My husband and I often look at our daughter and are amazed at how far she has come. Sometimes those four months in the hospital and the year that followed when she came home seem like a bad dream. Did we really go through that? Was she really that small and fragile?
We know that she would not be here without the wonderful staff of her hospital and in particular the nurses that took care of her day after day. We keep in touch with a couple of them and send a letter to the hospital with a picture on her birthday letting them know what has happened in her life.
But, how do you thank someone them? Words just aren't enough. How can I express my gratitude for them saving my daughter on a daily basis (sometimes hourly)? I know to them it is just a job but that is our daughter and they saved her when there was nothing we could do but watch. Please know that if you are a NICU worker that we thank you...more than words could ever express.
Thursday, March 21, 2013
Friday, March 15, 2013
All Other Ground Is Sinking Sand
While Morgan was in the hospital, several people made comments like, "I don't know how you do it," "you are really strong," and "I don't think I could make it."
Well...I didn't do it.....I am weak.....I didn't make it. God did.
There is no way a person can make it out of a situation like having your child fighting for their life, day after day, without God, wether they believe in him or not. No one is strong enough, brave enough, determined enough. I think of the song, "On Christ the Solid Rock I Stand, All Other Ground Is Sinking Sand." God gave me strength to get though it even in the darkest hours.
It is impossible to explain the power that God has in situations like this. I, Lindsay, would never have been able to have a child naturally after 5 days of labor, hold my daughters hand who is only days old as they put a PICC line in her veins, or stand by her side not knowing if her next breath will be her last. No human, not even a mommy, could do this alone.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Hermit?
For the longest time I was so worried that MoMo was going to be a hermit. She was shy...no beyond shy...If either my husband or I would leave the room for just a minute she would cry uncontrollably. She had never been a good self-soother but I always thought she would just grow out of it. It was "normal" right? Well, after three years we decided we had to do something.
Our best guess for the reason for the emotional problems she had was due to her being a preemie and being kept in the house too much, too long. It wasn't until after she was ten months that we really took her anywhere. This meant staying in the house 24/7 times ten months. I'm no math wiz but that is a really long time. Plus, we don't have any family where we live and couldn't really make friends (since we were always locked in doors).
Last fall we decided to enroll her in a Mother's Day Out program. I had never heard of these before but it has quickly become my saving grace. In the past few months we have seen MoMo blossom into a beautiful and self-confidant young lady. Her teachers are wonderful and have all of the patience in the world helping her through her hurdles. She now looks forward to going and doesn't even know I'm gone.
We also have been able to take her other places like church, family and friends' houses, and tomorrow we are trying our local MOPS group. MOPS is Mother's of Preschoolers. I've been wanting to try them for 3 and 1/2 years now. Hopefully she will do good tomorrow.
Our best guess for the reason for the emotional problems she had was due to her being a preemie and being kept in the house too much, too long. It wasn't until after she was ten months that we really took her anywhere. This meant staying in the house 24/7 times ten months. I'm no math wiz but that is a really long time. Plus, we don't have any family where we live and couldn't really make friends (since we were always locked in doors).
Last fall we decided to enroll her in a Mother's Day Out program. I had never heard of these before but it has quickly become my saving grace. In the past few months we have seen MoMo blossom into a beautiful and self-confidant young lady. Her teachers are wonderful and have all of the patience in the world helping her through her hurdles. She now looks forward to going and doesn't even know I'm gone.
We also have been able to take her other places like church, family and friends' houses, and tomorrow we are trying our local MOPS group. MOPS is Mother's of Preschoolers. I've been wanting to try them for 3 and 1/2 years now. Hopefully she will do good tomorrow.
Tuesday, January 22, 2013
Watch What You Say...You Never Know Who's Listening
About a month after MoMo was born I followed a couple of interns into the NICU. The first thing you see when you enter is the communal sink to scrub in before seeing the babies.
I was just going about my day, happy to be seeing my baby in a minute and couldn't help but overhear (and when I say overhear, I really just mean hear...they were talking normal, not even trying to whisper) their conversation.
Intern 1: I'm so excited today. I can't believe we get to work on the sickest baby in the NICU.
Intern 2: I know. I didn't know we would even get to work hands on with any of the babies.
My first thought was how inappropriate their conversation was in such an open place where anyone could hear. I remember thinking that I hope the mother of that baby never hears them say that. They quickly moved on and I moved up to the sink...scrubbed....went around the corner to MoMo. This is when I saw the interns looking over MY baby.
I understand that to them this is job, an opportunity but they need to realize that the child, fighting for her life, is MY BABY. MY LIFE. MY EVERYTHING. This is a plea to all of you nurses, interns, doctors, respiratory therapists, etc. please be mindful of your conversations in and around the NICU. You never know who is listening. We understand that the care of the babies is your job but please understand that they are a lifeline.
I was just going about my day, happy to be seeing my baby in a minute and couldn't help but overhear (and when I say overhear, I really just mean hear...they were talking normal, not even trying to whisper) their conversation.
Intern 1: I'm so excited today. I can't believe we get to work on the sickest baby in the NICU.
Intern 2: I know. I didn't know we would even get to work hands on with any of the babies.
My first thought was how inappropriate their conversation was in such an open place where anyone could hear. I remember thinking that I hope the mother of that baby never hears them say that. They quickly moved on and I moved up to the sink...scrubbed....went around the corner to MoMo. This is when I saw the interns looking over MY baby.
