This morning started like most in our new world. Blood draws at 4am, x-ray machine wheeled in at 7am, shortly followed by the ultrasound machine. This morning was a busy one for our little guy. A few hours later our doctor rounded through and we got the plan for the day and an update on what's going on with our mini Cooper. I'll start with the good news...the brain ultrasound came back normal, no bleeds, thank God. The CBC (complete blood count) came back showing platelet levels at 124,000, a MUCH different picture than yesterday's count of 52,000. We're still a bit unsure of this giant jump and what that may mean but all we're focusing on is that they are in a safe spot so that's great! His chest x-ray looked much the same...hazy but ok. He is doing well with his feedings for the most part, despite lack of a bowel movement in over 24 hours, so they are increasing the amount of breast milk he gets at each one...more good news. They have also chosen to take him off of his regular dose of caffeine (he required it because preemie's systems are so immature that they often just forget to breathe and the caffeine stimulates that reflex) because his heart rate is running a bit high, jumping even higher, and because of his bought of SVT.
Then came the "ify" news (it never really begins as bad news since most of it is 'watch and see' stuff that can turn bad or good). His indirect billirubin numbers are fine (those are the levels that are linked to needing those lights I talked about before and you've seen in pictures) but, against the odds his direct billirubin numbers have jumped. The doctor explained that this doesn't usually happen and is alarming enough to require further testing. These levels are linked to his liver so at 4am during his usual blood draw they will be testing for some enzymes to make sure his liver is functioning properly. If it comes back abnormal they will need to ultrasound his liver and see what's going on. We were told not to lose any sleep over this at this point, it could be just fine. It's alot easier said than done this not losing sleep over your sick and helpless baby stuff but I'm working on it. Maybe this is just mommy intuition or just me being overly nervous but the liver is where my thoughts have been lingering through most of this stuff so I'm very curious to see what we find out. My brother's surgeon Marleta is a tremendous blessing to our family and has been calling and checking in on our Cooper. She brought up the liver the day she found out about his early arrival and symptoms so if we're facing an issue with it I will not be the least bit surprised. I have yet to get a straight answer on what exactly a problem with this would mean but I plan to do lots of research once I'm done with this post.
Our day today should be uneventful...as long as Cooper behaves himself. Much like yesterday but more news to come in the morning. As we were going through today's plans our nurse sat down with us to just chat about the weeks and months to come. All those details that we were too frail to think of before...insurance, billing, after hospital intervention, etc. It felt so odd talking about going home so early in our journey but it also felt good. It felt nice to say those things out loud. To allow myself to believe that our future is a bright one. I've been holding on to that hope but I just couldn't allow myself to think about it for fear that it may not happen. I also couldn't think about the alternative to bringing our boy home. I don't even dare to say it out loud now. It's just too heart wrenching to consider. As I'm contemplating all of these things I heard a gut wrenching cry from the hall and knew in an instant what that mother just 2 doors over faced. Her baby's outcome was the unspeakable. Her cries took my breath and my aching heart heaved for hers. I couldn't hold myself together just hearing her agony. That cry flooded me and made me think of our dear friends who too just faced the cruel reality of losing their baby. I can't even contemplate the heart ache they must be feeling. I long to cover them in comfort and peace. Surround them with love, and take it all away. I feel so selfish being so caught up and sad about my new normal...praise God for my new normal and for the difficult times I'm facing. Their new normal is so very different, and I'm so sorry for that. I ache for them and have been continuously praying since hearing that horrific sound.
The nurse knew just what I needed and placed my boy in my arms. I couldn't hold him close enough. I'm so thankful for every breath that boy takes. Even if he weren't mine forever he is mine now and I'm thankful.
I just want to end this post with a special thank you to Matt and Betsy Mitchell. We love you with all our hearts and can't even put into words how deeply we appreciate everything you have done. In the midst of your struggles and pain you have carried yourselves with such beauty and grace and put us ahead of yourselves. You are a blessing beyond words and your spirits are so bright. You are loved so deeply and lifted in prayer so often. Your sweet Kate has touched the hearts of many and brought such blessings. She'll always be remembered and loved! xoxo
Monday, October 29, 2012
Sunday, October 28, 2012
Through the valley
I think I already wrote this on facebook but want to make sure to document it here for my own sake.
On the way to the hospital I was full of fear yet somehow calmed by knowing I was on my way to the help I needed. I just had a sense of something lurking around the corner and an urgency to prepare for it. I turned on 107.1 (the Christian station for my non-Des Moinesers) and prayed for strength and courage. This song rang out as I was round the corner for Mercy and I just sat there listening and crying telling God, "If you want me to I will go. I will walk this walk. I am here and YOU are with me. Carry me through this" I know this sounds insane but it happened and I'm so thankful for the small bit of preparation that the Lord blessed me with that night. It, of course, didn't completely prepare me but it connected me to my faith and to a source of strength outside of myself and for that I'm truly grateful!
On the way to the hospital I was full of fear yet somehow calmed by knowing I was on my way to the help I needed. I just had a sense of something lurking around the corner and an urgency to prepare for it. I turned on 107.1 (the Christian station for my non-Des Moinesers) and prayed for strength and courage. This song rang out as I was round the corner for Mercy and I just sat there listening and crying telling God, "If you want me to I will go. I will walk this walk. I am here and YOU are with me. Carry me through this" I know this sounds insane but it happened and I'm so thankful for the small bit of preparation that the Lord blessed me with that night. It, of course, didn't completely prepare me but it connected me to my faith and to a source of strength outside of myself and for that I'm truly grateful!
As the world turns...
Last night I found myself beyond exhausted yet not wanting to sleep. I can't even explain the feeling or why it was there but I just didn't want to close my eyes. I didn't want to stay at home away from my boy but I also didn't want to stay in the stillness of his dark room while he slept and his monitors flashed. Both options left me feeling empty with a big pit of anxiety in my stomach. I just couldn't put my finger on what the problem was. This morning I still can't. I want to be alone yet I'm afraid of the silence. I want company but struggle to keep a conversation. I want to hold my baby yet I'm afraid to at times. I want to play with my daughter but lack the energy. I'm just a big ball of contradiction and confusion. I have moments when I can literally see the light at the end of this dark tunnel and then moments where it feels like the end is no where in sight, or to bleak to look at. I'm lost in the haze of this reality so often.
Don't get me wrong, I'm fully aware it could be much worse. We are blessed beyond words to see the life literally running through our boy with each squiggle of the monitor. God gave him to us despite the obstacles Cooper has already faced. He is here and that I'm thankful for. I'm just struggling with how to deal with what's to come and what I'm seeing everyday. I've seen my boy's heart beat disappear far to often (once is too much to be honest). Feeling it race out of control was just as terrifying. Every small hiccup feels like a ton weight being dropped on my shoulders. How do I carry this weight and still walk through my day as a mommy, a wife, a daughter, a sister, and a friend?? I have fallen so short in those roles this past week and I'm beginning to feel a weight added because of that as well. I'm so short with people and so focused on the path ahead that real life, the one outside of these hospital walls, has seemed to cease. I'm well aware that in actuality it hasn't, and I'm devastated that the world continues to turn for everyone else when mine has stopped. I wish I could just pause time until Cooper is ready to head out into reality with me. Us together. Us as a family. Myself, Neil, Cooper, and Ellie, together, as it should be. Every time I'm coaxed to leave Cooper's room the stark reminder that life is still going on all around me shocks me back to reality. I have to move forward. My daughter needs me to spend time with her. Neil has to go back to work. My parents can't be here forever. I have to face the fact that I'm not going to get what I want. I just can't bring myself to figure it out yet despite the lingering fact that Tuesday Neil will have to wake up and head to work and I'll be left for 8 hours a day to fight this battle between the two pieces of my heart. I hate this situation so much. I can't put it into words. The loss of control and the painful reality that something has to give. I just hate it all.
