Kids

…Continued from Part 1 of our NICU stay

When we got the results from the first round of blood work, we were relieved to find out that Littlest Buddy’s bilirubin levels had dropped from 22 that morning to 16 upon NICU admittance in the early evening. That meant that his body was starting to work to bring it down. We had also put him in a sunny window that morning and were feeding him every 2 to 2.5 hours, even at night, as recommended by our doctor. Thankfully, his levels had never gotten high enough for the neonatologist to be worried about brain damage or sepsis.

The NICU continued blue light therapy through the night but decreased the number of light units. By the next morning (after 12 hours of light therapy), the level had dropped to 12.7. The neonatologist removed all the lights and IVs and wrapped Littlest Buddy in a blue light blanket. At that point, we were able to take him to our room. We were asked to stayed there, with him wrapped in the blue light blanket, until the following morning, just to make sure the bilirubin level didn’t rebound.

Mr. Handsome went home to sleep the second night so that he would be well rested to return to work the following morning. It was a really important day for him to be at the office, so we both agreed that he should go. It was tough to watch him leave, but my mother-in-law came to help overnight, so I wasn’t ever alone. The nurses continued to check in on us and were very helpful with anything we needed.

Our stay in the hospital was a total of 36 hours. We had Littlest Buddy’s heel pricked 24 hours after returning home, and the level was back at 16, so we were concerned that it would continue to climb and we would be sent back to the NICU. At that point, I called one of the NICU nurses and chatted about how best to avoid re-admittance. She was so kind to take the time to talk, even though we weren’t patients at the moment.

We put Littlest Buddy in the window (in just a diaper, but with a heater for warmth) for a couple hours. It was cloudy, but the nurse said it was worth a try. I also gave him some liquid baby vitamin D (a tip I found online). I sure wish someone had suggested that sooner so I could have started it earlier.

We did a re-test 24 hours after the last one, and the level was back down to 12.2, so our doctor gave us the all clear! It still took a few weeks for the orange tint of Littlest Buddy’s skin to fade, but the doctor said that was to be expected.

It was a whirlwind first week, but the Lord provided for us, with strength (spiritual, physical, and emotional), and wonderful family members to care for Little Buddy.

That concludes our birth story. Thank you for reading!

…Continued from Part 4 of my birth story

We spent about 20 hours in the hospital after the birth, and we had a great experience, thanks to our wonderful healthcare workers. My epidural must have been stronger this time because it took several hours for the feeling in my legs to return. It also took longer for all my various pains to go away, compared to my first birth. Nursing cramps were intense enough that I needed Advil and Tylenol for a couple weeks. I also experienced lower back pain that lasted almost as long. That was a new symptom that I didn’t have last time.

The most surprising post-partum symptom was the chills. The first ones came on towards the end of our hospital stay. While standing up for a few minutes, I suddenly felt freezing, started shivering like crazy, and had to wrap up in a thick layer of blankets to make the chills go away. I was concerned, but the nurse assured us that it was related to hormone swings, and she said it was harmless as long as I didn’t have a fever. The second spell happened a few days later, while we were at home.

When the little guy was three or four days old, I became worried about the worsening orange tint to his skin. Little Buddy also struggled with jaundice and had overnight blue light therapy in the hospital at two days old.

Our doctor checked the baby’s bilirubin levels, and they were high but not dangerously high. But at five days old, they had increased. He called us at dinnertime and directed us to rush to the NICU for direct admission. He had spoken to the neonatologist and had arranged everything.

Newborn jaundice is usually harmless, but if the levels get high enough, there is a chance of brain damage and sepsis, so standard of care is to do blue light therapy before the levels become too high. In rare cases, high bilirubin levels can be caused by underlying conditions, so extensive blood work must always be drawn. Still, the fact that we were told to drop everything and go, and the fact that the doctor greeted us the moment we we walked through the NICU doors, was concerning.

The nurses and doctor were all so kind, not to mention extremely understanding of our emotions. While it was difficult being in the NICU, it was a surprisingly calming atmosphere. We were given a room down the hall, and one of the nurses encouraged us to go get settled while they inserted the IVs. The room was a bit outdated, but it was very comfortable, complete with a TV, microwave, fridge, and queen-sized bed.

When we returned a short while later, we were shown how to “gown-up” and scrub our hands with medical-grade soap and sponges. We passed a few fully enclosed incubators where tiny, premature babies slept. The nurse told us that they had about 45 babies , and while they didn’t have any one-pounders on that day, there were some two-pounders. My heart went out to those parents!