I understand that to them this is job, an opportunity but they need to realize that the child, fighting for her life, is MY BABY. MY LIFE. MY EVERYTHING. This is a plea to all of you nurses, interns, doctors, respiratory therapists, etc. please be mindful of your conversations in and around the NICU. You never know who is listening. We understand that the care of the babies is your job but please understand that they are a lifeline.
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Giving up? Not me!
I had always intended to keep a blog going for my daughter Morgan, or MoMo, as we lovingly refer to her nowadays. I can't count the number of times that I have tried to write, only to give up in a matter of minutes. Most of you reading this blog are (hopefully) not going to have first hand experience with the things my family has been through but to us this is/was real life. Thank you to all of those who have looked at this these pages. You are the reason I'm finally writing our story.
Honesty and openness are two very important things to me. Sometimes to a fault. I believe in being an open book, especially if it can help others. As explained in my earlier posts, my husband and I have (and are still) experiencing fertility problems. We have been pregnant three times and only one of those successfully resulted in birth.
I guess the first thing thing that comes to mind when talking about our infertility is pain and sadness. Don't get me wrong, I am blessed and over-joyed to be a mother but I still feel loss for the babies that we lost and trauma of Morgan's birth and those horrific (yes, still wonderful, too) days, weeks and months that followed.
The first pregnancy that failed was September of 2008, after two years of trying to conceive. At the time the loss for me was just one of a lot of blood with a lot of cramping. A baby was just an abstract thing to me at the time. I knew I wanted to have a child with my husband and so we tried...and tried...and tried.... The loss was much more physical than emotional. It's hard for me to admit that now but I had no idea what I lost at the time. I don't even really remember talking to my husband in any detail about it or if I even told him at all. I spent the better part of 4 days curled up in a ball on my upstairs bathroom floor. I remember just wanting the pain to go away. We would try again.
The next pregnancy was Morgan, January 2009. Finding out about her was a roller coaster all of its own and I will share that story later but now I will keep it short by just saying that the pregnancy was wonderful up until the time I went into labor at 24 weeks. What was supposed to be the happiest day in my life was also the worst day of my life. From the moment Morgan was conceived I knew she was a miracle but the thing I remember most from the morning I had her was the dread of knowing she was coming out and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was supposed to protect her and there I was putting her in the most dangerous situation imaginable. It is taking me a long time to get over any part of the guilt that I felt and still feel about that day.
Our last pregnancy was January 2011. It was unplanned and rocky from the start. Our OBGYN was not optimistic from the beginning. My hormone levels we very low and I was put on progesterone but to no avail. We lost the baby after weeks watching and waiting. I was around fifteen weeks pregnant when the final decision was made to have a DNC after no heartbeat was ever found. The eleven weeks that I knew I was expecting were also filled with ups and downs. I was throwing up, an emotional wreck and those lovely stretch marks were already creeping around my belly. My body was already starting to show so we had to tell our close family. We hoped and prayed that we would have another miracle. During that time, every part of my body and mind were in the pregnancy. I felt not only the loss of that baby but was also able to grieve for the first baby.
I'm sure I will get into more of the details to come but in the mean time, feel free to leave comments or questions. If you have anything specific you want to know, just ask. I would be more than happy to share and hopefully help along the way.
Honesty and openness are two very important things to me. Sometimes to a fault. I believe in being an open book, especially if it can help others. As explained in my earlier posts, my husband and I have (and are still) experiencing fertility problems. We have been pregnant three times and only one of those successfully resulted in birth.
I guess the first thing thing that comes to mind when talking about our infertility is pain and sadness. Don't get me wrong, I am blessed and over-joyed to be a mother but I still feel loss for the babies that we lost and trauma of Morgan's birth and those horrific (yes, still wonderful, too) days, weeks and months that followed.
The first pregnancy that failed was September of 2008, after two years of trying to conceive. At the time the loss for me was just one of a lot of blood with a lot of cramping. A baby was just an abstract thing to me at the time. I knew I wanted to have a child with my husband and so we tried...and tried...and tried.... The loss was much more physical than emotional. It's hard for me to admit that now but I had no idea what I lost at the time. I don't even really remember talking to my husband in any detail about it or if I even told him at all. I spent the better part of 4 days curled up in a ball on my upstairs bathroom floor. I remember just wanting the pain to go away. We would try again.
The next pregnancy was Morgan, January 2009. Finding out about her was a roller coaster all of its own and I will share that story later but now I will keep it short by just saying that the pregnancy was wonderful up until the time I went into labor at 24 weeks. What was supposed to be the happiest day in my life was also the worst day of my life. From the moment Morgan was conceived I knew she was a miracle but the thing I remember most from the morning I had her was the dread of knowing she was coming out and there was nothing I could do to stop it. I was supposed to protect her and there I was putting her in the most dangerous situation imaginable. It is taking me a long time to get over any part of the guilt that I felt and still feel about that day.
Our last pregnancy was January 2011. It was unplanned and rocky from the start. Our OBGYN was not optimistic from the beginning. My hormone levels we very low and I was put on progesterone but to no avail. We lost the baby after weeks watching and waiting. I was around fifteen weeks pregnant when the final decision was made to have a DNC after no heartbeat was ever found. The eleven weeks that I knew I was expecting were also filled with ups and downs. I was throwing up, an emotional wreck and those lovely stretch marks were already creeping around my belly. My body was already starting to show so we had to tell our close family. We hoped and prayed that we would have another miracle. During that time, every part of my body and mind were in the pregnancy. I felt not only the loss of that baby but was also able to grieve for the first baby.
I'm sure I will get into more of the details to come but in the mean time, feel free to leave comments or questions. If you have anything specific you want to know, just ask. I would be more than happy to share and hopefully help along the way.
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