to go fast enough to kill myself by accelerating into the telephone poles on the other sides of intersections. Then I had to stop breastfeeding suddenly due to work contraints. I started hearing voices. I knew that was abnormal, and I'd cry when it happened. It sounded like a crowd of people, like I could never be alone. My husband finally'd had enough and told one of my attendings. She sent me directly to a psychiatrist and I was diagnosed with postpartum psychosis and bipolar disorder. I was immediately put on medication and in a few days I was a new woman. I took a long time off work to recover. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;">Alec, of course, is no worse for the wear from this dark time in my life. I feel terrible though. I have so few memories of the first 6 months of his life. It makes me sad. But he's fine and loving, and that's what matters. His only issue was a teeny language delay. He only had about 2 or 3 words by 18 months. My sister-in-law expressed concern (her older child was really early with his language, so I think her opinion was skewed) and gave us some paperwork on assessing for speech delay. Well, I never looked at it. Literally 2 weeks after she gave us the paper, Alec was speaking in full sentences. Just goes to show how not all kids develop the same!</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5G-HuVlCoJctUFXmzEA3_EnmfnX1uDzg9yj3d6ovuHpE90Xw-50QGMIgLlkJyWF4DLFlPQxWF6yZJg_LGx_hXFy64-bxDFLUGEb744xfXDePtAgEcuSfz5ORhTatCRrXA2yOSyaFX5s/s1600/12months.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjm5G-HuVlCoJctUFXmzEA3_EnmfnX1uDzg9yj3d6ovuHpE90Xw-50QGMIgLlkJyWF4DLFlPQxWF6yZJg_LGx_hXFy64-bxDFLUGEb744xfXDePtAgEcuSfz5ORhTatCRrXA2yOSyaFX5s/s320/12months.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alec at 12 months.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; text-align: center;">We had originally wanted two children, but this experience really put us off. I'd had another IUD inserted rigth at 6 weeks postpartum, so I was willing to just have one child. I was diagnosed with MTHFR C677T mutation (normal homocysteine), which depending on what literature you read, can cause IUGR and abruptions. Or not. I was also diagnosed with Sjogren's syndrome, which put the baby's heart at risk in any subsequent pregnancies. But of course, my friends started having mroe babies. And I wanted one. I got my IUD out in March or April of 2011. We decided in January of 2012, after much discussion, that we should actually try for #2. I got pregnant in February. I currently work 4 days a week for 40 hours, which is vastly different than residency!</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"> </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All was well in the first trimester. Threw up a lot (until 25 weks), but otherwise fine. But then I had my NT scan and started having tons of cramps afterward. My ob put me on bedrest for 2 weeks. I was allowed to go back to work afterward for 3 half days per week. All was well for a month. Then at 17 weeks, I started spotting. Went to the ER against my better judgement (husband mae me all the after hours nurse and she wanted me to go in... sigh), and was diagnosed with a placenta previa. Was put on bedrest again. I spotted brown off and on for about 6 weeks. At 24 weeks, I woke up bleeding. I spent 3 days in the hospital and was finally allowed to go home, this time on strict bedrest.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">At this point, I knew I was in trouble. I'd been followed by the MFM since 6 weeks. He didn't want me going past 38 weeks. But now I had a feeling I wouldn't even make it to 36. With a heavy heart, I got out the preemie clothes. We had tried to not know if we were having a boy or girl, but the tech for our fetal echo was sloppy and I saw a scrotum. We had fetal echocardiograms every 4 weeks due tot he risk of heart block Bradley had from my Sjogren's. I never left my bedroom, except to go to my doctor's appointments. And then at 26 weeks, I bled again in the middle of the night. Again, I didn't want to go in, but my husband and the after hours nurse made me. I went to the hospital I thought I was delivering at, which was 5 minutes from our home. I was admitted for observation, started on magnesium (again), and this time given a steroid window. When my doctor saw me later in the day, he said that I needed a higher level of care and was transferring me to a hospital with a level 3 NICU (we were at a level 2EQ). So, to my embarrassment, I was transported by ambulance. As a resident, I hated transports, and now I was one! The new hospital was about 12-15 minutes from the house. I was grouchy because the doctor told me I'd be there for the duration of my pregnancy. I got settled in my room and woke up around 6am literally gushing blood.</span><br />
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I called my husband, who seemed to instantaneously appear, even after having dropped our son off at a friend's. I was rushed from antepartum to L&D. Fortunately, Bradley behaved himself and my bleeding slowed down. My stepdad even drove up from out of town because he was worried. From that point, I never argued about staying in the hospital. I tried to be patient and just let things roll. I bled off and on and did crafts. My husband and 3 year old visited 1-2 times a day (my husband is a stay at home dad), which kept my spirits up. I had few other visitors, which suited me fine, as they stressed me out. No one understood that I had to be there. That Bradley or I might die waiting fro an ambulance at home if the blood came again. That Bradley might be brain damaged if such a thing happened. That Bradley might die. I watched a lot of trash tv on Netflix. Lots of movies. I continued to crochet and cross stich little bibs.<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I used more and more nifedipine for contractions. Every time they were sustained, I ended up bleeding, so I got paranoid about getting my medication every 4 hours. My blood pressure creeped up and I stated spilling a lot of protein, so I was diagnosed with mild pre-eclampsia. They would continue to monitor me. Bradley continued to grow well. On the 14th of September, I was 31w2d. They decided to do another transvaginal ultrasound to check on my previa. It was gone! They attributed my bleeding to a chronic placental abruption and plans were made for me to go home with a home health nurse visiting periodically. Well, the 14th was a Friday. No one got ahold of the home health place until Monday. It wasn't covered. they wanted me to stay until they could find a company my insurance covered. I flipped out. I could check heart tones, pee on a stick, and take my own blood pressure. I was a doctor!!!! I knew just what to look for. Finally my ob relented, and I went home on the 17th.</span><br />
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<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367123111437_4922">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I did cheat a little after I went home. I scheduled 4 appointments, including a breastfeeding class, a massage, and an eyebrow waxing, for Tuesday. I had 2 additional appointments for Wednesday. Thursday, I had my NST at my ob's and all was well. I was tired, but fine. Friday around 4 in the morning, I woke up bleeding a little. I was 32w2d. I checked my blood pressure and heart tones. Everything was fine. I considered not calling, but I did at my husband's insistance, and headed tot he hospital. I had a bad feeling, but didn't say anything. I got admitted, of course. </span><br />
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My ob actually came out of his uber-conservative shell and was going to let me go back home after having a steroid booster. So I got one shot on Friday afternoon. That evening, my boss from work came by, which was nice. No one was with me because it was expected I'd come home the next evening, so the company was appreciated. Well, I went to sleep. Woke upi around 6am 9/22 to the feeling of gushing blood and was rushed to L&D. My husband arrived eerily fast once again. This time my mother-in-law had come to help out, so no arrangements for childcare had to be made. Well, the bleeding slowed, but didn't stop. I was 4cm, laboring. Bradley looked wonderful on the monitor, so I labored. I got my epidural right away-- I've never had any illusions about my pain tolerance. I feel epidurals were a marvelous invention, but if you feel the need for pain just because cave women did it that way, so be it. So I got the epidural and my contractions slowed down. I was 6cm for hours. They broke my water, and still no change. Pitocin was started and about 30 minutes later, I was in excruciating pain and needed to push. My epidural, it seemed, was not working. At all. My doctor was not on call. His backup was at her house. The hospitalist was moseying along or something because she did not arrive instantaneously like I wanted. She got her gown and gloves on ever so slowly. I pushed and I knew exactly what my patients meant when they said they couldn't push. I felt paralyzed by pain. Next contraction came. I pushed. Then I cried and somehow he was born in about 4-5 minutes of pushing. Thank God for that. He was born at 11:53pm on 9/22. 7 minutes before I turned 34. My best birthday present ever.<br />
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He was beautiful. My first words were, "He's so big!" Maybe he wasn't to parents of termies, but he was to me. The hospitalist (who later turned out to be my new boss's wife... weird...) put him on my chest and I held him. I cut his cord (I also cut Alec's as Colin refused) and they whisked him to the isolette in the room. A moment later I heard him cry. I kept on crying. It was a beautiful sound. His APGAR's wre 8 and 9, so they brought him to me to hold before they took him to the NICU. I just couldn't get over how beautiful he was.</div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlJLC4LZTdR6oI63QZfd9R5FPT4FjKnE0p_yi1H8NtHoEXKof3ySa1-gNr1jazt-J2NJZeL2bZS07d-vkGBC2FdSeZVLkjVS9sFq3pcKZxdGiogZYgAn-5hT7BD1nvxN9ebYAxtrgo-VM/s1600/photo+1.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhlJLC4LZTdR6oI63QZfd9R5FPT4FjKnE0p_yi1H8NtHoEXKof3ySa1-gNr1jazt-J2NJZeL2bZS07d-vkGBC2FdSeZVLkjVS9sFq3pcKZxdGiogZYgAn-5hT7BD1nvxN9ebYAxtrgo-VM/s320/photo+1.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Bradley at two days of life.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">My placenta didn't come. Again. I hemorrhaged. Again. Fortunately, I didn't need a D&C this time. I was able to pee after the useless epidural was taken out, so they wheeled me to the NICU. Bradley weighed 4lb5oz and was 17.75in long-- longer than his 36 weeker brother! He was breathing on his own, although tachypneic. They anticipated putting him on CPAP after he tired out. I got to hold his little hand, and then I went to my room. I immediately called for a breast pump. The lactation consultant had seen me at 27 and 31 weeks, and I knew what I had to do to get my supply in. I pumped. I got 1.7mL of liquid gold that first time. I was ecstatic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I ventured over to the NICU after I pumped a second time and showered. My plan was to pump every 2 hours from 6am until 6pm and then every 3 hours from 6pm to 6am. People thought I was crazy, but my milk came in quickly. We got ribs and a cake for my birthday, which was obviously spent in the hospital. Unfortunately that night, the nurse called and said bradley's IV had infiltrated his TPN into his little hand and caused a chemical burn. The whole back of his hand was black and there was an ulcerated area in the center. It ended up taking about 5 weeks to heal.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Other than the IV issue, Bradley was our little rock star. He never did end up needing oxygen support or other medications. He started oral feeds on either 9/23 or 9/24. Those dates get a little blurry. He was jaundiced and had a hard time passing his meconium, but was otherwise amazing. He was on full oral feeds by day 10 of life and was moved from the NICU to the CCN (continuing care nursery, a step-down unit). Gone was our private oasis and amazing nurse. We were in a 4-bed room with new nurses to get used to. On day 2 of being in the CCN, we got to try the bottle. he ate like a champ. We brought in our own bottles from home, which they happily used. I was determined to breastfeed and didn't want even their "slow" flow nipples. I had been doing the non-nutritive breastfeeding, and Bradley had taken to it. The day after his bottle feed, I got to breastfeed him! He was amazing.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">It was around this time, maybe a few days earlier, that my nipples started their issues. My old pump in style was not functioning properly and the suction was out of control. I think that may have had something to do with it. I likely started out with too small flanges, which contributed to it. And I was pumping tons from the get go. My areolas were raw. I tried every remedy imaginable. Maybe thrush, so I used gentian violet. I had 2 strengths of APNO. I had lansinoh. I used warm saline soaks. I air dried. I spead milk on them. I used ice. Nothing. Finally, my lactation consult in the NICU (God bless her) as well as an IBCLC friend who runs a physicians breastfeeding support group suggested nifedipine. They thought I might have traumatic Raynaud's of the nipple. I was also told to use the giant 36mm flanges and the APNO round the clock. Within 3 or 4 days, my nipples were healed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Then latch issues started after we got home. In the hospital, Bradley was a great nurser. But once we were home, he started hurting and he nursed constantly. On my parenting board online someone suggested tongue tie. I looked at some pictures on Google and then in my sweet boy's mouth and wow! His tongue tie went all the way to the tip of his tongue! Not sure why no one in the NICU noticed this since he was examined daily. He also had a very thick lip tie. I have since learned these are common in families, as well as in preemies. Alec didn't have this and no one in either family did, so we can thank preemiehood. Luckliy my IBCLC friend took one look at my pictures and referred me to a pediatrician who cauterized tongue and lip ties. The tongue was done first, and I was discouraged because nothing changed. I wondered if because Bradley was 3 months old that he had developed bad habits we would have to correct. 2 weeks later the lip tie was done. Once the cauterized area healed, it was amazing! No pain! My husband reported that he had stopped screaming all day. And his need to constantly nurse stopped, as he was better able to extract the milk. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Since then, it's been mostly smooth sailing. Bradley did have a largeish umbilical hernia, which I freaked out about. I was so worried he'd need surgery, but the pediatrician said they normally just observe them, and it's so small it never pokes out anymore. He does have the worst case of eczema my pediatrician has ever seen, and that is a constant struggle for us, but we keep it in check with steroid creams and super thick lotions. My beautiful baby boy is now 14lb and 26in long. His length is average size for a 6 month old and in greater than the 99th percentile for 4 month olds. Crazy!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">During my pregnancy, I never could have gotten through without 2 groups. The first group are the lovely ladies on the high risk, preemie, and birth month boards on <a href="http://thebump.com/">thebump.com</a>. They are amazing, supportive, and knowledgeable-- even for non medical people! I checked in multiple times a day every day for months. It was nice to know others were going through almost exactly the same thing as me!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The second group is <a href="http://sidelines.org/" rel="nofollow" style="outline: 0px;" target="_blank">sidelines.org</a>. This is a specific support group for pregnant women on bedrest. They were a godsend. They assign you a buddy who can either call and e-mail you or just e-mail you. You chat back and forth and you don't feel so socially isolated and alone. I plan on volunteering as soon as I finish my class-- I am starting to get my CME's and experience together to get my IBCLC.</span></div>
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<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367123111437_4927" style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I also used an organization called Pictures of Hope. They're a fantastic, non profit organization where photographers in the community come to your NICU and take professional pictures of your baby. The sitting is free. You also get 25 4x6 prints, as well as a discount (determined by the photographer) on any additional prints you get. Our photographer drove 60+ miles from Queen Creek to Glendale to take Bradley's picture. She was wonderful. Many of the photographers are preemie moms too, so they really get it! There is a list of photographers on their website.</span><br />
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<div id="yui_3_7_2_1_1367123111437_4925" style="background-color: white;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">During Prematurity Awareness Month (November), I put one fact about prematurity on my Facebook page every day. My friends and family commented about what they learned and how shocked they were at what we went through almost every day. It was nice that they could finally understand what I meant by "adjusted age" and stuff like the challenges preemies face. There are Facebook groups for Prematurity Awareness Month, Parents of Preemies, Preemie Dads, and Preemie Resources. I'd recommend joining any or all of these groups.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am also doing the March of Dimes March for Babies to raise money and awareness for prematurity and high risk pregnancy. It's amazing how many friends of friends have gone through a premature birth or difficult pregnancy and no one knew! So I'm marching with my friend's friend's team. Her 28 weeker is now 8 years old. She has many of the same NICU pictures I do. I am sure everyone else has these too.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I also participated in a study for the Organization for Teratology Information Services (OTIS). Basically OTIS monitors women who have drug exposures in pregnancy. You sign up for a particular study and then you track your medications, hospitalizations, and ultrasounds. I was in the rheumatoid arthritis study, the asthma study, and the vaccination study. They did follow up interviews throughout the pregnancy and a developmental pediatrician came out to examine Bradley about a month ago. He did some special measurements and was really pleased at how he was developing. That made me feel great.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">We are also followed by the Neonatal Intensive Care Program (NICP) here in AZ. The nurse comes out and does home visits for 18 months + to monitor the preemies' development and can facilitate entry into the early intervention system if needed. NICP is paid for by the state, as is early intervention. So, if we need speech, occupational, physical therapy or perhaps a dietician, she can make all that happen. She encouraged us to apply for WIC (I qualified... a doctor! Love that short term disability only paying me 27% of my salary...) and social security, which paid for gas going to and from the hospital while Bradley was there. She also talked to us about deferring my student loans and credit card bills until we got back on our feet. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">As an ob/gyn, I never knew about any of this. I basically came into this situation blind. I'd delivered many a preemie and put many a woman on hospital or home bedrest without thinking of the consequences of that. Now I really think of how that affects a mom and baby and family and I weigh all of my decisions carefully. I am a much more sympathetic and empathetic doctor. It was shocking to me all of the things that went along with it. Sure, we followed up on our preemie deliveries to see how they were doing, but we never got to see the human side of our actions. Having lived through it now has taught me a lot. Strangely, I am grateful for my experiences. I do want another baby, but we have agreed that Bradley is our last. We came through this experience as a family, but again, I have the guilt of "abandoning" my husband and 3 year old. Alec was great-- he enjoyed going to the "hostible" and seeing me or spending time on my sister-in-law's farm. It was a fun time for him. It was agonizing for me to miss out on our lives. I also feel like we dodged a bullet. Twice. We got lucky that we had no major complications with either of our sons, and we don't want to tempt fate. If we do, will be get a 28 weeker this time? A 24 weeker this time? IVH? ROP? NEC? Death of me or the baby? It's not worth it. I love my family too much to put them through all that again.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitt0rZv-74YHorqtn7eYY2XIAtEIDOMLiMzA3CwTJhnUkQ4bnzuj2ak0pC9s4nXIA1wAf1B3vut4Nuyyn_HoVN6_jHEj2YGJ8JRhzME8exNTheAzxN_Ci3D1OHYWaP0K9bEkLb26hAtrc/s1600/photo+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitt0rZv-74YHorqtn7eYY2XIAtEIDOMLiMzA3CwTJhnUkQ4bnzuj2ak0pC9s4nXIA1wAf1B3vut4Nuyyn_HoVN6_jHEj2YGJ8JRhzME8exNTheAzxN_Ci3D1OHYWaP0K9bEkLb26hAtrc/s320/photo+2.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Alec, now three and a half years old!</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Anyway, that's my story. It seems like a dream sometimes. I look at the NICU pictures and just shake my head at the baby Bradley has become. At the little guy Alec has become. It will stay with me forever. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: white;"><b>Andrea Irving, D.O.</b></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><b><br /></b></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-72190138940335579152013-04-29T18:15:00.000-07:002013-04-29T18:15:33.007-07:00William [and John] by Breanna<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-k6XbLqiLhyMUsOeeUW0zAiRNiYokV8rEUtk-4pXI-EKBzY2lXx4TcAbj-tWXdYsOtsel1qE97uK1QCeFAv1Hl_2kR4P0pvL2IVQ7m40XzsTL6OA1TENx2L1N1m1lpeDEgx_e2Mt6H58/s1600/williamfirsthold.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh-k6XbLqiLhyMUsOeeUW0zAiRNiYokV8rEUtk-4pXI-EKBzY2lXx4TcAbj-tWXdYsOtsel1qE97uK1QCeFAv1Hl_2kR4P0pvL2IVQ7m40XzsTL6OA1TENx2L1N1m1lpeDEgx_e2Mt6H58/s320/williamfirsthold.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Breanna holding William for the first time.</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">My birth story starts almost exactly 3 years ago. Yesterday was the third anniversary of my son's death. I had a pretty typical twin pregnancy until my water broke at just 22 weeks. That night I was taken to the hospital and told I would not leave until my babies were born and they would try to hold that off as long as possible. I was told to even have a small chance we would need to make it to 23 weeks and 24-25 weeks to have a decent chance. Even if I did make it that far it didn't look good for my son William, his amniotic sac was the one that had broken and there was not much fluid left to help mature his lungs. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">The next few days I just waited and talked to the never ending train of doctors that came in to talk to me about what my babies future could hold and honestly I don't remember any of it. The waiting continued until around 1AM on day 5, something didn't feel right. They discovered that I was ready to deliver my son William and I was rushed to labor and delivery. Just before 2AM my son William was born weighing 535g (1lb 3oz) at 22 weeks and 5 days gestation (barely). As soon as he was born he was rushed off to the </span><span style="background-color: white;">NICU</span><span style="background-color: white;"> while the medical staff turned their attention to trying to stop my labor. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU60Rxuf5tr3-dPDqy3kU29vn3fbRKZZCYhtCdlxKubMLxuf0Cu5DW-fCJCEK9qYL98ukt7u2I3JlXecpN3wnu4YXl-ZMVYI4deW0WKWniplZ8xGNmRH_nacXXjVHuE67qCBDbMhZU7uQ/s1600/william1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiU60Rxuf5tr3-dPDqy3kU29vn3fbRKZZCYhtCdlxKubMLxuf0Cu5DW-fCJCEK9qYL98ukt7u2I3JlXecpN3wnu4YXl-ZMVYI4deW0WKWniplZ8xGNmRH_nacXXjVHuE67qCBDbMhZU7uQ/s320/william1.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William, born at 22 weeks and 5 days</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span><span style="background-color: white;">The magnesium did it's job and I was turned on my side and tipped head down and the waiting started again. They also started the series of steroid shots to give John any chance they could. I spent the next 39 hours waiting and being very closely monitored while my husband brought me back pictures of my son William with news that he was very critical but stable! </span><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;"></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">The next evening the medical team decided that John needed to be delivered, he was slipping lower into the birth canal and there wasn't much else they could do. John came into the world at 5PM, 39 hours after his brother, also weighing 535g. He was also rushed off to the </span><span style="background-color: white;">NICU</span><span style="background-color: white;">. </span></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ur6JCIQPwRI2K9SvnbEjST38qA7nbrjm9d6rdUUfPsz3qXhHQAxltu7unjPHK9xuVihtmo2P-b4Y0GskGQVyYxsc6RqU5JYNU3oxJwGcN6VAcTkjCxBBvbQWdzeUoRBHkV-H4h_sKXM/s1600/bre+phone+258.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="239" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh6ur6JCIQPwRI2K9SvnbEjST38qA7nbrjm9d6rdUUfPsz3qXhHQAxltu7unjPHK9xuVihtmo2P-b4Y0GskGQVyYxsc6RqU5JYNU3oxJwGcN6VAcTkjCxBBvbQWdzeUoRBHkV-H4h_sKXM/s320/bre+phone+258.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">John, born 39 hours after William now watches over his brother.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">Later that evening I was able to see my babies for the first time, I couldn't believe how tiny and fragile they looked behind the glass. The next few days were pretty uneventful, just waiting on my boys to grow. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white;">This changed when John was 5 days old, we received a phone call early that morning that John was not doing well. When we made it to the hospital he was barely hanging on and there was nothing they could do. He had pneumonia with a very aggressive bacteria and by the time they realized something was wrong it was too late. That morning John passed away and has been watching over his older brother William every day since then. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4BxBVV3IGmzEz0cWgPMPG8ik3RrXbocdwCprak2LwYAu7YrGPJOB6TZ-YDLDkyF6ElzQpk7N1sHGtpzyb3cBsofwacH9Z_G1s1u2cU0-hLoHeiMfe8-KWnpYC7j8s_KzIRqoV-spKzQ/s1600/bre+phone+436.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjO4BxBVV3IGmzEz0cWgPMPG8ik3RrXbocdwCprak2LwYAu7YrGPJOB6TZ-YDLDkyF6ElzQpk7N1sHGtpzyb3cBsofwacH9Z_G1s1u2cU0-hLoHeiMfe8-KWnpYC7j8s_KzIRqoV-spKzQ/s320/bre+phone+436.jpg" width="239" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">William on his way home!</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Slowly but surely William started to grow and after a long 6 month </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">NICU</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"> stay he came home! William is still on a feeding tube, has limited vision, and mild </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">CP</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">. He does not let this slow him down! William's entire </span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">NICU</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"> story as well as current updates can be found at <a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2122282389">www.</a></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://www.blogger.com/goog_2122282389">maravytwinwatch</a></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><a href="http://.com/">.com</a>.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Here's William now!</td></tr>
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</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-77053016926495433922013-04-13T18:37:00.000-07:002013-04-13T18:37:14.115-07:00Grayson by Stephanie<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmVcvVww_w9np71hG6ffbq1zlHHJGFqNSrgesr0u6AfnuHXRMJVtpn7M9baKz9Wj-bUEcxu33Y3CQ1HPjDvMGbtf0evCOcGDubQD-D64dCGz8fZ0zVSvG7Sr0M_8edeP0Y77tQG-PdnQ/s1600/grayson5.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgqmVcvVww_w9np71hG6ffbq1zlHHJGFqNSrgesr0u6AfnuHXRMJVtpn7M9baKz9Wj-bUEcxu33Y3CQ1HPjDvMGbtf0evCOcGDubQD-D64dCGz8fZ0zVSvG7Sr0M_8edeP0Y77tQG-PdnQ/s320/grayson5.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Grayson - 26 weeker</td></tr>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7duWCY8TAnpMbRpdvwkma-ZCiRZfitb0iPiCOq6ZdFhAZYYMu6Nc90wtFbG6DNQwW9D109PLevap_iEJU1y6hwl3kA6O3t-bKRoUN0Va9UgnBINtFB_kQEKpayAYbrqO7nrvbWSWB7NQ/s1600/P1030528.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh7duWCY8TAnpMbRpdvwkma-ZCiRZfitb0iPiCOq6ZdFhAZYYMu6Nc90wtFbG6DNQwW9D109PLevap_iEJU1y6hwl3kA6O3t-bKRoUN0Va9UgnBINtFB_kQEKpayAYbrqO7nrvbWSWB7NQ/s320/P1030528.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;">Our daughter, Grayson, was born at 26 weeks. I had sudden eclampsia with a seizure. She weighed 1lb 3oz, was 12 inches long, and was a 10% chance of surviving through the first day. Since that day, Grayson has continued to overcome obstacles and battles that have come her way. She had ROP laser surgery as well as a gtube nissen surgery. Due to being intubated for almost 6 months she developed chronic lung disease. After 236 days in the NICU (2 different hospitals), she is home!! Grayson currently weighs 9lb 14oz and is 22 inches! She is our miracle, our hero, and the strongest girl we have ever met. We are so honored to be her parents! </span></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-22824678001529565412013-04-13T18:20:00.002-07:002013-04-13T18:20:35.558-07:00Kaidynn James by Katherine<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEumPB_aJPKsXVCZxFSZfVaOguf5_y_kZcsbf6hBO87xOHobvhgAOl_jJS97ZSnUp2Wm1h1j5N1iKBbSB2lBYEbVX5Rc1srPdnWhpTjK4Woqt_bdaXerCJPm5eV4vVoNSveWd3whhoLg/s1600/image_1365715416992780.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="318" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEivEumPB_aJPKsXVCZxFSZfVaOguf5_y_kZcsbf6hBO87xOHobvhgAOl_jJS97ZSnUp2Wm1h1j5N1iKBbSB2lBYEbVX5Rc1srPdnWhpTjK4Woqt_bdaXerCJPm5eV4vVoNSveWd3whhoLg/s320/image_1365715416992780.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Kaidynn James, 29 weeker</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; font-family: 'lucida grande', tahoma, verdana, arial, sans-serif; font-size: 10.909090995788574px; line-height: 13.991477012634277px;"><br /></span>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">Kaidynn James was born at 29 weeks. He was 3 pounds 8 ounces.
Around 2 weeks old, things were looking great. Around 2 and a half weeks old
they told us Kaidynn had a PDA/heart murmur. Not knowing anything about that, I
was freaking out. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">Being teen parents, we didn't have anyone there for us
besides our parents, but our parents weren't to happy with us either because
they only got to see Kaidynn for a short period of time during their visits. At
3 weeks and 1 day old, Kaidynn had his heart surgery. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; background-position: initial initial; background-repeat: initial initial; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">After being on a
ventilator for 3 day, he finally got put on regular oxygen supply thru a
nosepiece. Since he was born with no sucking reflex, the doctors and nurses had
to help teach him how to suck. Finally at 4 And a half weeks old, I got to feed
my son his first bottle. He remained on oxygen until 7 and a half weeks old. He
would do so good on his oxygen one day, then the next day he wasn't doing so
well with the lower amounts of oxygen given to him so they had to up his
oxygen. </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">I knew he was a fighter. You could see it in his eyes. After praying
and praying, he finally got the breathing thing down. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; line-height: 115%;">When he was 8 weeks old,
I went for my daily morning feeding and bonding time. His doctor came in, and
she told me the news I had been dreaming of hearing since I found out I was
pregnant. Your child is ready to come home. I was shocked. They told me he
would at least be there till his due date, maybe longer because of the heart
surgery. So at 8 weeks and 2 days old, I FINALLY got to put him in his carseat
and in the car and head 35 minutes back to our house. I was shocked, scared,
excited, and every other emotion possible. </span></div>
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Now we will be 9 months on the 26th. He has two teeth. He
sits up on his own, and we are starting to crawl! I always knew he was a
fighter. He has showed us that you can overcome any obstacle put in your way. I
still call up to the NICU at times to check and make sure the nurses are doing
okay. Over our period of time spent in the NICU, they became family to us. I
thank God everyday for my little miracle.</div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-80159791773742421592013-03-30T13:26:00.000-07:002013-03-30T13:26:33.832-07:00Cheylah + CJ (25 weeks)<span style="font-family: inherit;">“Either I’m pregnant or my period is coming early.” Read the
text I sent to my mother and boyfriend during my great grandmother’s repast. I
had been overly emotion since her death one week prior and couldn’t even sit
through the funeral. After eating, Tyrone, my cousin Lisa, and I made a trip to
Target where I looked at different pregnancy test. “Really Cheylah?” Lisa
questioned because I already had a 14 month old baby boy at home. “Really” I
respond as I continue searching until I find a double pack First Response
Pregnancy Kit. “I’ll take it tomorrow”. Tomorrow happened to be Father’s Day,
June 17, 2012. I woke up and grabbed the test. The two pack came with a digital
and a regular test. Tyrone said, “Take the digital” I thought to myself “Why?
It’s going to be negative”. I grabbed the regular test and peed in a cup,
dipped, wiped, looked. Positive. “Oh my God!” I ran into the room and grabbed
the digital and ran back to the bathroom to dip it. I came back into the room
pacing back in forth. “What’s wrong? Cheylah, what’s wrong?” Tyrone kept asking
over and over as I watched the hour glass dance on the small window. Finally
the word “Yes” popped up. I tossed the test to Tyrone, “Happy Father’s Day
Daddy!” This was the start of a wild ride.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /><br /><br />I made my first appointment as soon as I could. They did the
normal blood and urine and showed I was pregnant but the ultrasound showed
nothing. “Maybe the baby is ectopic? Maybe you are having a miscarriage. You
have to come back in 48 hours to do betas and a repeat ultrasound” said the
nurses and doctors. I came every two days for weeks. Only answer I got to give
me hope was that my uterus was thickening which happens with pregnancy. Finally
in early July I saw the little piece of rice! Finally my baby decided to show
itself. I was so happy and scared at the same time. I was working in pharmacy,
going to school, and taking care of my oldest Trenton at the time. I was
terrified of having two children under two years old but oh so happy my baby
growing inside of me was ok. A couple of weeks later I noticed bleeding. I
tried not to worry because I bled in my previous pregnancy and knew it could be
normal. I started to worry when the blood got bright red and heavier. I feared
I’d lost the baby. I went to the midwives office and found out I had a sub
chronic hematoma. I was told it could
subside on it’s on or I would lose my baby. “Sometimes things like this happen
Ms. Branch. Sometimes babies go away and come back to you when the time is
right.” I can’t even count the number of times I heard that line from one of
the midwives. I heard it so much I wanted to throat punch her. From then on, I
was told to only come in if I soaked a pad within an hour. Bleeding would be my
new norm. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">All was going as well as could be until one night a work. I
felt a gush and thought “Ew, maybe too much discharge.” I went to the bathroom
only to see blood everywhere. I came out and told my manager I had to go to the
emergency room NOW. I left work in a panic. <i>I
lost the baby. I know it, it’s too much blood.</i> I sobbed as I took the bus
ride to the hospital as I called my mother and boyfriend to tell them the news.
My mother tried to keep me calm and my boyfriend said he was on his way. Once
in the ER I waited and waited. I wasn’t seen for 3 hours. <i>I’m miscarrying and they won’t see me. This isn’t right.</i> Once in
the back a number of familiar tests were done; blood work, ultrasounds, urine
test. Everything came back normal. Baby bean was fine. The rest of the hematoma
had finally emptied. I was so relived! <i>Now
I can have a regular pregnancy! </i>I thought.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was having lots of nausea this time around, sensitivity to
sex, anything you can think of. I was sure this baby was a girl. I went for my
anatomy scan in September. Tyrone was running late. We were both convinced this
baby was a girl. We went on with the anatomy scan without him. “So, you have a
boy at home?” asked the ultrasound tech. “Yep, Trenton” “So you want a little
girl?” “I’d like one but I will be grateful for whatever God blesses me with” <i>As I watch my baby spread its legs I see a
penis, another boy! </i>“Well Ms. Branch, you’re having another boy!” “I see!”
I decided to name him Cameron Jacob, CJ for short. Everything looked fine
during the ultrasound. We confirmed I had an anterior placenta, which is why I
barely felt him move. We found out he was breeched as well. I was due to come
back for a follow-up October 30 to get better images of his heart and to see if
he flipped head down. I was ecstatic! When I went back to school and work I had
plenty of sonograms to show off. I was starting to feel him more as I would sit
in class. Things were going great. One week I got so upset (school related) I
started getting bad contractions. I was only 22 weeks. I called the midwife
line and they told me to calm down and drink water. I noticed I had started to
bleed again too. I was told to come in. One of the midwives checked me and said
I had a friable cervix. Drink plenty of fluid and rest when I can. The week of
my follow-up ultrasound came up but Hurricane Sandy had been in the area. The
ultrasound center called to cancel my appointment. I was so sad. “Mom, I really
needed this appointment. Something doesn’t feel right” “Cheylah, call them to
see when you can come in”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’d been feeling CJ kicking really low since the day I had
contractions. I thought it was all in my mind. I finally called and the
receptionist told me if I could get there within the hour I could be seen. I
told her I could do her one better and be there in 15 minutes. I live a 10 minute
walk away from the hospital. I left the house in pajamas and walked thinking of
all the things that could happen. I never imagine what WOULD happen. I went into my appointment so optimistic. So
excited to see my baby boy again. The ultrasound tech began the ultrasound.
Quiet. She’d asked me if I had experienced any cramping or contractions I told
her very few but I drank water and they stopped. “I need to switch to vaginal,
the baby’s foot is blocking the view of your cervix”. Okay. “Doctor you need to
come to room 3!” “What’s happening? What’s wrong with my baby?” I questioned.
“You have to wait for the doctor.” The doctor came in and looked herself. “Ms.
Branch I need to speak with you in my office, your cervix is shortening.” They
both finish up and leave. Leave me there with my thoughts. <i>What’s wrong? What does this mean? Is CJ going to be ok? Will I have to
go on bed rest? </i>My thoughts are interrupted by the tech telling me the
doctor was ready for me. Everything after this happened so fast.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">The doctor told me in so many words that in some images my
cervix was 0.8cm. In other images after that it had disappeared. Also, baby
still had not flipped and his cord was under him. I needed to go upstairs to
labor and delivery. I was going to be having my baby that night and he will
most likely not survive. I was only 23 weeks along. I sobbed. <i>God please don’t. I need him to survive. I
need him to be ok. </i>I called my mother and told her I was going to labor and
delivery and what had been said to me. She said a prayer. I called my boyfriend
and he said he was on the way. Once in labor and delivery an IV was started
(after 5 attempts) and several nurses, midwives, doctors, and neonatologist
were in and out of my room. Since CJ was still breeched I was forced to make a
decision. They wanted to know how I would want to deliver. If I delivered
vaginally his head would get stuck, causing brain damage and death. If I had a
cesarean I would hinder all future pregnancies because I would need a
traditional cut. He could also still die and I would have had the surgery for
“nothing”. Tyrone and I just looked at each other. He cried and told me to just
have him vaginally. We would hold him until we felt ready to give him up. He
said he didn’t want his son to suffer and didn’t want me to either. A
neonatologist, Dr. Cherian, came in and told me if the baby came now, at 23
weeks, he most likely wouldn’t survive. If he did he would be blind, deaf, or
mentally retarded. I had the choice of letting him come, going on bed rest in
the hospital, or aborting him. After lots of tears and speaking to lots of
people, a neonatologist by the name of Dr. Kierbak ultimately helped me to make
the decision to go on hospital bed rest. He gave me hope that it was a little
but good enough chance he could survive. I wanted to take the chance and do
whatever I needed to in order to give him a good chance of life. I just had one
request: If anytime he didn’t thrive let me know. I wanted to let him go. I
didn’t want him to have a life of suffering for my selfishness. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once I was stable and I decided to have a cesarean, I was
moved over to the antepartum unit. My new “studio apartment” (as I liked to
call it) was cool. I was on bed rest with bathroom privileges. I sent my
boyfriend home to retrieve some items for me especially my laptop. I continued
to let people know what was happening. I let my baby birth board’s group from
my oldest son know what was happening and the prayer chain started. Once I had
my laptop those ladies helped my sanity. I had twice a week BPPs to monitor the
baby and make sure my fluid was good. During the 24<sup>th</sup> week we
noticed my bag of water was starting to bulge. We were officially on baby
watch. If I felt my water break I was to call my nurse to have a fist inserted
to prevent cord prolapse until we were in the OR. Regardless of what happened
it was determined I would have an emergency c-section and would be put under.
On November 11, the nurse came in to do CJ’s nightly monitoring. The nurse who
always found him wasn’t on that night. (She always said he was the size of a 28
weeker and would ask if I was sure of my dates. Always said he would be 2 lbs.
The little stinker would always give nurses trouble but not her). While on the
monitor I felt contractions. The nurse would come in and tell me I’d have to
stay on longer than the 15 minutes because he moved and I was contracting.
Finally, a doctor came in and did a pelvic exam. She saw my water bulging with
his foot on top of it. “Take her to labor and delivery.”<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I prayed so hard he would stay in and the contractions would
stop. When I got over to L&D the nurse, Angela, was waiting. She was so
nice! She started me on magnesium (aka devil drug) and kept me company. Once on
magnesium I wasn’t allowed to get up anymore or eat. Bed rest was starting to
get to me. Because it was cold and flu season I had only seen Trenton once. I
didn’t have a lot of people see me but when I had company I was so grateful. I
was lonely. Lonely, hungry, tired, and wanting it to be over. I felt so guilty.
I wanted my baby to stay in and bake but I wanted the hell I was going through
to end. On November 15<sup>th</sup>, the magnesium was turned off. I was able
to eat and go to the restroom. I was so happy! Angela had come with her
roommate Laura (another nurse) and planned to give me a “spa night”. All was
well until I went to the bathroom and saw blood. “ANGELA!” I screamed. “Ms.
Branch you may be dilating more. It’s ok” I went to the bathroom again and saw
more blood, and then she called the doctor. My team came in and did an
ultrasound. CJ had his foot in the birth canal.
The doctors were hoping he would retract his foot by morning but until
then I was back on strict bed rest and had to start magnesium again. I cried.
Angela was so sweet and kind to me. She started a new IV for me (IV phobia
here) and stayed through the bolus. She told me she was going on break. I asked
her if the baby came would she be there. She promised she would. I had to go to
the bathroom again so the nurses covering for Angela asked did I want the pan
or another cath. I chose cath. As soon as she finished inserting it I felt a
gush. “I think my water broke!” <i>*gush and contraction* </i>“My water!!” The nurse checked me and
there wasn’t any water. I was bleeding. She called the doctors and my team came
in. I kept feeling gushes of fluid and contractions. Since CJ was so low the
contractions didn’t pick up. One doctor came in and put her hand in me to keep
the cord from coming. “She’s at a 10 but her water is still intact.” My midwife
Ebony came in and told me it was time to go. It was 1 am on November 16<sup>th</sup>.
Everything went crazy. One nurse gave me my phone to call my mom and boyfriend
but no one could come. Mom had Trent and my boyfriend had no way to the
hospital. I was rolled back to the OR. I kept asking for Angela and she finally
appeared. I remember apologizing for messing up her lunch break. She said it
was ok and she wouldn’t miss it. SO much madness was happening. Next thing I
remember is being put under then being awakened but pressure on my stomach. I
went to scream but couldn’t because I had a tube down my throat. I opened my
eyes to look around. I didn’t see my baby. Just Angela. She told me he was ok.
