Parenting, Explained to a Parent

"Hi there, so sorry I missed your call last week - this is Little Man's mom calling to reschedule his PT appointment?"
"Yes hi - we have him listed for this Friday at 2, is that okay?"
"Well no, we have an appointment this week but the following Friday would be fine."
"Okay well, do Fridays at 2 normally work for you? We need a consistent appointment time and you need to keep them so progress can be made with Little Man."
"... Yes, Fridays normally work fine."
"Um... so then yes, why did you say you needed to return my call?"
"Because you canceled our appointment last Friday."

Seriously. Eff the eff off. If I cancel or reschedule an appointment before the required 48 hours, keep your nose out of my business. And if I didn't give you notice, charge my credit card and feel free to inform me that you did. All of that can be done without the side of guilt. I usually overshare and explain to you that he's come down with a bug or that something came up with one of my other kids that needs to be addressed, but even if I didn't... Your office policy is that I call, I called, I didn't ask for your opinion on my child's medical situation Office Manager Judy Snoopy*.

Even though I know Judy is full of crap, it still stings to hear some stranger decide you aren't doing enough. Judy doesn't know that this PT is a placeholder until his Botox loosens up his foot more, that I'm paying a co-pay for a therapist to look at my son's foot and tell me there isn't anything more she can do without hurting him. A co-pay and visit that I have to be careful to space out because insurance grants us 75 visits a year and we will need to use multiple times weekly after his casting and/or surgery much more than we will now. Judy also doesn't know that I have two other children who can be in various levels of need or crisis that I have to consider. Or that I have to be home to receive delivery for a new fridge now that our old one bit the dust. She just wants to impart her glorious wisdom to me because apparently I can't possibly understand that I need to seek medical care for my child?

It is impressive how with one sentence I can feel pissed off, guilty, and anxious all at once.

I hate Judy Snoopy.

*Name changed, obviously. Who would name their kid Judy Snoopy?

I Know You're A Neurologist... But... HELP!

Last Wednesday Little Man finally had his follow up with his neurologist. We'd had to cancel the last one because Hubs went out of town for work and I was flying solo with the boys and no sitters, so we'd been waiting since mid March for this appointment.

The logistics of getting up to Hopkins is always a nightmare for us because we live so far away. It ends up being four hours round trip, not including the stop at the end for a Costco run. And as tedious as the drive is it really isn't the worst part. The worst part is getting Little Man to walk through the massive hospital when he won't keep his shoes on, has to stop and lean on you every few moments for a rest, and needs constant redirection to keep moving at his snail's pace. And if you've ever experienced a toddler cling, a giant nine-year-old cling is ten times as heavy and just as frustrating.

So I opted to bring the beach wagon, as a way to hopefully bypass the taking off the shoes and slow walking around. Definitely wasn't ideal, definitely wrenched my back dragging 65 pounds of stroller and kid. But it was better than not using anything. More on that later.

We met with neurology for his med check and all things brain. His doctor upped his medication levels despite no seizures recently because Little Man had a pretty big weight jump from the hospital stay. He also thinks that we will probably continue with the medication for at least two more years, if not for his lifetime. The risk of seizures with Little Man is now just too great. With his foot and muscle issues on my mind however, we ended up talking mostly about what our next steps were and if we could use Hopkins as our point of contact.

The neurologist was amazingly patient and walked me through way more than he is obligated to... and when he didn't have an answer he took the time to ask his boss to figure out more ideas. I freaking love residents. I've had plenty of bad experience with doctors, but residents rarely let me down.

So about that foot... we have to call our insurance company, find a specialty pharmacy that will ship the Botox to my house, and then I have to bring the Botox to a doctor who specializes in physical rehab. That doctor will do the injections, which should loosen the muscles enough to get an AFO or cast on the Little Man. Botox only lasts for 6-8 weeks, so we're probably looking at more than one set of injections, which is a four hour round trip to the doctor's each time. What a nightmare! But all of the doctors agree, Little Man is slowly losing the ability to walk, so it's a non-negotiable.

We also are getting a prescription for more physical therapy and a transport chair (aka, stroller for big kids) to help us cart Little Man around without using the wagon. PT is of course at Krieger in Baltimore again, so we're looking into a class I can take as a caregiver to be able to do the stretches and exercises at home. Hopefully I could learn a few exercises and talk about them with his school therapist as well, since they've backed off so much of the physical therapy in his IEP.

We've barely scratched the surface of what comes next for Little Man and I'm already an anxious, hive-covered mess. For someone who hates talking to people on the phone and who has major panic attacks doing highway drives, so far this is making the next few weeks look hellish.

Walk It Out - Part 2

Little Man's orthopedic appointment was yesterday. We waited 2 hours for a 10 minute appointment, and I came close to walking out and heading home because I was so irritated. Luckily, Little Man was being an angel. And we'd already paid a $40 copay. Yeesh.

When the doctor finally came in and talked to us, it was a whirlwind of information in a short burst. After I explained his formal diagnosis (birth injury, hydrocephalus corrected, epilepsy, developmental delay), she seemed... skeptical? I don't know the correct way to describe her face. She asked to see Little Man's walk, and examined his foot. Immediately she noticed how tight his foot was and I mentioned his previous AFOs (leg braces) and how he'd outgrown them years ago but his gait hadn't gotten worse until recently.

Within seconds, she let us know that his muscles were now so tight he will probably require surgery to help flatten out his foot again. And even after surgery, he would be back in AFO's for awhile. Our only hope to prevent surgery would be to take him to another specialist who would inject him with Botox. This would hopefully relax the muscles enough to get him into casts or AFOs again. She wasn't sure it's a viable option for him because of how tight his muscles are now, but it is worth a shot. Either way, something has to be done or he will lose more and more mobility.

Then the doctor looked at me and told me I was doing a great job as a mom. And gently asked if I realized that what Little Man's dealing with is a form of cerebral palsy.

It's just another diagnosis. Another set of words. It didn't and doesn't change a thing. But it felt like I was punched in the gut. And so I cried for a minute and then she handed me some paperwork and hugged us both. 

Within minutes we were on our way to get Little Man a Happy Meal for being a trooper and making it the whole morning without throwing a tantrum. It looks like it's going to be another crazy ride towards what looks like some more big medical decisions. Phone calls start today!

Walk It Out - Little Man's Feet

Little Man had a very late IEP this year due to some scheduling issues - ours and the school's. He should've been evaluated and seen in March, but that's when he had his seizure, and after several back and forth calls we finally got in to see his team in late May.

Most of the IEP was fairly routine, but his physical therapist pulled me aside with some concerns. She only sees Little Man once a month because the county feels his progress with PT is maxed out (don't even get me started), but she works with his class regularly in swim therapy. She wanted to let me know she saw that he is having more and more trouble walking, and has some serious issues with balance and his feet.

I had to agree with her. We'd seen some issues ourselves, and now that he's been home on break we've seen even more. Circulation was my biggest worry because in the morning his one foot can look a little blue-ish and the muscles are clenched so tightly his toes curl under. We took him to the doctor for at the start of school and they didn't see anything alarming back in September. Things have definitely gotten worse since then though. His limp is more pronounced than ever, and he doesn't walk on the soles of his feet at all. He uses the inside of his left foot, curled under, and propels his right foot forward and walks on his toes. It's super hard to describe, I'll have to take a video of it at some point. But he's lost a lot of mobility and it makes walking distances extremely difficult now. And with Little Man being a tall and gangly nearly nine year old, he's outgrown any stroller we can buy commercially. We're looking at spending upwards of $400 on a stroller that would accommodate his size and weight for a good length of time. *Sigh* For now, if Little Man adventures with us we just move very slowly. Not ideal, but we take big trips so infrequently that we always seem to put that expense on the back burner and focus on his immediate and daily needs.

