One Week Old

Short update because my brain is hardly working anymore...

Hard to believe it's been a week. It's definitely getting harder (to be expected) having my babies separated. When I'm with baby Dash, I miss Ellie, and when I'm home, I miss Dash. I slept at the hospital last night, and while I'm so glad to have the opportunity to room in with him, I missed Ellie and Peter fiercely. Since we've been married, Peter and I have spent probably 3 or 4 nights away from each other, and this was my second night separated from Ellie. But - Dash needs me right now, and learning to eat is our biggest priority so we can get out of the NICU.

He's doing great with that as well. When he's wide awake, he'll take quite a bit - even a full feed on occasion. When he's sleepy, not so much. We put him in clothes today, and he was quite... dashing. :)

Other than the eating thing, everything else looks great. Respirations are great, and he's maintaining his body temp quite well. People ask when he's coming home, and while we certainly don't know for sure, we're hoping a week or less from now. At least these days pass quickly...

AND, I'm off to the NICU. Again. Sleep tight.

Surprise! Special Delivery, part II.

First, your daily Dash update: he's doing marvelously today and I'm starting to sense we'll be going home sooner than we even anticipated. He started really nursing this morning, and at his first feed, he took 40 grams (around 1 1/2 oz), which is just shy of what they consider to be a "full feeding" (55 grams). The nurse was literally blown away, and I could hear her telling the other nurses in the hall. Their reactions were gold, and made me super proud of my boy. While this may have surprised them, it really didn't surprise us at all - he's going to be an eating champ (uh - 6 lb 7 oz 5 weeks early? Yeah, he's going to know how to eat). We've been able to camp out at the hospital most of the day, which has been a luxury, and I've finally gotten rid of the plugged ducts which have been plaguing me all week. A really great day for all.

AND, Eleanor sort of fell in love with her baby brother today. She got to touch him and look at him up close and personal, and offer him all sorts of toys and snacks and whatnot. Adorable.

Back to Dash's birth story though.

It was around 8:30pm when my midwife started the pitocin. While I really didn't want to go down this path and was reluctant to accept it, it was obviously the right decision, as my water had broken nearly 19 hours earlier and I still wasn't in labor despite all the tricks we'd pulled. The staff was very respectful of my reluctance and really gave me a long time to come to terms with it, which I appreciate so much. We figured that we'd get things going right away with the pit, and so while we waited, we (me, Peter, my sister, Kelli, my mom, aunt and dad) played a hilarious pictionary-esq type of game. It was a great distraction and left us howling with laughter. Within an hour, my contractions were so intense that I had to bow out of the game. Eventually, my parents and aunt left the room and we settled in to get things going.

Laboring on pitocin is intense. I watched the contractions on the monitor, and they were LONG and their peaks lasted nearly the length of the entire contraction (as opposed to a natural contraction where you slowly ramp up to the peak and then slowly ease off). I was on a very low dose, so I can only imagine what it must be like to be on a high dose. Those suckers hurt like heck.

I labored in bed. I labored on the ball. I labored in the tub. I labored back in bed. I labored face down on a giant bean bag chair. One or two at a time people started falling asleep. I was so sure I was close to the end, but the nurse kept (slowly) turning up the pitocin and my midwife told me she guessed I was at a 3 or 4. I was positive she was wrong, but continued on. Eventually, the contractions got so intense that I was literally collapsing with exhaustion into a deep sleep in between every contraction. They seized my body and shook it like a leaf.

I've heard stories of women who become fixated on certain objects during labor. For me, I wanted to hold onto a barf bucket. I would not let it go, and every time someone tried to take it away from me, I got seriously pissed off. I was certain I was going to throw up (I didn't) and apparently took comfort in the pale yellow hospital bucket. I still have it, and now wash pump parts in it...

Around 2:30, I told Peter I couldn't do it anymore and needed an epidural. He told me that it wasn't an option (I told him to say this...), so on I went. My midwife checked me again, and told me that I was a 4cm, 80% effaced, and -2 station.