Through those feelings I try my best to cling to faith knowing that God brought us to this for a reason. He knew this was coming from the time he created me. He has prepared me for this even though I feel so ill-equipped. I tell myself it's in His hands and I know how capable those hands are. Even with those thoughts and that faith I'm still angry and fighting the whole thing. Good thing my God is a big God and He can take my fight. I'm sure it doesn't surprise Him...he made me a bit feisty.
As I type this I'm sitting next to my husband as he holds our baby boy (he has been gracious enough to let me do the holding each day except one so it was finally his turn again) and I long to stop time but, as we already went over, that's impossible. That fact is made even more evident by the sounds I'm hearing in the room next door. A new baby has joined the NICU. Another 30 weeker. A sweet and precious baby girl fighter this time. I don't know the details but the scene is all too familiar. The cart she came in on and the masks and gloves working over her tiny body. I ache for those parents I am going to be seeing day in and day out for the weeks and months to come. It's a battle no one should have to face. The world is full of these dark times, many darker than my own, and they just aren't fair. I will be praying for this sweet girl and her family everyday and I ask you all to do the same.
Enough about me and my ramblings. On to Cooper! Mini Coop had a great night full of rest and peaceful sleep. Since baby got to sleep so did mommy. This past week must finally be catching up with me because I feel as if I could sleep for days. I just might! We began our morning around 7am with a second blood draw because the first clotted and they couldn't run the CBC (complete blood count). After that it was just feedings (4ml of breast milk dripped into his stomach through a tube in his throat), vitals, diaper changes, and repositioning until the doctor did rounds and let us know the plan for the day. Dr. Murphy is the neonatal doctor here today and also the one that took Cooper once the OB got him out of me. He filled us in on the news that despite Cooper's impressive platelet count of 104,000 yesterday his CBC came back at 52,000 today, just 2,000 away from yet another transfusion. Bummer! We were so excited that his count had gone up yesterday that this was quite the blow. We just don't know what's going on with him and his platelets, but the dropping of them puts him at a greater risk of internal bleeds which is terrifying. The doctor isn't terribly concerned yet and ordered another CBC for the morning along with another chest x-ray and a head ultrasound to make sure there is no bleeding on the brain. As for the rest of the day it should be a quiet one. No medications to run besides his IV nutrients and no tests to endure. Just eating, sleeping, peeing, and pooping. My boy must really like to mess with mommy because he has peed and pooped on me quite often lately. It's funny how happy it makes me when it happens though. It means his body is working and I love that reassurance! I'm ok with a little poop and pee if it can bring a smile to my face during these long days of waiting and praying.
Thanks for reading, praying, and supporting. We love you all! Don't forget to pray for our new neighbor, Pipper.
Don't get me wrong, I'm fully aware it could be much worse. We are blessed beyond words to see the life literally running through our boy with each squiggle of the monitor. God gave him to us despite the obstacles Cooper has already faced. He is here and that I'm thankful for. I'm just struggling with how to deal with what's to come and what I'm seeing everyday. I've seen my boy's heart beat disappear far to often (once is too much to be honest). Feeling it race out of control was just as terrifying. Every small hiccup feels like a ton weight being dropped on my shoulders. How do I carry this weight and still walk through my day as a mommy, a wife, a daughter, a sister, and a friend?? I have fallen so short in those roles this past week and I'm beginning to feel a weight added because of that as well. I'm so short with people and so focused on the path ahead that real life, the one outside of these hospital walls, has seemed to cease. I'm well aware that in actuality it hasn't, and I'm devastated that the world continues to turn for everyone else when mine has stopped. I wish I could just pause time until Cooper is ready to head out into reality with me. Us together. Us as a family. Myself, Neil, Cooper, and Ellie, together, as it should be. Every time I'm coaxed to leave Cooper's room the stark reminder that life is still going on all around me shocks me back to reality. I have to move forward. My daughter needs me to spend time with her. Neil has to go back to work. My parents can't be here forever. I have to face the fact that I'm not going to get what I want. I just can't bring myself to figure it out yet despite the lingering fact that Tuesday Neil will have to wake up and head to work and I'll be left for 8 hours a day to fight this battle between the two pieces of my heart. I hate this situation so much. I can't put it into words. The loss of control and the painful reality that something has to give. I just hate it all.
Through those feelings I try my best to cling to faith knowing that God brought us to this for a reason. He knew this was coming from the time he created me. He has prepared me for this even though I feel so ill-equipped. I tell myself it's in His hands and I know how capable those hands are. Even with those thoughts and that faith I'm still angry and fighting the whole thing. Good thing my God is a big God and He can take my fight. I'm sure it doesn't surprise Him...he made me a bit feisty.
As I type this I'm sitting next to my husband as he holds our baby boy (he has been gracious enough to let me do the holding each day except one so it was finally his turn again) and I long to stop time but, as we already went over, that's impossible. That fact is made even more evident by the sounds I'm hearing in the room next door. A new baby has joined the NICU. Another 30 weeker. A sweet and precious baby girl fighter this time. I don't know the details but the scene is all too familiar. The cart she came in on and the masks and gloves working over her tiny body. I ache for those parents I am going to be seeing day in and day out for the weeks and months to come. It's a battle no one should have to face. The world is full of these dark times, many darker than my own, and they just aren't fair. I will be praying for this sweet girl and her family everyday and I ask you all to do the same.
Enough about me and my ramblings. On to Cooper! Mini Coop had a great night full of rest and peaceful sleep. Since baby got to sleep so did mommy. This past week must finally be catching up with me because I feel as if I could sleep for days. I just might! We began our morning around 7am with a second blood draw because the first clotted and they couldn't run the CBC (complete blood count). After that it was just feedings (4ml of breast milk dripped into his stomach through a tube in his throat), vitals, diaper changes, and repositioning until the doctor did rounds and let us know the plan for the day. Dr. Murphy is the neonatal doctor here today and also the one that took Cooper once the OB got him out of me. He filled us in on the news that despite Cooper's impressive platelet count of 104,000 yesterday his CBC came back at 52,000 today, just 2,000 away from yet another transfusion. Bummer! We were so excited that his count had gone up yesterday that this was quite the blow. We just don't know what's going on with him and his platelets, but the dropping of them puts him at a greater risk of internal bleeds which is terrifying. The doctor isn't terribly concerned yet and ordered another CBC for the morning along with another chest x-ray and a head ultrasound to make sure there is no bleeding on the brain. As for the rest of the day it should be a quiet one. No medications to run besides his IV nutrients and no tests to endure. Just eating, sleeping, peeing, and pooping. My boy must really like to mess with mommy because he has peed and pooped on me quite often lately. It's funny how happy it makes me when it happens though. It means his body is working and I love that reassurance! I'm ok with a little poop and pee if it can bring a smile to my face during these long days of waiting and praying.
Thanks for reading, praying, and supporting. We love you all! Don't forget to pray for our new neighbor, Pipper.
