Saturday, December 29, 2012

Saturday, December 1, 2012

This is what we do

Some "Friday Night Fun" over the last few months:

Dinner party:
Pillow party:
 
Grilled cheese animals!
Glitter bottle:
Arts and crafts:
Happy mexican pizza:
Cooking:
And cleaning:
Cuppy cakes:
Toddler Tree:

Saturday, October 6, 2012

Monday, September 24, 2012

Magdalene Grace King, stillborn 9/19/12

On Friday, September 14, I went to my normal baby appointment. Actually, I was having the glucose diabetes test done, so I got A and myself up, drank the orange sugar drink, dropped A off at school (I'll admit I let her taste it, since she was watching me chug it), and made it on time to my 8:15 appointment. I saw Dr. Harrison that morning, no big deal. But I told him how big I felt, how i ached, just how different this pregnancy was--I felt Baby Maggie move, just less than with Adria. We even made a joke, that doesn't mean she'll be any less active when she comes out! But when he measured me, I really was big--measuring 32 cm at 27 weeks. 5 cm ahead. He sent me in for an ultrasound, and I felt like a kid at Christmas--an extra ultrasound! The tech looked at all sorts of things, and I was quiet, not knowing what she was looking at, just watching the screen myself. And there she was! There was my beautiful strong Baby Maggie!

I finally asked her what she saw, and she mentioned the pockets of fluid before she excused herself to go get Dr. Harrison. He came in and right away just by looking said that Maggie was a very sick baby. She had ALL this fluid throughout her body, in her abdomen, on her lungs, swelling in her head. And she was swimming in huge pockets of amniotic fluid, which is why I didn't feel her so much. She was in there! She was moving! But she was sick. Dr. Harrison said he was sending me to a perinatal specialist as soon as possible, and they booked me an appointment at 10 a.m. I called mom and dad and told them to come. And I called Jason and Brandy and told them to meet me at the specialist's office.

By 10 the 3 of us were back in a little room for another sonogram, so powerful we were able to see Maggie's BEAUTIFUL face, and she waved at us with each of her perfect little hands. (I'll admit I counted right then--5 sweet fingers on each little hand.) But the doctor confirmed--a sick little baby. Hydrops fetalis, all that fluid was caused by a cardiomyopathy, a problem with her heart. Jason almost threw up in their trash can. Brandy just held my hand when he stepped away with her hot, 35 weeks pregnant hand. And we all cried together.

But they sent me straight on to the hospital for further monitoring. They hooked me up for both fetal heartbeat monitoring, and it began to look like I was having contractions. Perhaps what I thought were little baby movements were Braxton Hicks. Her heartbeat rose to 180, and would sometimes dive to 100, but usually stabilized around 160 or so. It was scary to watch it fluctuate. Mom and dad joined Jason, Brandy and me, and Jason's mom and dad did too. It was a busy and full room. A baby cardiologist came to consult and did another sonogram, and was able to tell us more about her heart. The muscle was too thick, it could pump blood OUT (diastolic pressure) well, but it couldn't relax and take blood back in (systolic pressure). It looked fine in form, but at almost 28 weeks was bigger than a baby's at 40 weeks. There wasn't anything to be done--it was just a sick heart.

They talked to us about what might happen. If Maggie came early, at 28 weeks she'd have enough of a battle on her hands. With a heart problem, and with the fluid essentially stunting the growth of the rest of her organs, she wouldn't survive. But if she stayed inside, she was sick enough she still might not make it. My only hope was that she stayed inside, alive, long enough for a miracle. I received a steroid shot for her lungs, would come back the next day for another, and they sent me home, told me not to do anything different. I could even still pick up Adria. Didn't even cut my caffeine.

Jason picked up Adria and brought her home to me and stayed a little bit. Dad took me back to the hospital on Saturday and they gave me another shot. Hooked me up to the monitors just long enough to get a reading on Maggie and me. I asked them what they were listening for and she put it plainly: we're checking to see if you still have a live baby.