That meant in 25 hours, I had progressed 2 cm. So much for quick. Technically, 4 cm isn't even active labor yet. We still assumed I would go fast once I turned into active labor, but it was SO disheartening to hear I wasn't even there, despite incredibly regular and painful pitocin contractions. Further, once I got to a 4, she was able to determine that the baby was Left Occiput Transverse (facing my left hip). This was more than likely the reason I hadn't progressed all day - baby was kind of wedged in the wrong position. Come to find out, he also likely had his hand next to his head the whole time.

Knowing this, we were able to change our game plan. We got me situated on my side/almost tummy in bed, and the plan was to labor for 30 minutes on one side, then switch sides and go 30 on the other. I declared my desire for an epidural and someone (the nurse perhaps?) told me that they'd let me decide if I really wanted it in an hour. Okay then - I labored on. After 30 minutes, I switched sides (also after finding out that the umbilical cord was around his neck, causing decelerations in his heart rate. Mentally I promised myself that if I still hadn't made progress by the time the hour or so was up, I was going to seriously ask for the epidural (despite really truly not wanting one). In my head, if I was still at a 4 after 26 hours, they'd be cranking up the pitocin to a level which I wouldn't be able to handle. OR, I'd be headed for a C-Section. Either way, there would have to be pain relief.

I told myself this as each contraction seized my body. And I told my baby out loud, over and over, "low, low, low." And after just about 30 minutes, I felt a giant corkscrew like motion and a drop - just like that.

I called the midwife to check on me (it was 3:30), and she immediately told me that I was at 8cm and 100% - meaning in that single movement I felt, I had instantly dilated. She then told me that as soon as I needed to push, I should (as I'd be at 10 any moment). Someone woke up Peter (he'd been given permission to take a nap while my sister(s) took over, AND had managed to sleep through transition!) and I waited a couple more contractions and then the familiar feeling of my body bearing down without my brain directing it began.

I bore down through one contraction and another and a third. The third (I believe) he crowned, and then he was out. Just like that - 7 minutes of pushing. She put his warm body against my chest and Peter declared that he was, in fact, a HE. This moment will be seared into my memory forever - the look on the faces in the room, the joy. It's hard to imagine the birth of your second being as impactful as the birth of your first, but it was.

He was pretty blue, and obviously retracting quite a bit, so he was handed to the NICU team which was on standby while I delivered the placenta, etc. Soon, he was taken upstairs (we'd been prepared that this would happen) and Peter went with him.

All in all, I was in the "early" stages of labor for 26 hours, followed by instant dilation from 4-8, followed by 7 minutes of pushing. Everyone had been right - once I turned into active labor, I'd go fast (I don't think anyone thought that it would be instantaneous though!). Even better - the high I felt was like none I'd ever felt. I don't think I truly felt the hormonal rush that I've read so much about after Ellie's birth, but after Dash's, I was floating. I felt so good, I asked to be discharged as soon as I could, and even managed a quick trip to the grocery store later that evening. Dash's birth was much more complicated than we thought it would be, took much longer and was 5 weeks early, but it will always be an amazing day where my wishes were respected and I was able to feel in control along the way. It was a perfect day.

Dash day 6

I promise I'll continue the birth story, but tonight, I'm just exhausted. I'm so exhausted that I'm willfully skipping going to the hospital tonight for a late night visit with my boy. I need to try to take care of myself just a teeny bit.

I told Peter the other day that I have four categories in my life which are taking up my attention, and room for absolutely nothing else at this time. I have Baby #1 (Eleanor) at home, Baby #2 (Dash) at the hospital, pumping every 2-3 hours round the clock, and category four is shower/try to eat/sleep on occasion. Try to talk to me about anything else and it goes right over me.

So, yeah - we're pretty tired. But the good (GREAT) news is that Dashiell is doing fantastically today. He turned a major corner two nights ago, and continued with the huge steps forward progress today. I went in this morning and his oxygen had dropped from a 4 to a 3, and he was continuing with stable respirations. His bilirubin levels also dropped dramatically. When Peter and I went back around noon, he was completely off the oxygen support entirely! No nasal cannula, no oxygen machine, nothing. And, he continues to hold pretty steady with respirations. They still fluctuate a decent amount, but this is just fabulous. Plus, you can see his sweet face, and he looks just like his daddy. Like, twinsies. :)

