Friday Find: Paisley Reef Rug

Paisley Reef Rug, Anthropologie, $78 (2x3)

5 Days

Dear Grace,

Today is the fifth day you have been a part of the outside world. You continue to grow and reach milestones daily. I am blessed to be a part of your journey.

Today your Dad got to hold you for the first time. I have never seen him so terrified. The entire time he held you, he was worried. He was concerned for your body temperature and kept watching the temperature on the monitor in your room. I told him that if you were too cold, the nurse would not have allowed him to hold you. He kept trying to cover you up better. Finally, he got so nervous that I had to go get the nurse to put you back in your incubator.

He asked the nurse about your temperature. "It's fine," she said. "The temperature monitor is not even hooked up."

I guess that we are typical nervous first time parents. It is difficult not to think about how fragile you are since you are so small and you have so many cords attached to monitor you.

I wait for the day when we can hold you without the help of the nurse. I want to be able to sit and rock you in the chair in your room. Right now, I sit beside you all day. You may not even realize that I am there, but I want to believe that you do. I gaze at you and memorize each of your features. I talk to you and sing to you. I cannot wait for the day when we can bring you home.

Love forever,

Mama

2 Days

Dear Grace,

Today the least anxious person to get out of the hospital was discharged.

Me.

Leaving the hospital without you was the hardest thing I have ever had to do. I was miserable. I stared out into space as the volunteer helped me in the car and we drove away. Then I cried.

The road home looked unfamiliar to me. I was not sure if places had actually changed or just me. It turns out it was me. I was miserable. You are my life now. When you are not with me, everything seems wrong.

I am in physical pain from the surgery now. It will take me a long time to heal because of all the swelling. I am not sure that I recorded it here, but during my last month of pregnancy I gained over 20 pounds. That is more than I had gained in all the months prior put together. I have already lost a lot of the water weight.

My physical appearance is ghostlike, even though I look much better than before you were born. I look like a train hit me directly in the stomach. My arms are a covered with a mixture of deep blue, purple and black bruises. The stretch marks that I tried so hard to avoid by pursing a healthy pregnancy cover my stomach. However, I have made progress. My fingers are now defined again instead of big balloon hands.

Your Dad managed to get me in the house, where I sat around until he was finished with work. Then, we drove back to the hospital to see you.

It may sound strange, but the hospital felt more like home than my home did. Your Dad agrees. He said that his first night spent at home without us just felt wrong. We have learned through this that home is not where you live - it is where your family is.

Our home will not be home until you are home.

Love Forever,

Mama

Connection

Book Releases - February 2009

Releasing this month:

• Child, Lincoln - Terminal Freeze. (2/24)
• Fairstein, Linda - Lethal Legacy. (2/10)
• Moore, Christopher - Fool. (2/10)
• Parker, Robert B. - Night and Day. (2/24)
• Patterson, James - Run for Your Life. (2/2)
• Robb, JD - Promises in Death. (2/24)

1 Day

Dear Grace,

I awoke this morning in a state of disbelief. You are here!

I wanted desperately to come see you. I am so groggy. I cannot shake off the medication that I am on enough to get out of bed.

Hours pass and I am still in a semi-vegetative state. "I want to wake up!" I tell your Dad, your Grandparents and everyone that enters the room. Still, I am so out of it.

Your doctor, Dr. L, came to visit me and update me on you. You are in the "incubator". You are breathing on your own since right after your birth, so you do not require oxygen. You are a little yellow, so they have put you under the light. I cannot wait to see you.

My nurse today is Vicky. She is just the kind of nurse that I need today. She gives me explicit instructions and I try my best to follow directions. Somehow, we got me out of bed and into the shower. Being clean feels so good.

Your Dad walked me very slowly and painfully to the NICU. I had forgotten how beautiful you are. You are so tiny. All the wires and monitors on you are painfully intimidating. I can see how strong you are, though.

You have peach fuzz all over your head. I cannot believe how much hair you have! Since your Dad & I were both bald babies, I am so surprised by that. Your fingers and toes are long. Actually, your whole body is long compared to your gestational age. If you had been full term, you would have been a large baby.

A small part of me is very sad that we had to take you early. It would have been so much easier for you if we could have waited. Now you will spend the first part of your life in the hospital. But, I would not trade these moments with you for anything.

The nurse put you in my arms. No one else is allowed to hold you yet. You are so tiny and fragile, but you are so strong.

I love you very much, my little angel. I love you more with each moment.

Love Forever,

Mama

31 Weeks, 5 Days

Dear Baby Girl,

This morning I ate a piece of toast for breakfast. And so begins the most frighteningly wonderful day of my life.