He cried when he came out and he was so beautiful. I fell asleep.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I was in and out of it for a while. Before I went under I
asked the nurses to take pictures of him for me. So while I waited for my pain
meds, I looked through the photos of my tiny little guy. I’d fall asleep, wake
up to loom through pictures, fall asleep, wake up to call and text people and
repeat. Cameron Jacob entered the world on November 16, 2012 at 1:27a weighing
1lb 15.5oz and 14 inches long. Around 5 am Angela took me to the NICU to see my
son. He was so tiny. In his new home, the isolette. I fell asleep again. When I woke up I called my mom and she came
to the hospital. She checked on me and then went to see CJ. She said he was so
little. I was in so much pain. After being on magnesium for so long I couldn’t
move my left side. I wanted to get up so bad to see my baby. I finally saw him
that night. He was on SiPAP. So many machines. So many alarms. It hurt to see
him like that. I got my NICU orientation paperwork and went back to my room. I
wanted to breastfeed so a pump was waiting for me upon my return. I started
pumping. The next day I took my drop to the NICU and was told “You can’t
control what happens here [NICU] but you can control the milk you give your
baby”. I made it my priority to pump!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On November 19</span><sup style="font-family: inherit;">th</sup><span style="font-family: inherit;"> I was discharged. I took the
long, agonizing walk to the NICU to say goodbye to my baby. It was so hard. I
cried as I held him little foot. His little trouble making foot, and told him I
would be there as much as possible no matter what. I kept it brief and sweet.
As I walked out of the NICU, down the hall back to my room I broke down. I
couldn’t walk. I couldn’t believe I was leaving without him. I had tried so
hard for weeks to keep him in. I failed. I wanted him home. I cried so hard my
mom found me and helped me up. “He will be ok Chey.” After 76 days in the NICU,
CJ was released on January 31, 2013 with just an apnea monitor. He has done so
well to be born so prematurely. He is 4 months old (1 month adjusted) and came
off of his apnea monitor on March 27</span><sup style="font-family: inherit;">th</sup><span style="font-family: inherit;">. I am so blessed to have my
little miracle in my life.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-7211472821166772732013-03-08T06:57:00.000-08:002013-03-10T13:34:13.479-07:00The Dress by Desinee (Desinee + Evan = 31 Weeks)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG4SrdSSQi_F4Qw7OjrkYH1dMEuxdtXIcykKRk3atKoADi7aQKSTpyXFJyt-3npj7gXEVJO9azAwuoLCJmKnLJAJlFJgKWtp8Ksrtb4dhdBSyp-uLvWOyZM4FxgGWMUN2q3lVmive8WLc/s1600/valentines+day.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img alt="" border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiG4SrdSSQi_F4Qw7OjrkYH1dMEuxdtXIcykKRk3atKoADi7aQKSTpyXFJyt-3npj7gXEVJO9azAwuoLCJmKnLJAJlFJgKWtp8Ksrtb4dhdBSyp-uLvWOyZM4FxgGWMUN2q3lVmive8WLc/s400/valentines+day.JPG" title=""The Dress" by Desinee (Preemie Resources)" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Born at 31 weeks - now covered in kisses. </td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">A dress is just a dress... unless it's not. To many pregnant women </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1362753265_0" style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">maternity clothes</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; font-size: small;"> are a burden. Something they are stuck with until they can fit back into their regular clothes. To a preemie mom they are a reminder of what she didn't have. A big belly which housed and protected a full term baby.</span><br />
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51935" style="font-family: inherit;"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51934">I was about six months pregnant when I had to buy a dress for a big work function. While shopping I found "the dress" that I had to have for my baby shower. The shower was supposed to be a surprise but there were enough hints going around that I knew it was eventually coming. When I tried on the dress I imagined myself at my shower surrounded by my friends and family with my big belly filling out the loose fitting dress. It was strange to me because I never had this feeling while I was shopping for my wedding dress. Maybe it was the pregnancy hormones but tears filled my eyes in the dressing room of that maternity store and when the manager came to see if I was alright or needed anything she laughed and said "I guess you like the dress?"</span></span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51938" style="font-family: inherit;"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51937"><span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="text-align: justify;">I took the dress home and hung it in the closet where it waited for the day I could wear it</span>.</span> I never took the tags off because I didn't want to be tempted to wear it for any other occasion. That was in May 2012... the tags are still on the dress. I unexpectedly had my son one month later.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOwMXlopjknAtANrILH916boshclli_5ylTcWPnOTIhfL7RMCUnC2HnwS3vOFUiG6223X-x5v244gpL1eHJi9iLndsLgty_307dXUpXq7KUNdmJBLjlt12lkpsqC_PddAjdukmLA5z8U/s1600/dande3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiLOwMXlopjknAtANrILH916boshclli_5ylTcWPnOTIhfL7RMCUnC2HnwS3vOFUiG6223X-x5v244gpL1eHJi9iLndsLgty_307dXUpXq7KUNdmJBLjlt12lkpsqC_PddAjdukmLA5z8U/s400/dande3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">This picture was right after I gave birth... they surprised me and allowed me to hold him for a few seconds. I was a mess because they had told me I would not be allowed to see him because he would be rushed to NICU. It was the most special surprise of my life. </span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had a<span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span></span><span style="font-family: inherit;">relatively</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> easy pregnancy. I didn't get sick and hadn't gained a lot of weight. My husband and I went on a "babymoon" that was planned before we got pregnant and while we were there my feet swelled but I thought it was the walking and bad food I indulged in. My blood pressure always stayed low until one night when I was reading and started to see spots. I knew immediately something was wrong. My doctors told me to go to triage immediately "just to be checked out." There they<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51941"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51940"> diagnosed me with severe pre-eclampsia. I was on strict hospital bed rest for what felt like weeks but was really only four days. They had me hooked up to monitors and IV's and monitored me around the clock. My baby never showed a sign of distress which was a huge relief. Everyone at the hospital told me I'd be there for a few weeks, which I later found out this was a lie to keep me calm... I guess it worked because my blood pressure returned to normal. They were able to administer the two steroid injections for my baby's lungs before telling me I was being induced. During this time I was oblivious to the fact that I was in danger. My amazing husband was my rock and worried for both of us so I could focus on keeping calm and holding out as long as I could. One conversation I clearly remember through the haze of emotions and drugs was picking baby names. We had decided on our girl's name before we were even married but we hadn't decided on a name for a son. We picked Evan which was fitting because we later found out that it meant young fighter and he was both of these things.</span></span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3nUf12UvKWkUgUzLMJ5U9AW41YkY1yU-Sz0DUZzqbcVcboFuGeEX1pWCCJQPyA67q1hNxIQM9_4sQl-ENXmbtdogKXcHGuWghLauSiC_t-TTR0ZXqdYbzdgBH2zvvapZuggw-3FPW7M/s1600/one+day+old.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjo3nUf12UvKWkUgUzLMJ5U9AW41YkY1yU-Sz0DUZzqbcVcboFuGeEX1pWCCJQPyA67q1hNxIQM9_4sQl-ENXmbtdogKXcHGuWghLauSiC_t-TTR0ZXqdYbzdgBH2zvvapZuggw-3FPW7M/s400/one+day+old.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">This is when he was one day old. I was still on bed rest so I hadn't seen him since the delivery room although our family was able to see him. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">Our son came into the world eight weeks and two days premature. Preemie moms do that if you didn't notice. We measure in days when others <span style="font-family: inherit;">measure in weeks or months and measure in cc's or ounces when others measure in pounds. </span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; text-align: justify;">Evan was born in June and my shower was scheduled for two weeks later.</span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;"><span style="font-family: inherit;"> Immediately I heard the questions. "Do we still have it?" "Would she want to go?" I pulled my mom to the </span>side and told her that I overheard the questions and that I would need a reprieve from the weeks of NICU time I had ahead of me and it would be nice to see friends and family. I had no idea how hard that day would be from leaving my son for the day in NICU to realizing I could not wear my dress.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBoUWGiHj8yveanzXOYMEviFVNKWo9pvN43M0ZxktQ9jxnRwlX8YCkdxfSQUALYjli81PdTAIQQvz3f5pc2LaM2wbxZnl5QUWRIHRvSDlL3pDGZ_qKwf8CRPRVG2uBCnvAbjuWF-UkFw/s1600/seeing+him+first+time.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEizBoUWGiHj8yveanzXOYMEviFVNKWo9pvN43M0ZxktQ9jxnRwlX8YCkdxfSQUALYjli81PdTAIQQvz3f5pc2LaM2wbxZnl5QUWRIHRvSDlL3pDGZ_qKwf8CRPRVG2uBCnvAbjuWF-UkFw/s400/seeing+him+first+time.JPG" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white; font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">This is when they finally wheeled me in to see him. I was bawling and scared. I had seen pictures but I didn't know exactly what to expect when I first saw the NICU. I don't think anyone can be prepared for that moment. </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">On the day of the shower we went to see our son and I kissed him and held him and cried. It broke my heart that I had to leave him for the shower but I couldn't back out. On the way to the shower we pulled over in a residential area so that I could pump. It felt so unnatural pumping before my baby shower... I was supposed to still be pregnant. I also made my husband take me shopping on the way to the shower to buy another outfit. I hated every outfit I had and there was good reason. I had been dreaming of that day in the dress I picked months before. Nothing felt right.</span></div>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51944" style="font-family: inherit;"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51943">The shower was beautiful. I laughed and cried and thanked everyone for their love and support and warned them of the battles ahead. Sanitizing for months. Locking down over the winter. Not meeting Evan until he was a few months older than they expected. As beautiful as the shower was I could not wait to leave and hold my son again. That night I saw the dress peaking out from the back of my closet. I closed the closet door and tried to forget about the dress.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvH8FOcDO_ImelmqK-qrO8fP0rSscp0z5cUzh60OoddgiIh_vwnrFsxp6szI8U9_WljU9tacRLW97WXFHmZqpvXToFpvFZ-Rtl45d9Q8YeE5jT7nXXnDAgfcZr0e3_jQcfMOSyV8KR1j0/s1600/dande1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgvH8FOcDO_ImelmqK-qrO8fP0rSscp0z5cUzh60OoddgiIh_vwnrFsxp6szI8U9_WljU9tacRLW97WXFHmZqpvXToFpvFZ-Rtl45d9Q8YeE5jT7nXXnDAgfcZr0e3_jQcfMOSyV8KR1j0/s400/dande1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">This is our first family picture. It was taken when Evan was four days old and Tim was doing Kangaroo care with him.</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few months later I decided it was time to pack away my maternity clothes. I remember packing them up wondering if I'd ever wear them again and thinking that I should still be in them. Most of the clothes meant nothing to me. A pair of jeans that I wore once or twice, a dress that never fit quite right, or a skirt that was too short anyway. But then I got to the dress. It was as beautiful as I remembered and still had those damn tags hanging on it. I sat on the floor crying. By this time my son was home with us and my husband came upstairs thinking something had happened to him. I felt stupid telling him that I was crying over a dress but he didn't say anything and just hugged me. There were many of those moments in the months after Evan was born. Times I would cry over seemingly nothing or sob uncontrollably over good things. It broke my heart that the dress never got its day to shine. I had let down my son and I let down that dress... or at least that is how it felt to me at the time.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Shortly after that night I went to a baby shower for a friend. This was a big step for me and was harder than I ever let on. I walked into the shower and the sister of the mother of honor was also pregnant ... wearing MY dress. No it wasn't really my dress but it was the same one. Worn by someone else... at another shower. I wanted to run out of the doors and cry and go home but I stayed strong and tried not to look at the dress the entire time. I felt rude but if she had any idea what was going on in my head she would have understood.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexzVn12KbVsi-ERlmYe3zFvM9KbkNFtl2plGMP9jG_tQIUDHlyYQlNyvt9MFKE-T_kp4WNU2a5oPb7G21IUMvOFBv4YZTegjUuflYHgYI9N7z-0sFhcDkwp61qFVPIUQ9-byUMpmfMl0/s1600/dande2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjexzVn12KbVsi-ERlmYe3zFvM9KbkNFtl2plGMP9jG_tQIUDHlyYQlNyvt9MFKE-T_kp4WNU2a5oPb7G21IUMvOFBv4YZTegjUuflYHgYI9N7z-0sFhcDkwp61qFVPIUQ9-byUMpmfMl0/s400/dande2.jpg" width="265" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: 'times new roman', 'new york', times, serif; font-size: 14px; text-align: justify;">Finally, a picture taken to celebrate being nine months old. I cannot believe how big he is getting and when I look back at pictures of where we started it's hard to believe he's the same tiny little boy in those pictures! </span></td></tr>
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<span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51947" style="font-family: inherit;"><span id="yui_3_7_2_1_1362460483603_51946">Recently my husband and I discussed having another child... eventually. After Evan was born my husband said no more kids. After seeing me and his child both at risk he couldn't handle it. But after a few months with our son we knew we had to go through the rollercoaster again. Of course the thought of it all is scary. Will the baby be early? Will the baby be healthy? Will I be safe and healthy? Will I finally get my big belly? We cannot answer these questions. But there is one question I know the answer to. Will the tags finally be torn off that dress? YES!</span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-58644650142057787302013-03-06T06:19:00.001-08:002013-03-06T13:24:20.264-08:00Deanna + Oliver (35 Weeks)<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit;">My first two trimesters of pregnancy were pretty normal with all the average pains and discomforts. I started getting pretty bad swelling in the middle of my second trimester. Around week 24 I even had to get an ultrasound on my left leg because they were concerned I had a blood clot. It was around that time they started drilling the symptoms of pre-e into my head, telling me to call immediately if I started to experience them. My swelling improved a little with pressure stockings and I continued on in my pregnancy. Around week 28 I was diagnosed with Gestational Diabetes and was warned that this also increased my risk for pre-e. But it wasn't until around week 30 that I went in for a normal check-up and my blood pressure was very high. I was sent straight to the hospital to get a Non-stress test in labor and delivery. It was scary but after laying down for about an hour my blood pressure went down to a safe place. I was sent home and the next day I did my first 24-hour collection test. I ended up in labor and delivery the next day with really high blood pressure again. This time my NST took about 6 hours while they tried different things to get the readings they wanted from my son. Eventually they gave me IV fluids (it took them 4 tries to get the IV placed!) and was released again afterwards. From there on out I was on bed rest. I had no idea what to do with myself, I went from working over 40 hours a week managing a salon which I walked to and from every day, to not even being able to walk down to my mailbox. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">The next few weeks were full of marathon napping and intense boredom and loneliness. My favorite days were the 2 days each week I would go in for NST's. They told me to have my bags packed for the hospital because any appointment may end in me being sent to deliver. They did a growth ultrasound at 34 weeks and I was told my son was already 5 lbs and would likely be around 8 or 9 if I went to 40 weeks. I was put on labetalol to try and lower my blood pressure, though it just continued to rise even as we increased my dosage. I'm really glad I was able to hold out as long as I did and that my son was already so big (from the GD I guess?). I made it to week 35 before another 24 hour collection test came back showing a high level of protein in my urine. The same day the results came back my left leg had suddenly swollen a massive amount. My OB had me go in to see her and scheduled another ultrasound for my leg. When I got to my OB's office she checked me out and tested my reflexes. My reflexes were scary jumpy, she told me she was cancelling the ultrasound on my leg and would have someone do it later on in the hospital. I was sent straight to labor and delivery to get on a magnesium drip to prevent a seizure. When we got there we had to check in, I remember the lady at the desk asked me my name and when I opened my mouth to tell her I just started crying. My husband had to check me in. </span></span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUWzm0GoRfv4zMftZk1ovIHqOsCz97D8VgpnXarcbxfS-_f0c5bnmQm0tJPfaE3g_yvyoxqyNcS6tW2Q465_xaC_HrOlWUqC6x4UrMXGaq89MoCzdXdEsxTJU4rWNnfz2X-TzHkf1Xm4/s1600/image+%25281%2529.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYUWzm0GoRfv4zMftZk1ovIHqOsCz97D8VgpnXarcbxfS-_f0c5bnmQm0tJPfaE3g_yvyoxqyNcS6tW2Q465_xaC_HrOlWUqC6x4UrMXGaq89MoCzdXdEsxTJU4rWNnfz2X-TzHkf1Xm4/s400/image+%25281%2529.jpeg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">First snuggles at 4 days old.</span></span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">So we got settled into the hospital room. Again it took the nurses a few tries to place my IV. This was the beginning of becoming a human pin cushion for the next three days. Blood draws every 3 hours, and testing my blood sugar every hour until I had delivered. They started my induction around </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1362578608_0" style="background-color: white;">6pm</span><span style="background-color: white;"> with prostaglandin gel, later on adding pitocin to my IV. My OB was on call at her other hospital so the on-call from her practice was in charge of me for most of my labor. I had never met her before but I am so grateful for her. I really didn't want my induction to end in a c-section and I really felt like she was on my team. I labored for 12 hours before my cervix did anything. She told me before she checked it that as long as it had done something she would let me keep laboring. I was only a fingertip dilated, which she said was less than a cm, but it was a change so she would let me keep going. I had another six hours to get to 3-4cm to have my waters broken or it was off to c-section land. Well about 5 hours later my water broke on it's own (my tiny victory!). This was also when labor really started to get unpleasant. There was lots of throwing up, my IV site was throbbing, the pitocin induced contractions sans the bag of waters were more painful than I could handle. The nurse let me get into a hot bath (with the IV, monitors, blood pressure cuff and all) but it did not help as much as I had hoped it would. So I finally agreed to an epidural. I had really wanted to "go natural". But really there is nothing natural about being induced, pumped full of magnesium and pitocin, and being strapped into bed with monitors around your stomach and a blood pressure cuff squeezing the life out of your arm every 10 minutes...so...I decided the "natural" ship had sailed anyway. After the epidural I got to relax for less than an hour before the pressure on my pelvic floor was so intense I asked the nurse to check me. 10 cm and baby at station +1! They called my OB, who got someone to cover her on-call shift at the other hospital, so she could come deliver my son. She got there an hour later and we started pushing. It took awhile, and I definitely almost fainted, but finally I pushed out my 5lb 5oz little shmooshie.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I was scared, of course, when my OB told me I had to be induced. I was nervous when she explained the odds and statistics of what most babies born at 35 weeks are like. For some reason I was really optimistic, I had not really prepared myself mentally that he might not be ok.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I remember my OB placing him on my stomach with his back to me, I reached down to touch him but immediately someone from the NICU picked him up and said "I'm taking him." There was a lot of hustle and bustle around the little baby station at the other side of the room. My husband and mother watched the nurses work and I couldn't hear my baby. I was so scared, I kept asking them what was happening but no one responded to me. Finally I started hearing baby noises. At the time I thought they were good noises but later it was explained to me they were just labored grunts from my son trying to breathe. While I laid in the bed having a tear sewn up they bundled up my son, bagged him, and wheeled him out of the room. It was like I had been in a car wreck, it happened so quick and I really wasn't expecting it and then he was gone.</span><br style="background-color: white;" /><br style="background-color: white;" /><span style="background-color: white;">I got to meet my son about an hour later (I think?) down in the nicu. He was born in respiratory distress and had some fluid retention in his lungs. The first few days were scary and confusing, the cpap was a bit of a roller coaster. People kept assuring me he was fine but then alarms kept going off and they would increase his oxygen. It took a few days but he finally got over the desats. When they switched him to the high flow nasal cannula at 4 days old I finally got to hold him. His IV came out after 6 days and he spent the rest of his nicu stay learning how to eat, a few tries at the breast but mostly the bottle. He was in the nicu for a total of 13 days.</span></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Oliver's Graduation Day, unplugged and ready to peace out!</span></span></td></tr>