Last night when we went in, the nurse let us try to nurse for the first time! I was so overjoyed with this news, and even more so when Dash literally latched right on and went to town. This boy knows what to do, for sure. In fact, he might even be a bit too eager, as he fell asleep very shortly after he started. Hopefully he'll get his stamina up soon and we can start nursing a lot more. Starting tomorrow (probably), we will nurse prior to him getting his feeding via feeding tube. While this is even more fabulous news for Dash (and me!), this means that life is going to get even more hectic. He has 8 feedings a day, and they'd like me to be there for as many as possible, which will likely mean sleeping at the hospital (and feeding him, then pumping, every three hours) and going back and forth a lot during the day. We'll need to figure out how best to keep Eleanor calm and give her the parent attention she craves, without compromising his feedings at the hospital too much.

We brought Ellie back this evening for her second visit. She saw pictures of him under the blue phototherapy lights a couple days ago and has called him Blue Baby ever since. She waved at him through his isolette, and his respirations went right up. I'm guessing this is a picture of their relationship to come!

Ellie's doing much, much better as well. We've really tried to get as much quality time with her as possible the last two days, and it shows in her attitude. She's much happier and calmer. We took her to the lake this afternoon to visit with my family and give her a change of pace (she's basically been in our home for the last 7 days straight) and she's been so happy ever since. Major relief all around tonight.

And with that, I head to bed. Or first - shower, maybe start a load of laundry (probably not, who am I kidding?), pump, wash pump parts, then go to bed. :) Sadly, I didn't upload any new Dash pics today, but here are two cuties of my first baby, taken by my sister.

Surprise! Special Delivery!

Oh, sweet baby Dash. So eager to join the world, but not quite ready. His story is quite different than his sister's, but first, a daily update.

He's doing really well today. I was greeted early this morning by great news: bilirubin levels down considerably, oxygen pressure (the measure of breathing support he needs) fell from a 5 to a 4 (at a 3 or below we can try nursing! This makes me SO happy) and his respirations (the primary "problem" spot for Dash) went from consistently clocking in around 90 breaths per minute to 50, which is right where they should be. We came back this afternoon, and found that his IV is out! Even better news. This means he's receiving all his feeds from me, via his feeding tube. It's great to see him without a clunky, uncomfortable IV, and according to his nurse, he passed out as soon as it was out - so comfortable. Can't blame him. :)

Now for his birth story. Or maybe just the first 18 hours of it.

I'm pretty sure I had what might be considered as an "irritable uterus." Yes, that's a true term. I felt Braxton Hicks contractions regularly from the very beginning of my second trimester, and by last Saturday, not only were they regular, but getting pretty painful. Some of them I found myself even breathing through. Just under two weeks before he was born, I had an unexpected trip to the midwives office, because I was having so many. She checked me out, and I wasn't dilated at all, and performed what's called a Fetal Fibronectin Test, which tests if you will be going into labor within the next two weeks. A negative result is 98-99% accurate, and my test came back negative. I didn't think about it again, but apparently I'm in the 2%. The following week, I had another midwife appointment, and again - despite an increase in uterine activity, no progress. Great.

last belly pic, 35 weeks

On Saturday the 13th, I was in a ton of pain. Pressure was almost keeping me from walking and the contractions were stopping me in my tracks. But - they weren't picking up in frequency or intensity, so I thought nothing of it. Spent most of the day on the couch, but also went for a nice long drive through a very random hail storm. (For what it's worth, I'm a huge believer in barometric pressure changes bringing on labor. It's happened to me twice now). That night we went to bed at 11 or so, and around 1:30 I woke up to use the bathroom. When I came back to bed, I curled up, rolled over and GUSH!

For a split second I thought maybe it wasn't my water. But the gushing continued and I hustled to the bathroom to check it out. Clear fluid, obviously amniotic in nature. (Funny story: my water broke in the exact same way and in the exact same place as it did with Eleanor!). Came back to the bedroom, turned out the lights and completely freaked out Peter by telling him my water broke. My heart was pounding through my chest. There is literally nothing like the shock and excitement of knowing that you're about to have a baby. We rushed around like chicken with our heads cut off, throwing things into bags and calling my mom to come watch Ellie. Eventually I realized I should call the midwife, who assured me that if the water was clear, I was fine to stay home until labor started (at this point, I wasn't having any more contractions at all. In fact, they had slowed to probably their lowest level in months). While some people definitely prefer this method, I think we were so amped up, and had no idea what to do with ourselves, so we decided to head to the hospital again.