Little Man at the dentist last week - no cavities, just bruises for Mommy as she held him in place for the teeth cleaning.

But the stroller might not be something we can put off for too much longer, because his PT suggested that to correct the foot and gait issues we will need to go to an orthopedist for a full leg cast. We've tried orthotics with him in the past, and they haven't been successful, so she thinks this is the next step. I'm dreading the idea but we have an appointment next week with an orthopedist that specializes in special kids. If he's cast it would be about 4-6 weeks. And then he could need further casts depending on how he needs to be adjusted.

I'm trying not to get ahead of myself. But this could be a very intense summer for Little Man.

Epilepsy - A New Diagnosis for Little Man

Our mornings before school with Little Man are pretty easy now that we have a solution to the Bed Wars. We go downstairs and bring him up from his room around 7:15. He seats himself while we make him a breakfast of dry cereal, toast, and milk with Pediasure or yogurt in it for calories. At 7:58 I walk upstairs and grab him some clean socks from the laundry room, at 8:00 I brush his teeth, and we are outside waiting for the bus by 8:04. It's a simple routine and both Little Man and I love the ease of routine.

On this particular March morning it was business as usual. Hubs had brought Little Man upstairs that day because he was running late for work and I was savoring an extra ten minutes of sleep. Little Man was eating breakfast and I plodded downstairs half asleep to kiss Hubs as he walked out the door. We were talking about something and so he was going to be even more late and raced off at about 7:50.

At my usual 7:58 I glanced up at Little Man who was finishing up his toast and headed up for his socks. When I hit the bottom of the stairs at 8:00, I instantly saw something was different. Little Man's eyes were unfocused, he was staring off to the right of the room and looking at nothing. I went over to him and tried to turn his head to face me and a trail of drool came out of his mouth. As I kept repeating his name, his head wouldn't turn and suddenly his eye started twitching. I called Hubs immediately and told him I thought something was happening and to come home right now. I put him on speaker and kept yelling at Little Man to look at me, to focus, and then I just started sobbing. Hubs assured me everything was going to be fine but that he'd turn around and see if something was wrong.

When he walked in the door minutes later, Hubs took one look at Little Man and swept him out to the car. Little Man was able to be guided out the door but definitely wasn't walking well. They left for the hospital and I called my in-laws to come stay with the babies while I tried to pull myself together enough to make the drive, and I got to the hospital by 8:45.

I write these exact times because I don't know how else to explain how fast this all happened. One minute things were absolutely normal. The next minute my heart was in my throat and my world was upside down. I went through worst case scenarios in my head as I drove.

When I walked in to Little Man's room at the ER, I saw Hubs in the corner of the room and he had been crying. I think that's when I let myself start falling apart. Little Man was still seizing, because that's what we confirmed was happening - his first seizure since he was 2 days old. This smaller local hospital was doing everything they could to help him, but we could tell by the tense atmosphere in the room that we wouldn't be staying in this ER for long. Hubs and I held each other and cried. We held Little Man's hand and whispered to him that we were there, but his seizure had gotten stronger and he was completely unable to react to us. His eyes kept twitching and his jaw was clenched shut. Watching him got harder and harder the long we sat there, and the longer the seizure went on the less hope we had that things would be okay.

The doctors had placed a mask on him to help him breathe. They'd tried two doses of an anti-seizure medication and nothing was helping. At 9:30 they reached his neurosurgeon at Hopkins and they told us they would be taking Little Man to Baltimore by helicopter as soon as it could get there, and if his seizure wasn't under control by then we'd have to put in a breathing tube - an option that could cause further complications down the road and that he was hoping to avoid. Finally, Hopkins and the ER approved a final, different seizure drug before the helicopter arrived, and at 10:15 his seizure was over. It had been over two hours. I didn't know anyone could seize for two hours.

*Side Note - As I was watching my Little Man seizing on the hospital bed, I received an "emergency call" from Hopkins intake. I raced out to the phone at the nurses station assuming I needed to hear about what the next steps were before the helicopter arrived. Which was true - they wanted to validate my insurance and make sure we could afford the $400 co-pay for the helicopter ride, or they wouldn't be taking him. Again, this is while he was actively seizing and they could not get it under control. I don't think I've ever been more angry in my life.*

Shortly after his stabilization and my approval with the insurance company, Life Flight arrived. Originally we'd been told I'd fly up with him, but the helicopter had no space. We raced home and met the in-laws to let them know we had to drive up north, and to pack a bag. After our morning, we didn't think we'd be leaving Baltimore that night or even anytime soon.

But when we arrived in Baltimore a few hours later, our worst nightmare had turned into a relaxing afternoon at the hospital. Little Man was fast asleep, which the surgeons and neurologists said was very normal after such an intense seizure. His neurosurgery team recommended we do some testing to rule out a shunt issue, but neurology was fairly confident that with medication he could leave the hospital that evening. My Mama Bear defenses were still on high alert from the morning, so I insisted that he wouldn't be leaving the hospital until every test was done and any shunt issues completely ruled out. Luckily the surgery team was on our side, and agreed that a night of observation wasn't out of the question.

That night we had an EEG, which we hoped would show no further seizure activity and would also show us if this prolonged seizure caused further brain damage. Little Man was waking up a bit more from his seizure and so this was tougher than expected, but we got enough results to confirm two great things - no seizures were happening, and although there was some brain damage, it didn't appear to be new.

The next morning, we got the all clear to head home. We were given a choice of two anti-seizure medications for Little Man to be on for the next few months. One of them would require weekly blood tests to check for liver damage, the other had side effects that caused behavioral issues in children. We went with the latter, and he will be on that twice a day for the next few months at least.

We left Baltimore that morning with a few answers, and a few questions. Epilepsy brought on by the beginning of puberty was our official diagnosis. The seizures he had as an infant had a dormant phase and now he could be in for a period of many seizures, or never have one again. There isn't a way of knowing unless we take him off the medication again. We also don't know why the seizure was so long or if he'd been possibly having smaller, unnoticed seizures for a time. He used to have a habit of stopping an activity and staring blankly into space for a moment or two before continuing, and since he started his medication he no longer seems to do that.

For now, things are back to baseline. At 7:50 this morning he received one of his twice daily doses of medication, and by 8:04 he was at the bus stop. He's the most resilient kiddo I've ever known.

Welcome Back

Here I am! I'm alive! I'm back!

The silence was a combination of things. My old laptop crapped out on me, for one. And for two, my lawyer advised against writing for awhile while we dealt with some legal things.

Today I have a new laptop. And as of one week ago, I have no more legal things. So welcome back to our home!

If you need to catch up on the most basic details - here goes;

Hubs and I are celebrating 5 years of marriage in November. He's still amazing. He's still the most sane person in this house.

Little Man turns 9 in July *gulp*, which is not scaring me at all, not one little bit. We've had a couple health scares recently - a shunt surgery last September to move the shunt and unclog it, and our first very-big-very-scary seizure last month. The seizure lasted 2 hours before we were able to get it under control, and we spent an overnight in the hospital while trying to figure out what happened. Docs decided it was probably a result of the damage his brain suffered from his seizures as a baby, brought on by the beginning of puberty *gulp*. He's now on anti-seizure meds and has an official epilepsy diagnosis. Other than that, he's pretty much coasting along Little Man style. Nothing has really changed in his mental/social development, although he is working really hard at school to use an iPad for communication. He is officially a giant gangly boy!

Little Man shopping with me at Wegmans - I love the Caroline Carts!