Saturday, October 27, 2012
Day #8: Post round one of PDA medication
It's only 9am and our boy has had a full day's work up done already. He's resting comfortably with a heart rate in the 160's and good stats so all is well now.
Last night was a bit bumpy but mostly because Cooper just didn't seem to want mommy to leave his side (what a wonderfully beautiful problem to face). Sleep eluded me so the nurse and I decided to give Cooper a sponge bath at midnight. The bath was not only a relief to his body in the end, but also a very important bonding time for me. To know that I can care for my baby is HUGE for my well being and cleaning him and touching his skin gives me such a sense of purpose and love.
He was soothed and snuggled up afterward and we thought he'd sleep so soundly...little did we know that all he wanted was mommy's touch and his pacifier. I spent over 3 hours standing at his side and holding his paci in his mouth. Any attempt I'd make to lay down was shortly followed by his whimpers and cries until I dragged myself back to his bedside and watched his heart rate immediately go back down and settle into a slow rhythm and then he'd lull back to sleep. What a stinker. Around 5am he was tuckered out and finally gave into some solid sleep without me directly touching him.
We rested until about 7:30am when his room sprang to life. First came his chest x-ray which he's been having pretty much every morning to get a good look at his lungs. Next came the good news that his platelets had raised on their own and were at a nice level. Then we discovered that his calcium was a bit low so they changed his nutrient concoction and that had to be rehung and started right away. Next came his "cares" (which I get to do). Yet another new term for me...basically it's checking his vitals, changing his diapers, changing his positioning, and cleaning out his mouth if need be. This is my favorite time of the day (besides the days I get to hold him) because, again, it gives me the sense that I can care for my baby. It's such an amazing feeling to know that I'm at least playing a part in this situation. Sometimes being a NICU mom leaves you feeling so helpless that you begin to think being there doesn't really matter at all. When you get to do your part, as small as that part may be, it brings peace and self-worth in this uncontrollable time. Cares bring joy to my heart and a sense of purpose to my soul. I'm his mommy and he needs me! Following cares came his echo cardiogram. The tech performing the echo couldn't tell me anything but we're praying his PDA has closed from the first round of medication and that we can avoid more meds and surgery. Once the echo was done we discovered that his IV is no longer working so it needed to be removed. Cooper has an IV and a pick line (an iv that basically goes up through this leg and straight into his heart). His pick line serves as means for his nutrients that continually flow through him 20-24 hours a day and his IV typically serves during transfusions (blood is too thick to go into the pick line) and medications. IV's tend to have a shelf life and go bad where as the pick line can last months, and since his stay is foreseen to be quite long, the pick line was his best option. That all being said, his IV has gone bad (this is #3) and it's time to do another if need be.
After all that madness I find that's it's only 9am and it feels as if a whole day has passed. Hospital time is so different than real time. It's easy to get lost in. The seconds can feel like centuries but then suddenly 4 hours have passed and you don't know what happened. It's very surreal and hard to grasp but again...it's our new normal so I'm working on getting use to it.
A bit after 9am Dr. Becker, our cardiologist walked in to go over the echo results. He began with the delightful news that the medication did just what it intended to and closed up our boy's PDA. He followed that by saying he was actually shocked by it since it was so big. Whew! (thanks for all the prayers...God is good) He followed that exciting news with, "but I still hear a murmur." (roller coaster goes up, roller coaster goes down) He explained that since the PDA was closed off and the flow was gone during this echo they were able to see more clearly and found a structural issue within Cooper's heart. He explained it like a water hose when you stick your finger over the spout and cause pressure it begins to shoot wildly. They measure that pressure and then decide on a course of action. In Cooper's case the pressure is at 20% and has led to the tried and true result of..."we'll wait and see." Basically we're waiting and hoping for this issue to resolve itself and we've been given a window of 3 weeks for that to happen. At that point we will do another echo and see where we stand. I didn't delve to far into what comes next because I'm sure of the answer (we'll find out when we get there) and also I just don't know if I can face it just yet. One step at a time.
It was a blow to hear but thankfully not a lingering punch that left me sobbing. Instead I faced the unknown with more hope and less worry. Something I'm striving for through this process. Just leaning on God for strength knowing His hands are on this therefore I should find peace in these troubled times. Worry won't add a single moment to my life...I repeat that quite often in my head all day.
Instead of lingering over the "what if's" I found myself smiling and playing with my daughter, surrounded by loving and amazing family members that traveled from miles away just to stand by our side during this fight. They have lost sleep and sacrificed to just show up for us and then have to leave a few short hours later. What peace and joy they have brought! Seeing Cooper steal their hearts was so warming and soul soothing for me. My boy is deeply loved and cared for by so many. Blessings were all over us today and we're so thankful!
Despite the love that lifted me through my day I still find myself a bit shaky and unable to spend the night at home. There is something so comforting about being by my boy's side, even if I'm not doing anything. Just being there to hear his whimper makes me feel like a mommy...I'm where I should be taking care of him and loving him. I know and trust the nurses with everything but it does this mommy's heart good to be able to react to his stress signals. Here's to an uneventful and soothing night followed by the light of a new and hopeful day.
Last night was a bit bumpy but mostly because Cooper just didn't seem to want mommy to leave his side (what a wonderfully beautiful problem to face). Sleep eluded me so the nurse and I decided to give Cooper a sponge bath at midnight. The bath was not only a relief to his body in the end, but also a very important bonding time for me. To know that I can care for my baby is HUGE for my well being and cleaning him and touching his skin gives me such a sense of purpose and love.
He was soothed and snuggled up afterward and we thought he'd sleep so soundly...little did we know that all he wanted was mommy's touch and his pacifier. I spent over 3 hours standing at his side and holding his paci in his mouth. Any attempt I'd make to lay down was shortly followed by his whimpers and cries until I dragged myself back to his bedside and watched his heart rate immediately go back down and settle into a slow rhythm and then he'd lull back to sleep. What a stinker. Around 5am he was tuckered out and finally gave into some solid sleep without me directly touching him.
We rested until about 7:30am when his room sprang to life. First came his chest x-ray which he's been having pretty much every morning to get a good look at his lungs. Next came the good news that his platelets had raised on their own and were at a nice level. Then we discovered that his calcium was a bit low so they changed his nutrient concoction and that had to be rehung and started right away. Next came his "cares" (which I get to do). Yet another new term for me...basically it's checking his vitals, changing his diapers, changing his positioning, and cleaning out his mouth if need be. This is my favorite time of the day (besides the days I get to hold him) because, again, it gives me the sense that I can care for my baby. It's such an amazing feeling to know that I'm at least playing a part in this situation. Sometimes being a NICU mom leaves you feeling so helpless that you begin to think being there doesn't really matter at all. When you get to do your part, as small as that part may be, it brings peace and self-worth in this uncontrollable time. Cares bring joy to my heart and a sense of purpose to my soul. I'm his mommy and he needs me! Following cares came his echo cardiogram. The tech performing the echo couldn't tell me anything but we're praying his PDA has closed from the first round of medication and that we can avoid more meds and surgery. Once the echo was done we discovered that his IV is no longer working so it needed to be removed. Cooper has an IV and a pick line (an iv that basically goes up through this leg and straight into his heart). His pick line serves as means for his nutrients that continually flow through him 20-24 hours a day and his IV typically serves during transfusions (blood is too thick to go into the pick line) and medications. IV's tend to have a shelf life and go bad where as the pick line can last months, and since his stay is foreseen to be quite long, the pick line was his best option. That all being said, his IV has gone bad (this is #3) and it's time to do another if need be.