My blood pressure was still high today and my symptoms were still getting progressively worse. The night nurse got permission to replace my IV last night, and it took five different people (herself, an L&D nurse, another nurse on the floor, a NICU nurse & an oncology nurse) several tries each to run the IV. My veins have become extremely small with all the swelling. That is how we spent the entire night. We knew all of this meant that something would have to change. My condition has become dangerous to both of us.

Dr. B is the doctor on call today. He is a sweet older man with a cheery disposition that reminds me of Santa Claus. He came by first thing this morning. They do not advise doing the magnesium drip again until time for you to be born. So guess what? That will be today!!!

That little piece of toast came back to haunt me. We had to wait for it to digest before we could begin the emergency c-section.

Your Dad began making phone calls. Your Papa (my dad) has been staying with us the last couple of days to help with the dogs and sit with me during the day so your Dad can rest. He was the first to know you were coming. He called your Nana (my mom), and your Dad also called your Grandma (his mom). That began our family's mass exodus from their homes and workplaces to come to the hospital to be present for your birth.

I was moved back to L&D. Sometime during the morning I began to shake severely. My legs were jumping all over the bed and I could do nothing to stop it. I guess knowing you were coming and not having any idea how all of this would work out fried what was left of my nerves.

The nurse started the magnesium drip and the catheter again. This time, I was jumping around in the bed so much that I did not even notice the heat as much as I did before. The catheter seemed like second nature by now.

The NICU doctor came to talk to us. The hospital staff calls him the "Mr. Rogers" of the hospital. He is a really nice guy, and I know that he will be a good doctor to you. He explained what would happen from the point of your delivery to your transition into the NICU. You will spend your first few weeks there, until you get strong enough to come home.

The nurse made the rest of the appropriate calls to set everything up, and we were told that the surgery would be at 1:00PM. Just as we sent your aunt to the waiting room to give the time update, the attendant came to get me prepped for surgery! You would be here even sooner!

My heart pounded out of my chest as the attendant wheeled my bed to the OR. I could not see your Dad, but I found tremendous comfort in feeling his presence following my bed. On arrival, they sent us to a prep room with wall curtains. They began checking me, and they spirited your Dad away to hook him up with the appropriate OR attire. Unfortunately, they decided my IV needle was not big enough. They would have to readdress that in the ER.

The prep seemed to take forever. Dr. B met us there and we got to know the anesthesiologist. Another familiar voice popped around the curtain also - a family friend was working in the OR and stopped in to say Hi. Soon afterward, it was time. Your Dad had to wait outside the OR for a few minutes until they were ready for the surgery to begin.

The OR was not what I expected. (This was my first surgery.) The room was very white and there were lots of big machines. It could almost pass for an old James Bond set, just with more high-tech computer equipment. They moved me to a plank in the center of the room that had folding "boards" to hold my arms in the shape of a cross. Then, the anesthesiologist and another nurse/doctor/somebody took turns in each arm trying to insert the IV. Attempt after attempt failed, and then...

I am going to sidetrack from the story for a second here. When I was little, I got a huge gash on my wrist. I will not go into the details here, but it involves the underside of a car and my accident prone self. Anyway, I have a scar on my wrist. The area around this scar is deemed UNTOUCHABLE. I will not touch it. Your Dad cannot touch it.

So guess where the needle went and took? You guessed it. Right in the middle of my scar in the UNTOUCHABLE zone. And, honestly I did not even blink.

Next, it was time for the spinal. This was another scary thought for me. Dr. B held me up and hugged me. He whispered the play-by-play in my ear of what was happening and what would happen. He distracted me by swapping scar stories (I told him about the wrist) and making funny comments. I could not have asked for a better doctor to do this.

Spinal in place and verified, the surgery began. Your Dad entered the room after they pulled up a curtain to block my view. That curtain kept hitting me in the nose and mouth. The rest of the experience seemed almost out-of-body. It felt like my insides were Jello jiggling all over the place. There was lots of random chatting going on. Lots of beeping from monitors. And then, a sweetly beautiful cry.

You.

The noise of the room faded and tears rose to my eyes. All I could hear was you.

The sound you were making sounded like a short series of "meh". It sounded like a breathtakingly beautiful symphony to me.

At some point, the chatter and beeping resumed in my ears. They called your Dad over with the video camera to capture your experience.

Then, they brought you to me.

I kissed you, and your eyes opened. You are so beautiful.