Vegas turns 4 in August! It has been amazing watching him grow and change over the last year. Until a few months ago we were fairly positive he had apraxia of speech, a condition where he couldn't use his mouth muscles to form certain sounds. Now that diagnosis is a little more uncertain, because his speech has just exploded!! He started preschool in December unable to say any words, and now we can't stop him trying out new sounds and supplementing those with his sign language! He still takes speech therapy once a week because his words are very unclear and this jump in language is so sudden, but I have a feeling he'll be just fine in a year or so!! In addition to the preschool (which he loves) he goes to gymnastics once a week and his gross motor skills are also improving a ton. My cautious little toddler is starting to become a braver and stronger little boy. He's a total ham, and tests my patience every day. But dang he's cute...

Vegas saying "Cheeeeeese"

And finally - the baby! It's been so long since I've written, he doesn't even have a blog name! So introducing - Cheeseball! Cheeseball is going to be 2 years old in September. He is a snuggly, smiley, lovebug, and a definite Daddy's boy. He's got some serious shy-guy stranger anxiety going on which he's slooooowly outgrowing, but if Daddy is around he needs to be within eyeshot or it is a total meltdown. With all the focus on Little Man's health and Vegas' speech, we were slower to notice that Cheeseball's speech development is also behind. But by 18 months we realized it was time to get him into a Infants and Toddlers evaluation, which put him at about 11-12 months in speech skills. Nothing too major, especially with two strong and silent big brothers. So we start him in speech therapy this summer and hope for some progress by next year. We plan to start him in gymnastics too, because he's a huge daredevil - so much more curious and into climbing than his big brothers were, I know he will be my first kid to get stitches at this rate!

We don't call him "Cheeseball" for nuthin'

So there ya go! That's the quickest update I can jam into one easy-to-read post. I have a ton of other more detailed posts to write in the next few weeks. Some things I've been dying to put pen to paper about forever, and some others just to have to look back on for our family.

It's good to be back!

No Easy Fixes

There are no easy fixes when it comes to Little Man. Going in to our appointment last Friday, I was pretty sure there would be tears - from me as well as Little Man. I woke up that morning and my bug had finally decided to hit me HARD. In the face. I walked around like a zombie while Hubs got everyone dressed and out the door, and managed to make me some breakfast for the road. I was miserable all day so I knew a stress-related breakdown at the appointment was inevitable. I am the kind of person who releases any emotion with tears, so I knew to stock the van with a box of soft and lotion-y tissues for the day.

Little Man started the appointment by having a serious tantrum that lasted a solid twenty minutes or so. Some head slapping and dramatic tears were eventually alleviated with three bags of fruit snacks and some therapy work. But the news was pretty much what I expected - we are on one wait list to see a psychiatrist for a med evaluation, and a second wait list for a two week long intensive outpatient program for behavioral modification. We are also restarting the every-other-week sessions with his psychologist. Even knowing it was coming, the serious look on his therapist's face brought me to tears. This therapist has seen Little Man since he was three years old, so he's seen Little Man at his best and at his lowest. This look said to me that this is the lowest we've been in those three years. And even typing that makes me tear up and my heart break.

I set aside all thoughts of therapy this weekend to just enjoy time with friends and Hubs. Even though we both were exhausted and still a little sick, I think we needed it. We spent Saturday night at a friend's Christmas party and Sunday night I went to brunch with more friends. Then yesterday I auditioned for another community theater production. Being busy is the only thing that keeps me sane. Sometimes I feel like the more I have on my plate, the more focused and happy I am. I mean, talk to me about that again in a few months, but yes - busy is good!

Speaking of busy, we have only a few days until I leave with two wiggly little boys and Hubs for a 16 hour road trip to Wisconsin. To save a crapton (yes, a unit of measurement) of money we decided on renting the smaller car versus the SUV. Cross your fingers and hearts for us, I'm hoping we make it in one piece. We are literally driving up, spending two days with family, and then driving back. We are insane.

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And because he didn't get mentioned much, here is a photo of Vegas being adorable. Also a reminder that I love this little squish, because seriously this grumpy mood he's been in for two days is no fun at all.

"It's Probably Not Cancer" and how we switched pediatricians

Before Vegas was born, we knew that having a good local pediatrician would be crucial. We couldn't use Little Man's - she was not only over two hours away, she also had terrible availability. So we toured an office on the recommendation of friends and absolutely loved it. It wasn't perfect, this ped was still a half hour's drive from us. But we figured it would all work out in the end and we were fairly used to driving to any appointment so it was decided - New Ped would see Vegas and eventually we'd transfer Little Man there as well.

Flash forward to the day we arrive home from the hospital... New Ped didn't have privileges at our hospital so we called to set up the newborn visit for sometime in the next few days. I was very anxious to get the all-clear on Vegas despite all the assurances he was practically perfect in every way, and New Ped had promised to see him herself ASAP.

"We're sorry, we don't have any availability for at least three weeks."

Three weeks? But this was the newborn check!  He would be practically ancient by then! And if there was a brain bleed, it would go undetected for three weeks? Hell no. 

We begged, we pleaded, we repeated the assurances we'd received only a couple of weeks prior. But the receptionist was rude as hell firm - no visits were available.

So we called another pediatrician, this one was between Hubs' office and the house, an ideal location but we'd never met them. He could see Vegas the next day for his newborn check. We were sold.

New New Pediatrician's office was a little more ancient classic. It was in a bigger building with a lot of other doctors, and these pediatricians had been practicing for a lot longer than New Ped. This didn't really bother me much, most of his wisdom was the kind of stuff I'd grown up hearing at my own doctor's visits, and I could relate. He was a friendly doctor, great with Vegas, and he said it would be fine to switch Little Man to him as well.

After we brought in Little Man though, he quickly realized that he was not equipped to handle a kid with disabilities this intense. Although he did say we could continue with his practice, his actions suggested he was uncomfortable with the situation. He refused to even give Little Man a flu shot because he was unsure of the protocol for kids with shunts. We decided after that visit that Little Man would continue with a New New New Pediatrician, and we'd keep Vegas with New New Ped.  Still following?  Good. You're doing better than I thought you would!

Back to Vegas' story - New New Ped was now very cautious with Vegas' health after seeing his big brother. Within his first few weeks, we'd already been directed to a see a specialist about Vegas' feet (slightly bowed from his position in the womb), and another specialist about his pretty intense baby acne.  A few months after that, we were told that Vegas' head was above average sized and he would need to be brought in for extra appointments, our heads needed to be measured and averaged, and then we'd possibly see a third specialist at Children's Hospital.  A couple months later and we were finally told that he just has a big head - but now his "slow development" was concerning. Vegas was already 9 months old and not playing patty-cake.

I think that day was when I finally realized this pediatrician - despite his good nature and great location - was not going to work out. I knew there was nothing wrong with my littlest. He didn't play patty-cake because I don't play patty-cake with him. No, he didn't stand already - but he was slower to walk and so I wasn't worried in the slightest. Until New New Ped told me to worry that is. I didn't have any options for a new ped that I liked and trusted in the area though, so we just stayed with New New Ped because it was convenient. I figured if I found someone we'd eventually switch, but I was not in a big hurry.

With birthdays and vacations keeping us busy all summer, Vegas was late for his 1 year checkup. We went in and he needed his four vaccinations and a blood test for iron levels. The nurse suggested we do the blood test first, and it would be a quick finger prick.

The finger prick took forever, he was slow to start bleeding and it felt like that vial couldn't fill up fast enough. He was hysterically crying and it was breaking my heart to hold him down. Eventually she'd gotten enough blood and she gave him a bandaid and left the room to drop off the vial.