After all that madness I find that's it's only 9am and it feels as if a whole day has passed. Hospital time is so different than real time. It's easy to get lost in. The seconds can feel like centuries but then suddenly 4 hours have passed and you don't know what happened. It's very surreal and hard to grasp but again...it's our new normal so I'm working on getting use to it.
A bit after 9am Dr. Becker, our cardiologist walked in to go over the echo results. He began with the delightful news that the medication did just what it intended to and closed up our boy's PDA. He followed that by saying he was actually shocked by it since it was so big. Whew! (thanks for all the prayers...God is good) He followed that exciting news with, "but I still hear a murmur." (roller coaster goes up, roller coaster goes down) He explained that since the PDA was closed off and the flow was gone during this echo they were able to see more clearly and found a structural issue within Cooper's heart. He explained it like a water hose when you stick your finger over the spout and cause pressure it begins to shoot wildly. They measure that pressure and then decide on a course of action. In Cooper's case the pressure is at 20% and has led to the tried and true result of..."we'll wait and see." Basically we're waiting and hoping for this issue to resolve itself and we've been given a window of 3 weeks for that to happen. At that point we will do another echo and see where we stand. I didn't delve to far into what comes next because I'm sure of the answer (we'll find out when we get there) and also I just don't know if I can face it just yet. One step at a time.
It was a blow to hear but thankfully not a lingering punch that left me sobbing. Instead I faced the unknown with more hope and less worry. Something I'm striving for through this process. Just leaning on God for strength knowing His hands are on this therefore I should find peace in these troubled times. Worry won't add a single moment to my life...I repeat that quite often in my head all day.
Instead of lingering over the "what if's" I found myself smiling and playing with my daughter, surrounded by loving and amazing family members that traveled from miles away just to stand by our side during this fight. They have lost sleep and sacrificed to just show up for us and then have to leave a few short hours later. What peace and joy they have brought! Seeing Cooper steal their hearts was so warming and soul soothing for me. My boy is deeply loved and cared for by so many. Blessings were all over us today and we're so thankful!
Despite the love that lifted me through my day I still find myself a bit shaky and unable to spend the night at home. There is something so comforting about being by my boy's side, even if I'm not doing anything. Just being there to hear his whimper makes me feel like a mommy...I'm where I should be taking care of him and loving him. I know and trust the nurses with everything but it does this mommy's heart good to be able to react to his stress signals. Here's to an uneventful and soothing night followed by the light of a new and hopeful day.
Be still my heart
Throughout the week it's been absolutely surreal that we have a baby. He feels so different that having a newborn. He comes with so many more instructions and limitations...wires and machines. He just doesn't feel real sometimes. Then one day he began to wake up a bit more. For the first time we saw his eyes all the way open and he felt real! It felt like we had a baby and it was the most amazing feeling! He was awake and looking at us, taking the world in! And the best part is that we caught it on video.
It's quite long so I trimmed it alot...guess we just didn't want it to end. His eyes begin to drop, cross, and get all sorts of silly toward the end but the beginning of the video just melts my heart. Enjoy!
It's quite long so I trimmed it alot...guess we just didn't want it to end. His eyes begin to drop, cross, and get all sorts of silly toward the end but the beginning of the video just melts my heart. Enjoy!
Big sister
There is no good time to have a NICU baby, but I will say it certainly would have been much more convenient to have one the first time around and not the second. How does a mommy choose between the two pieces of her heart? I ache when I'm at home and I ache when I'm at the hospital. It's so painful, but again, it's our new normal.
Thank God for the family that has surrounded us with supportive, love, comfort, and BABYSITTING through this time. I honestly don't know what we'd do without them! Despite mommy only being around about 2 hours a day (that she's awake at least) our Ellie girl has been smiling, playing, and as feisty as ever. Her resilient spirit makes this much easier than I thought possible. Don't get my wrong my stomach churns with guilt and sadness every time I have to leave her, but knowing that she's happy and joyfully unaware of the circumstances provides relief in the pain.
She doesn't understand and she won't remember but she is aware of a change. She talks about "baby Coop" often and knows he's no longer in mommy's tummy. Just a few days ago my incision was hurting a bit so I lifted my shirt to give it air and she happily pointed and began to say the typical "BABY COOP" when she saw my tummy and mid-word paused and starred in confusion. The wheels were turning and she was working everything out in her mind. Then she said, "Baby Coop out." She amazes us everyday! She is grasping something so complicated in her very simple way and I love it! She says things like, "I see baby Coop;" "Baby Coop's tiny;" and my favorite, "I love baby Coop!" That sweet girl is a wonderful big sister already and has yet to meet her little brother. I couldn't be prouder!
Thank God for the family that has surrounded us with supportive, love, comfort, and BABYSITTING through this time. I honestly don't know what we'd do without them! Despite mommy only being around about 2 hours a day (that she's awake at least) our Ellie girl has been smiling, playing, and as feisty as ever. Her resilient spirit makes this much easier than I thought possible. Don't get my wrong my stomach churns with guilt and sadness every time I have to leave her, but knowing that she's happy and joyfully unaware of the circumstances provides relief in the pain.
She doesn't understand and she won't remember but she is aware of a change. She talks about "baby Coop" often and knows he's no longer in mommy's tummy. Just a few days ago my incision was hurting a bit so I lifted my shirt to give it air and she happily pointed and began to say the typical "BABY COOP" when she saw my tummy and mid-word paused and starred in confusion. The wheels were turning and she was working everything out in her mind. Then she said, "Baby Coop out." She amazes us everyday! She is grasping something so complicated in her very simple way and I love it! She says things like, "I see baby Coop;" "Baby Coop's tiny;" and my favorite, "I love baby Coop!" That sweet girl is a wonderful big sister already and has yet to meet her little brother. I couldn't be prouder!
Happy 1 week birthday to our fighter!
Well I started this blog thinking I'd have plenty of time on my hands just sitting in hospital rooms waiting for our son to grow...turns out that there is no sitting or down time in the NICU while balancing life with a toddler at home. One week has passed since Cooper's arrival and it has been the longest, but somehow also the fastest week of my life. The seconds seem so long yet the days seem so short. Everyday has brought ups and downs and we're beginning to notice a very frustrating trend...lack of control!
Despite the very traumatic entrance Cooper had into this world I was as close to cloud 9 as must have been flooded with that mommy pride and adrenaline because somehow I was able to block out the real dangers lurking in our future. Our new reality had yet to set in. Don't get me wrong I was worried, I was broken, and I was fearful but I was oh so joyful that he was here and breathing. To find out just a few hours would have changed that fact, brought such hope. I spent the first 24 hours in a haze of half-reality hinged on faith and disbelief. Then, with the dawning of a new day came the opening of my eyes to my "new normal."
Suddenly we were in the midst of a new language that had our minds spinning and searching for meanings and understanding. We were lost and so overwhelmed. Every second I was able to spend face to face with a doctor was cherished and I wracked my brain to think of questions to keep them talking to me, yet my mind was blank. I tried so hard to make sure I was an advocate for my son; asking questions, pushing for answers, and speaking up for his tiny, frail, and helpless frame. I wanted so badly to keep probing for direction and control but found that the answers were always the same--"We'll wait and see. We're not sure. We're keeping a close eye on it and will go from there." No one in the NICU is in control. The doctors and nurses are caring for and treating their patients to the best of their abilities and I'm so thankful for their expertise and tender care but they are far from in control. There is no answer most of the time in my new world and that is a very big challenge to deal with when you watch a piece of your heart struggling to survive.