(side note: we went in through the Emergency Room entrance because they were the only doors unlocked. The security guard took one look at me and let me pass. Score!)

After getting admitted, Peter and I tried to get some rest. Going back to sleep after this kind of adrenaline rush is nearly impossible, and I completely failed. One of my biggest concerns about going into labor was making sure my sister would arrive in time. We expected a quick delivery, and she lives three hours away. I started calling her at 2:15 in the morning or so, and continued calling her every hour on the hour. I sent text after text, and still nothing. Finally at 6:30, she answered her phone and immediately jumped on the road, assuming she might not make it. I waited a little longer to call my best friend Kelli who would be photographing (and supporting too!), as her 30th birthday was the day before and she was at a nearby casino/hotel celebrating/gambling/drinking etc.

In the meantime, I laid as flat as possible, willing my body to not go into labor yet, and willing the contractions to not start. I got my wish. Nothing happened, and by the time both my sister and Kelli arrived, I was no closer to being in labor than when the day started. Everyone's assumption was that once labor started, it would go fast.

When the girls finally arrived, we tried everything we could think of - walking, lunges, squats, bouncing on the ball, walking up and down hills (outside around the hospital!), pumping (to stimulate the oxytocin), etc. My midwife checked me at 9am, and I was 2cm dilated, 70% effaced and the baby was high, at -2 station. While I had contractions throughout the day, I could tell that nothing was really happening (although, I assumed I was dilating slowly). By 6pm, my mom and aunt (who had joined us after finding backup care for Ellie) went home to put Ellie to bed and Kelli went home to put her kids to bed. By 7pm, the first midwife's shift was over and the second began.

bouncing

waiting!

taking bets. We revised our bets several times

lunges! I've been told several times since then that "oh you were the girls who were lunging down the halls!" Apparently, this is unusual...

Just out for a stroll...

Relaxing. :)

My birth plan was to avoid artificial augmentation or induction at all costs. I hated the idea of being attached to any sort of IV and pitocin (aka, artificial oxytocin) scares the heck out of me for multiple reasons. Needless to say, when the second midwife came in at checked me, I had made zero progress and she carefully (to respect my wishes) but firmly (to communicate the need) said it was time to move forward with pitocin. I knew this was coming, but it totally broke my heart. Her concerns were very valid: at 35 weeks, our baby could have a hard enough time as it was transitioning from womb to air. If we were to introduce any sort of infection (and the risks of infection go up as the time goes on after a rupture of membranes), the baby's safety would be further compromised. Further, we'd tried pretty much everything, and had made zero progress in the 19 hours since rupture. After much deliberation (in hindsight, I think she just gave us the time so I could get adjusted to the idea), we agreed, at around 8:30 (with everyone who'd gone home to put babies to bed) an IV was inserted and a very low dose of pitocin was started. We assumed it would go fast at this point.

********

So - like labor, which I assumed would go fast, I also assumed this blog post would go fast. :) Haha. It's taken me all day to write this out (thanks, having two babies in two places!) so I'll finish tomorrow. I hate birth stories which are To Be Continued, but.... oh well. Cutting myself some slack, here!

Greetings, Dash!

Just over a week ago, I titled a post "Six Week Countdown." Apparently, I was assuming that I'd go the full 40 weeks. A week later, I had a baby. That was three days ago.

This is Dash. Dashiell Jack Lucas Lacy is his full name, born at 35 weeks, weighing 6 lbs 7 oz and measuring 20.5 inches long. He's perfect and beautiful and we love him so incredibly much already.

Because of his early delivery, he'll be camping out in the NICU while he learns to breathe on his own, and then masters the art of eating. We're hoping it won't be too long, but we're encouraging him to grow at his own pace.

We've had a constant request for updates from family and friends (the benefit of having such a wonderful extended support network), so I've decided to use this blog as a way to keep everyone up to date, hopefully daily while he's in the hospital. Tomorrow I hope to get his birth story written out, but apparently life with two small children, one at home and one in the NICU, combined with pumping every 2-3 hours is pretty time consuming.