Suddenly Vegas' finger started to bleed for real - all down his arm, the table, and the floor. He was struggling and screaming and I couldn't keep a grip on him on the exam table. I screamed for someone to help me and no one came, even though I had seen a group of nurses hanging out just outside the door.  After what felt like an eternity but was probably only a minute or two, the nurse came back and helped me calm him down and bandaged him back up.  But I was totally thrown, and the shots that followed didn't do anything to calm me down.

We got home and I called Hubs to let him know he was in charge for the next blood draw, and I that I hated the nurses. Even then I was still not "done" with New New Ped, but we were definitely going to be looking for a new doctor sooner rather than later. I was angry, but not angry enough.

That is, I wasn't angry enough until the next day. Hubs called me while I was at a class and told me that New New Ped called him at home around 5 pm. He had gotten the results of Vegas' blood draw and he'd "never seen anything like it before", it was extremely abnormal. He wanted Vegas' in for a redraw in a week, because even his colleagues were confused by these results.

He did want to assure us that it was "probably not cancer though".  This was an issue with red blood cells, so yeah, he didn't think it was cancer.  But it was definitely urgent, and we needed to be in soon.

That is when I went from angry, to Mama Bear furious.  Calling a family at home as they sit down to dinner to inform them of this kind of news? News that you probably had all day, that you waited til end of business day to call to talk about?  News that is "urgent", but we will wait a week to see what happens?! And where in the WORLD did the "c" word come from?!  I am no medical doctor, but even I know that an abnormal red blood cell count doesn't bring cancer to the front of the pack of medical issues you're having, and you're talking to the very frightened family of a one year old!?!? OVER THE PHONE?!

By the next morning we'd switched Vegas to New New New Ped, the lovely but not local doctor we'd found for Little Man. Between 8 am and 11 am, they'd called New New Ped, gotten the lab results, gotten Vegas' records released, reread the lab results, and confirmed with me that they felt it was a faulty test and human error - not a horrible blood problem. Possibly anemia. They wanted to do a retest to confirm that, because they didn't trust this test at all, but it was nothing to panic over. And that was that.

I wish we'd started seeing a new doctor sooner. I should have trusted my gut and switched the minute I realized that this guy was not a good fit for our family. Lesson learned the hard way.

Little Man and Vegas, healthy and probably cancer free.
Seriously, eff that doctor.

3 Years Ago...

3 years ago Little Man underwent a shunt revision. He'd been having vomiting episodes for almost a year, and every time I took him to the doctor or the E.R. I was assured everything was 'normal'. He was exposed to germs in daycare and Ex's house wasn't the cleanest of places (a story for another day), so his vomiting was chalked up to those things and called a day.

Eventually Hubs and I ended up making a 2 hour trip to the only emergency room qualified to give Little Man an MRI or CT because of his shunt. Even after I brought my listless and exhausted three year old in to this major hospital E.R., they couldn't find anything wrong him. They tapped it (took some cerebral spinal fluid from inside the shunt) and his pressure seemed normal. But as the medical resident was tapping the shunt, some spinal fluid leaked and he seemed to be having a tough time with the procedure. We didn't know it then, but he hadn't gotten an accurate result.

He was sleeping most of the time, a symptom of shunt failure but also a symptom of every other illness ever.

So after a three day hospital stay, the head of the pediatric neurology team came and performed the tap again herself. They'd been hesitant to tap again so soon because every tap can introduce germs into the shunt and that's a place you don't particularly want germs. Also because of other medical junk I cannot remember 3 years out. But anyhow, the neurologist found out that the shunt was partially clogged and not working, so they scheduled a brain surgery for that afternoon. The surgery was quick, "an easy brain surgery" (according to the surgeon, not me), and after another overnight he was able to leave the next day.

Wicked headache and bad haircut, but a total trooper.

Needless to say, I felt terrible that it took nearly a year of doctor visits and nightly vomiting episodes to figure out that he was having a shunt malfunction.  Unfortunately, the symptoms of a shunt malfunction are:

• Irritability
• Refusal to eat
• Vomiting
• Feeling more sleepy than normal
• Headache

Do you recognize any of these symptoms? Surprise! A shunt malfunction looks like any other three year old's regular old stomach bug. And with Little Man having had only partial blockage in his shunt, his symptoms were coming and going without a pattern of any kind. Not to mention that he could never tell me if he had a headache or not, and at that time in his life he wasn't refusing to eat the way he does now. With so few symptoms, it took a long time to come to the decision to perform brain surgery on him again, which I suppose is both good and bad.


So what makes me bring this up now? Well, Little Man is going through a new fun stage where he likes to see how far he can get his fingers back in his mouth to touch his tongue and his teeth. A couple times, he's made himself gag nearly to the point of vomiting. (YUM!)

Last week I came into his room to get him ready for school and he'd vomited during the night. He was otherwise absolutely fine, and raced downstairs for breakfast before I could say, "hey dude are you okay?"  I decided to chalk it up to the new gagging thing, and after cleaning it up I thought very little about it.

Then yesterday morning I walked in and Little Man was just waking up. He immediately started gagging and threw up two or three times before crawling back in to bed exhausted and sleeping for another two and half hours. Since I watched this one and know it wasn't self-induced, I was pretty panicked. He woke up around 10:30 in a terrific mood and bounced all over the house... and while that might seem like great news, it actually puts a lot more fear into this situation for me and Hubs.

So this is why I worry every time my kid is sick. This is why every stomach bug or sniffle has me on high alert... because we're hoping this isn't the start of another long process. We're hoping this is something normal and kindergarten related. Cross your fingers for us.

Little Man Hates Dentist, Vegas Loves Food

Little Man's dental appointment has been pushed back so many times it's embarrassing.  The first time we tried to take him was over a year ago, and while filling out the medical form I naively added "by the way, he has a shunt" line to the medical issues part.  Turns out with a shunt that they don't clean your teeth without prior approval from a doctor.  Whoops.  So his teeth were counted, looked fine, and I called it a dentist win.  I rescheduled and canceled several times because every time the appointment came up again, I'd forgotten to talk to his neurosurgeon.  After intense prodding from his social worker this summer, I re-re-re-scheduled the visit, only to forget again.  Sensing a theme?  But this time I got on the phone with neurology and got everything taken care of in less than an hour. Except it was 1 hour after his appointment time.  Sigh.

So finally yesterday was the big day!  We got to the dentist, and of course we had been mislabeled as a regular ole kid who can get his teeth cleaned by a nice little old lady.  After a gentle reminder (and 30 minutes), we got a strapping young doctor and strong dental hygienist who could help me pin the kid down while his teeth were cleaned. I still got kicked in the kidney several times, as I was designated "hand-holder". On the bright side, he was given a thumbs up on the clean, straight teeth. Then I was warned that six-year molars are on their way.  Yikes!

We raced back home to get Little Man off to kindergarten, which meant Vegas skipped lunch while Little Man ate a danish in the car. Mom points for that one, I know. I quickly realized that Vegas was not enjoying watching Little Man eat and not having lunch, but since Vegas is a little on the messy side, I was S.O.L. on what to feed him as we drove. A half-hour of wailing later, I caved and tossed an applesauce squeeze to him in a church parking lot.  I figured, what the hell, he'll either be covered in applesauce or get a bite to eat. Surprisingly enough, he grasped the squeeze and sip solo concept pretty fast, ate the whole thing, and was dying for more.  Two more parking lot pull overs later and he fell asleep as we pulled into Little Man's school.  Of course.

When we got home from dropping off Little Man, Vegas ate a hard boiled egg, 1/4 cup of olives, a cheesestick, and half a mango before passing out again.  That kid can eat!!

Today we are finally off to get the last few issues in my car looked at before I never shop at that dealership again.  I've had so much trouble with them I could scream.  And I have, several times. Wish us luck!