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<br />Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-85149953655376669402013-02-11T18:56:00.002-08:002013-04-25T06:10:47.637-07:00Virginia by Alyssa<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJu00zDY3xbovx58-5jgIua3M3iV4DM6IPdEnp1yYWMmM6WJvkP7y7AFfGk9FIsYjlguJOlyzFoAahFgGo9ETADm4t9uxZgfDXZ8eH1xu_V9zbJyiQ0y4ov6LflZLerHAbyPv31lMQH0/s1600/IMG_2178.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhoJu00zDY3xbovx58-5jgIua3M3iV4DM6IPdEnp1yYWMmM6WJvkP7y7AFfGk9FIsYjlguJOlyzFoAahFgGo9ETADm4t9uxZgfDXZ8eH1xu_V9zbJyiQ0y4ov6LflZLerHAbyPv31lMQH0/s400/IMG_2178.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Born at 25 weeks - Virginia</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: white; font-family: inherit; line-height: 19px;">Its been a year since our parenting journey started on this wild ride. The crisp mornings and early sunsets that make September different from August in the Northeast are such instinctual reminders of this time last year. It was in that month before her birth that I realized how precious life is, how important faith is, what a truly amazing husband I have, and what an incredible support system of friends and family we have. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">Until 20 weeks I had a perfectly normal pregnancy. I had been working out 5-6 days a week, eating (mostly) healthy, and had perfect checkups and ultrasounds. Around 20 weeks I started to notice my tummy occasionally getting hard while I was working out or sitting for a long period of time. Initially I thought it was the baby rolling, but then realized that it was likely </span><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1360557529_4" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">braxton hicks contractions</span><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">. Dr. Google told me that it was normal to have them that early but it still made me nervous. I had previously had a uterine surgery (septoplasty) that I knew put me a slightly higher risk for pre-term labor and cervical issues. Because of my history I had made a plan with my OB at the first appointment to have monthly ultrasounds to monitor for any cervical changes. Once I started noticing sporadic braxton hicks contractions I called my OB and asked that we move up my scheduled ultrasound from 23 weeks to 21 weeks. He agreed and also eased my concerns stating that serious complications would be rare even with my history, but it was worth being cautious. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">I was convinced that everything was fine, but was glad that I would have piece of mind after the ultrasound. Unfortunately I knew something was definitely wrong as soon as I saw the ultrasound image on the screen mounted to the wall in front of me... the baby's tiny feet were slipped down into what looked like a funnel. This is definitely not what my weekly "your baby is this big" email from </span><a href="http://babycenter.com/" rel="nofollow" style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px; outline: 0px;" target="_blank"><span class="yshortcuts" id="lw_1360557529_5">babycenter.com</span></a><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"> looked like. In an instant my heart sank, my hands shook, and my mind went blank. My cervix was funneling and measuring 2.2 cm. A full 1 cm shorter than the measurement at my ultrasound 3 weeks prior. Again, my doctor put me at ease. He explained that while my cervix was effacing much earlier than normal it did not mean that I couldn't continue to have a healthy pregnancy, albeit one spent on bedrest. I felt better, composed myself and left the office determined to do everything I could do to keep the baby cooking. We canceled all of our plans for traveling to our niece's baptism and babymoon in Montauk and set up a new routine at home. I was ready to spend the next 4ish months alternating between my bed and the couch. My first week of bedrest went really well. I hardly had any braxton hicks contractions, I was able to get quite a bit of work done from home, my spirits were high, and we already had so much support. It was a week later and a week closer to a healthy baby. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">Again, I walked into my OB's office pretty confident that things would be ok. I thought for sure that the measurements would either be the same or maybe even better. Afterall I had gone from being very active (including long runs and workouts) to laying around and doing nothing for a week. This time I had no idea what I was looking at when the image came up on the screen. I didn't need to though, the look on the ultrasound technician's face was an unmistakable look of sympathy. There was basically nothing left to measure and they sent me right over to the hospital for observation, testing and a possible cerclage the next morning. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">The two days that followed were the hardest of our lives. We had consultations with many doctors. We were hopeful that a cerclage to stitch my cervix shut could be done, but didn't meet a single doctor willing to recommend the procedure because of the risk of sending me into immediate labor. Even the doctors that suggested that our baby had very little chance of making it to viability were unwilling to perform a cerclage. It was unbelievably confusing, scary and heartbreaking. Over those 2 days, My Husband and I talked about things that no expectant parents should have to discuss. Would we name the baby? Would we baptize the baby? Would we want to be alone? It was a relief to discuss and decide on the unimaginable and move on so we wouldn't have to make these decisions at even more emotional and stressful moments. From then on we only accepted hope and despite all the grim statistics we decided to believe that we would be okay. </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">We counted days, days that felt like years. Somehow days turned into a week and then another week and suddenly we had reached viability. I received steroids to help the baby's lungs mature and was moved from the general gynecology floor to the antepartum maternity floor where they were better equipped to monitor my condition. We went from desperation veiled as hope to so much hope. My first ultrasound in 2 weeks revealed that everything was the same. I was still fully effaced but was not dilated. It seemed like I had stabilized! My doctors were equally surprised and confident that it meant that I could remain pregnant for much longer than anyone expected. I was even given a discharge date of December 10th (32 weeks). </span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">Again we were confident. No contractions, the baby was growing well, I felt good, I had a steady stream of visitors, and we were prepared to spend the next 8 weeks in the hospital. Just a few days later, late in the night on a Tuesday things deteriorated, I felt different and knew something was wrong. I will never forget the fear as I waited for the chief resident to come to my room. I shook like a leaf; fear and disbelief once again took over. The resident determined that I was 3cm dilated and my membranes were in the birth canal. In a matter of minutes they were inserting IVs into my arm and wheeling me to the labor and delivery floor. I called my Husband, who didnt hear any of the phone calls. We have no family and the area, so I ultimately had to call the police to go knock on our door to awake my husband. It must have been the scariest night of his life too, he walked into the hospital not knowing if I had already delivered. During the wee hours of the night, while in the haze and overwhelming heat of magnesium, there were ultrasounds showing that the baby was in the least favorable position of feet down, we met with anesthesiologists, met with my on call OB, met with the on call MFM and most sobering of all we met with the neonatoligist. We were once again given the statistics; survival statistics and disability statistics for a baby born at 24.5 weeks. She also attempted to prepare us for what we would see and how they would attempt to help our baby. Hours turned into shifts and then days and somehow things stabilized again. I desperately wanted to get back to my room on the antepartum floor and desperately wanted to be able eat again (I was NPO for several days while on magnesium). I felt like a ticking time bomb on the labor and delivery floor (I was) and wanted to go back to "my" room where I hoped to turn days into weeks again.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">After 3.5 days in a labor and delivery room on strict bedrest (otherwise known as the the 7th level of bedrest hell where catheters, bedpans and sponge baths are very much a reality) my doctor agreed to let me go back to "my" room on strict bedrest. I told him I was ready to last another few weeks and for the first time he didn't share the same optimism. He gave it to us real. It was Friday afternoon. He was on call all weekend and said he wouldn't be going home all weekend. He didn't think I would still be pregnant when he signed off to the next OB on Sunday night and wanted to be sure he was "in house" for what would likely be an emergency situation. He anticipated that my water would break and had us prepared for a crash c-section and a very frantic but well rehearsed series of events.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">By dinnertime on Friday the 21st I was back in "my" room and more importantly back in "my" bed which was far more comfortable than the beds on labor and delivery which were very clearly made for birthing babies and not for sleeping. In hindsight I was very much preparing for Virginia's immanent birth while putting on a face of strength and hope. We narrowed down names to 2 boys names and 2 girls names, something that we hadn't discussed since the series of unfathomable conversations that Heath and I had during those first 2 days in the hospital. By the next morning I knew I was going to give birth that day. I tried to convince myself otherwise, but even my favorite Resident's prediction that I would prove my OB wrong and make it to Thanksgiving was not enough to distract me from what I already knew. I called my nurse a few times and she said they weren't picking up any contractions on the monitor belts that had been strapped to my belly for the last few weeks. I called her again and asked her to page my doctor. I was right. I was 7cm dilated, as scary thought since she was still breech and a baby so small can be delivered before being the full 10cm dilated. I thankfully skipped my breakfast knowing that I would need a c-section and was soon back down in the same Labor and Delivery room.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">If you have to give birth to a baby 15 weeks early, you want it to be under the most controlled and ideal circumstances. Somehow I had avoided infection and somehow my water had not broken. We were down in Labor and Delivery under fairly calm conditions. There was definite tension in the air as micropreemie births are not an every day occurrence even in the best of hospitals. The calm erupted into controlled chaos when they thought the baby was going into distress. Suddenly seconds felt like hours until I was in the OR and they confirmed that the baby was fine. Things calmed down and instead of being put under general anesthesia I held my OB's hand as they tried and tried and tried and finally succeeded at giving me a spinal. It was all so surreal- it still is. My most distinct memory of that day is laying flat on the cold operating table and looking down at my bare belly before they put up the blue screen. I could see the tips of my toes, the little pregnant belly I had in the days prior was mostly gone because the baby was so far down in my pelvis. It was so unsettling, so surreal. Heath joined me in the OR as they started the operation. He sat on the left side of my head and held my hand. Within minutes the baby was out. 11:11am. Absent was a cry that we wouldn't hear for another 8 weeks. 10 or 15 minutes later they announced it was a girl and let us know that she was successfully intubated. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;">The rest was hazy and none of it mattered. It was a new fight, a fight that I unfortunately could no longer fight for Virginia. We could only hope, pray and BELIEVE that she would fight. This is the end of this story and the beginning of the most amazing story I have ever known.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 19px;"><b><i><a href="http://virginiakkent.blogspot.com/2012/09/virginias-month-long-birth-story.html" target="_blank">You can read Alyssa's full account of her birth story on her blog.</a></i></b></span></span><br />
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-65483053862876638292013-01-07T18:55:00.002-08:002013-01-07T18:55:43.400-08:00Free NICU Bedside Printables!<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-MFkGqWJ8WFqWVPpf_jqqnUUjPVDqFYfHnxpmEmUuupsl7RMfRb3g7t03DkhHcO_I58Zw2ZC_BeS3VMpkyRXLQRMFTOdZ8l2ky7Suzussq7AuvI5sIW_ujOpa1RDMDOTjQZGXUFy__xg/s1600/Babys+Note+to+Nurses+2.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj-MFkGqWJ8WFqWVPpf_jqqnUUjPVDqFYfHnxpmEmUuupsl7RMfRb3g7t03DkhHcO_I58Zw2ZC_BeS3VMpkyRXLQRMFTOdZ8l2ky7Suzussq7AuvI5sIW_ujOpa1RDMDOTjQZGXUFy__xg/s320/Babys+Note+to+Nurses+2.JPG" width="240" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://cnsfoundation.blogspot.ca/p/bedside-printables.html">Click here for MORE</a> NICU bedside Printables!</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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Seriously, how cute are these? Cheer up your spot, thanks to the <a href="http://cnsfoundation.blogspot.ca/p/bedside-printables.html">Canadian NICU Support Foundation!</a></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-72383646175776653032012-11-05T19:16:00.000-08:002013-04-25T06:09:30.230-07:00Lauren + Kate (32 week twins) by Andrea<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnr0CQZUzQ6CDTccMkAsAkAgfF-FUd6MnBqm4sS9rOoatTjBb1EGeSrPuVKP2qvztHqdixtdDR2ymUr8vKM7u_Bwe7jMWIYrXAf7QlgNHBj3tJerR2SAYjkh5ARusGRYkeEOcI3FrSAJs/s1600/182559_4710699652911_812708567_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="313" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjnr0CQZUzQ6CDTccMkAsAkAgfF-FUd6MnBqm4sS9rOoatTjBb1EGeSrPuVKP2qvztHqdixtdDR2ymUr8vKM7u_Bwe7jMWIYrXAf7QlgNHBj3tJerR2SAYjkh5ARusGRYkeEOcI3FrSAJs/s400/182559_4710699652911_812708567_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am
a NICU mom, a twin mom, and an AMA mom.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">
</span><span style="font-family: inherit;">(that last one is Advanced Maternal age).</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I was 39 when I was blessed with my twin
pregnancy.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I am also an adoptive mom to
my 14 year old son.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">I did have
complications.</span><span style="font-family: inherit;"> </span><span style="font-family: inherit;">Gestational diabetes, a
SCH (Sub chorionic hematoma), bleeding, cramping, and throwing up for the first
27 weeks. :/</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My
sweet girls were born preemie at 32 weeks on the dot. I am a former NICU nurse, and I never, ever
thought I would be a NICU mama. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
felt cramps, and ignored them. I would
later find out, it was PTL, Preterm Labor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I am
angry at myself for my girls’ early delivery.
I should clarify and say, I hated my body on that day. It failed my girls and it failed me. I didn’t want to have babies in the NICU…I
was trained to take care of preemies …not at all prepared to be a mom on the
other side of the fence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lauren
was born vaginally and Kate was born via c-section on July 20, 2010. I recovered on a GYN floor. Found out later, I was on that floor instead
of regular Mother/Baby unit so I would not hear babies crying. It was too quiet and I didn’t like it at
all. I even asked why I was <i>not</i> on the regular mother/baby unit, and
a nurse said, “we do that so you won’t get sad hearing the babies cry.” I wanted to hear babies cry. I was a Mom just like those “term” moms. My babies were in the NICU, but I still was a
mom. Being on that floor away from all
the other moms and babies was awful. It was hard enough being in a completely
separate building from them. And to be
on a floor with a ton of old geezers in for GYN stuff was depressing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">My
girls were in the hospital for 2 months.
And it was NICU hell.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
think knowing all that I did about preemies was good and not so good. I knew too much. And it was hard for me to be Mom, because I
was used to being the nurse in the room.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I’m
going to be honest: I was not a fan of
pumping breast milk. I did it for my girls. I knew their bowels were premature, and BM
would be the best nutrition for them. I
only pumped for a total of 3 months. I
had to stop, as it was making me a stress case.
I never got much milk and I tried just about every piece of advice I was
given to produce more milk. My body was
failing me again, and failing my girls. <o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYKHf_Mckyna_dSkKzvgEqaP2MNVmyehgzrrqyiY8z4SVMa32ZYsG6NXHxghFAwNBcEpFwRCgvRdHhbps0vgnzferHBwjWptft8ig13yqJj1utbFxzpoMOGdDOcfd8uPnvnb4ksgGhPI/s1600/409052_4710699132898_627811379_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhUYKHf_Mckyna_dSkKzvgEqaP2MNVmyehgzrrqyiY8z4SVMa32ZYsG6NXHxghFAwNBcEpFwRCgvRdHhbps0vgnzferHBwjWptft8ig13yqJj1utbFxzpoMOGdDOcfd8uPnvnb4ksgGhPI/s320/409052_4710699132898_627811379_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Lauren,
my baby A was a chunk. She was close to
5 pounds. Kate, my baby B, had IUGR
(intrauterine growth retardation) and she was 3 pounds. Everyone always thinks the chunky babies are
healthy, but Lauren was very, very sick.
She was in PPHN (persistent pulmonary hypertension) caused from her PDA
and ASD. I was forbidden to touch her or
talk to her for 10 days. It was the
hardest 10 days of my life. She never
opened her eyes until the evening of day 10.
She was moments away from being placed on ECMO and they kept telling me
they were doing all they could. She was
a 2:1. (Two to one). That means, 2 nurses to 1 baby. She had so many things hooked to her sweet
little body, she needed the care of 2 nurses and 1 respiratory therapist. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiCf0j3r25tv197jwo0pv2siidRBitIjKgJQ30fNa2kC376n6V1sP4zkBsNalkrz0ezWEJAOtbfJTCrgS9VTLJ33ELv3PLRnOO_Bd6iyvjIRKgFZltD_PdrDNtPMNbKl6wnY2HtedaAg/s1600/36568_4710699292902_1375135780_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjpiCf0j3r25tv197jwo0pv2siidRBitIjKgJQ30fNa2kC376n6V1sP4zkBsNalkrz0ezWEJAOtbfJTCrgS9VTLJ33ELv3PLRnOO_Bd6iyvjIRKgFZltD_PdrDNtPMNbKl6wnY2HtedaAg/s320/36568_4710699292902_1375135780_n.jpg" width="266" /></a></div>
<br />
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">She
was on the Oscillator (high frequency ventilator) for a long time. Lauren also came home on oxygen, a pulse ox
(pulse oximeter), and a cardiac monitor.
She needed oxygen for 3 months.
Thank God above I pushed to get her home, because I would not have
survived an additional 3 months in the hospital. I just wanted my girls at home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">In
the 2 months the girls were in the NICU, I only spent 7 hours at home away from
them. My husband insisted I sleep at
home, in our bed, so I would “feel better”. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"> It was awful being away from them, and I just worried
and could not sleep. From that moment
on, I stayed in the hospital with the girls.
I rarely saw the sun. And I did
try and take walks around the hospital and thru the courtyards to get fresh
air…but honestly, I just didn’t want to be outside when my girls were sick in
the hospital. I didn’t care at that time
if it was sunny and flowers blooming…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
wished I had made a journal entry about the girls shortly after they were
born. I think I was on too much overload
to think about a journal. I know I would
have included more details of our NICU time.
I did learn a few things about NICU, that as a nurse, I had never
experienced before. I experienced
emotions as a NICU mom, and everyone in our family seemed to not fully
understand what I was going thru. That
is how I found this Preemie group on the Bump, and later, I joined them on
Facebook.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I
would read peoples “siggys” on the Bump to have <i>HOPE</i>. When I would see other
Preemie moms had survived the NICU, and they had a preemie pic next to a
current pic of their baby at age 1, I had HOPE.
It got me thru some of the hardest days in the NICU. Having a support group of other NICU/Preemie
Moms is a very healing place to go and share about all things Preemie. I can say and share things that most full
term moms will never understand. I am so
grateful for the women in the FB group. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Here
is my gripe list ;) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">1. <!--[endif]--> My babies are preemie. They are in the NICU. They need peace and quiet. They should still be on the inside. Please don’t ask a NICU mom if you can come
and visit. Support her thru meals, gift
cards to places that offer a carry out menu, and send her text messages. Even a card.
But give her space and time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">2. <!--[endif]-->I hate hospitals. (and I am a nurse) <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">3. <!--[endif]-->My 1 year olds are not doing
the same thing your 1 year old is doing.
Don’t point it out. I know my
little ones are delayed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-left: .25in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpFirst" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">4. <!--[endif]-->If you are carrying a baby, be
grateful for every ache and pain you have.
My friends and I would give anything to have those aches and pains. We would go thru anything to keep our babies
cooking and not be in the NICU.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle" style="mso-list: l0 level1 lfo1; text-indent: -.25in;">
<!--[if !supportLists]--><span style="font-family: inherit;">5. <!--[endif]-->Wash your hands. Our preemies are more vulnerable to colds,
flu’s, and any type of illness. If you
even think your throat is scratchy, STAY HOME.