I prayed and cried and didn't sleep. I went back to work on Monday. And I made it to see Dr. Lake at 3:15 on Monday afternoon.  I honestly thought he'd measure and I'd have lost fluid weight and my belly would be smaller. I thought we'd just watch and wait and see. But he didn't take me into an exam room. He didn't measure me. He took me for a sonogram and stayed in the room. As the tech did the sonogram, she found my girl.  I could see her there, but there was no heartbeat. I could see her heart. But it was completely still. Not even a flutter. My sweet Baby Maggie was gone.  I would be induced the next morning to deliver my girl. 

How does death and life mingle so? How does one give birth to death? It was horrible. I had an amniocentesis, so at least we'll get some ideas as to how our perfectly made healthy girl got so sick within the 2 weeks since my last appointment. Then Dr. Harrison gave me a 100g dose of cytotec. My body did not want to give that child up. Slowly labor began. Slowly contractions built. I wanted to feel them. Mom, dad, and Jason just sat with me, sometimes talking, while my body began contracting. Hours, only a cm dilation. Not giving that child up. Hours more, the same, but Dr was able to break my water. It was a flood. It was a flood. My stomach shrunk to half, and I could feel her again.

Hours more passed, and around 5 I'd guess, I got an epidural. I didn't want to be groggy. I wanted to feel. But I didn't want to hurt anymore. I didn't like the epidural. I didn't like the iv and chemicals. But I'm glad I got it.

Jason stayed with me and held my hand. I leaned against him while they threaded the epidural into my back. Whenever they did something, he was there. He would have taken my place if he could have.

Dad went to sleep at home. Mom slept on the couch and Jason had brought a sleeping bag and camping mat. I dozed in and out, finally 3 cm, and when it really started hurting the nurse checked me again--"the baby's here." The doctor asked if I could push, and I pushed once. Baby Maggie was born with another flood of water.

They wrapped her right up and gave her right to me. None of the ceremony that had surrounded Adria's birth. They wrapped her up in the blanket I brought for her, and just gave her to me.

It was a little scary--everything about this had been a little scary. But there was this teeny tiny little girl, the size of a baby doll. Her face was beautiful. She was so beautifully made. And she looked so much like Adria. I made that comment, then told Jason that means she looked like him, and he lost it, crying over our girl along with me. I held her, I kissed her, I spoke to her, I was almost afraid to touch her. But I had long promised that girl I would hold her in my arms and give her kisses, and that's what I did. She was so still. So lifeless. So peaceful. So beautiful. There wasn't any confusion that she was gone. I was holding her body, but her spirit had already departed. She was born on Wednesday, September 19, 2012, at 4:38 in the morning. But she'd already been gone since before Monday. The work, the labor, had been for me.

They've brought me Maggie's body back inside the tiniest pink urn, so small it can fit inside your palm. But that's it. She passed like a vapor. She is gone.

I know she is safe and well, I know she is with Jesus, but still I pray, God, won't you tell her she was loved, and she was wanted, she is missed, and won't you tell her about me?

Adria has been my light and my joy. Thank you God for Adria! I couldn't ask for more than she. I know I hit the jackpot with her. Thank you God for giving her to me for a time such as this. I don't know if we even will tell her she won't be getting a baby sister after all. She's done fine with me without us sitting down and making a thing of it. I'm able to hold her again, and she can climb all over me again. She is a happy girl! Thank you God for giving me that share of joy.

Tuesday, September 4, 2012

Oh woah, the sweetest thing

2 really big things are happening in our lives these days.  The first is that I'm expecting our second baby girl, Baby Maggie, due December 9, 2012, and the second is that Jason and I are doing that from 2 different households.  I guess the long and the short of it is that we both thought we could do it better this way. 

Separation, custody issues, juggling schedules, moving on, looking back--it's all just as lonely and depressing as it sounds.  And I just never really expected it.  So going through it makes me have a different sadness and appreciation for those who have walked this hard road.

But nothing made me sadder than our first counseling appointment--not to get back together, but to figure out how to separate well--when our counselor made a well intentioned joke about ping-pong ball children.  Really not that funny. 

But yesterday afternoon, I enjoyed the unexpected delight of keeping Adria an extra afternoon while Jason had to work on Labor Day.  And as we were settling down for her nap, I asked Adria if she wanted to sing to her Baby Maggie in Mommy's belly.  Without any further direction, she sat back on her heels and directed her attention to my stomach as she began to sing in the sweetest almost-two-year old voice, two words: "Don't worry."  She was singing Bob Marley's Three Little Birds (Don't worry about a thing, cause every little thing is gonna be alright) to our Baby Maggie.  And she was singing it to me. 