Now What Do We Do For The Rest Of Summer?

Little Man had his last day of summer camp yesterday.  I was thrilled at the idea of getting a few extra minutes of sleep in the morning, but then reality set in - the kids wake up whether there is camp or not!  My alarm didn't go off this morning, but I still woke up at 7:15 on the dot to get everyone downstairs and our day started.

We only have two weeks until school starts, but I am not really looking forward to the weekdays. I know I won't get nearly as much done during the day. I also know that too much contact between Little Man and Vegas gives Little Man a case of the "ohmygodshutthatkidup".  Especially now that Vegas can babble and follow Little Man all around the house.  I don't know who to feel sorry for - the big kid who needs quiet and alone time without being overstimulated by a squealing toddler, or the little kid who thinks everything his big brother does is awesome and he wants to be right next to him all day long.

Speaking of toddler, Vegas is almost one year old!  Just in the last few weeks he's been making physical leaps - he now uses his Thomas train as a walker to toddle all over the house, stands alone for a few minutes at a time, and has mastered the sippy cup!  I found out the last one when I heard the familiar sound of milk being tugged out of a sippy, and realized it was Vegas taking a big gulp out of Little Man's milk cup. Whoops.  So yesterday we started weaning him off formula and I don't think there is going to be a problem there at all.  He loves his nighttime bottle, but I think that is more of a comfort thing than a nourishment at this point.  He eats so much food now too, and he has no dislikes yet - so his diet is pretty varied and healthy. I've also felt pretty strongly throughout his babyhood that I would let him help guide me in what he was ready to eat and how much he'd like - no rushing him into solids and when he was hungry, we'd eat.  He really preferred/could best handle purees for the longest time and just now has started being able to swallow and tolerate firmer chunks of food. I feel like we've gone from 0-60 in food options overnight!!!  Yesterday for dinner he had avocado, banana, broccoli, carrots, lima beans, and rice cakes and a half cup of water!

This was after a nectarine massacre.
Did you know it is really hard to peel a nectarine?!

Last month we found a sweet portrait deal online for a 16x16 gallery canvas and 40% off any additional sheets of photos for only $16.  So we scheduled some first year photos for Vegas, since Little Man is... less than enthusiastic about photo shoots (plus he will get school photos in a few weeks).  On the other hand, Vegas is always serious and contemplative when in a new place, so it was still really tough to get some smiles and poses out of him.  But we persevered and got several cute shots of him that should be here just in time for his giant birthday bash!! I can't wait to show them off -I'm such a proud momma.

A photo of the website storing previews of photos.
I'm so tech savvy.
 

We had arranged for the end of the photo shoot to be a cake smash. Vegas was not at all amused. He was very grossed out by the idea of smashing his hands into cake, and just tried to run away the entire time.  I tried to "help" by placing his hands in the cake and swiping some frosting on his lip.  No dice - now he was just dirty and trying to run away. Oh well - we've got another chance for cake photos at his party.  Little Man was such a pro at his cake smash, I think I got spoiled.

He was seriously the cutest cake smasher I've ever seen.

And that about wraps up the last couple of weeks.  Vegas' eczema cleared up with the medicated cream they gave us.  I was diagnosed with TMJ six minutes after walking into the ENT's office.  Little Man has been healthy and has the best suntan out of all of us - he looks like a little Coppertone baby commercial.  Camp kept him outside and wore him out every day, and I think it was a great experience for him.

Time to get back to organized chaos...

Someone Said The Magic Words!

Parenthood 102: A Lesson In Humility. When things are going smoothly, you can count on disaster striking quickly to put you in your place. It doesn't have to be an epic disaster, or even anything you can't bounce back from in a couple hours or days - but it always arrives right after that secret little thought you have. You know the one.  "Everything is going so well right now..."  Even if you're smart enough to not say the words out loud, just thinking them is a challenge to the powers that be, and they don't take kindly to challenges...

It started slow. I thought the words and then suddenly Vegas was waking up more during the night. Nothing we couldn't handle, and his wake ups are normally of the put-the-binky-back-in-and-lay-him-back-down variety.  But then the wakeups segued into harder-to-put-to-sleeps, nap-skipping, and a couple wake-up-screaming-until-you-rock-or-feed-me-back-to-sleeps.  We've attributed it to teething, since the poor kid is drooling worse than a St. Bernard right now, and four teeth seem to be poking through on top. Again, nothing major, but a little more exhausting than normal.  I thought the words again.

Then yesterday the little patches of eczema on Vegas' feet started morphing into little red blisters. We had a follow-up appointment to measure his head circumference again that morning (he still has a large head), and while he was cleared for that particular issue (whew!), the blisters had his ped worried. He wanted us to see a dermatologist "sooner rather than later", and so we squeezed in a time slot the next morning.  That of course meant that we had to split up, with Hubs taking Little Man to his therapy up north two hours away, and I would take Vegas to the dermatologist. Stressful, again, but we've got this.  Right?  I thought the words again, albeit a little less confidently.

I noticed as I was driving home from the checkup that my ear was starting to ache. The closer I got to home the more it felt like a giant needle stabbing me.  I got Vegas inside and waited for Hubs and Little Man to get home from camp and downed a glass of water and one of the giant ibuprofen left over from pregnancy recovery.  The pain seemed to dull a little so we decided to go ahead with our dinner plans and popped over to our friend's house for the night.  

As one of our friends put it - "Hanging out with friends changes so much as we get older." There was the usual wine and pizza we've loved for the last ten years, but really the evening was filled with relaxing and playing with all the kids.  Little Man was in rare form and managed to spill applesauce and red wine on two separate friends, and steal an unattended slice of pizza from a third - all while in complete control of the television. No one seemed too mad, but it was one of those parenting moments where I just wanted to face-palm and hide. Luckily Vegas was his usual serious but cuddly self, and so I used him as a distraction.  My ear started to hurt again though so I popped a few extra strength aspirin and drank half a bottle of wine. Self-medicating works, don't let anyone tell you otherwise.  I dimly thought the words for the last time as I dozed a little on the way home, with my kids sleeping peacefully in the back of my newish van.  

We got home around 11 and tossed the kids in bed before passing out.  At 3:30 AM, my ear pain woke me up from a deep sleep. After tossing back another ibuprofen, I realized quickly that this ear pain was going from bad to absolutely intolerable, and we called my mother-in-law over to watch the kids so I could go to the ER.  Yep, it was that kind of bad.

Got checked in and out in a flash, they couldn't see anything wrong with my ear but I got an antibiotic and a prescription for (surprise!) ibuprofen. Also an appointment to see an ENT on Monday, enjoy the weekend! Before I left they offered me a stronger painkiller for the road, so Hubs decided to cancel the Little Man's appointment so I could take that and pass out for the day while he took care of Vegas' derm appointment. Can I get an amen for an amazing husband?

Vegas' appointment, as relayed from the Hubs, wasn't too scary.  They took a culture of his ankle rash and threw around a couple ideas for what it could be - but no diagnosis yet.  He has to take bleach baths once a day and has a prescription lotion for now, and a followup appointment in a week.  She did mention that he will probably have a chronic skin condition with flareups for the foreseeable future, since he's had the eczema for so long.  Sigh.  Keep us in your prayers that the culture comes back boring and quickly curable!

And to round it all out, Little Man has had an upset stomach all day, my ear still hurts despite the medicine (although not ER worthy pain) and now there is some neck and shoulder pain involved, and next week Hubs is out of town again while all the followups and appointments and summer camp are still happening!

Repeat after me: I will never even think the phrase "Everything is going so well right now", ever again.

Next class?
Parenting 103: Why Do My Children Sleep Best In A Carseat As We Pull Into The Driveway?