So, the big questions are "Why is Dash in the hospital?" and "How's he doing?" Here's what's going on. He was born 5 weeks early, and he's a boy (big boy!), and often, for whatever reason, boys take a little longer to develop than girls - especially their lungs. On top of that, apparently his lungs are a  little underdeveloped for 35 weeks. So, he's breathing pretty rapidly (currently around 90 breaths per minute) while his lungs are developing. That being said, he doesn't need any supplemental oxygen support, he just needs pressure to help keep his lungs open. This is our primary concern, and he's already shown a good amount of improvement since his birth (however, it's a slow going process). Upon his birth, he was intubated (had a breathing tube down his throat), but his improvement led him to receive a CPAP instead (little breathing mask apparatus) and last night he was moved to a nasal canula (two pronged device in his nose). The next step is to decrease the help the canula provides, and then wean him off entirely.

He started receiving feeds (my milk) yesterday and their plans are to slowly increase his feeding volumes, while decreasing what he's been receiving from his IV (supplemental nutrition in the form of lipids and an electrolyte combo). This is great news. Once he's done with the oxygen support he'll get to start trying and learning to breastfeed, and once he's mastered that he'll come home. We both got to hold him yesterday for some time, but today we're holding off, as he's developed a good amount of jaundice and must stay under the phototherapy lights until his jaundice levels improve.

This whole process could take some time. We've heard everything from a week or so, to "closer to his due date." Obviously, we'd prefer the first, but whatever it takes to bring him home healthy. This will be an exercise in patience, for sure, but we're so happy with the care he's being provided with, and know that we're super lucky in the large scheme of things. He could be so much sicker, we're so close to the hospital (7 minutes!) and it's one of the best hospitals in the country.

And big sister Eleanor? She's adjusting... sort of. She had the time of her life while we were in the hospital giving birth, but now that we're home, she's showing definite signs of separation anxiety and general fussiness. It's hard - she's too young to understand what's going on, but knows that things are changing. We're going to try to make our time with her as intentional as possible, and extend her as much grace as we can when she melts down (the meltdowns we've seen in the last two days are the worst she's ever had). We'll get there. :)

More to come tomorrow, hopefully!

On Parenting

I wish I was more self-aware and deliberate about how I parent. I read inspirational blogs and articles written by mothers who really seem to understand themselves, their motivations and history and most importantly, their children, while so often I feel like I'm just over here, floundering.

Mostly, I feel like I fly by the seat of my pants in this whole parenting debacle. Sure, I have some ideas of how I'd like to run the show, but mostly I just seem to have a vague notion of what kind of people I'd like my children to become, and hope that somehow we'll get them there. Like - maybe simply by virtue of being part of this family, they'll turn out alright?

I'm pretty sure this is totally naive on my part though. My sister called me the other day to remind me not to be the "bitch who lets her asshole 3 year old run wild through the grocery store screaming." Thanks for that reminder, sis. I'm really hopeful that I won't be that bitch, and mostly that people won't see my kid and think, "wow, there's a lesson in what NOT to do." But I wonder if I'm doing everything I should be doing to keep those results from happening. Eleanor's entering a trying stage, for sure, and we're a little clueless about how to handle her mood swings and tantrums. Mostly though, I don't want to feel defeated at the end of every day, thinking about how rough it was on all of us, and how she's probably glad to be turning the page on this day. I want her to be happy, but recognize that happiness almost certainly lies in (or at least partially with) having the security of having boundaries, routine and structure.

It's funny how parenting seems to be this nonstop game of catch-up, and when you finally wrap your head around what's happening and why, the kid goes and changes and it starts all over again. Maybe that's one reason I'm looking forward to this new baby - a chance to do things from square one, and perhaps apply a bit of what we've learned the first time. Maybe it doesn't always feel this way for everyone. Maybe if you read the parenting books and study up on child development you aren't so caught off guard and can try to avoid always playing defense. I kinda doubt it though.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Side note: I'm feeling reflective in this moment, but truthfully, we had a very good day. Unlike yesterday, she woke up happy and stayed pretty happy most of the day. So that's a win. With a minor scuffle at dinner over her insistence on more cheese (don't know where she gets that from!) vs our insistence that she eat her chicken and rice first, and then she'd get more cheese, it was a pretty great day. She's talking happily through the monitor about puppies as she falls asleep, and while the living room is a slight mess, no one cares.