Then, they wheeled you away up to the NICU. They assured me that you were breathing normally. Your Dad and the video camera got to follow you. Your grandparents coincidentally saw you in the hall on your way to the NICU. The nurses put you on a C-PAT for just a little while. Then, because you were doing so well, they took it off. You are tiny, but you are perfect for your gestational age.

Meanwhile, the OR team finished up with me after an infinity. I went to the recovery area, where I was taken care of by a nurse named Max. (I remember this because of our dog Max.)

Sometime during the OR finish up and the recovery time, I began shaking again. This time, only my arms could shake because my legs were numb.

I waited, waited, waited. Finally, Max said I could go back to postpartum.

The nurse, or maybe it was the doctor, told me that I could not see you again today. My blood pressure was still really high, and I needed to be able to be at least in a wheelchair before I could go to the NICU. I took comfort in knowing that your Dad was with you, and he could take care of you. You had been in my belly for so many months and I had already bonded with you. Now it was his turn, or at least that is how I made peace with the fact that I would have to wait to see you again.

Various relatives began to come in my room to say hello or sit with me. I remember all of this, but I still felt like I was in a trance. I could not sleep, but I was very tired.

Tomorrow, my beautiful Grace, I will get to see you again.

Love forever,

Your Mom

Grace is Here

31 Weeks, 4 Days, PM

Dear Baby Girl,

I am back in the postpartum wing now. I am much more comfortable now. The magnesium drip from last night helped, but my blood pressure is beginning to go back up a little tonight. My swelling has increased. Your Dad says my hands look like those of a 500-pound woman. The swelling is irritating the IV. The nurse will check with the doctor, and they may do something about that later tonight.

I now know that I will not be going home until you are born. We are back to the waiting game again! All the tests have shown such good results for you. My condition has not affected you, but I am not sure how long that will last. My body is failing me. I am sure it sounds very weak of me, but I cannot bear to know that my body is failing you, too. We will know more in the morning.

Love Forever,

Your Mom

31 Weeks, 4 Days, AM

Dear Baby Girl,

I want to give you an honest account of the events leading to your birth, so I will be truthful with you. Last night was the most miserable night of my life. It began with me being angry about staying at the hospital. Don't get me wrong here - I will do anything for you. All I mean is that the nurses were not doing anything that we could not do at home. But, the doctor said I had to stay on.

We have had a lot of visitors, and the doctor suggested that we have no more. I think that seeing people we love probably helped, but I know it was a lot of activity. Now only your Dad and your grandparents are allowed to see me.

My blood pressure would not go down. My arms are so swollen that every time the blood pressure cuff begins to move I grimace. I am sure that does not help the numbers. By the time that Dr. F came to examine me that evening, the top number was over 200 and the bottom number was over 100. So, we had to do a magnesium drip all night. I was moved back to a room in Labor & Delivery.

The ordeal began with a check of my cervix. I am so swollen that I gasped out in pain during the check.

The next step was the IV. I hate needles, and I have a history of passing out. (I hope you will be a lot braver than I am!) When I have had an IV in the past, they would put it on the underside of my elbow. I can semi-tolerate it there. No luck this time. The nurse said it had to go down on my hand. I truly hate IVs.

The magnesium drip is horrible. It gives the sensation of being sitting in a fire out in the midday sun. Plus, it requires a catheter. I had never had a catheter before. I spent several hours with the need to go to the bathroom that I just could not relieve.

Because I was so hot, I threw the covers and sheets off over and over. We had to adjust the room temperature as low as it would go. My skin felt like ice to the touch, but I was so, so hot. This made for a miserable night for your Dad. He is pretty cold-natured, and being in the room with me all night was not fun for him.

On the bright side, the technician came to the room last night and did a "long" ultrasound. You scored a 10/10. Your weight is estimated at 3 pounds, 12 ounces. They put the monitor on my belly to monitor your heart rate again, and it is the one soothing sound in my room.

This morning, we had another ultrasound, and you seemed to try to breathe. The technician had me hold my breath, and then we watched as your tiny lungs continued to work. This is a good sign - the steroid shot is working. You are an amazing little fighter. We will get through this.

It took a really long time for the volunteer to come and wheel me back upstairs after we saw you. So much of the hospital trip and even doctor's visits have been a waiting game. Your Dad was wonderful this morning. I know he was tired. He barely got any sleep with the cold room and the uncomfortable chair bed. He held my head up and I leaned against him throughout the long wait.

I have gone from feeling fine when I checked into the hospital to misery pretty quickly. We are trying to remain strong for you so that no matter what happens, you will be born healthy.

Love Forever,

Your Mom