And a week after you thought your throat was scratchy…I’m still going to
ask you to put on a mask. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpMiddle">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoListParagraphCxSpLast">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If
you are on bed rest, I wish you as much cooking time as is possible. Remember, being on bed rest is truly a full
time job. You are growing a little
human, and that is an <i>amazing </i>job. Every day your LO (little one) can stay on
the inside~ is less NICU time. So do not
get discouraged. Online shop, shop,
shop. J <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">If
you are a preemie/Nicu mom, I wish you an uneventful stay in the NICU. And I hope you and your sweet baby are home
very, very soon. ::Hugs for you::<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-35625923871060979082012-10-11T12:29:00.000-07:002013-04-25T06:11:22.608-07:00Henry by Hayes<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lmqtAqYkoV_HK0aczZ2r92tbGnRbm77TEmtMyRsa0CXNoXG6JZLz_ZVAX2yaCrfJXl7b8GpAWy6FdrQzOIOCF8LI0O0a_Ws1TXC6BIhAES8fu8zkxQxCloJk0eaGw1LKS8PAklSi91M/s1600/29+wk+bump.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4lmqtAqYkoV_HK0aczZ2r92tbGnRbm77TEmtMyRsa0CXNoXG6JZLz_ZVAX2yaCrfJXl7b8GpAWy6FdrQzOIOCF8LI0O0a_Ws1TXC6BIhAES8fu8zkxQxCloJk0eaGw1LKS8PAklSi91M/s320/29+wk+bump.JPG" width="263" /></a></div>
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<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I wish I had written this sooner as I worry now that some of
the details are getting a little too fuzzy, but looking back a year later it
all still seems so surreal. I wasn’t strong enough till now to do this, so it
just had to wait.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A little background about me, ever since I found out as a
child that tiny preemies could be kept alive in safe plastic boxes, I was
fascinated. I went to the library and checked out every book I could find, I
poured over newspaper and People stories about every set of multiples featured
and longed for more details of these mysterious NICU stays. I decided I was
going to be a Neonatologist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">18 years later my dreams had almost come true. I was in my
last year of Pediatric Residency, married to the man of my dreams, and finally expecting
my own baby. My experiences had led me away from planning for a career in
Neonatology (I had found my calling as a General Pediatrician instead), but I
had loved every minute in the NICU in residency. I loved saving the day by
helping a baby take those first precious breaths. I found meaning in those
early am hours writing pages of medication and transfusion orders diligently
trying to save a tiny patient. But nothing was better than months later when I
found out they had gone home. I also witnessed loss first hand. Gut wrenching,
heart breaking, sob inducing, loss. Way more loss than I knew I could handle on
a daily basis. Neonatology was amazing, but not the career for me.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMPbdzUGVX7mtXmAUApdhny_q3qjhiMg_c3yjfBPiFUIlMLAkUG9s3UCPfTnag-P3zX5ws0Of4vHHt-aagwX1MWocqR4AT-dyYJ__hKU9I_EnubS96uW5WvGI1RtHJFQdIb25UM_u8x8/s1600/1st+bath.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjWMPbdzUGVX7mtXmAUApdhny_q3qjhiMg_c3yjfBPiFUIlMLAkUG9s3UCPfTnag-P3zX5ws0Of4vHHt-aagwX1MWocqR4AT-dyYJ__hKU9I_EnubS96uW5WvGI1RtHJFQdIb25UM_u8x8/s320/1st+bath.jpg" width="238" /></a></div>
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">These experiences armed me with information but also fear of
the unknown as I faced my own pregnancy knowing all too well the things that
could go wrong. I put on a brave face and told my colleagues, friends, and
family that I was staying positive and focusing on how well it was all going,
but having faced an early loss with my first pregnancy I was not in denial
about the possibility of complications. <br />
<!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--><br />
<!--[endif]--><o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Weeks 16-19 were blissful. Morning sickness had finally
abated, my belly was growing, and my face was beaming. Residency was drawing to
a close and I felt on top of the world. I began noticing tightening of my belly
periodically which I attributed to early movements. Over the next few days
these sensations got more rhythmic, and I started to worry. I spoke with the OB
triage nurse and she sent me in for lab work. It looked like I had a UTI. A
week of antibiotics later and the contractions had not abated, so I went in
again. My midwife told me that she thought my cervix was shortened so they sent
me over to L&D, I was about 22 weeks along. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I called my husband on the walk over. I calmly explained in
greater detail what I had hinted about in our discussions over the last few
weeks. Our baby was pre-viable, if I went into labor now, there was little that
could be done. Forever my rock, he assured me that things would be fine but
that he would leave work in case. It was the longest elevator ride of my life.
My thoughts raced thinking about the little wiggly being inside of me and the
what-ifs. My heart was heavy thinking of all the internet friends whose stories
started like this and ended in loss and heartbreak. I was one of the lucky
ones. The exam had been wrong. My cervix was long and closed. They told me that
this was my “new normal.” They said that if things changed with my contractions
I would know and should come in.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next few weeks were full of excitement. My belly seemed
to grow by the day, my pregnancy passed that precious viability milestone, and
I started a new job. I was again on top of the world. Then one afternoon the
contractions picked up. I started timing them and was having them every 3-8
minutes and at least 6-7 times in an hour. I called my husband at work. He left
immediately and we drove in to L&D in the city. They checked me and
confirmed the regularity of my contractions. This time I was 1cm dilated. They
admitted me even though I wasn’t changing my cervix to be careful. I received steroids to help with lung
maturity. They ordered the standard NICU consult. When two of my favorite
neonatologists walked in I almost lost it. It was so surreal. They were sweet and
supportive and told me to get back home ASAP. They went through things in
detail for my husband, I wanted to make sure he heard the full talk. They tried
many different meds but nothing consistently worked. I continued to contract but
stayed a 1cm. Because my tracings also looked good they felt reassured and sent
me home after 2 days. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I stayed on bedrest for about a week, only leaving the house
one time a day for less than an hour each time. Friends covered shifts at work
sending worried email encouraging me to do everything possible to keep my baby
inside. I busied myself ordering things online for the nursery and using my
precious daily excursion to buy things for the “Preterm Labor” bag I was
getting packed, just in case. My contractions continued unchanged. At my follow
up appointment we discussed the risks and benefits of bedrest and decided that
going back to work while limiting standing and drinking lots of water was the
plan that made the most sense. I went back to work and felt great to be moving
again. My contractions remained unchanged and I was relieved. I was so
exhausted from the sleepless nights and days of worrying that working again was
a welcomed distraction. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">On September 9<sup>th</sup> I slept in late. I slowly got
ready for my afternoon shift, pausing to take a bump picture to post to my
board on The Bump as I had many weeks before. Work was a little busy, but I
managed to finish early. At home I changed into comfy clothes, ate dinner on
the couch with my husband and turned on some mindless TV. Soon after dinner I
had 3 contractions in a row that seemed different. I was breathing though each
one and they were concentrated lower than any of my contractions before. I told my husband to start timing them. After
an hour of contracting every five minutes I got up to go to the bathroom and
get myself ready to possibly go in. I was bleeding… a lot. I screamed for James
to grab the bag and camera and threw on clothes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The drive in felt like it took hours. I was cursing every
red light and praying for my little guy to move and let me know he was ok. We
rushed in to triage and they seemed a lot less concerned this time. They
confirmed my contraction pattern and did an ultrasound. My cervix was long and
my little man was moving like crazy. They said they were going to send me home.
Just before I started to get ready to put my clothes back on the resident
returned and said, “I want to do a pelvic exam just to confirm, is that ok.” She
lingered a while and finally looked at me and said, “You’re 3 cm dilated. I
think we’re going to keep you.” After a long discussion that I could last many
weeks at 3 cm they transferred me to an antepartum room. They started
magnesium, which they never had with my first admission since I was never in
labor. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The contractions got steadily stronger and closer together.
They checked me again and I was still 3cm but more effaced. This confirmed
labor, but the team was still hopeful. The NICU attending came and talked with
us, reassuring us that 29 weeks was much better than 27 weeks but still
prepared us for a rocky start and lifetime risks of cerebral palsy, learning disabilities,
and other problems. My husband stayed by my side squeezing my wrist to try to
distract me from my contractions. I wanted to walk, scream, move, anything to
make the contractions bearable but I was chained to my bed by the monitors and
web of IV tubing. They flooded me with fluids and I dreaded to get up to go to
the bathroom because every time there was more blood. I passed huge clots and
panicked, my nurses tried to be reassuring. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Around 2am my husband hit his breaking point. He could no
longer keep pressure on my wrist to distract me because his fingers were numb.
He knew that my contractions were more frequent and lasting longer and he was
worried. “They’re not doing anything. How long do they expect us to go on like
this. I can’t take it.” We spoke to my nurse and she sent the team in. “You’re
6 cm dilated now” they told us, “there’s nothing we can do. Your baby is going
to be born today.” I decided to get some pain meds and eventually an epidural
so we could rest. They transferred me from antepartum to LDR. Reality hit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">We cried. We called our parents and asked for prayers. My
dad and his wife promised to be on a plane within the next 24 hours. We slept.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">I woke up with increasing pressure around 12:30pm. They
checked me and I was 8cm. I cried some more. As I calmed I realized there was
no changing the moment, no going back to the bliss of thinking this could all
be stopped, that this wouldn’t be our story. I became resolved. I told my
husband that we needed to cheer up and focus on our baby, this was his birthday
after all. We talked to him, telling that he had to come out and be a NICU
rockstar not a wimpy white boy (white males in the NICU have the worst
outcomes). We told him how excited we were to meet him even though it was
earlier than we had planned. <br />
<br />
I stayed at 9-9.5cm for several hours. My water hadn’t broken and that was
slowing my labor. I had lots of pressure and was freaked out that the delivery
might happen quickly without the right people assembled. I had been to
emergencies in the LDR rooms before and knew that they never went as well as
when sick babies were greeted by a fully assembled NICU team in the safety of
the resuscitation room that adjoined the ORs. My doctors agreed to move me into
the OR and break my water there. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">As they wheeled me down the hall, I yelled, “let’s go have a
birthday party” and joked with the nurses about my “birth plan.” “I want
immediate skin to skin, no bath for 24 hours, and exclusive rooming in. This
ugly surgical cap was NOT part of the plan!” I knew if I wasn’t laughing I
would be crying. As we settled into the OR, my thoughts raced to crash
c-section I knew they were preparing for. I eyed the surgical tech in the
corner of the room and willed her to stay put. They broke my water and his
heartrate stayed up! <br />
<br />
The pediatric team came in to say hi. The senior resident, who had been the
year behind me in residency and the fellow, who had been my classmate, looked
worried. “It’s ok guys!” I reassured them, “This little guy is going to be a
rockstar!” The OBs told them to go and they would call them when delivery was
more imminent, “We’re not going anywhere!” The senior resident said. I was
immensely grateful. I knew how the minutes could drag by standing around
waiting for a delivery while your mind raced to all the orders and notes
waiting for you in the NICU, but their presence was reassuring. I trusted them.
<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
<br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The shrill ring of monitor alarms brought the OBs to their
feet. My little guy’s heartrate had dropped as he was pushed further down the
birth canal by my contractions. “Time to
push!” the high risk OB told me. As I pushed, the alarms sounded again, I backed
off. “Harder” they yelled, and the contraction passed. This repeated 3 more
times. Then they asked, “is there some reason you’re not pushing very
hard? He’s very little, you should be able to get him out easily. He needs to
come out now.” “But his heartrate keeps dropping” my voice quivered, “I feel
like I’m going to kill him.” A look of recognition spread across their faces,
they were treating a fellow healthcare professional who knew all too well what
those alarms meant. “We’ll turn the sound off. We won’t let you kill him. Push
with all your might and we’ll tell you when to back off.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">A few pushes later I felt his tiny body slip from mine. I
looked down and my son, Henry Oliver, stared right back at me and then let out
a scream. “Oh my God,” I cried, “He’s beautiful.” He let out one more tiny cry
and was passed off through a window to the waiting NICU team. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">The next few hours were some of the longest of my life. The
NICU team worked to stabilize Henry. He
needed to be intubated and his blood pressures were low. James went to see him
and came back with pictures. I was jealous. I went down to the NICU as soon as
I was physically able, but the team was putting in umbilical lines so Henry was
draped. I sat in my wheelchair for a while watching the numbers on his monitor
go up and down, listenting to the familiar whoosh of the ventilator breaths,
willing something, someone to tell me he was going to be alright. Heartbroken,
I asked to be taken back to my room. I got there and broke down sobbing. He
didn’t feel like mine, my baby. It felt like I was watching over another tiny
patient. <br />
<br />
Pumping became my solace, the one thing I could do, but even that was mostly
discouraging. The next morning brought good news. Henry was doing better and
would be extubated. Hours after being extubated his nurse lifted his tiny
fragile body out of the protection of his isolette and placed him on my bare
chest. As he wiggled into a position of comfort, I cradled his tiny bottom in
my hand. Our heartrates both slowed and I knew it, he was mine. These were the
tiny feet that kicked my ribs and this tiny bum was unmistakably the one that had
been dancing inside me for months. I was his mom.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">Update: After 38 days in the NICU, Henry came home. He has
grown and thrived since and our lives couldn’t be better. Tomorrow we will
celebrate his 1<sup>st</sup> birthday.</span><o:p></o:p><br />
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com52tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-34754860478642152702012-09-26T16:25:00.001-07:002012-09-27T18:50:10.767-07:00RSV and Synagis FAQ<style>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Every year, as we
head into the fall, parents being gearing up for the upcoming cold and flu
season.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Parents of preemies and
other babies with chronic diseases have another virus they need to be concerned
about: RSV.</span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Respiratory Syncytial
Virus (RSV) is an infection that can cause bronchiolitis and pneumonia in very
young infants, particularly those under the age of 1.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Preemies, babies under the age of 2 who have congenital
heart disease or chronic lung disease, and children with compromised immune
systems are at the highest risk for severe illness.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As a result, it’s important to protect
your preemie as much as possible so they do not become infected with RSV. </span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">RSV is transmitted
through similar ways as a cold.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>When someone coughs or sneezes, airborne droplets can infect someone who
inhales them or comes in direct contact with them another way, via the eyes,
nose, or mouth.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You can also
become infected with the virus through indirect contact with a contaminated
surface, such as a doorknob, and then touching your eyes, nose, or mouth with
your hand.</span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Preventative measures
are similar to measures used to avoid infection from colds and influenza.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Good hand hygiene should be practiced:
wash thoroughly for a minimum of 15-20 seconds with soap and water, or use
alcohol-based hand sanitizers before handling your preemie, especially after
blowing your nose or coughing into your hands.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Avoid those who are sick, and ask people who are ill to
avoid visits until they are no longer contagious.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If you need to take your preemie out in public, baby
wearing, either in a carrier or wrap, can help deter the general public from
trying to touch your child, or you can purchase a small stop sign to hang on
the handle of your infant seat (or attach to your stroller) that says “Please
wash your hands before touching mine.”<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>You can purchase a sign at <a href="http://www.mytinyhands.com/shopping/store.htm.">My Tiny Hands</a> or<a href="http://www.itsapreemiething.com/"> Its a Preemie Thing</a> </span></div>
<div class="Body">
<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Some preemies will
qualify for an antibody shot (Synagis) to help protect them from RSV infection.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Synagis works like the flu shot in that
it will help lessen the severity of symptoms if RSV infection occurs, but it will
not completely prevent infection from happening.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Synagis is given monthly throughout the duration of RSV
season for your area.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"> </span></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">The CDC website is a
fabulous source of information on RSV.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The following are links to specific pages that may be helpful to you as
you journey through the season:</span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/rsv/about/faq.html"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">General FAQ<span style="color: #000099;"></span></span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.cdc.gov/rsv/clinical/prophylaxis.html">High-Risk Groups(Guidelines for Synagis Qualification)</a><a href="http://www.cdc.gov/rsv/clinical/prophylaxis.html"><span style="color: #000099;"></span></a></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><a href="http://www.cdc.gov/rsv/about/symptoms.html">Symptoms & Care</a><a href="http://www.cdc.gov/rsv/about/symptoms.html"><span style="color: #000099;"></span></a></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/rsv/about/symptoms.html"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">Transmission &Prevention</span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
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<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/rsv/research/us-surveillance.html"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">US RSV Surveillance(National, Regional, and State Trends; Surveillance Reports)</span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/Features/dsRSV/"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";">General SeasonDuration by Region</span></a></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="Body">
<a href="http://preemiemomblog.blogspot.com/2012/01/protecting-your-preemie-when-out-in_21.html">Protecting Your Baby When Out in Public</a><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman";"><br /></span></div>
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<br /></div>
Corahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01423039239674861175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-977461072073282342012-09-19T11:36:00.001-07:002013-01-08T19:05:03.598-08:00Being an Advocate for Your Children While in NICU by Melissa<br />
I cannot stress enough the importance of being your child's advocate.<br />
<br />
It takes strength and courage to stand up and do what's right not only for yourself but for your child. They look to you as their parent to make choices for them when they can't. I can promise you that this will not be easy. I can't promise that your choices won't be questioned, challenged or judged; because sadly someone somewhere will do this.<br />
<br />
Several times during both my pregnancy and the twins NICU stay, I had to make tough choices. Choices I wouldn't have been able to make on my own without the support of my husband because they effected us both. I will forever be thankful that he and I are on the same page on many things.<br />
<br />
From that ultrasound on that cold January day where doctors confirmed our fear. My water had broken and both babies were in jepordy. This was the ultrasound that also revealed that Addison "elegedly" had an ASD (whole in her heart) and Micrognathia (recesed chin to put it simply). The same ultrasound that brought one of the High Risk Specialists to the conclusion that we should terminate Addison, deliver her and attempt to put in a cerclage to save Blake. First Jake declined before I could even speak and stood firm that we would fight as long as Addison's heart kept beating and in no way would we chose to terminate her. That doctor had no problem telling us how much she disagreed and though it was foolish to put myself and Blake at risk. Second, I thought my OB was going to go off the deep end on the specialist and told us there was no way he would do what she was suggesting because that in itself was risking to me and Blake, and was even greater risk to loose Blake. He did warn us though that we could still loose Addiosn "naturually" and may have a stillborn baby. Our hearts broke. All we could do at this point was start antibiotics and then I would be sent home because we hadn't even reached viablity.<br />
<br />
Fast forward to 24 weeks, I was admitted to the hospital one more time for steriod shots for their lungs in hopes that IF they should come early they would be better off from a respitory standpoint. I had several doctors, friends and family telling me that now I needed to stay until I delivered. But I couldn't there was just no way, I couldn't handle it. I had 5 weeks to wrap my head around it and prepare myself but I knew in my heart that the stress of being "alone" in the hospital would cause me to go into labor. Jake understood my fears and we listened to each doctor give their reasons. While none of them could give me "the ok" to go home, one of them was brutally honest and told me that I was also right in thinking I was more at risk for infection by staying in the hospital and that going home could give us the best chance at survival. But legally he had to tell me to stay. We dissappointed a lot of people when we made the call to come home. Do I regret it... not really. Would I do it the same way all over again? I can't honestly say. But I do believe that staying home is what helped me get to 26 weeks. Had they kept me at 20 weeks, I do believe I wouldn't have made it that far.<br />
<br />
In the NICU, most choices were not up to us. It was all about survival. Our first choice was "How far to go." Our answer was simple, do all you medically can and leave the rest to God. After that things were out of our hands again until it was time to think of alternate options for Addison who struggled to come off the vent. Our first MAJOR choice was did we want to give our daughter steriods to help get her over the hump. This came with the possiblity of increasing her risk for CP and developmental delays, the alternative was a Trach, increased lung damage and death. We opted for steriods.<br />
<br />
After that, we were faced with the G-tube and Nissin surgery. Yes, No, Maybe, Give it more time? I armed myself with knowledge of it all and asked a million questions. Peds Surgery wanted to do one more test "just to be sure" because ofcourse the fact that formula oozing out her nose and mouth constantly wasn't enough, that was one test we refused. Why? Because it posed a huge risk for aspiration which could damage her already fragile lungs or worse. Surgery went well but recovery didn't.<br />