Narrowing down Cooper's issues is difficult since most of them are so sporadic and unexplained. Basically, at first, I thought we had a tiny baby that would just take time to grow and develop...turns out we have a sick little guy and no one knows why. We don't know what happened while inside my womb and we don't know why things are happening now. The up side of that is that here in the NICU he's being monitored 24 hours a day and in amazing hands. We have been able to pin point some things to attack and try to fix but any reason for these problems still eludes us.
The first problem that plagued our boy in his first hours was a severely low blood pressure which they treated with multiple boluses until the problem corrected. The boluses led to some major fluid weight gain and swelling that he had some trouble excreting so our guy was quite blue and puffy. I believe one nurse called him her sweet little smurf. After the low blood pressure was corrected we faced dropping platelet levels. These dropping levels left Cooper at risk of bleeding out which is very scary for a mommy and daddy to hear. Those low levels along with the swelling/edema issues and some strange pooling of fluid which appeared to be blood under his skin, led to an ultrasound of his abdomen and his head. The ultrasound showed fluid in all 4 quadrants of his abdomen but none in his head. The doctors couldn't tell if the fluid in his tummy was blood or normal but it was minimal so the plan has been to wait, watch, and hope it clears on it's own. After those issues we were hit with some good news...his oxygen levels were so good he was able to come off of his CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure)! They took it off and he was so alert and happy that whole day! His eyes were open and it was the first time he seemed like a real baby. But the elation was short lived. Within 24 hours began to show signs of respiratory distress and was put back onto his respirator. The day after that he was showing lots of signs of stress with low blood pressures, elevated heart rate running in the 190's continuously, fast breathing, and was incredibly lethargic. Besides being just plan sick that day the doctors also noticed a heart murmur. They called for an echo cardiogram and found that Coop has PDA (Patent Ductus Arteriosis) meaning that a duct in his heart that should have closed at birth is still open and pumping blood to the wrong places. Basically he was showing signs of heart failure. Clearing up the PDA can look different for each case. The first approach is to treat with medicine and the second option (if the first fails) is a pretty straight forward surgery. Cooper was given the medication Indocin every 12 hours for the past day and a half and we're now waiting for another echo in the morning to see if the first round of medication has closed/partially closed the PDA. If not we reassess and treat accordingly.
We began Cooper's 1 week birthday thinking that clearing up the PDA would really lead to a positive domino effect and hopefully our boy would begin to get healthy and just eat and grow until we got to take him home.So the day began with lots of hope and positivity--I don't even think I cried this morning-- now that's saying something at this point! But that sigh of relief was again quickly averted when during a routine diaper change our Cooper's heart rate went from the very healthy and calm 160's to 300! That's not a typo...300! Thankfully we were right here with him along with the nurse and occupational therapist and everyone sprung into action. The nurse raced for the doctor and I, of course panicked and was everything but screaming for my boy to be ok. The therapist directed me to touch him and speak soothingly to attempt to calm him. It was so hard and the tears streamed as I gasped in disbelief at the pounding of my tiny baby's heart under my fingers. Was he going to be ok? Was that tiny muscle going to explode (it certainly felt like it would)? How can his tiny body take this? I was an array of panic when the doctor came in. I quickly moved out of the way and into the waiting arms of my husband who was holding it together beautifully as I melted into a heap. Within seconds I looked up through the blur of my tears and saw his heart rate back at 160. I looked at the doctor in shock and bluntly said the first thing that came to mind..."What the hell just happened?!" He calmly explained that he stuck his finger down Cooper's mouth and gagged my son. He described it as his "reset" button. Apparently Cooper experienced what is known as an SVT (supraventricular tachycardia) when his heart began to beat wildly out of control. This type of episode isn't uncommon in our new world and we were told we shouldn't be too shocked to see it again. I'm just not sure I can handle that so I had a talk with him and sternly told him not to do it again...let's hope he listens. Shortly following the SVT the nurse noticed how shaken I was and insisted on me resting. She brought me warm blankets and tucked me in (God bless this woman...Stephanie you will always have a warm place in my heart) promising to not allow anyone to bother me. I fell into the blissful unaware state of sleep only to be suddenly woken by the alarming of Cooper's monitor once again. This time his heart rate at fallen clear off. I shot out of the bed and into the hall before I even knew what was happening. I was met by his nurse that quickly said, "He's ok." By the time we got back to his side it was over and his heart rate had reappeared. This time Cooper had experienced a Bradycardia attack which is also now a part of our daily reality. After this attack my nerves were shot and any chance of rest was out the window so Stephanie gave me a huge hug and said it was time to love on my boy. I got my sweet and cozy skin to skin time with my baby.
That time is magical and can't even be explained. Every time I have him in my arms I am reminded that this is how it should be. Not just that I should be able to hold and care for my baby on my own anytime I want, but that he should be WITH me, a part of me, inside and safe for 10 more weeks. I get angry and frustrated with my new normal. I feel so cheated out of the picture I had in my head. Ellie's pregnancy, labor,and delivery were all so perfectly blissful in every way. Yes, even labor was blissful, hard to believe but true. This time so much was yanked away from us and it's hard for me to swallow from time to time. I get mad for a bit and then realize the God is in this, therefore it won't be wasted, and it wasn't an accident. God is working good into this garbage dump or a reality.
There has been much darkness in these past 7 days but also SO MUCH light. The devotion, support, and love that you are all giving us is overwhelming! We feel so uplifted by every comment, like, and kind word. All the phone calls, texts, emails, and messages are not going unnoticed. You are all carrying us through this and have become and will continue to be part of our journey. Cooper is one blessed little boy to have so many people fighting for him. We are documenting and saving everything and look forward to sharing it all with him as he grows. You are a tremendous blessing to us and we love you!
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--Sorry these first 2 posts were so long. I had a tough time getting everything started in a timely fashion due to all the issues Cooper is facing so there was alot of information to jam into the first two entries. I'm hoping to be short and sweet for the ones to come, but can't promise anything. This blog is to pass along information but also to serve as a bit of therapy for me during this process.--
The first days
Despite the very traumatic entrance Cooper had into this world I was as close to cloud 9 as must have been flooded with that mommy pride and adrenaline because somehow I was able to block out the real dangers lurking in our future. Our new reality had yet to set in. Don't get me wrong I was worried, I was broken, and I was fearful but I was oh so joyful that he was here and breathing. To find out just a few hours would have changed that fact, brought such hope. I spent the first 24 hours in a haze of half-reality hinged on faith and disbelief. Then, with the dawning of a new day came the opening of my eyes to my "new normal."
Suddenly we were in the midst of a new language that had our minds spinning and searching for meanings and understanding. We were lost and so overwhelmed. Every second I was able to spend face to face with a doctor was cherished and I wracked my brain to think of questions to keep them talking to me, yet my mind was blank. I tried so hard to make sure I was an advocate for my son; asking questions, pushing for answers, and speaking up for his tiny, frail, and helpless frame. I wanted so badly to keep probing for direction and control but found that the answers were always the same--"We'll wait and see. We're not sure. We're keeping a close eye on it and will go from there." No one in the NICU is in control. The doctors and nurses are caring for and treating their patients to the best of their abilities and I'm so thankful for their expertise and tender care but they are far from in control. There is no answer most of the time in my new world and that is a very big challenge to deal with when you watch a piece of your heart struggling to survive.