Just Being "Normal"

I am nervous to write the words down - but things are going suspiciously great right now.

LIFE IS GOOD!

Well enough that I feel good writing about it without worrying I'll jinx it somehow.  Little Man comes home from school every day nice and exhausted and ready to relax with us.  We've gotten into a great routine where he walks over to the dinner table when he gets hungry and we sit down to dinner together.  He goes to bed by 9:30 and stays in his room semi-quietly until we get up together for a bath before school at 7:30 in the morning. We've manufactured a new duct-tape belt and anklet set that prevents diaper removal that has been working for over a month.  He's progressed in his usage of the iPad to make some choices with food or television.  He's been more affectionate and open with us and his extended family.

Super fancy duct tape system.  And serious bed-head.

The only thing out of the norm we've done recently has been a "quick" (Hahah- with travel it was a 6 hour day) appointment for a baseline MRI for Little Man. His neurosurgeon assured me that Little Man wouldn't need sedation for the procedure, and I assured him that if he thought he'd get Little Man sitting still for ten minutes that he was batshit crazy.  We were both wrong I guess, because Little Man did manage to get his MRI done without sedation, he just needed Hubs laying across his chest in the machine with him. Which sounds like it would be really stressful and scary, and maybe it was - but Hubs took it like a champ and said it "wasn't that bad".  He did admit that stuffing two people in an MRI machine, one of those people wiggling and screaming bloody murder, was possibly a little claustrophobic.  Still, better than we expected for sure.

My big kid, looking little for a moment.

After the MRI was an appointment with his surgeon turn back on the shunt.  I didn't realize that they technically don't turn it off before the MRI starts, they just adjust it afterwards since the machine changes the magnetic setting of his shunt. The appointment was quick and easy, although when the doctor read the MRI he said that Little Man's baseline still shows more fluid than normal around his brain.  Basically his new MRI looked very similar to the one he had during his shunt failure in 2011, which was a little disconcerting to me. The doctor didn't seem overly concerned but he did tell us that if the shunt failed again there would be no real way to tell unless Little Man displayed symptoms (ie; another year of nightly vomiting episodes).  Of course, that morning before the MRI we'd noticed Little Man's breath was a little gross, and he spent the weekend afterwards being sick and pukey, so we're on high alert wondering if everything is okay with his shunt.  But he went to school today and seems to be on the upswing, so I think it might have just been a bug.  *Crossing fingers*

Doesn't that sound like life is totally normal and great?   I guess maybe my baseline for what is normal might also be a little skewed.   But the MRI was genuinely nothing but an expensive and fancy checkup, because things are going *deep breath and holding* really well.

Not to be left out, Baby Vegas is also doing fabulous.  He's been eating two or three meals of puree a day now, and loves him some puffs and rice crackers.  He doesn't crawl anywhere, he usually scoots on his butt until he reaches whatever he wants - which lately is the laptop cord or the television remote.  During the time Little Man is at school we watch our two favorite shows, The Daily Show and Colbert Report, and then turn off the tv for a long morning nap.  After we wake up we just hang out and play quietly together all day long. His face just lights up whenever he sees his Daddy come home from work or hears him on the phone, and he definitely has him wrapped around his chubby little finger.  He rarely cries or fusses, and I only know he's teething because he has had the worst runny nose for the last few weeks. Oh and the two teeth that have shown up!   He sleeps through the night from 9:30 to 7:30, every so often having a night where he wakes up and fusses for his pacifier to be put back in. It has been a marvelously normal and average babyhood so far for this little guy, and I'm loving every minute of it.  I love being home with him, watching him grow and learn. I love being the Mommy to two amazing little boys. 

Shopping, everyone does it.

Yes - Life is (our) normal.  We're doing great.  I'm trying to enjoy this time without worrying that the other shoe is going to drop and things will go back to crazy.  But if you'll excuse me, I have no time to worry right now, it's naptime over here!

Just keep stimming, just keep stimming... what do we do we STIM and STIM

If you aren't too familiar with the special needs lingo, "stimming" is short for self-stimulatory behavior.  It is seem a lot in autistic kids - the flapping of hands, rocking back and forth, spinning around...  The list is endless.  Technically most of us running around this planet stim in our own way, maybe you twirl your hair or jiggle your leg under the table when you're anxious (that's the one I do that drives my godmom crazy!).  The difference is that most of the time when we notice ourselves doing these things we can and will stop them. Kids like Little Man don't have that "off" switch to stop stimming and so... they don't.  They can stim all day long and since it feels great, they see no earthly reason to stop just because we say - hey, watching you do that is driving me insane and/or is a terrible idea!

I've written about a few of Little Man's stims before, but as he grows and changes so do his stims.  For a long time he loved to rock and bounce.  He still occasionally does the jumping on the couch but as he's gotten bigger I think the pillows aren't at the right height for his head any more and so he has really cut back on that particular stim.  One of his more difficult ones to control was when he liked to put his hands to his throat and hum, sometimes pinching the skin of his neck while he did it.  I'm very happy to say that after approximately 10,000 times of us saying "Little Man, NO HANDS!" and redirecting him to other choices - he no longer does this particular stim.  HURRAY!   He has moved on to constantly having his hands on his ears, not a stim really, he just avoids paying any attention to us or the noises around him this way.  But with his hands on his ears he doesn't have time to hum and pinch.

His newest obsession is the green music button on Vegas' exersaucer or the button on Vegas' bear-toy learning thing (obviously I am a pro at describing children's toys).  As far as stims go it's pretty benign. It's just annoying. as. crap.  Every five seconds you hear the horrible screech of some sort of Chuckie child singing "I AM A BEAR A HUNGRY BEAR A HAPPY BEAR A SLEEPY BEAR"... And eventually after a few hours my eye starts to twitch and I get really pleasant to my husband.  So we turn off the exersaucer and hide the bear, and Vegas' gets the short end of the stick on having cool musical toys because his brother steals them and makes them unbearable for the rest of us.

We have a big basket of Vegas' toys that I can take out for him to play with during the day and hide when Little Man gets home.  It's the only way to prevent Vegas' toys from being chewed up and spit out, literally.  I accidentally left out a set of those teether car keys and when I found them an hour after Little Man had gotten hold of them they were completely destroyed.  *Sigh* Chewing is still Little Man's biggest sensory thrill.  He tears the crap out of board books and chewy tubes and pillows and window ledges and ... really anything that is within biting distance.  Surprisingly he still has pretty nice looking teeth, but we'll see when he starts getting permanent ones...

I leave you with an outtake of a photo I took of the boys "playing" together (also known as, 'How many times can I press the button until Mom moves me away from the toy?').  I call this outtake "Lemme See Those Teef!"

An Average Birthday

I wasn't expecting much out of my birthday this year.  It fell on a Monday, and that just seemed gloomy already. Being an adult means doing stupid adult things on your birthday too, so I scheduled a well-visit for Little Man knowing full well I'd have to bring Vegas along for the ride. But I honestly wasn't expecting the day to be as chaotic as it was...

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We wake up bright and early - Vegas had gone to bed an hour earlier so he is up and ready to play at 6:30 AM.  Little Man is also up and had a late night diaper so he gets tossed into the tub for a morning swim.  By the time he leaves for school at 8:30, he has managed to exhaust himself with a 20 minute tantrum while waiting for the bus.  I just keep wiping the tears and his nose with a towel and waving to the cars as they pass our driveway.  I toss him to the bus para with a cheery "Someone has a case of the Mondays!" and think that was that.