<br />
Again Addison was struggling to be extubated. Her NEO at the time did not want to hear what I had to say about it and told me that her "45 years of medical expeirence as a doctor would not let me make decisions like that." I pushed back and so did she. This NEO was hell bent on Trach-ing her no matter how we, her parents, felt about the matter. (Keep in mind this NEO had only known Addison for 2 weeks and was not one of her "regular" NEO's. IMO, those 2 weeks didn't over rule the 4 months I had been her mother and watched all she went through.) I made phone calls, had the other NEO's consult, and made myself clear that this was not a button she wanted to push or a decison she wanted to make without our permission. If it meant I had to pay out of pocket for a transfer to another hospital I would do it. In the midst of this Addison had a MRSA flare up and this infection was raging through her body. I knew in my gut that if they cut another hole, in her airway at that, we'd loose her. And we felt like she had been through enough and if this was really the end she would give up. We were making peace with that, but we wouldn't torture her anymore, she suffered enough and had been in enough pain. Also worth noting that Addison was in a room with a handful of other babies, that all had Trachs...something didn't sit right about this. (Disclaimer..... this is just our situation and our story, I am not saying other's should make the same choice. This was the best choice for us.) At the same time they also wanted to surgically place an ART line (similar to a PICC line) to finish out a few short doses of antibotics, because she kept loosing veins. Nope, not happening, find another alternative it was too risky for us at this point.<br />
<br />
Fortunatly the other NEO's were able to give a better history for Addison and educate this NEO. A few days later she informed me that she "just didn't know all that had to be done to extubate her before". I couldn't be kind at that point and I told her point blank, "There is a reason Addison was transferred with a chart and you at the very least could have read the cliff notes. Not to mention I told you this, not once but twice. I am sorry but I don't take well to being told what to do or that you will just do it anyway. That doesn't work for me and I honestly hope the next time you have an expeirence with a sitaution like this, you handle it a little better and professionally." Yes I was THAT MOM. And guess what, a week later Addison was off all oxygen, she went from the ventilator to a low flow cannula in less then an hour and she was being discharged a week and a half after that. The NEO was baffled. NEVER UNDER ESTIMATE THE POWER OF A PREEMIE. Just sayin'.<br />
<br />
The day of discharge she wouldn't even enter the room to have me sign the paperwork. She had one of the residents to it and she must have thought she escaped me, but we met in the hallway on the way out. And had the nerve to tell me "Well mom WE made it." I kept quiet and kept walking with my baby in her stroller, on our way to freedom. I later found out this doctor was notorious for making parents cry and walking all over them. It's sad it really is. And I can't imagine where we'd be today if we had given in and just let her do what she wanted. I know that things could have ended totally differently even with the choices we made, but the fact of the matter is that things are the way they are for a reason.<br />
<br />
I don't regret advocating for either of my children and we have always done what we thought was best for our children and our family.<br />
<br />
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Read more about Melissa and her twins at <a href="http://ourvalentinesdaysurprise.blogspot.com/">http://ourvalentinesdaysurprise.blogspot.com/</a>.Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-20977788208037027042012-09-14T11:36:00.002-07:002012-09-18T09:26:33.417-07:00Random Acts of Understanding: a story about feeding by Melissa<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">At lunch yesterday I met a grandmother and a beautiful baby girl. As most women typically do I got the "Are they twins? How old?" and tells me her baby was 14 months old. We watched the grandmother sign "more" and play games with her etc. Until she told me she was the grandmother I would have swore she was her mom.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">After a few minutes came "Who was bigger? How much did they weigh?" and that's when the Preemie-ness appeared. She told me "What miracles I had." And then as she was feeding the baby girl a bottle she paused and explained, the little girl has severe <span class="yshortcuts cs4-visible" id="lw_1347635877_0" style="border-bottom-color: rgb(54, 99, 136); border-bottom-style: dotted; border-bottom-width: 2px; cursor: pointer;">food allergies</span>. Has to have special formula ($75 a CAN) and special made purees. And as a result they were struggling to get her to drop the bottle. But that was the only way she would drink her special formula, so they had no choice.</span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">You could absolutely see the relief on her face when I told her about Addison.... Like "Finally someone else gets it." As it turns out the baby girl was too a preemie, by about a month. Funny how that almost instantly bonds us preemie families. She told me that her granddaughter had some mild delays too and sung the praises if our county's Early Intervention Program. </span></div>
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Take a minute to think about this, especially if your are a parent as well. Have you ever had to think twice about what you were feeding you little one. Did every meal take careful planning because they might choke or have an allergic reaction? Have you ever had to be cautious yourself because of an allergy or something else? For most people it's mindless and second nature, for those of us effected it's not. I think sometimes people assume because Addison is eating, she can have whatever. That's not entirely true. Too much milk/juice etc, at once will make her gag or choke and she tolerates so much less then Blake does. Food that is too thick, thin, hard, soft, chewy, the list goes on, can cause the same thing. and guess what, the minute she gags or chokes you can almost bet she is done and won't try again. Would you? You would be scared too. </span></div>
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<span class="yiv1012302944Apple-style-span" id="yui_3_2_0_26_1347565821399582" style="font-family: Times, 'Times New Roman', serif;">Seeing this baby made me thankful that Addison doesn't have any major food allergies (other then cake icing) that we know of (knock on wood). Because that would complicate things so much more in this process. It gave me a dose of perspective and made me realize once again, that we are not alone. It also made me thankful for this miracle that the other baby girl was too. Looking at her she looked like the perfect picture of health. Like Addison she wasn't letting this "hiccup" hold her down. Babies amaze me. Their fight and will to overcome. God bless them and the families that love and support/encourage them. It takes some extra special people to be blessed with such challenges. </span></div>
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</span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-51402765559071987492012-09-14T11:29:00.001-07:002012-09-14T11:29:28.512-07:00Renee + Nora <div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Nora's story started back in May of 2010. We knew that it would take some time to get pregnant since I have PCOS, so Todd and I tried to get pregnant for almost a year and a half using fertility pills. After an entire year we decided to take a break over the summer, and low and behold on September 9th 2011 we found out that we were pregnant! My due date was May 14th 2012. I was extremely sick for the first 17weeks and after that I felt great and was able to finally start enjoying my pregnancy, that was until week 25. </span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">On February 1st, I woke up for a routine doctor visit that was scheduled for 10:30am for my glucose test. Nora was 25weeks 2days gestation. As I was getting ready that morning I started noticing some slight cramping, I didn't think much of it and kept getting ready. As I got in the car the cramps were getting a bit worse but I thought maybe they were braxton hicks. I called Todd told him what I was feeling, told him I would run it by the OB but I was sure everything was fine and she would tell me it was all normal. In the Dr appointment I told her, "ya know the only reason I am saying anything is because they are happening like every 15-20min." So she checked me and said, that my cervix was softening but was not dilated. So she sent me home, told me to take it easy, drink lots of water, put my feet up and call her if I have more than 6-8 "cramps" in an hour. Well I went home, and in the first hour I had 8... I totally tried to downplay them. I was in such denial and terrified all at the same time. I thought if I ignored them, surely they would go away. I was on the phone for most of that hour with Todd, I told him I had had 8, but 2 I could barely feel so we wouldn't count those <--- idiot! Thank God Todd knew better, he left work, told me to call the hospital and tell them we would be coming into triage. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">By the time we had arrived in triage and I was checked it was 2:30pm and I was already 2cm dilated!! WHAT??? I am pretty sure I went into panic mode at that point. The Dr told me I had a slight UTI, he would put me on antibiotics for that, jack me up on Magnesium sulfate (worst crap ever!) and send me to the special care unit. They did an ultra sound to make sure she was head down, which she was, and to check her weight. They predicted her at being 1lb 14oz. I could not even fathom what 1lb 14oz's looked like...I mean seriously...a 1lb baby?? This is where my memory gets fuzzy and I have to rely on what my husband tells me happened. At 6pm I got my first steroid shot for Nora's lungs followed by my first dose of Mag. When they gave me the mag it made me sooo sick and it caused me to basically black out. The mag is a huge muscle relaxer, so I couldn't move my arms, my legs, I couldn't even barely lift my head. Poor Todd, every time I had to puke he had to run over and completely sit me up. The nurses told Todd that they had never seen someone react to mag as badly as I did. They planned on giving me the first steroid shot at 6pm that night and then the second at 6pm the next night, then they realized they didn't have that kind of time, so it turned into 6pm and 6am, then they realized they didn't even think they had that time, so i got the first one at 6pm and the second one at 3am... I am no doctor but I know that it was ultimately God, but also those shots that saved Nora's life. I know I complain about the mag and how much it sucked, but it kept Nora in long enough to get the shots, and let them be in my system for a while to actually start to work. I know they tried all through that night to stop my contractions but to no avail. At 3:30am I was wheeled into labor and delivery and they started making preparations for delivery, even ordering my epidural (which I never received that night). At around 6:40am Todd sent out a desperate plea for prayers on Facebook, and by 8:30am my contractions had finally stopped, and I was 3-4cm dilated! They told me then that I would be on hospital bedrest until Nora was delivered and that they would do everything they could to stop it, but she would most likely be here within 7days. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Over the next few days, we had consults with a MFM (maternal fetal medicine), and with one of the Doctors from the NICU. They were trying to prepare us for what to expect with the birth of a 25weeker. Let me tell you, those are the scariest conversations I have ever had, and thankfully I don't remember most of them because of the mag. Apparently I straight fell asleep in the middle of one conversation I had with my MFM. The nurses thought it was hilarious that the doctor put in my chart "patient fell asleep, continued conversation with her husband." haha like I said...the mag and I did not get along! But I do remember praying to God saying, I will lay in this bed for the next 15 weeks...just please don't let her come early,please!! God had other plans though... </span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Two days later on February 4th, they decided that I was finally stable enough to wheel back out of labor and delivery and back to the special care unit. They wheeled me out at noon, and at 12:10pm my contractions started again. This time they were not able to stop them. I labored, panicked, terrified, and sick to my stomach for hours. They jacked me back up on more mag then I was on the previous few days and told me to try my best to relax...right. Todd's family was there, but all I wanted was my Mom and/or sisters, who were all at my other sister's baby shower. The nurses kept asking me if the contractions were strong and I kept telling them no, I thought if I told them how bad they really hurt that they would give up on trying to stop my labor. Because Nora was so small they couldn't even track most of my contractions on the monitor. How they knew I was having a contraction (with out me telling them) was because Nora's heart rate would dip with every contraction. Todd could see it all over my face every time I had a contraction, but I don't think he quite understand my insane logic of thinking at the time. He kept saying, Renee I know their getting stronger, you can no longer talk through them. I just really remember thinking, if I can keep lying about how strong these contractions are, they will keep trying to stop my labor. Finally around 5pm my Mom got there, and around 6:30 my water broke and they finally told me they were not going to be able to stop it this time, I was dilating way to fast. I absolutely broke down... I lost it. I was terrified for Nora, terrified that she would not make it. They started preparing me, telling me that she would not cry when she was born, she would not be placed on my chest, that I would not see her when she was born, and they would be rushing her to the NICU right after birth. I was supposed to have a joyful birth, full of fun, excitement, and anticipation. Not one of fear, terror, and horror-stricken panic. Around 7pm they finally turned the mag off, in hopes that I would be able to start to feel my legs and arms, and be able to lift my head for delivery. As soon as they turned the mag off, my labor progressed rapidly. By 8pm I was 6-7cm dilated and had just gotten my epidural in a last ditch effort to stop them. By 9:50 I was 8cm and by 9:55 I was 10 and ready to go! I have never in my life been more scared than I was in that moment. I remember just crying in shear desperation, just begging and pleading that she stay in, I kept repeating over and over again...its too soon...she's to small! </span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><br /><br /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">By 10pm my entire labor and delivery room was full of 10 NICU staff (nurses, Nurse practitioners, neonatologist, and respiratory) and then 5 more labor and delivery nurses and a doctor. You could barely move in that room there were so many people. With me was Todd and my Mom. I needed my Mom in there so that Todd could leave if he was able to be with Nora and she could stay and comfort me. After just 2 short pushes, Nora Katherine was born at 10:38pm weighing only 1lb 14oz and 13in long. When the doctor held her up for a split second for me to see, I lost it again. She was tiny and pink but did not cry at all. I knew she was going to be small, I knew she was going to be beyond small, but you can never begin to prepare yourself for that. I had no idea how something so small could ever survive. She took my breath away and I began to pray like I have never prayed in my life. I must say though, she was tiny, but she was perfect. Todd stood by my side, listening to everyone working on his precious daughter. They intubated her right away in my room and tried to get her as stable as possible. All I remember Todd saying over and over was, "they said she took a breath...they said she is breathing, babe she is breathing...shes breathing" I knew it was all machine/vent breathing but I just kept thanking God that she was alive. They worked on her for about 20min before they put her in her isolate, wheeled her next to me so I could get one good look at her, and then they rushed her to the NICU.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">Todd was able to see her an hour later, and I was able to finally see her at 1am after my epidural had worn off. She was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. She gripped right onto my finger, opened her eyes and looked right at me. That paired with the first time I got to hold her were some of the best moments of my life. </span><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">We didn't know until months later how critical her first 12hours of life were. The neonatologist told us there were several times they did not think she would make it, and every time I think about that I cry. Nora was born with an infection called Chorio, also within the first few hours of life she had a blood transfusion (within 6hrs of being born) and developed a bilateral grade 4 brain bleed (the most severe brain bleed you can have, that we would find out about 10days later).</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><br style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;" /><span style="background-color: white; line-height: 24px;">They are still not positive on why I went into labor so very early, it could be a number of things, or just 1 individual thing, but unfortunately there is no way for us to know. I have a bicornuate uterus which can sometimes cause pre-term labor, but I came into the hospital with a UTI and Nora was ultimately born because of a sever infection in my uterus. There is no way to know if the UTI started everything, which then would have caused me to go into labor, and then being dilated caused the infection, or if the infection came first, if the bicornuate uterus caused the pre term labor etc... We were told that when a women goes into labor early, if caught very early, a lot of times the doctors can stop it, but when there is an infection the drugs will not work, and the baby knows its uninhabitable and it has to get out. Which is exactly what Nora did, and I thank God everyday that she did, less she could never have survived in there with the infection.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">What she has been able to overcome is nothing short of a miracle. Everything that happened on those horrific scary days is nothing short of a miracle. The fact that I had a Dr appointment on the day my contractions started, (I would never have gone in because i didn't think they were contractions), is a miracle. The fact that they were able to stop my labor if even for a few days, so that the steroids could take effect is a miracle. The fact that Nora was born alive, even though her blood count was severely low, she was not breathing, she was magged out, and had a potentially fatal infection.... an absolute miracle. The fact that Nora had a bilateral grade 4 brain bleed... that could not be identified just a few short weeks later... miracle. The fact that she would later overcome 2 more potentially fatal infections...miracle. The fact that Nora is a happy, healthy 7month old right now.... MIRACLE!!! I would never have imagined the very worst, most terrifying day of my life, would also turn out to be one of the best... I can't imagine having a worse start to your life, but she is a fighter and she is our little miracle. We thank God everyday for her. Todd and I are forever grateful of all the miracles God has performed in our lives and especially with our sweet baby girl. My life changed the moment I had her, in ways I never ever imagined. I walked into that hospital on Feb 1st one person, and back out May 10th a completely different person. Nora has taught us more in the first 5months of her life so far, then she will ever know. I could not be more proud and in love with my little miracle.</span></div>
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Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-79410815403345240582012-09-08T19:24:00.000-07:002012-09-08T19:24:50.228-07:00What is Hydrocephalus? A Personal Account by Joanna<br />
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September is Hydrocephalus
awareness month. It is estimated that 1
to 2 of every 1000 babies are born with Hydrocephalus. This statistic makes it as common as Down Syndrome, yet it is a condition that is largely overlooked in terms of federal
funding for research. Shockingly, we
have seen little to no improvements in the treatment and diagnosis of
Hydrocephalus in the last 50 years. This
is a problem, especially when many cases of Normal Pressure Hydrocephalus
occurring in older adults are misdiagnosed as dementia. <o:p></o:p></div>
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In short, Hydrocephalus is the
build-up of cerebrospinal fluid in the ventricles of the brain. It can be congenital or acquired. This build up of fluid causes extreme
pressure on the brain, resulting in damage.
There is no cure for this condition, and the treatment, in the form of a
shunt, is far from perfect. 50% of
shunts will fail within the first year.
Babies who are born with or who acquire Hydrocephalus have a high risk
of developing Cerebral Palsy, since they are in the fragile stages of brain
development. Adults who acquire this
condition often need months of therapy just to get back to doing normal, everyday
tasks.<o:p></o:p></div>
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This is our story. Aiden & Ryan were born at 25 weeks
gestation. They both developed Grade 1
& 2 IVH’s or brain bleeds in their first week of life. When the bleeds weren’t resolving, the
doctors briefly mentioned Hydrocephalus.
Eventually, both boys had developed Grade 3 & 4 (the most severe)
bleeds on both sides of their brain. At
this point their head circumference was being measured daily. Any big jump in size would be an indicator of
Hydrocephalus.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Ryan was diagnosed first. One of his nurses noticed a 1cm jump in head
circumference overnight. As a matter of
fact, you could see with your own two eyes that his head was disproportionately
large for his body. After a few
consultations with the Neurosurgeon and a head ultrasound, he was officially
diagnosed. The best form of treatment is
a shunt, but he was still too small for one.
He was exactly one month old when they placed a tapping reservoir into
his brain. This allowed for the doctors
to drain the fluid every other day, without risking infection each time. Ryan got tapped every other day for the next
month or so, until he grew big enough for his shunt. It’s amazing how much the pressure on his
brain affected him on the days that he wasn’t tapped. He required more oxygen and had more episodes
of apnea when the fluid built up. By the
time he was ready for his shunt, we were anxious to get it done. We just wanted him to get better. As we expected, a few days after surgery,
Ryan no longer required oxygen. He was
on the fast track home. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Around the same time, Aiden was
also being monitored for Hydrocephalus.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">
</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">We thought he wouldn’t be diagnosed, but he eventually was.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">For some reason this put my mind at ease for
Ryan.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">This may be a little warped, but my
thinking was that at least they would go through this together.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">I guess it’s a weird way to look at it.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Aiden got his shunt a couple weeks after
Ryan.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">He didn’t respond as quickly in
terms of oxygen needs, but his lungs were much sicker.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">His Hydrocephalus also isn’t as severe as
Ryan’s, so he might not have been as affected by it.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;">Though we did notice a drop in his resting
heart rate after the shunt was placed.</span><span style="text-indent: 0.5in;"> </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
We spent the next few weeks trying
to get our boys out of the NICU. They
had a lot of struggles with learning how to eat using a bottle. A lot of the doctors and nurses thought it
was because of their condition. As a
result, they wanted to send the boys to feeding rehab for however long it took
them to learn how to eat. One doctor
even suggested putting Aiden on a g-tube, because with his cleft and the
Hydrocephalus, she never thought he would learn how to use a bottle. By the time the boys were accepted into the
rehab facility, they were getting the hang of bottle feeding. And they truly surprised everyone. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Upon discharge from the NICU, Aiden
& Ryan had an MRI scan of their brain.
We had an appointment with their neurosurgeon to discuss the findings. In short, we were told to expect some form of
CP, and that Ryan would need more intervention than Aiden, because the volume
loss (or damage) of his brain was much more significant. In truth, though, no one can tell us what the
future holds for our boys. They
currently receive services through Early Intervention, and our hope is that one
day they will be able to live independently.
I recently read a statistic that said 60% of children with Hydrocephalus
will NOT go on to live independently.