Narrowing down Cooper's issues is difficult since most of them are so sporadic and unexplained. Basically, at first, I thought we had a tiny baby that would just take time to grow and develop...turns out we have a sick little guy and no one knows why. We don't know what happened while inside my womb and we don't know why things are happening now. The up side of that is that here in the NICU he's being monitored 24 hours a day and in amazing hands. We have been able to pin point some things to attack and try to fix but any reason for these problems still eludes us.
The first problem that plagued our boy in his first hours was a severely low blood pressure which they treated with multiple boluses until the problem corrected. The boluses led to some major fluid weight gain and swelling that he had some trouble excreting so our guy was quite blue and puffy. I believe one nurse called him her sweet little smurf. After the low blood pressure was corrected we faced dropping platelet levels. These dropping levels left Cooper at risk of bleeding out which is very scary for a mommy and daddy to hear. Those low levels along with the swelling/edema issues and some strange pooling of fluid which appeared to be blood under his skin, led to an ultrasound of his abdomen and his head. The ultrasound showed fluid in all 4 quadrants of his abdomen but none in his head. The doctors couldn't tell if the fluid in his tummy was blood or normal but it was minimal so the plan has been to wait, watch, and hope it clears on it's own. After those issues we were hit with some good news...his oxygen levels were so good he was able to come off of his CPAP (continuous positive airway pressure)! They took it off and he was so alert and happy that whole day! His eyes were open and it was the first time he seemed like a real baby. But the elation was short lived. Within 24 hours began to show signs of respiratory distress and was put back onto his respirator. The day after that he was showing lots of signs of stress with low blood pressures, elevated heart rate running in the 190's continuously, fast breathing, and was incredibly lethargic. Besides being just plan sick that day the doctors also noticed a heart murmur. They called for an echo cardiogram and found that Coop has PDA (Patent Ductus Arteriosis) meaning that a duct in his heart that should have closed at birth is still open and pumping blood to the wrong places. Basically he was showing signs of heart failure. Clearing up the PDA can look different for each case. The first approach is to treat with medicine and the second option (if the first fails) is a pretty straight forward surgery. Cooper was given the medication Indocin every 12 hours for the past day and a half and we're now waiting for another echo in the morning to see if the first round of medication has closed/partially closed the PDA. If not we reassess and treat accordingly.
We began Cooper's 1 week birthday thinking that clearing up the PDA would really lead to a positive domino effect and hopefully our boy would begin to get healthy and just eat and grow until we got to take him home.So the day began with lots of hope and positivity--I don't even think I cried this morning-- now that's saying something at this point! But that sigh of relief was again quickly averted when during a routine diaper change our Cooper's heart rate went from the very healthy and calm 160's to 300! That's not a typo...300! Thankfully we were right here with him along with the nurse and occupational therapist and everyone sprung into action. The nurse raced for the doctor and I, of course panicked and was everything but screaming for my boy to be ok. The therapist directed me to touch him and speak soothingly to attempt to calm him. It was so hard and the tears streamed as I gasped in disbelief at the pounding of my tiny baby's heart under my fingers. Was he going to be ok? Was that tiny muscle going to explode (it certainly felt like it would)? How can his tiny body take this? I was an array of panic when the doctor came in. I quickly moved out of the way and into the waiting arms of my husband who was holding it together beautifully as I melted into a heap. Within seconds I looked up through the blur of my tears and saw his heart rate back at 160. I looked at the doctor in shock and bluntly said the first thing that came to mind..."What the hell just happened?!" He calmly explained that he stuck his finger down Cooper's mouth and gagged my son. He described it as his "reset" button. Apparently Cooper experienced what is known as an SVT (supraventricular tachycardia) when his heart began to beat wildly out of control. This type of episode isn't uncommon in our new world and we were told we shouldn't be too shocked to see it again. I'm just not sure I can handle that so I had a talk with him and sternly told him not to do it again...let's hope he listens. Shortly following the SVT the nurse noticed how shaken I was and insisted on me resting. She brought me warm blankets and tucked me in (God bless this woman...Stephanie you will always have a warm place in my heart) promising to not allow anyone to bother me. I fell into the blissful unaware state of sleep only to be suddenly woken by the alarming of Cooper's monitor once again. This time his heart rate at fallen clear off. I shot out of the bed and into the hall before I even knew what was happening. I was met by his nurse that quickly said, "He's ok." By the time we got back to his side it was over and his heart rate had reappeared. This time Cooper had experienced a Bradycardia attack which is also now a part of our daily reality. After this attack my nerves were shot and any chance of rest was out the window so Stephanie gave me a huge hug and said it was time to love on my boy. I got my sweet and cozy skin to skin time with my baby.
That time is magical and can't even be explained. Every time I have him in my arms I am reminded that this is how it should be. Not just that I should be able to hold and care for my baby on my own anytime I want, but that he should be WITH me, a part of me, inside and safe for 10 more weeks. I get angry and frustrated with my new normal. I feel so cheated out of the picture I had in my head. Ellie's pregnancy, labor,and delivery were all so perfectly blissful in every way. Yes, even labor was blissful, hard to believe but true. This time so much was yanked away from us and it's hard for me to swallow from time to time. I get mad for a bit and then realize the God is in this, therefore it won't be wasted, and it wasn't an accident. God is working good into this garbage dump or a reality.
There has been much darkness in these past 7 days but also SO MUCH light. The devotion, support, and love that you are all giving us is overwhelming! We feel so uplifted by every comment, like, and kind word. All the phone calls, texts, emails, and messages are not going unnoticed. You are all carrying us through this and have become and will continue to be part of our journey. Cooper is one blessed little boy to have so many people fighting for him. We are documenting and saving everything and look forward to sharing it all with him as he grows. You are a tremendous blessing to us and we love you!
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The first days
Friday, October 26, 2012
The beginning...
Hello friends!
We're very new to this blog thing and have no clue what we're doing (so please go easy on us) but thought this may be the best way to keep our loved ones up to date on Cooper's journey and progress. Also, we're taking this opportunity to journal our feelings and emotions through it all so it may get a bit long winded...this is kind of therapy for me as I sit in the hospital for hours on end.
Let's start at the beginning...
MOMMIE'S STORY: Thursday was a day like most others for us...a silly toddler with messy hair eating breakfast as we talked about what the day had in store as a family. I had woken up with an urge to get the baby's stuff ready and we made plans to do it all over the weekend so that nesting mommy could calm down. Neil headed to work and Ellie and I began our day. After story time at the library and lunch Ellie went down for a nap and I sat down for a bit of a rest. I had been feeling a bit out of breath, shaky, and out of sorts for a few weeks so was taking full advantage of resting when it was an option. As I was laying on the couch snuggling with our pup Zeus I heard a voice inside of me (I'm convinced God was telling me what I needed to hear) say, "Your baby hasn't been moving..." I realized very quickly that something felt a little off. I began to focus on baby. I drank juice, laid on my side, and just waited. And waited. And waited. I picked up the phone to call my OB and felt a flip in my tummy. WHEW! After that I was a bit relieved. Until dinner time rolled around and I realized it had been another 3 hours since I had felt my little kicker move again. So the process of side laying and sugar in-take started again but this time I waited until 10pm when the tears and panic came. I called my OB and was sent to the hospital by a groggy doctor on call.