We are out of breakfast food so I scarf down a fruit cup and 1/4 cup of coffee while I give Vegas his bath.  Then it is time to call Medicaid to make sure Little Man is cleared for his visit.  56 minutes of beautiful elevator music later, I am told that I called the wrong number, and to try another.  Efffffff.  But hey, I manage to put together a pot roast for dinner that night while on hold!

Of course then I realize that I am going out to dinner with my mother that night. Pot roast is already cooking.  Oh well.  I guess Tuesday's dinner is done.

Then I finally reach the proper number for Little Man's health insurance.  I didn't need to call them. I throw the phone in disgust.  Thank you Otterbox for your brilliant phone-saving design.

I play some phone tag with mother and Hubs to set up birthday dinner.  Already so exhausted I don't feel like going out that evening. But it's my goddamn birthday.  Plans are made.

My turn for a shower.  Then I have just enough time to do the dishes before I gather up Vegas and a bag full of necessities to pick up Little Man from school.

Little Man is waiting for me in the office, half-asleep with dark circles under his eyes. He falls asleep the minute we get in the car.  Then I realize I've given us too much time to get from the school to the doctor.  I decide that dieting isn't as important as I thought.  I scarf down a 'lunch' of fries hoping that Little Man won't wake up and demand half of them.

I strap Vegas in his Ergo and Little Man in the too-small umbrella stroller.  The diaper bag of snacks and DVDs goes on my shoulder. I have to tilt the stroller so Little Man is lying flat and he won't drag his feet on the ground and tip out. I drop both the diaper bag and Little Man's shoes on the way in to the office. Twice.

I race into the doctor's office.  Little Man is transferring to Vegas' pediatrician for my sanity and to put less mileage on our cars.  His former pediatrician was in the city 2 1/2 hours away.  I could never get in touch with her, not to mention that "dropping in" for a quick visit was never possible.

New Doc refuses to care for Little Man without approval from Old Doc.  I calmly explain that Old Doc is missing, presumed dead (or transferred to her specialty, going to a clinic meant they were just biding time til they left to make the big bucks).  Frazzled and confused secretary then suggests that maybe I can call them to transfer records?  Of course when I set up this appointment 2 months ago, I was told to "just bring an insurance card and the patient."  I don't have their number in my phone.  Maybe I can call the school for his records, since they have a copy too?  As I pull out my phone to look up the number, it dies. Phone revenge. Hubs has misplaced my car-charger so it is dead until I get home in several hours.  Little Man will not be seen today, sorry.

I decide this visit will not be in vain.  After some shuffling, Vegas can be seen today, and Little Man will take his appointment tomorrow.  Brilliant.  I just have to pick him up early from school again, and repeat this part of the day tomorrow. I am tired just thinking about it.

Our visit is pretty routine. Vegas has a horrible eczema patch on his face that has been bugging him for several days.  If by bugging him, I just have been avoiding taking photos of that side of his face, while he continues to be the world's happiest baby.  Doc wants that taken care of with steroid cream, which I inform him will not be happening. He seems displeased but I don't have the time to care. We breeze through immunizations and then an extra head measurement, because of my paranoia.  Each time he goes in for a well-visit both the doctor and the nurse measure his head, because of Little Man's medical history.  They think I'm neurotic, but I don't really care.  

Suddenly he informs me that Vegas' head is now "too big".  It used to be on the smaller side, then it was average, and now it is above-average on the growth charts.  Good ole' Doc is slightly absentminded, and he doesn't remember why I like the extra head measurements, so as he is saying this I am running through scenarios in my head.  He lists off a bunch of things that a big head might mean, from the mundane to the H-word, and what to look for in Vegas.  When I mention Little Man's history again, he whips out his tape measure and starts comparing my head to Vegas'.  He measures Vegas' head again too. My head is average sized, his head is still above-average.  Now I am instructed to take the tape measure home and hope that Hubs has a huge head.

I hold it together until we're home, and then I bawl.  Baby Vegas is practically perfect in every way.  He is alert, happy, reaching his milestones, and really freakin' cute.  I cannot imagine there is something wrong with him.  I know in my heart that whatever could be wrong, it isn't Little Man all over again.  It would be different.  Right?  I allow myself some time to freak out until Hubs gets home from work and I tell the story to him.  To him, I remain calm and slightly detached and try to think positive thoughts.  I don't know if it works so well, but there is no time to dwell on it, because we have 30 minutes to get the kids in the car to go to BIRTHDAY DINNER.

I have sangria.  I get a new kitchen appliance. Things start to look a little brighter.  I have a second sangria and some coconut cream pie and things are downright cheery.  Little Man is polite during dinner because there is a loaf of bread on the table.  Vegas sleeps through the entire meal because his shots wore him out. Then we cuddle him and coo over how adorable he is through dessert, and Little Man watches his portable DVD player with his eyes half-shut holding onto Hubs' arm like a pillow.

My birthday is over, and I couldn't be happier to crawl into bed that night.

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In the grand scheme of things, it wasn't the worst birthday in the world.  The time my mother scheduled my wisdom tooth removal the morning after my 21st was definitely worse.  The year I was grounded and missed seeing 'Titanic' with the rest of my friends was emotionally devastating (until I was un-grounded and saw it the week after).  This year I guess it just didn't live up to the hype of being a special day 'just for me'.  Which is the moral of parent/adulthood I suppose - it's not all about you all the time, even when you think it's gonna be all about you.  

On the bright side, I did manage to celebrate the weekend before my birthday with some great friends, and the weekend of the 18th I will celebrate with my sorority sisters and family! My phone and Facebook were filled with amazing people wishing me well and keeping me positive! Things also fell into place the next day which made the day before seem less intense.  Instead of trying to do the doctor's appointment with both kids in tow, my brother-in-law watched the baby while I took care of Little Man.  Then Hubs took care of the house and kids while I went to play practice and had my "me-time".  We even had dinner already prepared because of the pot roast from the day before!

At Little Man's appointment (which was uneventful, for a nice change of pace) we found out that Hubs' head is also average and so if at Vegas' next monthly checkup things don't look more average, he will go see a specialist at Children's Hospital.  While the doctor didn't give me a resounding "things will be fine", he also assured me that Vegas doesn't seem to exhibit any symptoms of neurological problems and this is just a precaution.

So Happy Birthday to me!  The only present I want is a kid with an average sized head.  Send me your good karma, and I'll put it towards a good cause. I'm staying away from Google and WebMD for the next few weeks, and going to relax and enjoy my amazing little guy.

My Postpartum Body and Mind

I think it is important to pick up my story shortly after I left off - the delivery room minutes after Baby Vegas was whisked away to the warmer to be cleaned and measured.  I don't think I could properly explain how different I feel after this pregnancy and delivery if I didn't describe my journey post-birth day.  Warning: A few medical details.  Nothing gory, but I do discuss boob-milk.  Your call.

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I watched them take Baby Vegas over to the warmer after Hubs cut the cord and the nurse encouraged him to whisper to the baby his full name for the first time, which I thought was kind of sweet.  Then came the hard part where I had to watch everyone coo over the baby while I got fixed up.  My doctor was very efficient and spent a good half-hour putting everything back in its place, and she let me know that the "damage" was not nearly as bad as last time so hopefully I would feel much better faster.  I had figured as much because she had taken much more care with me during labor, encouraging me to take it easy and not rush the baby out.