When we entered our baby’s room, he was sleeping peacefully, sprawled out under five blue lights. The neonatologist informed us that he had the maximum “dosage” going, in order to bring the bilirubin levels down quickly. It was already 8pm, and the kitchen was closed, so Mr. Handsome ran out to grab food. My favorite Italian restaurant just happened to be a short distance away, so we had a good meal. I was so starving that I inhaled my chicken fettuccine Alfredo in under four minutes.

Blood work had been drawn and send in for processing, so we sat back and waited for the results.

…..Continued from Part 3

I was dilated to 10 cm, and it was time to push. The midwife returned, and the supplies was brought in. Everything was going so well, until a few minutes in. After a few pushes, the baby’s heart rate started dropping.

The midwife told us that a drop in the heart rate was normal at the very end, but when she instructed the nurse to call the hospitalist, I could sense that our time was limited. I asked if she was preparing for a C-section. “It’s just a precaution,” she replied. “I really think you can do this, but you have to push really hard.”

I’m not sure what was actually going through her mind, but I appreciated her positive attitude. And even if she didn’t have much faith in my ability to deliver naturally, I’m grateful that she didn’t advertise it. Can you imagine what would happen if she had the habit of telling laboring moms what was really going on in those final minutes? It’s would be almost certain to end in panic and C-section if a mom were told. “There’s about an 80% chance that you’re going to be cut open in a few minutes, but give it one final try, and we’ll see what happens.”

After a couple of very hard pushes, the baby was born. The total “push” time was less than 10 minutes, compared to over an hour with my first baby. I found out later that the midwife had made a tiny cut to get him out quickly, and I was grateful for her quick decision making. I was also grateful that she didn’t tell me as it was happening.

With my first birth, the baby was placed on my chest immediately after delivery, but that didn’t happen this time. I heard the nurse say, “Do I need to push the button?” And the midwife responded, “Yes.” I watched the nurse run to the wall and push a button labeled ‘CODE BLUE.’ That’s when I knew something was wrong.

A team of NICU specialists flooded the room. They must have been told to wait in the hallway because they were there in a flash. As our baby was whisked off to the warming tray in the corner, I saw that his face was dark blue. He wasn’t crying…or breathing at all.

I burst into tears as I realized what was happening. It was truly the most terrifying moment of my life. Mr. Handsome stood beside me and stroked my head as the team in the corner worked on our son. He seemed very calm, so I asked him later if he was scared when he saw the baby’s dark blue face, expecting him to say that he knew the whole time that everything was going to end well. But he admitted that while he appeared calm on the outside, inside he was panicking.

The baby made his first cry a minute later. That doesn’t sound like a long time, but to us, it felt like an eternity. And when you consider that the average baby cries within 10 seconds of delivery, one minute is a very long time. It was still a very “wet cry” and did not sound good. The NICU nurses continued sucking fluid out of his lungs for almost 10 minutes. It was difficult to have to wait so long to meet our son.

When they brought him over and laid him on my chest for the first time, I was so relieved. One of the nurses explained what had happened. The cord had been wrapped around his neck and had tightened during delivery, thus restricting blood flow. His initial Apgar score, which measures how well a baby tolerated the birthing process, was 1/10. But she assured me that because he scored a 9/10 a minute later, there wouldn’t be any lasting effects from his lack of oxygen.

To Be Continued…

…Continued from Part 1

In the last month of my pregnancy, there were several days when the baby didn’t move as much as he had been moving up until that point. It was usually only one day at a time, and then the next day he was more active. As time went on, the low movement days became more and more frequent. I was really looking forward to holding my baby in my arms and being done with the concerns of pregnancy.

Just like with my first pregnancy, my blood pressure started creeping up. At my 38.5-week appointment, it was high enough that the midwife said she could justify doing an immediate induction. But she said it wasn’t dangerously high, so I could alternatively choose to draw preeclampsia labs, which would check on the condition of my liver and kidneys. I opted to do the blood work, as the results would be available the following morning.

Both Mr. Handsome and Little Buddy were with me at that appointment, which helped put me at ease. As we left the office, the midwife told me that if at any point I developed preeclampsia symptoms or started feeling overly stressed about the situation, all I needed to do was call her and she would schedule the induction.

That afternoon, we spent a lot of time in prayer. Before dinnertime, I started feeling like it was time to get induced. I ignored the feeling at first, convinced that it was just my mind saying it was tired of dealing with pregnancy, but the feeling became stronger with each passing minute. I was also experiencing some slight vision changes, which is a symptom of preeclampsia, so that was concerning.