The odds are stacked against us. But
so were the odds of their survival. And
they beat that. So who knows what will
happen.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
Although the boys are struggling with
some significant delays at this point, our lives are pretty normal. Our main concern is getting the services they
need in order to hit their milestones. We
also have to keep an eye out for shunt malfunction. The signs of malfunction are vomiting, irritability,
sunset eyes (baby looks down all the time), abnormal head growth, lethargy, or
decrease in appetite. So you can imagine
that even a simple stomach bug can be confusing to us, especially with a child
that can’t speak yet. Other than that we
are a happy family. We spend time
together, laugh, cry, rejoice in the smallest of milestones. And we do our best to raise awareness of this
condition that has touched our lives. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
For more information on
Hydrocephalus, please visit <a href="http://hydroassoc.org/">http://hydroassoc.org</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
To follow Aiden & Ryan’s story,
please visit <a href="http://hydrobabies.blogspot.com/">http://hydrobabies.blogspot.com</a><o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-indent: .5in;">
<br /></div>
Unknownnoreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-18906367840228968102012-08-20T10:43:00.004-07:002012-09-27T18:51:19.183-07:00Premature Rupture of Membranes <style>@font-face {
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<b>Premature Rupture of Membranes (PROM) and
Preterm Premature Rupture of Membranes (pPROM)</b></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7wJAJvrpmKnkoTJt4Pg6O5sfPniQb_omhjdlergu9iKIhOTg2N02yhnaOOL0NxpuPBtfS2B3zr_5yTqmaaONnMzzh5RjiN3aPRfiXex4BE-YQs78Y-3-6scKFYe2IYGUXW-NWjEogzY_/s1600/Untitled.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjx7wJAJvrpmKnkoTJt4Pg6O5sfPniQb_omhjdlergu9iKIhOTg2N02yhnaOOL0NxpuPBtfS2B3zr_5yTqmaaONnMzzh5RjiN3aPRfiXex4BE-YQs78Y-3-6scKFYe2IYGUXW-NWjEogzY_/s1600/Untitled.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">Premature rupture of membranes (PROM) refers
to a woman who is beyond 37 weeks' gestation and has presented with rupture of
membranes prior to the onset of labor. Rupture of membranes is more commonly
referred to as “water broke” or “broken sac”. Preterm premature rupture of membranes pPPROM) is a repture
of membranes prior to 37 weeks' gestation</span>. <span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">pPROM
is associated with 30-40% of preterm deliveries and is the leading identifiable
cause of preterm delivery. pPROM
complicates 3% of all pregnancies and occurs in approximately 150,000
pregnancies yearly in the United States.<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftn1" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[1]</span></a></span><br />
<br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Arial; font-size: 10pt;"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftn2" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference"><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">[2]</span></span></a><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;"></span><br />
<b><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">Causes</span></b><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
</div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">At term, programmed cell death and activation
of catabolic enzymes, such as collagenase and mechanical forces, result in
ruptured membranes. Essentially,
it’s the normal “water broke” process that pregnant women experience, but often
prior to contractions / labor. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">pPROM is a bit more difficult to pinpoint
causes, however it is likely due to the same mechanisms and premature
activation of these pathways. However, pPROM appears to be linked to underlying
pathologic processes as well, most likely due to inflammation and/or infection
of the membranes. Clinical factors associated with pPROM include low
socioeconomic status, low body mass index, tobacco use, preterm labor history,
urinary tract infection, vaginal bleeding at any time in pregnancy, cerclage,
and amniocentesis. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftn3" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[3]</span></a></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<i><span style="color: #1f497d;">I was laying in bed while I was 25 weeks
pregnant with boy/girl twins, watching the evening news, when I felt wet “down
there”. I literally started
giggling as I thought to myself, “I’m only 25 weeks pregnant and I’m <u>already</u>
peeing my pants!” I got out of
bed, took my yoga pants off, and noticed it was a little more than the dribble
I felt. I walked to the bathroom
where I sat on the toilet, stood up, and a huge WOOSH of water came out. I knew right then and there that it
wasn’t urine, it was fluid, and that my water had broke. I called my OB and she told me to put a
pad on and get to the hospital. I
told them that at this point we were beyond a pad, hung up the phone, stuck a
towel between my legs, and headed to the hospital where they confirmed almost
immediately via an AmnioSense strip test that it was amniotic fluid. Looking back, I believe bleeding from a</span>
</i><a href="http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/404971-overview"><i>subchorionic hemorrhage or hematoma</i></a><i> <span style="color: #1f497d;">present with
Baby A from weeks 9 until 17 deteriorated her sac and caused my pPROM.</span></i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<b>Treatment and Risks</b></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
Unfortunately, there is no
treatment for PROM or pPROM. With
PROM doctors feel that, in the majority of cases, it is safer for both the
mother and baby to induce labor and deliver early. However, some doctors may choose to put a mother on hospital
bedrest and a non-stress test (NST) given daily to monitor the baby and ensure
there is no distress. Antibiotics
are likely to be administered to ward off infection. There remain different schools of thought, but PROM mothers
are likely to face immediate delivery.</div>
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">The course of action for pPROM is significantly
different. Mothers are put on strict
hospital bed rest with constant monitoring unless there are other significant
risks to the mother and / or baby to consider including fetal distress. In those cases, immediate delivery is
suggested. The hope is to stop /
prevent labor and stave off infection for as long as possible with the goal to keep
the baby in for as long as possible until it is safer outside than inside. Since amniotic fluid is essentially
baby urine, a baby can last quite some time in a broken sac as long as
infection stays away. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">Magnesium sulfate is often given to stop labor
and corticosteroid shots (ex. betamethasone) to help accelerate the development
of the baby’s lungs. Magnesium
sulfate is also linked to protecting the sensitive tissues of the brain in
premature babies and can lessen the risk of cerebral palsy. An antibiotic regimen is also started
to work against any potential infection and NSTs are conducted at least
daily. Additional monitoring such
as ultrasounds to identify size and monitor fluid levels may be prescribed as
well. </span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<i><span style="color: #1f497d;">An ultrasound was conducted that showed
Baby A, baby girl Keltie, had a broken sac and low amniotic fluid. Baby B, baby boy Colton, had a sac
still intact and both babies were not in distress. While in the admitting room, they also found I was
contracting every 3-4 minutes and I was immediately given a steroid shot (the
first in a series of two) and started on magnesium sulfate to stop the
labor. I was put on strict bed
rest where I couldn’t get up to use the bathroom or shower. But, I was willing to do anything to
keep the babies inside for as long as possible. I had three goals given to me: 1 – make it 24 hours for the second steroid shot, 2 – make
it another 24 hours past that to have the steroid series considered “complete”,
and 3 – make it to 26 weeks gestation where the survivability rate goes from
50% to 75% for the babies.</span></i></div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ908BogYdEwXoPg6FeR1VRKkXq8zXNViqMGGcXCnKbwXZd270EK-Hmx2qXwEMPITKSVtXnOI49u-8hkqEqL7H2Yp4D7XbVL7jkxHyGeaSLhCwJt0Cp1vUbDhE5YnsLdKGsvcASycfP1wd/s1600/Untitled2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiQ908BogYdEwXoPg6FeR1VRKkXq8zXNViqMGGcXCnKbwXZd270EK-Hmx2qXwEMPITKSVtXnOI49u-8hkqEqL7H2Yp4D7XbVL7jkxHyGeaSLhCwJt0Cp1vUbDhE5YnsLdKGsvcASycfP1wd/s1600/Untitled2.jpg" /></a><span style="font-family: Calibri; font-size: 11pt;">The vast majority of women proceed to go into
active labor and deliver soon after pPROM. With appropriate therapy and
conservative management, approximately 50% of all remaining pregnancies deliver
within one week after pPROM. Thus, very few women remain pregnant more than 3-4
weeks after pPROM. Spontaneous
sealing of the membranes does occur occasionally (< 10% of all cases),
mostly after pPROM that has occurred subsequent to amniocentesis; however, this
is the exception rather than the rule. <a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftn4" name="_ftnref" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[4]</span></a> Women suffering pPROM should ensure
they are at a hospital with a Level III NICU capable of dealing with babies
less than 34 weeks gestation. If
not, a transfer request should be made to one able to handle complicated
premature babies.</span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<i><span style="color: #1f497d;">I made it 4 days before Keltie stuck her
feet through my cervix and sent me into full blown labor. I was rushed in for an emergency
c-section and on January 24, 2012 at 3:19am at only 26 weeks and 1 day
gestation, I gave birth to two beautiful twins. Colton weighed 1lb, 13oz and Keltie weighed 1lb, 9oz and
both were 13 inches long. After
100 days in the NICU, Keltie joined us at home. Six weeks later and after 142 days in the NICU, her brother
Colton finally joined us – that was the happy ending we were waiting for. Today they are growing and thriving –
to learn more about our story, please visit: </span></i><a href="http://project26weekpreemies.wordpress.com/"><i>Project26WeekPreemies</i></a><i>. </i></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal;">
<i></i></div>
<div>
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<div id="ftn">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftnref" name="_ftn1" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[1]</span></a> http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/261137-overview#a1</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftnref" name="_ftn2" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[2]</span></a> http://www.tommys.org/page.aspx?pid=972</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftnref" name="_ftn3" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[3]</span></a> http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/261137-overview#a1</div>
</div>
<div id="ftn">
<div class="MsoFootnoteText">
<a href="http://www.blogger.com/blogger.g?blogID=8792846899960211827#_ftnref" name="_ftn4" title=""><span class="MsoFootnoteReference">[4]</span></a> http://emedicine.medscape.com/article/261137-overview#a1</div>
</div>
</div>
<br />Corahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01423039239674861175noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-43052942479657388942012-08-20T10:34:00.001-07:002012-09-27T18:51:51.873-07:00Anemia in the NICU & at home<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5maJymBt9pbsWVNAn4airPMNpv2Y4mG349gbCqSzo8Se4T6k7pZJbZfEHs3F4nWnjJUYqWrGADMeXDX-JTDRBjlV9IADzF4FnVgzErFYIXwChQZDDIGnL3ZD3Jn-s5MRZj4_JaphocAnG/s1600/Enfamil_PolyViSol_wIron_XL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg5maJymBt9pbsWVNAn4airPMNpv2Y4mG349gbCqSzo8Se4T6k7pZJbZfEHs3F4nWnjJUYqWrGADMeXDX-JTDRBjlV9IADzF4FnVgzErFYIXwChQZDDIGnL3ZD3Jn-s5MRZj4_JaphocAnG/s200/Enfamil_PolyViSol_wIron_XL.jpg" style="cursor: move;" width="200" /></a>Anemia is a common problem among premature babies in the NICU. Preemies
are immature, so the systems their bodies use to make red blood cells
are also immature. Even term babies have a normal period of anemia
around 2 months of age, so you can imagine how anemic a preemie can get!<br />
<br />
Most newborn babies have at least mild anemia. Infants' red blood cells
break down faster than new red blood cells are made. Babies are usually
at their most anemic around 2 to 3 months old, and gradually improve
over the next two years. This normal anemia usually doesn't need any
treatment other than a healthy diet with plenty of iron.<br />
<br />
Because they are born early, preemies may develop more a more severe
type of anemia called anemia of prematurity. In the last weeks of
pregnancy, two changes occur that help full term babies to make red
blood cells. First, a lot of the iron needed to make new red blood cells
is transferred from the mother to baby in the third trimester. Also, in
the last weeks of pregnancy, red blood cell production switches from
the liver to the bone marrow. Because the processes that make new red
blood cells are immature in preemies, preemies have a higher rate of
anemia and their anemia is more severe than in term babies.<br />
<br />
NICU care can make anemia in preterm infants worse. Doctors and
nurses try to limit the amount of blood that's drawn for lab tests, but
even small blood losses can affect very small preemies.<br />
Anemia can
only be diagnosed through a blood test. At our hospital, they took a few
drop of blood from the foot. If your baby shows symptoms of anemia,
doctors may do a blood test to count red blood cells (hemogloblin level)
or to look at the percentage of red blood cells in the blood
(hematocrit). These tests are often combined into one blood test, called
an "H and H" for hemoglobin level and hematocrit.<br />
<br />
Our 31
weeker (born at 2lb 3oz) had anemia. Thankfully, it didn’t require any
blood transfusions (those are reserved for the severe cases of anemia),
but upon discharge, we were instructed to give 1ml of Poly-vi-sol with
iron each day (you can get this over the counter). At her one year
appointment, her anemia blood test came back clean, and we were able to
stop the Poly-vi-sol with iron. <br />
<br />
The medicine tastes pretty bad
(and smells worse). Therefore, I recommend mixing it with a bit of
formula or breastmilk to mask the taste. You may also find that
constipation is a side effect or the iron. Corahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01423039239674861175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-68103439706192753742012-08-08T09:48:00.000-07:002012-09-27T18:52:24.260-07:00Group B Streptococcal<b>Group B Streptococcal </b><br />
<br />
Group B Streptococcal, other wise known as Group B Strep or GBS, is a bacteria carried by 30 percent of adults in their intestines and 25 percent of women vaginally. GBS
can cause life threatening infections such as sepsis (blood disease),
Meningitis (infection of fluid and lining around the brain) and also
pneumonia in a newborn or premature baby. Babies typically get GBS after it is passed from their mother, to them during birth. <br />
<br />
<b>Diagnosing GBS:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Every woman is tested for GBS during her pregnancy
between weeks 35 and 37. It is a simple test that just requires a
sterile swab (Q Tip) to collect a sample from a woman's vagina and
rectum. </li>
<li>If a woman goes into labor before 35 weeks, then her doctor can still perform the swab test when she comes into the hospital. </li>
<li>25% of pregnant women carry Group B Strep and are considered GBS positive or Group B Strep positive. </li>
<li>Women who test positive for GBS usually show no signs of the bacteria infection, however they are at risk for passing the bacteria on to their baby. </li>
<li>Group B Strep is NOT a sexually transmitted disease </li>
</ul>
<b>Preventive ways to keep a baby from getting GBS positive:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Women who are considered GBS positive will receive antibiotics through an IV during labor.</li>
<li>Women who go into labor before week 37 will usually receive antibiotics during labor</li>
<li>Women who's water has broke 18hrs or more before delivery will typically receive antibiotics during delivery</li>
<li>Women who have fevers during labor will be given antibiotics during delivery. \</li>
<li>Women who have already had a baby with GBS does not need to be tested again, she will automatically be put on antibiotics during delivery.</li>
<li>If you are having a scheduled C section and your water has not broke, then you most likely will not need antibiotics. </li>
<li>Women who get antibiotics during labor have a 1 and 4,000 chance of delivering a baby with Group B Strep. If a Women who is GBS positive does not receive antibiotics during delivery, her baby has a 1and 200 chance of developing Group B Strep positive. </li>
</ul>
<b>Signs of GBS Positive in a newborn and premature babies:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>Difficulty feeding</li>
<li>Irritability</li>
<li>Hard to wake baby up</li>
<li>Difficulty breathing</li>
<li>Blue-ish color to skin</li>
<li>High/low Temperature</li>
<li>low blood pressure</li>
<li>high/low heart rate</li>
</ul>
<b>How it is diagnosed in newborn and premature babies:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>The only sure way to diagnose Group B Strep in babies is to do a spinal tap to test the spinal fluid for the bacteria. </li>
</ul>
<b>Treatment for newborn or premature baby with Group B Strep positive:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>They are treated with antibiotics through an IV for several days, and sometimes weeks. </li>
</ul>
<br />
<b>Early onset disease: </b><br />
<ul>
<li>Early onset disease means that a newborn or premature baby will show signs of having GBS positive within the first week of life, and it is usually within the first day. </li>
<li>For early onset disease Group B Strep usually causes sepsis (infection of the blood), pneumonia and sometimes meningitis. </li>
</ul>
<b>Late onset disease: </b><br />
<ul>
<li>Late onset disease can occur from the first week through three months of life. </li>
<li>Late onset disease can have the same infections as early onset
disease, however meningitis is more common with late onset disease. </li>
</ul>
<b>Long term effects Group B Strep can cause:</b><br />
<ul>
<li>25% of babies who have meningitis caused by GBS develop Cerebral Palsy, Hearing problems, Learning problems, and seizures</li>
<li>Care for sick babies has drastically improved in the U.S., however
4-6% of babies with group B strep die from their infections. And
premature babies are more likely to die from GBS than full-term babies. </li>
</ul>
<br />
While researching GBS positive to write this article, I
could not find very much information on Group B Strep and premature
babies so I will share my daughter Nora's story with you.<br />
<br />
Nora was born at 25w5 days. When I went into labor with Nora I was
tested for Group B Strep and I tested positive so they put me on
antibiotics during my labor. I also had a sever infection of my uterus
called Chorio, so I had almost every symptom listed above to be put on antibiotics to prevent Nora from getting GBS positive. I had high fever, UTI, premature labor, infection, and I tested positive for it, so on the antibiotics I went. <br />
<br />
Nora was born with an infection but it was not GBS, it was chorio so she was automatically put on antibiotics at birth for the first 2 weeks of life. After her birth all we heard about was chorio,
so I did not think we had to worry about Group B Strep at all. 3 weeks
after Nora was born she came down with another infection, again not GBS. She was re-intubated and treated with antibiotics for a few days and then we continued on our NICU journey. <br />
<br />
It was not until Nora was 2 months old and 34weeks gestation, that
she became extremely sick. We got a phone call in the middle of the
night telling us that Nora had stopped breathing (she was on nasal
cannula at .5L and 21% oxygen) and that they were having to constantly
stimulate her to breath. We had been down this road a few weeks earlier
when she had gotten the infection, and I never wanted to go down this
road again. My husband and I went up to the hospital, where I held my
almost 4lb baby girl and had to pat her back, rub her head and beg her
to breath every 2 or 3 minutes. Nora turned every shade of blue, white
and grey and those are colors I never want to see on my child again.
Nora stopped breathing several times in 2 hours and the Neonatologists
decided it was time to give her poor body a break and put her back on
the ventilator, run some blood cultures, and put her on antibiotics
right away. They were pretty sure it was an infection, they just had to
figure out which one it was. It was not until about 12hrs later that
her blood culture came back showing signs of GBS, so they then did a spinal tap on Nora (her 2nd one in the NICU) and that is when they discovered she had GBS positive. <br />
<br />
<div>
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXpi3bpFWIfkkcoAGJYdoMCEJ5-mGuBhf-YBtdLj3H1tIyYdBdgKoN0GL5qh4IgljZQm749n_jKqkxRbL2SR8KnC8Of0rREJ7SZaWCvzOBRAaDWthDMgaYcvw4VYF-j3VuQ9MOB6ToVtz/s1600/nora.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjaXpi3bpFWIfkkcoAGJYdoMCEJ5-mGuBhf-YBtdLj3H1tIyYdBdgKoN0GL5qh4IgljZQm749n_jKqkxRbL2SR8KnC8Of0rREJ7SZaWCvzOBRAaDWthDMgaYcvw4VYF-j3VuQ9MOB6ToVtz/s320/nora.jpg" width="320" /></a>I did not know anything about GBS positive and what
effects it could have on Nora but I could tell by the reaction of the
nurses when they heard her diagnosis that it was not good. They treated
Nora for meningitis, so she was on antibiotics for 21 days and they
kept a very close eye on her and anything out of the ordinary that may
happen. Nora decided that after 36hrs she did not want the ventilator
anymore and she extubated herself, by pulling
her ventilator tube out, and was able to go back to a 1L nasal cannula.