Other side note, almost entirely so I don't forget: I had to wear a 24 hour heart monitor starting at 4pm yesterday until 4pm this evening. I've had random bursts of tachycardia (one more fun thing about this pregnancy - a surging heart rate randomly throughout the day) and the cardiologist wanted to make sure my heart rhythms were normal. So envision a portable EKG device, and me with 5 electrode/lead things stuck to my chest. Two above shirt line, and three right below my bra, all attached to wires leading to a little pager looking device. Anyway, I told Ellie that they were "mama's owies" and she did pretty well not touching them, but kept saying "hi mama owie!" and giving them kisses. When I removed them, she said, "bye bye mama owie!" and "owie all gone!" and it was just so dang sweet. Also, she thought the pager thing was awesome and kept asking to hold it and use it as a cell phone. Smart kiddo. :)

Glimpse of our girl in a couple of years.

lunch is exciting!!

Doggie is forlorn he will NOT be sharing her lunch

Six Week Countdown

I'm camped out on the couch right now watching a Sesame Street DVD with my little buddy. We're munching on morning bagels with cream cheese, she's drinking some milk and I'm drinking my springtime favorite iced coffee and we're feeling pretty good this morning. She slept great and the baby in my belly gave me a well deserved break last night and only woke me once to use the bathroom. Winning!

(Although, Peter tells me that I've developed a new habit of snoring loudly during the night. Poor guy apparently moved to the couch to get away from me. I don't actually feel too badly about this. 1 - major pay back for the years of me "sleeping" next to his snoring and 2 - not my fault!).

Things have slowed waaaay down lately, and I'm so incredibly grateful for this time my husband is home with us. I'm just spent. Mentally, physically, emotionally, everything. I feel like I have so little to give right now, and am really looking forward to what will hopefully be a re-emergence of the old me in a couple of weeks. Peter took El all day yesterday while I went to a matinee showing of Jersey Boys with 7 other women in my  family. Very fun change of pace and relaxing, and I came home so rejuvenated. 34 weeks today, so we are right around the corner from meeting this new little person, and we are getting so excited.

So, for the record - here's where we are at 34 weeks.

• Huge! (obviously!)
• Started acupuncture a couple weeks ago, and so glad I did. Love it - and the woman I'm seeing does a combo of whatever she feels needs to be done. Massage/aromatherapy/acupuncture/etc. 
• Nausea is back, big time. V omitting  etc. Always a good way to start the morning. ;) I blame the terrific third tri heartburn.
• We *may* have names! Of course, this could change, but we're pretty zeroed in.
• Low back pain is intense.
• Swelling. I've sworn off shoes for the remainder of the pregnancy, and my rings are basically off for good. I indulged in two new maxi dresses from Target and am hoping that they can get me through.
• Contractions. Oh boy - braxton hicks contractions are frequent (6-8 an hour minimum, which is normal for me) and getting pretty painful at times. 
• Baby hiccups! Right now, as I type this...
• Appetite is leveling off. Weight, of course, is not. ;)
• Emotions are out of control. I'm not a crier, and have not been crier throughout either pregnancy, but the last week has been a little insane. Crying A LOT. And at anything.
• We have a very short shopping list which will be filled soon - basically just diapers and a few other small items - and we're done getting everything ready! We went from having done nothing to being completely ready to go (clothes washed, sorted, carseat ready, etc) in just two days. It's nice to know we're finally set.

And, so as not to forget our big girl, here are some recent pictures. She's just so funny right now - going back and forth between sweet as candy and making us want to pull our hair out. Her vocabulary is expanding, but she's still held back it seems by an inability to communicate at times what she wants. She's so strong willed and determined, and immediately breaks into tears when she doesn't get what she wants when she wants it. 6 weeks shy of two years old, and she's finally really connecting with reading books, starting to show us real imagination in her play (she loves to pretend she's a kitty), and is very affectionate. Can we really love another the way we love her? I trust we will, but for the next 6 weeks or so, she's the center of our worlds.