My concerns about the baby’s movement had dramatically increased over the past few days. The day before, I had hardly felt him, and at one point in the evening, it took 40 minutes of gently rubbing and poking at him to get him to move at all. That was a huge red flag because up until that point, he had always moved, immediately, every time he was at all poked or prodded.

After we ate, I called the midwife and told her I was ready to be induced. She was on board with the decision and told me to meet her at the hospital at 1:00am. That sounds like a strange time for a medical appointment, but when you consider that hospitals are open around the clock, it’s not so odd. When I hung up the phone, I immediately felt at peace. Until that moment, I had been feeling quite stressed out and on edge. That peace confirmed to me that I had made the right decision. I thanked God for his incredible guidance.

We put Little Buddy to bed and got everything ready to go, but it was only 8:30pm. My house wasn’t dirty, but cleaning is a de-stresser and a distraction for me, and I wanted to avoid allowing my mind to think about labor and delivery, so I went at it. Within an hour, I had the house vacuumed, the kitchen spotless, and the bathrooms sparkling. Then I took a long shower, and both Mr. Handsome and I went to sleep, setting an alarm for midnight.

We are so thankful to have our baby boy safely in our arms, and we look forward to watching our sons grow up together. They are three years apart in age.

Many of you know that we lost two babies in 2020, one at six weeks in July and a baby girl at 11 weeks in November. Due to some new health struggles, we were uncertain whether I would be able to successfully carry another pregnancy to term. When I found out last spring that I was expecting, we were nervous. We told our families and close friends so they could pray for us, but we opted not to talk much about the pregnancy for the first few months, in case it ended in miscarriage.

I had an ultrasound at eight weeks, and everything with the baby looked great, but they found a small cyst and hemorrhage. They told me there was no reason to worry unless it wasn’t gone by 20 weeks, but of course it was impossible to completely put it out of my mind for those three months.

I had a few other health issues early in my pregnancy that ended up being resolved, but they caused quite a bit of concern and a handful of appointments with two types of specialists. It was a busy time with all the medical visits, and it was especially hard to have had two losses. It’s just something that’s always at the back of your mind. I spent a lot of time in prayer, and I learned to trust God in deeper ways than ever before.

My nurse midwives were wonderful, and they knew that the first half of the pregnancy, before I was able to feel movement, would be difficult. Before I mentioned anything, they told me that I was welcome to come in for heartbeat checks with the doppler any time I was feeling nervous. I took them up on that two or three times between my monthly appointments.

After the 20-week ultrasound, we started letting ourselves get excited about the baby. I had a couple more health concerns in the second half of the pregnancy, and it was noticeably more difficult on my body than my first.

To Be Continued…

On the post about our minivan, one of my readers, who lives in Finland, commented and said that she was happy to see that we still keep Little Buddy rear-facing in his car seat. She explained to me that in Sweden, parents typically keep their children rear-facing until age four, and sometimes longer.

From what I understand, there is no Swedish law preventing kids from being flipped around before age four. Swedes just know that rear-facing is safer.

In recent years, there has been a push in the United States to encourage parents to keep their kids rear-facing for as long as their car seats will allow. While some seats are only rated for rear-facing up to 35 or 40 pounds, others can go up to 50.

Little Buddy is still rear-facing, even thought he is two, and I like the idea of waiting until he hits the rear-facing weight limit on his seat before flipping him.

With all of this considered, I thought I would pose a discussion question: When did those of you who are parents or caregivers switch your children from rear to forward-facing?

One of my (Mr. Handsome’s) favorite childhood memories was making snow ice cream. Sledding, snow angels, and snow fights were all fun, but the real reward was the delicious dessert at the end. You can treat snow ice cream like regular ice cream and add any flavor (chocolate, vanilla, strawberry, or anything else that you heart desires). But to me there is nothing better than simple maple syrup. I think it’s because I can imagine myself gathering sap in the woods in the freezing cold, boiling it down, and throwing it on some snow.

This year I had the special opportunity of sharing snow ice cream with Little Buddy. Ellie has worked hard to limit his sugar, but he recently discovered ice cream and learned how delicious it is. So as soon as he heard Daddy mention snow ice cream, he became super excited and shouted, “Ice Caweeeem!!!”

He loved it. Of course it didn’t take long for him to realize that what made it so delicious was the maple syrup. He kept asking for “morie dat,” as he pointed to the syrup container. He also seemed to think that my spoon was the only one that made the snow ice cream taste good, and he insisted on using my spoon instead of his. Then after we switched spoons, he changed his mind and decided he wanted his old spoon back. So we continually switched back and forth.

Have you ever tried snow ice cream? What are your favorite toppings?