But she was very sick, lethargic, and swollen for several days. We
were told from our Neonatologist that when a baby gets an infection like GBS positive it can set them back for at least 2-4 weeks in their NICU stay because it just takes so long to fully recover from them. Our Neonatologist also told us it is very rare that they see GBS positive in a baby that is 2 Months old. He said they usually see GBS positive in the NICU right after birth. But he said in rare instances they will see late onset disease, where the GBS
has been sitting doormat and just resurfaces one day. I will never
forget that day but we are so thankful that today, Nora is 6 months old,
out of the NICU and doing great! </div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
If you would like to hear more about Nora's story you can follow her blog at <a href="http://purtylittlefowler.blogspot.com/" target="_blank">http://purtylittlefowler.<wbr></wbr>blogspot.com/</a></div>
<div>
</div>
<div>
In researching for this article I used the following websites:</div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.cdc.gov/groupbstrep/about/newborns-pregnant.html" target="_blank">http://www.cdc.gov/<wbr></wbr>groupbstrep/about/newborns-<wbr></wbr>pregnant.html</a></div>
<div>
<a href="http://www.marchofdimes.com/pregnancy/complications_groupb.html" target="_blank">http://www.marchofdimes.com/<wbr></wbr>pregnancy/complications_<wbr></wbr>groupb.html</a></div>
<br />Corahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01423039239674861175noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-71673343385214875342012-08-08T09:40:00.001-07:002013-01-11T20:02:29.388-08:00Infections in the NICU<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
What happens when an infection is suspected?</div>
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Often times through
out a NICU stay your preemie may acquire an infection of some kind. The
types of infections vary as widely as their symptoms as well as the
course of action taken. I remember the first few times the NICU notified
me of their suspicions I was terrified and was even more nervous when
they gave me a run down of what they would do to identify the infection
and the appropriate course of action. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
Once the medical
staff detected any sort of issue or “symptom” they would quickly jump
into action. It usually began with a blood draw that would be sent of
for a culture, and would sometimes also include a Spinal Tap as well. If
they noticed any type of discharge they would swab the air and send
that for a culture as well. Sonograms and/or x-rays could be expected to
depending on exactly what was suspected, for example: if there was an
area of the body that was swollen or if it was a possible repertory
infection they may x-ray their chest, etc.</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
After that the
waiting game began… the waiting for test results. Most often a
“positive” would come back on any test rather quickly which meant they
could then pursue treatment rapidly. Depending on what exactly the
medical team believed the infection was, they would start treatment
before that because waiting could causes the infection to get worse. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCnEzyzktrYQwQVdAPiVNAvUrUsUDv9Krx23nD3_suJotSD2mRXuv8hbWoxjMNCCSCwgvPGF3WQSd3zOzwr1yxPQRvXpm-kPLRw-jB7rUHuaC5UL_uj8eh4yyB8SfanPxtDJm_za8JWsde/s1600/images-1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiCnEzyzktrYQwQVdAPiVNAvUrUsUDv9Krx23nD3_suJotSD2mRXuv8hbWoxjMNCCSCwgvPGF3WQSd3zOzwr1yxPQRvXpm-kPLRw-jB7rUHuaC5UL_uj8eh4yyB8SfanPxtDJm_za8JWsde/s200/images-1.jpg" width="200" /></a>Something that is
important to remember is that you know your baby best. If you notice
something different, don’t be afraid to speak up. You are part of your baby’s care team too and early intervention and detection of an infection is the best treatment. </div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<br />
Here are some common infections for NICU babies: (check back often, we will add more soon!)</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin: 0in 0in 0pt;">
<a href="http://preemiemomblog.blogspot.com/2012/08/group-b-streptococcal.html"><b>Group B Streptococcal </b></a><br />
<b>Menigitis</b><br />
<b>MRSA</b><br />
<b>Osteomyelitis</b><br />
<b><span style="font-weight: normal;">Sepsis </span></b></div>
Corahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/01423039239674861175noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-63349008512073659152012-08-04T18:30:00.000-07:002012-08-04T19:26:43.584-07:00Kathy + Evelyn<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYuAm5JFIS3HOqcLhJV3YZcbgiecoFnGQ5ns9WWXPaMipeO5dMMlW2wG8ytQL8soqIE8kIvAZcU_N5XbSqit4PkMI2YK1M2PsZMevuewYXo8dX4Zij6EADdIKUWy7IhRKh3KpkJQ-LZM/s1600/2012-05-12_18-14-15_943.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjUYuAm5JFIS3HOqcLhJV3YZcbgiecoFnGQ5ns9WWXPaMipeO5dMMlW2wG8ytQL8soqIE8kIvAZcU_N5XbSqit4PkMI2YK1M2PsZMevuewYXo8dX4Zij6EADdIKUWy7IhRKh3KpkJQ-LZM/s320/2012-05-12_18-14-15_943.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: times, serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: times, serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: times, serif; font-size: 16px;">My pregnancy was going perfect. Had nothing wrong with anything, baby was growing great, I wasn't gaining too much weight. Just had normal aches and pains, nothing more. That all changed on April 30, 2012. I was 34 weeks exactly. I woke up swollen. My feet hurt if you touched them. This had never happened before. The swelling had always gone down overnight and my blood pressure has always been fine. Well, I took my blood pressure. 154/80. WHAT?! I called the doc to see if he wanted to see me earlier than my 11am appointment. They had me come in at 10. My BP at the office was 165/90. There was a little protein in my urine. My nurse, Linda, had me lie on my left side. She came back and my BP had dropped to 120/85. When my OB came in, he checked my cervix and I was slightly dialted and a little effaced. He put me on strict bed rest. Before I left we did an NST and ultrasound, both came back perfect. I had to do a 24 hour urine and was given BP medicine. I was to monitor my BP twice a day and if it got over 160 then I was to go straight to L&D. Our goal was to make it 3 more weeks to 37 weeks. I ended up in the hospital the next night and was observed overnight just to be discharged with a diagnosis of pre-e. I wasn't to move off the couch except to go to the bathroom or to my bed. Just great, I'm going to go crazy. When I went back to my OB's office on Friday of that week, he sent me directly to L&D because my BP wasn't getting better. I was going to be in the hospital until I delivered this baby. I felt perfectly fine but couldn't do anything. It was very frustrating. On May 7th I told my nurse that I thought my mucus plug had come out and they didn't seem concerned. The goal was now to get to 36 weeks which was Sunday May 13th. We can do this I thought. Well, 4am on May 8th rolled around and my LO had a different idea. My water broke. I didn't start feeling labor until around 1pm, 3 hours after they started pitocin. I didn't have to have mag because as soon as my water broke my BP went down. It was strangly good. At 3pm I was dialated to 4 so I got my epidural. By 530pm I was pushing! Mind you, this is my first, they never expected me to move that quick. At 7:17pm Evelyn Marie was born at 4lb 11oz and 18in long. She was perfect. Absolutley nothing wrong. She spent one week in the special care nursery as a feeder/grower. What a blessing she is!</span><br />
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: times, serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRmoxSXV3-LDOsGIk_E65fDE7foErX0vnVyEs97wf-5Xzk5SjArlx6hW5Nsd6WdEpVkgxgdTKGyWgmIQyWsI_iVGQGn80vaXb6PQ5uKuGpHm6oe7AQxceB0i5JEYMYbNx8MwOUI1OXjo/s1600/20120727_153955.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgIRmoxSXV3-LDOsGIk_E65fDE7foErX0vnVyEs97wf-5Xzk5SjArlx6hW5Nsd6WdEpVkgxgdTKGyWgmIQyWsI_iVGQGn80vaXb6PQ5uKuGpHm6oe7AQxceB0i5JEYMYbNx8MwOUI1OXjo/s320/20120727_153955.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: white; font-family: times, serif; font-size: 16px;"><br /></span>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-58301474165238928342012-08-03T14:16:00.004-07:002012-08-03T14:16:36.408-07:00Kristen + Cora<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_doiq_uYodwC5Pk8ns6vKtSJDuT7JO8ydnAdekEYdmnf4Sh4aH3zhRbTW9stCCf7d0mM6sa9qnPbXRX0DHqHZkcWOE8lR0G-dkOF3DEq2vzHVdcrM9mtTWqitsOn6uXXYslxlkrQbI-U/s1600/319792_979498001179_1028229497_n.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj_doiq_uYodwC5Pk8ns6vKtSJDuT7JO8ydnAdekEYdmnf4Sh4aH3zhRbTW9stCCf7d0mM6sa9qnPbXRX0DHqHZkcWOE8lR0G-dkOF3DEq2vzHVdcrM9mtTWqitsOn6uXXYslxlkrQbI-U/s400/319792_979498001179_1028229497_n.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
Dear Cora,<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
</div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The story
of the day you were born is a hard story for me to write. I wish I could write
something that was filled only with joy, expectation, and love. Those things
are all part of your story. But your birth wasn’t only a day of joy, it was
also one of the scariest days of my life because I was afraid that I would lose
you. Even now, 16 months later, its hard for me to admit that. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The night
before you were born, our lives seemed so very normal. Looking back, its bizaar
to me that there were no warnings. I went to a meeting at church, came home,
and tried to sleep. I woke up a few times that night with what I thought were
gas pains. I had experienced that before while I was pregnant so I thought it
was normal. By the morning when the gas pains had not gone away, I decided to
call the midwives just to make sure things were ok. They made me an appointment
for 10:30 that morning. I sent your dad to work and called to make sure your
Maw Maw knew I was going in. The whole time I kept reassuring everyone, including
myself, that it was not big deal, I was just being extra cautious.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I sat in
the waiting room for about 20 minutes before I got to see Theodora, one of the
midwives. She hooked me up to a monitor and it quickly became clear that I
wasn’t have gas pains, I was having real contractions. So she made arrangements
for me to be sent across the street to the hospital where they would stop the
contractions. I want you to know that at this point, no one had any idea that
you would be born a few hours later. I called your dad and asked him to come up
to the hospital to wait with me. He called your Maw Maw for me. The walk from
the midwives’ office to the hospital takes about 5 minutes. That’s how long it
took for me to go from “we will stop the contractions and send you home on
bedrest” to “we need to get some consults in here now!” I was checked into a
room at St. Lukes and things began to get scary quickly.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was
hooked up to several monitors and given an IV. Nurses, the midwives, and an OB
who I had never seen before kept coming in the room to check me and then
walking out for a hushed conversation. The OB examined me quickly, moved to
where I could see him and said “we are taking this baby now, we cannot wait.”
It was immediately like the world had stopped. I just stared at him thinking
that he must be wrong. I was only 27 weeks pregnant. I knew you were not ready
for the world yet. But ready or not, you were coming. Your dad walked in the
room just after that moment, I was so glad to see him. He was so scared but he
tried hard to take care of us instead of himself. The nurses gave him some blue
scrubs and wheeled me out of the room to prep me for surgery. He called your
Maw Maw, who was on her way to Austin for work, to tell her what was happening.
She immediately started calling every single person she could think of. She
asked them all to pray for you, and sweet girl I know it made a difference.
Then your dad signed a stack of papers-maybe the only time in his life your
father signed documents without reading them carefully. I learned all of this
later.<o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I was
wheeled into an operating room, moved to a surgical table and given an
epidural. After the medicine had started working, your dad was brought into the
room and the surgery began. I don’t remember much of the surgery. I was just so
scared. You did not cry when you were born. The doctors took you quickly and
began to work on you. They helped you breathe with a ventilator, gave you IVs
for medication, and wrapped you in saran wrap to help keep you warm. At some
point in the middle of all this, Dawn, the midwife who was with us, came to
tell me that you were a girl. I remember whispering “her name is Cora.” It was
really important to me that you had a name right away, that all the doctors and
nurses working on you knew your name. Soon they called your dad over to meet
you while I lay on the table still. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVeLoFM0b17So6xRaOLU_2CakEBFsOwIpnatduB4Y6JecHFoKz5Oj4Uhch_zy7C3X8bC7I9BFPyHbrKviFkG47MzPN7u02eUoXgEryV_PeewwKpZ7f44PyF8xuXPjIvK3LZivYmrWfRe8/s1600/close+up.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjVeLoFM0b17So6xRaOLU_2CakEBFsOwIpnatduB4Y6JecHFoKz5Oj4Uhch_zy7C3X8bC7I9BFPyHbrKviFkG47MzPN7u02eUoXgEryV_PeewwKpZ7f44PyF8xuXPjIvK3LZivYmrWfRe8/s320/close+up.jpg" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Your dad
came back to tell me that you were beautiful. There were tears in his eyes when
he returned and I knew he was scared. He told me again and again how precious
you were. The TCH team was ready to move you to the NICU. They stopped on their
way out to give me a minute to meet you before taking you away. I remember
touching your itty bitty hand. You were the tiniest thing I’ve ever see. And
the most beautiful. I already loved you but in that moment I knew I loved you
more than anything else in the world. And I was terrified that something would
happen to take you away. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
The next
few hours are pretty blurry for me. Your Papoo, PePaw, Pastor Kerry, and Beth
were the first people to get to the hospital. The rest of your grandparents
quickly followed. I remember calling your uncles to tell them that you were here,
how beautiful you were, and how tiny. Your dad came back to tell me that you
were doing well and settled into your new home in bed A8 of the Purple Pod. He
took your grandparents to meet you and they all came to tell me how amazing you
were. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Later I
learned that when you dad took you to the NICU, the nurses asked him if you had
a name and he said “I think its Cora, that’s what her mom said.” He was so
overwhelmed. But the nurses made you a special name plate for your isolette. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
It was
after midnight before I was allowed to see you. I fought hard to be with you my
sweet girl. It was all I could think about. So as soon as I was able, your dad
pushed my wheelchair to your bedside and I was able to really see you for the
first time. You were black and blue, covered in tubes and wire, but already so
beautiful and so very strong. You had amazed the doctors already. Within hours
of your birth, you were able to breathe well enough on your own to have the
ventilator removed. I never saw you with that machine breathing for you. By the
time I saw you, you had a CPAP hat and mask helping you breathe but you were
fighting to do it yourself. I would learn quickly how determined you were. I
truly believe your inner strength helped save your life. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
Cora, the
day you were born was such a scary, emotional day for me. It will always have
those memories. But it was also the day I learned that it is possible to love
someone more than you love yourself. I learned that watching your baby fight to
live can inspire the kind of love that doesn’t have words. I learned that a
tiny 2lb 10oz baby can move people around the world to prayer. And I knew that
you would bring more joy and more love to our lives than I ever thought
possible. On that day I knew that in making me your mom, God had changed my
life forever. <o:p></o:p></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
I love you more than words can say and I am so proud to be
your mommy. <o:p></o:p><br />
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDJrK3KOHUDLOyTsh6Z6T6OMedXoulcM8NDz5rg083lCkWgsdegzBtoaSGWUZYdWmyFl8uAe6YNPAYitVXarsW4vPh8_ecLE3RMFvpZwOcX3-czLBq38KBcJSttGYzAFHmW1KlLTfP2g/s1600/IMG_0541.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVDJrK3KOHUDLOyTsh6Z6T6OMedXoulcM8NDz5rg083lCkWgsdegzBtoaSGWUZYdWmyFl8uAe6YNPAYitVXarsW4vPh8_ecLE3RMFvpZwOcX3-czLBq38KBcJSttGYzAFHmW1KlLTfP2g/s320/IMG_0541.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<br /></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-36105512061811104672012-08-02T18:56:00.000-07:002012-08-02T18:56:03.550-07:00How I Accomplished Breastfeeding in NICU by Jana<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3Q0B2LDOCGMjYobLUFAhcfKu87A9S9ga2SzDoIgOPMZzqKaXKDsXNc2y7JVl3jvSS6WX-UlF0yzwHUldpiGE2i40ODJv3TSPXMtnGswuK4yeOHrzwZnU2qJqhBYhT0I-uxCW7FlKyG8/s1600/IMG_1082.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><span style="color: black;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgR3Q0B2LDOCGMjYobLUFAhcfKu87A9S9ga2SzDoIgOPMZzqKaXKDsXNc2y7JVl3jvSS6WX-UlF0yzwHUldpiGE2i40ODJv3TSPXMtnGswuK4yeOHrzwZnU2qJqhBYhT0I-uxCW7FlKyG8/s320/IMG_1082.jpg" width="320" /></span></a></div>
<div style="background-color: white; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;"><br /></span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; padding: 0px;">
<span style="font-family: inherit;">When I found out I was pregnant I knew I wanted to breastfeed. The thought of feeding my child any other way never crossed my mind. I even had conversations with a few friends who were also pregnant at the time. They had mentioned their desire to breastfeed as well but also their fear that it just wouldn't work out. That thought never crossed my mind.</span></div>
<div style="background-color: white; padding: 0px;">
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">While this is a story about my success with breastfeeding a preemie I need to start with sharing a bit of Isaac's birth story with you. My pregnancy was going great. Until the last trimester. Enter high blood pressure, pre-eclampisa and bed rest. Add in a baby that quit growing and you have a 3 pound 4.5 ounce baby born at 35 weeks.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I had a few strikes against me right from the start. First of all, I had to have a c-section. I had no labor at all. The combination of having Isaac early and the c-section confused my body. I mean I was still suppose to be pregnant after all. My body didn't know right away that I had had a baby.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Before Isaac was born they told me if things looked okay we'd be able to try and breastfeed and do skin to skin within the first hour after he was born. Unfortunately he was having problems breathing in his own. So there was no way we could try breastfeeding or do skin to skin. Enter strike two.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Strike three is probably the hardest of them all. Isaac needed a NICU. The hospital we were at didn't have one. So he had to be airlifted to a NICU 1.5 hours away. I didn't see him for three days.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I started pumping within an hour of Isaac's birth. I continued to pump every 2 hours during the day and every 3-4 hour at night. For the first two days it was all about signaling the body that it was time to produce milk. I didn't get anything from pumping except a few drops every once it awhile. It was very discouraging. At one point I got about half an ounce and I wanted to jump for joy. By the time I was released from the hospital I was probably producing less than an ounce a day. Whatever I managed to get with pumping I would save for Isaac. Pumping was extremely hard to do simply because there was no emotional connection. I was able to hold Isaac once before he was airlifted. Not being able to see my child made things extremely hard. Looking at pictures helped. But it was still hard.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">When Isaac and I were reunited it was still to soon for him to try nursing. He was still really little and slept a majority of the time. So I continued to pump. The NICU had a room with a pump so I was able to stay at the hospital as much as possible. We tried to do skin to skin when we could and finally when Isaac was a week old I met with the lactation consultant, LC, for the first time. She helped me with getting him latched and told me what cues and signals that I needed to look for ensure he was sucking and swallowing. I was watching for raised eyebrows and ear wiggles. That's how I knew Isaac was swallowing.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Once we started nursing I wanted to do it all the time but I couldn't. Isaac was still really little and still slept a ton. Nursing was something that really pooped him out. He rarely ever cued that he was hungry so it really was all about going through the motions. Once Isaac was nursing successful with one feeding we increased it to two. We continued to increase the feedings when he did well. It didn't always go well though and it was emotionally draining on those days. Somedays he'd show no interest in nursing at all. Sometimes he'd get latched on but wouldn't do anything but sit there and he wouldn't eat. When he did nurse he's eat for a few minutes and then fall asleep. We kept working at it though and I met with the LC many times. I continued to pump the same amount I was before. Every 2 hours during the day and every 3-4 hours at night. When Isaac nursed I'd pump afterwards. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">I'll be honest. Nursing in the NICU kinda sucks. We were put on schedules of when I had to try nursing. Typically they were always on the hour but they wanted me there 30 minutes before just in case Isaac was wanting to eat before. If they wanted me to try nursing at 8am they wanted me there at 7:30 just in case. He had to be awake to eat and sometimes he'd be sleepy. Sometimes he wouldn't wake up, even when we tried to wake him. After every time he was awake and nursed they'd ask me how it went. They'd ask me if I thought he ate enough and if I thought he needed more. I was a first time mom. I had no idea. There was so much pressure. Most of the time they'd give Isaac more milk through a feeding tube. When we were first trying to teach him to nurse they usually give him a few tube feeds in between our nursing sessions. I really just wanted to feed him on demand. I wanted to feed him when he was showing signs of hunger, but it can't be done that way. Not when you have a tiny baby on your hands.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Isaac was released when we were able to successfully nurse a full day. They took his feeding tube out and we (my husband and I) roomed in with Isaac. He was released the next day. Isaac and I continued struggle at home with latching on and the length of nursing but we weren't bound by schedules so it made things a lot easier. When Isaac came home the LC told me to keep up with the pumping after every feeding and then drop a pumping session every few days. I am not sure why they wanted me to do this but as a first time mom I listened. It created an oversupply issue which made nursing even more challenging. I was almost always engorged which would often cause milk to get everywhere whenever Isaac would try to nurse. I did some research and spoke with the LC who told me to stop pumping and then try block feeding. I had to nurse from one side for several hours while leaving the other side alone. Then after 2-3 feedings I nursed from the other side. It was an extremely painful process. But it was corrected after a few days. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Isaac is almost five months old and we still need to use the cross cradle hold because he still needs my support with his head. Sometimes we are able to do the cradle hold but not very often. A majority of the time he is able to get latched on right away with no issues but it took a long time for us to get to that point. His nursing sessions are never very long. Usually only 10-15 minutes. Sometimes a little longer. And he rarely nurses from both sides. At first I was concerned, especially in the NICU because all the classes and books say 15-20 minutes on one side and 10-15 on the other side. But he was always getting enough. I guess the books and classes are wrong sometimes. It was a long process and there were so many times I wanted throw in the towel. It was really hard but I just couldn't allow myself to do that. Now I look back at everything we went through and I am so proud that we managed to beat every obstacle that came before us. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: inherit;">Don't give up! Just keep working at it! You won't regret it! </span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8792846899960211827.post-16413421771648831242012-08-01T17:54:00.000-07:002012-08-03T17:16:18.685-07:00The A’s and B’s of NICU and Beyond<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you don’t know your A’s and B’s allow me to briefly
explain.<o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">A is for apnea, a temporary cessation of breathing.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">B is for bradycardia, when the heart rate slows to 80 or
less beats per minute. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Most babies in NICU will experience both of these at some
point. They can be very frightening, but luckily most babies grow out of them
quickly. A/B’s can become a hurdle for preemies leaving NICU because they’ll
need to be episode-free for several days before discharge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">In some circumstances you’ll be given an apnea monitor to
take home with you. They’re very loud (and sensitive!) so you’ll know by the
lights and beeps what your child is experiencing.</span><br />
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMp6CrfAdfhvkSemsbqfUYcKpZGQyA_S71LXA2kIJaUBjDnO8JUzOS_6EcyKaTsuMJ-NZYYrLQc9SWJ8A97FJ8bM1tUdqmE9NlelavcduByHQ6jiEOsDnrG70sWVcZbcigfdSFSDL7m-E/s1600/home+016.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="150" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgMp6CrfAdfhvkSemsbqfUYcKpZGQyA_S71LXA2kIJaUBjDnO8JUzOS_6EcyKaTsuMJ-NZYYrLQc9SWJ8A97FJ8bM1tUdqmE9NlelavcduByHQ6jiEOsDnrG70sWVcZbcigfdSFSDL7m-E/s200/home+016.JPG" width="200" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Leaving NICU with a monitor.</td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<span style="font-family: Calibri;">While in NICU practice not watching the monitors – focus on
your child! It’s harder than it sounds because when you hear the alarm you want
to see what is happening. Leave the monitors for the nurses and instead focus
on your child. You’ll need to see how they are doing and if stimulation is
needed. Give your baby a chance to do it themselves as hard as it is to not
step in immediately.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Like all preemie things they will grow out of A/B’s. For
some it might be a matter of days but for others it might take a few months.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">Your baby will be monitored by a team of apnea doctors who
will analyze the information recorded on your monitor. At first your baby will
probably have to be attached 24/7 but once their stats improve you’ll only have
to keep them on it at night. Do not brush off your doctor’s instructions! It
will only delay getting them off the monitor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Calibri;">If your baby is turning colors, having a significant amount
of A/B’s per day, and/or requiring stimulation on many occasions please contact
your doctor immediately and/or go to the ER.</span></div>Unknownnoreply@blogger.com1