Upon arrival they found our bean's heartbeat (SIGH OF RELIEF) and then it was a waiting game. Baby still wasn't moving but his heart rate was decent. The doctor ordered an ultrasound and we found a very limp little baby. We tried everything to get him moving but nothing helped. The tears began again and a new plan unfolded. I was admitted to stay overnight and was shot with steroids in case the baby needed to be delivered (Let me just tell you that mommies that have to have steroid shots for their baby's lungs are showing their deep DEEP love for their baby by enduring it because HOLY MOLY did that hurt! Totally worth it though.) We would do another ultrasound at 7:30am and then reassess.
By this time it was 1am and Neil's only option was to wake our very spunky 20 month old and head to the hospital just in case. My mom started the 5 hour drive here to take Ellie back to bed and the hours slowly, SLOWLY ticked by. After 3 hours of no sleep and Ellie running through the hospital room pretending to dance with Cinderella, we decided it was best for her and Neil to go home until nana arrived. Neil came back just in time for a few minutes of laying together, crying, praying, and hoping.
They wheeled in a chair for me and off to the ultrasound we went. After about 10 minutes of seeing that same limp baby with just a slightly less impressive heartbeat the tech excused herself to give an update and was quickly followed back into the room by 3 women in scrubs and masks that began changing out my IV and telling me we were going to take the baby now. (I can't even type this without crying and shaking...scariest moment of my life). My OB walked in and gave me a huge hug, thank God for that! I was shaking, crying, and I'm sure white as a sheet. Neil was looking much the same and had been shoved back into the corner at this point during the process. I began asking about being awake during surgery and there was a bit of silence. My doctor got an update on baby's stats and then promised to do all she could to make sure I could stay awake. Neil was told that I'd be awake so he was whisked to a room to wait to be escorted into surgery with me. Next thing I know I'm put in a wheel chair and pushed down a hall to a door. When the doors swing open there were about 30 people in scrubs and masks waiting for us. Talk about intimidating! And this is all happening to a person that has never had any surgery, general anesthesia, really anything more invasive than an epidural and IV. They had me up on the table in no time and then they hit me with the news that they couldn't keep me awake. After lots of hugs from nurses and reassuring I laid back and was put to sleep. My final thought before being knocked out was, "God I know you have us in your hands. Save us. Save my baby." God is so good! He did just that!
What seemed like 1 second later I woke up in lots of pain and immediately asked,"Did I have a boy or a girl?" BOY! We had our Cooper James! Then came the more important questions.."Did he cry? Is he ok? Is he stable?" Alot of my questions were sidestepped and avoided. The nurses were as sweet as could possibly be and said he was stable and safe right now as far as they knew. No one could tell me if he had cried. I just laid with my eyes closed and prayed, thanking God for getting us both through delivery safely; praying for miracles, strength, and wisdom for the hours, days, weeks, and months to come. I then opened my eyes to the OB that performed my surgery and the OB that sent me into the hospital. They both thanked me for saving my baby's life. Turns out that little Cooper wouldn't have made it through the day in the womb...so thankful for God's voice and direction! Right after talking with them I began to pray again only to be woken my my pastor's hand on my arm, again THANK YOU GOD! We had a moment of prayer and talked about my dream boy that I hadn't met yet, then in walked my loving husband. Neil was quite stunned and lost. He filled me in on our Cooper and we waited to be cleared to head up for our first moment all together.
Three hours after Cooper's birth I was wheeled in on a transport bed with Neil at my side to meet my son...my sweet, limp, tiny, little Cooper. His body was so frail and floppy and he had tubes and wires coming from everyplace but he was oh so beautiful! There was my boy. Living, breathing, and laying outside of my body 10 weeks before he should have been. Life had changed in a moment and our journey had begun...
DADDY'S STORY: After putting Ellie back to sleep and meeting Denise, I rushed back as quickly as possible downtown to get back in time for the ultrasound. Lots of questions and fears going through my mind. When I got back up to the room we were able to spend a few minutes before we were told the tech had arrived and was preparing for us. As we walked down the hall to the ultrasound room I remember thinking, "hopefully there is some good news this time." While in the room we could see that the baby had a heartbeat but wasn't moving and all attempts to get him to move weren't working. As the tech took measurements and looked at various different parts, things seemed to settle on the cord and an intense eye could diagnose that something may be wrong. It had already been a few minutes when the tech excused herself to give the team an update saying she's be right back. When she came back in is when the blur began for me as she was not alone. At that point we found out the baby was going to come out right away. The OB was very nice to tell us the urgency without trying to alarm us (yeah right). More nurses came in to prep Tracie and I stepped back to allow them space. Suddenly the room was full of doctors and nurses as Tracie and I exchanged looks knowing we were in good hands but afraid because things had just taken off like a rocket. I honestly can't tell you how much time passed, but as Tracie was exiting the room I was told to go gather our things from the observation room and a nurse would escort me. After I gathered everything I would take them down to the c-section room. As I was dropped in the c-section waiting room the nurse told me she would go get me a gown to join Tracie in surgery. While waiting I took the opportunity to update a few people on the situation. Then a nurse approached me and said to follow her, as we were walking toward big metal doors she leaned in and said, "Do you want to know what it was?" At this point I didn't know what she was talking about and stuttered, not knowing what was happening. When it all caught up to me I stumbled out a shaky "yeah," and she said, "It's a boy!" Then she directed me to sit in a chair at the end of the hallway. As I sat I passed along more updates on the news that I HAVE A BABY BOY! I was feeling happy and excited but also afraid and confused. When the door opened the doctor greeted me and showed me the baby. I was overwhelmed with all the medical wording he was spouting and about being completely left out of where Tracie was and what was happening to her. After he gave me the update on Cooper I was escorted to the elevator with the nurses and rode to level 4...the NICU. Once the baby arrived I basically stood back and let all the nurses do their diagnostics and hook up the MANY machines that will keep our boy growing and safe for the weeks/months to come. It was alot to digest and I just stood in silence through the madness of the moment. They told me I could finally see Tracie in an hour and I just stood in shock listening to the noises around me until one voice rang above the others saying "your wife is asking for you."
I walked into Tracie's recovery room to find her groggy and in pain but anxious to learn about our baby boy. We had a few minutes to chat and I tried my best to fill her in despite the overwhelming amounts of information I had been trying to soak in minutes before. We talked in the C-Section recovery room until they strapped Tracie to the transport bed and we were brought to meet our Cooper, together. I was so happy to see Tracie's face as she looked at our boy for the first time and touched his little body. It was so hard to see all his tubes and wires but we were so happy to just have him with us.
We're very new to this blog thing and have no clue what we're doing (so please go easy on us) but thought this may be the best way to keep our loved ones up to date on Cooper's journey and progress. Also, we're taking this opportunity to journal our feelings and emotions through it all so it may get a bit long winded...this is kind of therapy for me as I sit in the hospital for hours on end.
Let's start at the beginning...