Watching Hubs and the grandmas hover around the baby while I was being worked on was so hard.  I wanted to grab him out of the warmer and snuggle him more... drink in the first moments of being his mommy.  But another part of me was terrified that during these first moments they would discover something wrong with him they'd missed in all the ultrasounds and tests.  My anxiety was through the roof and I just wanted to hear that everything was going to be fine.  My angel of a nurse stayed with me and kept talking me through the tears and encouraging me the entire time.  I could not have gotten through that first hour without her support.  It was a totally different than the support than Hubs was giving - but he wasn't actually capable of showing me that support.  I wanted that medical opinion, that voice of someone who had delivered dozens of healthy babies assuring me that this was no different than any other delivery and baby.  So even though Hubs would try to come over and reassure me, I kept shooing him back over to the baby and asking the nurse more questions.  I would assume that my nurse's support was something like what a doula or midwife would give, and it makes me want to look into that for future labors - I can't count on being that lucky twice!!

Eventually I got our baby back, and my family and friends all left for the night (err... early morning). I guess sometime during my labor the entire post-partum wing had filled up with mommies and babies, and we got shuffled to the overflow wing.  Worst. Room. Ever.  Instead of the lovely couches and rockers they'd showed us on the tour, we were shoved into a tiny closet of a room with an armchair that had seen better days and a few crappy chairs.  My nurses call button did not connect to the L&D nurse's station because I was in the men's surgery wing, and so it took forever and a phone call for me to even see a nurse.  It was a miserable little room, and poor Hubs woke up in the middle of the night and his back was so contorted from sleeping on the armchair bed that he couldn't even walk.  So here I was, less than 12 hours after giving birth and squeezing over on my bed to make room for Hubby to lay down next to me so he could get a little sleep.  Yeah, someone inform him of how many points I should have earned for THAT one!

We kept the baby in the room with us because I was determined to try breastfeeding.  I wasn't getting him to latch and the lactation consultants weren't at the hospital, so it was really frustrating.  Baby Vegas was so frantic when he'd try to attach that it was alarming to watch, and made me feel like he was starving (Yes, I know he wasn't, but it made me stressed out]. [Sidenote: That is still how he is before he eats, it is just part of his personality.]  We got a pump at the hospital and I decided I would exclusively pump like I had with Little Man.  A little more work, but still the same good antibodies in the boob-juice which is all I cared about.

You're allowed 48 hours after delivery in the hospital per insurance reasons, but by the end of the day we realized that we needed to get home to a real bed and also our Little Man.  So we checked out early and we were home when Baby Vegas was a mere 30 hours old.  We scored 3 packs of diapers, 20 bottles of formula, breast pump supplies, and a couple shirts for the little guy.  Then I got a ton of supplies for aftercare, my favorite being the icy pads - such a lifesaver.  Basically anything not nailed down in the room came home too... seriously, we were a little bitter.

When I got home I felt like I had this huge burst of energy, and was able to walk around and clean up and unpack a little.  Hubs' family came over and we all toasted with champagne (glorious!).  Everything was peachy, til I was late with a dose of my ibuprofen and I thought I would die.  The pain and the cold shakes were awful reminders that I had a baby less than 48 hours ago, and needed to slow down!!  Other than that one bad incident though, I was able to pretty much function as normal. I took medicine for the first week or two very regularly, and then tapered it off.

Pumping went well at first.  I was taking fenugreek, which is an herbal supplement that increases your milk supply.  It really helped me produce plenty of milk, but after three weeks of constant pain from rock-hard engorged breasts and clogged milk ducts I just had to stop taking it.  Pumping round the clock and being in so much boob-pain wasn't working for me.  So one night I skipped a dose, and it was like I had shut off a faucet - I went from getting 12+ ounces at a time to getting less than 2 ounces after a half an hour of pumping.  I was so disappointed that I couldn't maintain a supply on my own, but after several days of trying to bring it back up I decided it was time to stop pumping.  Of course, then my one boob decided it was time to leak constantly for a full day.  I put cabbage leaves on it (weird, I know) and it stopped leaking pretty shortly after that.  Between the daily pumping and what I had saved up in the freezer, we made it to 4 weeks before we switched to formula.  Considering that I'd really only (mentally) committed to 6 weeks, I was alright with the outcome.

As of 5.5 weeks postpartum, I feel like I am at around 95% now, but it really only took me til 3.5 weeks or so to get to this point.  Compared to Little Man's birth, I felt like I was Superwoman being able to walk around and function so well so quickly.  I am already down most of the pregnancy weight, I have only 3 pounds to go.  I have three stretch marks on my belly which I am curious to watch fade since they are fairly obvious from the front.  The only really lingering issues that actually bug me are that I wake up every night so sweaty and gross, which I've never done in my life.  I am really hoping that my hormones settle down soon so that stops happening.  And then secondly I still probably couldn't ride a bike or a horse or a shark... because after a long day of walking around or hiking through the woods I still get twinges of pain.  So there ya go - that's what its like over here in my body today.  Check back soon for a one-month update on Baby Vegas - hopefully I'll finish it before his 2 month birthday!!

Is It Really Almost June?!

I can't believe June is about to arrive!  My third trimester is finally here and I'm waist-deep in preparations for Baby Vegas to make his appearance on the scene.  We've finished almost all of the To-Do List of things I wanted to accomplish before I get too pregnant to be of any help - the last big push will probably be this upcoming weekend when we clear out the old guest room.  Once that is done we get to paint and turn it into the nursery, so I cannot wait to finish up!!!  We got a 6' tall tree decal that is going to go on the wall, plus a few other decorations that will make our "Giving Tree" themed nursery really adorable.  Pinterest and Etsy are giving me a ton of ideas that I want to try too... but both of those sites are dangerous to anyone on a budget!  I want to buy all the things.

In the midst of the organizing, we took Little Man up north to an appointment with a sleep clinic.  Hubs and I both went into the day with high hopes, and we both left more than a little disappointed.  Basically we spent two hours retelling a behavioral psychiatrist and then a neurologist Little Man's entire medical history and sleep habits.  Then they both came back with all of the usual ideas that we've tried, tested, and had fail on us.  The only real information we got out of the day was that it might be a good idea to try melatonin after all, and that Little Man snores because he has slightly enlarged tonsils.   And really the screaming and kicking involved in finding the latter out was definitely not worth it.

Blurry cellphone photo of me and Little Man on the train for "Day Out With Thomas"  I'd have written about the day, but he was sick and grumpy.

I also ended up not auditioning for a show I really was hoping to audition for.  I had convinced myself up until last week that I could totally handle being pregnant and rehearsing for a show that would open less than a month after my due date.  Every single person I talked to about it seemed to think I was insane (perhaps a clue?), but I was sure I would be just fine - how hard would it be?!?!  Well then a few days before auditions I ended up getting the worst round ligament pains I've ever felt.  They were bad enough that even trying to stand up straight left me completely breathless.  I knew it was probably because I'd been running around like a madwoman trying to finish household projects and not taking the time to rest and hydrate like I normally do.  So I reluctantly admitted to Hubs that I can't do everything and that I would skip this one.  I was so bummed out and grouchy for the entire weekend thinking about missing out on yet another show, but in the end I know it was for the best.  Making a selfish decision would have felt great in the short term, but come August when the baby arrived I knew I'd be kicking myself for not setting aside more time for our home and family.  I'm still working on squelching the green-eyed monster feeling I have going on as people talk about how much fun it will be working on shows all summer.  I think it will be easier once I get a little rounder and unable to move without groaning - then I'll be so glad I don't have to leave the house I'll probably laugh if you remind me about how I was upset about not being able to rehearse three days a week in the heat of the summer!!

Until then though the next few weekends will be insanely busy - we have plans at least one day every weekend until July!  I can't wait to spend time in this beautiful weather with my friends and family.  I was a little worried that we'd have nothing to do on the weekends since a lot of our summer weekends usually revolve around concerts and wine festivals that aren't especially pregnant-lady friendly, but I should have known better.  Just because I can't party like a rockstar doesn't mean I won't be partying at all!

Before heading out to a pool party to kick off the summer!