The single most important thing in the world right now is establishing an emotionally safe and stable, loving, healthy environment for Adria (and soon to be Maggie) to thrive and grow and be happy.  And yesterday afternoon as we were settling down for nap Adria repeated what she's heard from the both of us--don't worry about a thing, cause every little thing is gonna be alright.

Monday, August 27, 2012

I am that mom.

As I was walking into my office building this morning, pocket book, lunch bag, and lanyard door key in tow, it occurred to me that I was also carrying Adria's sippy cup of milk with me.  Which doesn't seem at all unusual to me, but which very well may seem strange to the college students filing into the building with me. 

I am the mom who thinks it's totally normal to use my daughter's leftover milk in my coffee, and that a sippy cup doubles as a totally wonderful travel mug.

I am the mom who discovers that 3 Easter stickers have been placed on my back.  After finishing my shopping and leaving the store.  In August.

But I am the same mom who proudly wears those stickers all day long on purpose (when I know they're there and have been placed appropriately). 

I am the mom with the "mom car", complete with a paper box full of toys, and roll of toilet paper on the emergency break.  Because sometimes emergencies call for a roll of toilet paper.  But I don't have any room for other adults to sit. 

I am the mom who digs past a pull-up and plastic piggy to get to my lipstick or wallet in my pocket book. 

I am the mom with a messy shoulder because my toddler wipes her face on my shirt when I hold her.  But I will not quit holding her. 

And I am the mom who takes fashion advice from my almost-2-year-old, but can't get her to put her pants on.  (Because her "ooh, pretty" trumps InStyle magazine any day.)

Yeah.  I am the mom of a toddler.  Beautiful!  Vibrant!  Healthy!  Yeah, I am that mom.  :)

Monday, August 13, 2012

Letter to my baby

My dearest Adria,
You turned 22 months old over the weekend, and when I thought of it my breath caught in my chest. You are so lovely, so smart, so fun, growing so well--and so fast.

I am beyond proud of you. You are exceptional a being one and a half, a happy, affectionate, wonderful toddler. And you completely steal my heart.

We're working on a lot of things around here--potty training, sleeping all by yourself in your big girl bed, going between mommy's house and daddy's house, watching Mommy's tummy grow and getting used to the idea of a baby sister, all the while making friends with Avery and Cameron at school and talking up a storm. It strikes me as odd that I'm intentionally training you NOT to need me in the middle of the night when you wake up. I should hold onto every moment you want to hold onto me! But with your soft blue eyes, warm hugs, blonde pigtails and beautiful smile, you are growing up before my very eyes.

You are a delight and such a source of joy and life for both me and your daddy. We both love you impossibly much, and want to spend our time with you. You were a precious gift in my life and in our family when you were born, and you are a blessing and a gift in my life and in our family now.
Two things I want to say in closing to the both of us-- in these days, and for our futures: don't worry about a thing, cause every little thing is gonna be alright. And we will always be there for each other, you and me. Even when your little sister joins us, even if you move to another continent. I will always be your mama, such a privilege and honor for me, and I promise always a source of love and a heart for your good, for you.

I. Love. You.
Your mama

Sunday, April 15, 2012

My darling 18 month old's vocabulary

Words at 18 months (4/15/12):

Sit down
Birdie
Daddy
Mommy
Hot
Cold
Toes
Bunny
Cup (cuppy)
10. Stop (stop it)
Yeah
Please
Thank you
Down
Up
Dirt
Flower
Eew
No
20. Mine
Out
Socks
Shoes
Duck
Cow
Doggie
Eat
Come
Here
30. Book
Diaper
Cook
Fingers
Eye
Nose
Ear (ear ring)
Hand
Hair
Close
40. Milk
Baby
Hey
Yummy
Ball
Kay (okay)
Tickle
Come
Pee pee
Poop
50. Apple
Hair bow
Truck
Night night
Bye bye
T.V.
Yay
Cat
Stars
Back
60. Block
E-i-e-i-o
Piggy
All done
Thank you
Love you
Uh oh
See
Oh no
Monkey