MOMMIE'S STORY: Thursday was a day like most others for us...a silly toddler with messy hair eating breakfast as we talked about what the day had in store as a family. I had woken up with an urge to get the baby's stuff ready and we made plans to do it all over the weekend so that nesting mommy could calm down. Neil headed to work and Ellie and I began our day. After story time at the library and lunch Ellie went down for a nap and I sat down for a bit of a rest. I had been feeling a bit out of breath, shaky, and out of sorts for a few weeks so was taking full advantage of resting when it was an option. As I was laying on the couch snuggling with our pup Zeus I heard a voice inside of me (I'm convinced God was telling me what I needed to hear) say, "Your baby hasn't been moving..." I realized very quickly that something felt a little off. I began to focus on baby. I drank juice, laid on my side, and just waited. And waited. And waited. I picked up the phone to call my OB and felt a flip in my tummy. WHEW! After that I was a bit relieved. Until dinner time rolled around and I realized it had been another 3 hours since I had felt my little kicker move again. So the process of side laying and sugar in-take started again but this time I waited until 10pm when the tears and panic came. I called my OB and was sent to the hospital by a groggy doctor on call.
Upon arrival they found our bean's heartbeat (SIGH OF RELIEF) and then it was a waiting game. Baby still wasn't moving but his heart rate was decent. The doctor ordered an ultrasound and we found a very limp little baby. We tried everything to get him moving but nothing helped. The tears began again and a new plan unfolded. I was admitted to stay overnight and was shot with steroids in case the baby needed to be delivered (Let me just tell you that mommies that have to have steroid shots for their baby's lungs are showing their deep DEEP love for their baby by enduring it because HOLY MOLY did that hurt! Totally worth it though.) We would do another ultrasound at 7:30am and then reassess.
By this time it was 1am and Neil's only option was to wake our very spunky 20 month old and head to the hospital just in case. My mom started the 5 hour drive here to take Ellie back to bed and the hours slowly, SLOWLY ticked by. After 3 hours of no sleep and Ellie running through the hospital room pretending to dance with Cinderella, we decided it was best for her and Neil to go home until nana arrived. Neil came back just in time for a few minutes of laying together, crying, praying, and hoping.
They wheeled in a chair for me and off to the ultrasound we went. After about 10 minutes of seeing that same limp baby with just a slightly less impressive heartbeat the tech excused herself to give an update and was quickly followed back into the room by 3 women in scrubs and masks that began changing out my IV and telling me we were going to take the baby now. (I can't even type this without crying and shaking...scariest moment of my life). My OB walked in and gave me a huge hug, thank God for that! I was shaking, crying, and I'm sure white as a sheet. Neil was looking much the same and had been shoved back into the corner at this point during the process. I began asking about being awake during surgery and there was a bit of silence. My doctor got an update on baby's stats and then promised to do all she could to make sure I could stay awake. Neil was told that I'd be awake so he was whisked to a room to wait to be escorted into surgery with me. Next thing I know I'm put in a wheel chair and pushed down a hall to a door. When the doors swing open there were about 30 people in scrubs and masks waiting for us. Talk about intimidating! And this is all happening to a person that has never had any surgery, general anesthesia, really anything more invasive than an epidural and IV. They had me up on the table in no time and then they hit me with the news that they couldn't keep me awake. After lots of hugs from nurses and reassuring I laid back and was put to sleep. My final thought before being knocked out was, "God I know you have us in your hands. Save us. Save my baby." God is so good! He did just that!
What seemed like 1 second later I woke up in lots of pain and immediately asked,"Did I have a boy or a girl?" BOY! We had our Cooper James! Then came the more important questions.."Did he cry? Is he ok? Is he stable?" Alot of my questions were sidestepped and avoided. The nurses were as sweet as could possibly be and said he was stable and safe right now as far as they knew. No one could tell me if he had cried. I just laid with my eyes closed and prayed, thanking God for getting us both through delivery safely; praying for miracles, strength, and wisdom for the hours, days, weeks, and months to come. I then opened my eyes to the OB that performed my surgery and the OB that sent me into the hospital. They both thanked me for saving my baby's life. Turns out that little Cooper wouldn't have made it through the day in the womb...so thankful for God's voice and direction! Right after talking with them I began to pray again only to be woken my my pastor's hand on my arm, again THANK YOU GOD! We had a moment of prayer and talked about my dream boy that I hadn't met yet, then in walked my loving husband. Neil was quite stunned and lost. He filled me in on our Cooper and we waited to be cleared to head up for our first moment all together.
Three hours after Cooper's birth I was wheeled in on a transport bed with Neil at my side to meet my son...my sweet, limp, tiny, little Cooper. His body was so frail and floppy and he had tubes and wires coming from everyplace but he was oh so beautiful! There was my boy. Living, breathing, and laying outside of my body 10 weeks before he should have been. Life had changed in a moment and our journey had begun...
DADDY'S STORY: After putting Ellie back to sleep and meeting Denise, I rushed back as quickly as possible downtown to get back in time for the ultrasound. Lots of questions and fears going through my mind. When I got back up to the room we were able to spend a few minutes before we were told the tech had arrived and was preparing for us. As we walked down the hall to the ultrasound room I remember thinking, "hopefully there is some good news this time." While in the room we could see that the baby had a heartbeat but wasn't moving and all attempts to get him to move weren't working. As the tech took measurements and looked at various different parts, things seemed to settle on the cord and an intense eye could diagnose that something may be wrong. It had already been a few minutes when the tech excused herself to give the team an update saying she's be right back. When she came back in is when the blur began for me as she was not alone. At that point we found out the baby was going to come out right away. The OB was very nice to tell us the urgency without trying to alarm us (yeah right). More nurses came in to prep Tracie and I stepped back to allow them space. Suddenly the room was full of doctors and nurses as Tracie and I exchanged looks knowing we were in good hands but afraid because things had just taken off like a rocket. I honestly can't tell you how much time passed, but as Tracie was exiting the room I was told to go gather our things from the observation room and a nurse would escort me. After I gathered everything I would take them down to the c-section room. As I was dropped in the c-section waiting room the nurse told me she would go get me a gown to join Tracie in surgery. While waiting I took the opportunity to update a few people on the situation. Then a nurse approached me and said to follow her, as we were walking toward big metal doors she leaned in and said, "Do you want to know what it was?" At this point I didn't know what she was talking about and stuttered, not knowing what was happening. When it all caught up to me I stumbled out a shaky "yeah," and she said, "It's a boy!" Then she directed me to sit in a chair at the end of the hallway. As I sat I passed along more updates on the news that I HAVE A BABY BOY! I was feeling happy and excited but also afraid and confused. When the door opened the doctor greeted me and showed me the baby. I was overwhelmed with all the medical wording he was spouting and about being completely left out of where Tracie was and what was happening to her. After he gave me the update on Cooper I was escorted to the elevator with the nurses and rode to level 4...the NICU. Once the baby arrived I basically stood back and let all the nurses do their diagnostics and hook up the MANY machines that will keep our boy growing and safe for the weeks/months to come. It was alot to digest and I just stood in silence through the madness of the moment. They told me I could finally see Tracie in an hour and I just stood in shock listening to the noises around me until one voice rang above the others saying "your wife is asking for you."
I walked into Tracie's recovery room to find her groggy and in pain but anxious to learn about our baby boy. We had a few minutes to chat and I tried my best to fill her in despite the overwhelming amounts of information I had been trying to soak in minutes before. We talked in the C-Section recovery room until they strapped Tracie to the transport bed and we were brought to meet our Cooper, together. I was so happy to see Tracie's face as she looked at our boy for the first time and touched his little body. It was so hard to see all his tubes and wires but we were so happy to just have him with us.
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