Archive | May 2017

Two Years

Two years ago today, I was in a hospital bed on day 2 of hopefully many more on bedrest. I was getting frequent visits from my medical team, consisting of nurses, doctors, specialists, maternal fetal medicine, my OB, and two people from the nicu. My OB was hoping to keep Little Miss Minion and I healthy enough to make it to 32 weeks. The maternal fetal medicine specialist (high risk doctor) gave us two weeks in a best case scenario, which would have put us at 30 weeks. I don’t remember who the nicu people were or what their positions in the unit were, but I remember the feeling of panic as they explained all the things they could do if Little Miss Minion had to come early. I remember words like resuscitation, breathing tube, ventilator, developmental delay, and prognosis. I remember thinking that there were an awful lot of people coming in and out of the room during the time the nicu people were with us. 
When Mr Minion went back to our house to grab more clothes and things, since we weren’t expecting me to be admitted the day before, I remember starting to have trouble reading my book. The words weren’t making sense. I read the same paragraph over and over before finally giving up. I sat in my bed, trying to ignore the uncomfortable straps of the monitoring belt wrapped around my stomach. I watched the numbers on my blood pressure readings slowly climb, trying to will them back down. 150/90, 175/95…my prepregnancy readings were usually around 110/70 or lower. One of the nurses came in to check on me and moved the monitor screen to face away from me. With nothing else to look at, I watched the line of the fetal monitoring contraception move. Every jump indicated that Little Miss Minion was doing well, moving around. After a while, the line seemed to be flattening out. I called the nurse, they did a bunch of stuff to try and get Little Miss Minion moving, and nothing worked. They called in an ultrasound team who did a biophysical profile on her. It’s a half hour ultrasound where they count how many times the baby moves and a couple other things. She didn’t move. I watched her heart beat, the only thing that moved on the screen. 

Soon after that, I suspect an urgent  conference of my medical team commenced and a few minutes later, I was on the phone with Mr Minion, who had gotten to the house and wanted to know if I had thought of anything else I wanted. The doctor came in, so I got off the phone. I remember him telling me that my blood pressure wasn’t responding to the magnesium anymore and that Little Miss Minion needed out. Tonight. As soon as they could prep me.
I called Mr Minion and told him. As I hung up, swarms of people poured into the room to get me ready. I continued to call and text people that they were prepping me for surgery and that the baby was coming. And the rest is history. 
Today, I watched my two year old daughter play with bubbles. She ran up and down the hall of our house, played in her sandbox, and drew on an easel with markers. Two years ago, I watched a blue screen descend in front of my face as a team of doctors and nurses saved my life and saved my daughter’s life. I watched as someone held out a tiny, tiny, tiny baby, her head engulfed in a newborn hat that was almost as big as she was, her skin purple and transparent. Everything I had expected was imploding before my eyes. 
Two years ago, our NICU rollercoaster ride began. It started with a stomach churning drop as our one pound, fourteen ounce preemie was brought into the world twelve weeks early. There was another drop over a cliff as she fought off gbs, sepsis, and meningitis. Things smoothed out as we turned the corner of what would be our halfway point. We shot down another towering drop as we found out about her brain damage and hydrocephalus. The subsequent surgery and recovery were bumpy. But then, we could see the exit. Eighty four days after starting this ride, we got off and started the rest of our lives. There are still bumps, potholes, rainy days, and times when we trip and fall. But the important thing is that we get up, dust ourselves off, and KEEP GOING. 
Happy birthday to my daughter, Little Miss Minion. I’m so happy I get to see you grow up. 

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More Mayhem

The last few weeks have been full of Minion Mayhem, but in a good way. Lots of changes and lots to talk about! Where to begin?
A couple weeks ago, we moved into a real house. We had been in a townhouse previously, which was nice enough but didn’t really have a yard or garage and was basically the perfect home for two people, not a family. We had been looking for new houses casually and then got an offer we couldn’t refuse. Mr Minion’s grandfather was moving into a retirement home and gave us a deal for his house. Mr GrandMinion’s house is perfect: there is a garage, which will be nice in the winter since we won’t have to scrape ice and snow off the cars, there is a big front yard and a fenced backyard that Little Miss Minion already loves. We have great neighbors (although we had this at our old house as well). It’s a better school district than what we were in before, and we are looking into some programs they offer for preschoolers. Thank you Mr Grandminion!!!!
Which brings me to my next development: we moved to a neighboring county, which means that Little Miss Minion’s early intervention team has to be changed to people in the new county. It’s looking like her speech therapist will stay the same, but her physical therapist will be someone new and we will have new coordinators. 
And on the note of speech, it’s been a word explosion over here! Objectively, she still isn’t where she “should” be, but she’s getting much closer. At the end of January, she had maybe three true words and several approximations (she would say kee instead of kitty, that sort of thing). Now, she has lots of true words and lots of approximations. Off the top of my head, she says mama, dada, milk, no, table, key, toe, elbow, foot, cat, cow, phone, ball, bubble, outside, poop, get down, light, thank you, and several more. The one word she refuses to say is “please,” but she signs it instead. She knows more words than she will say herself, because if you ask her to bring you (random object), she will grab it and bring it to you. 
Her favorite things to do include playing outside, chasing bubbles, coloring/scribbling/making modern art, and eating. She loves splashing in the bathtub and throwing her clothes into the hamper. She’s happy and cheerful 95% of the time, unless she is tired or hungry. 
She will have her two year old checkup soon, so I’ll have official measurements then, but according to my fancy digital scale, she weighs right around 21-22 pounds. She is growing out of 12 month clothes and into 18 month stuff. 
She also gives the best hugs ever. When I pick her up, she puts her arms around my whole head and squeezes as hard as she can. If I don’t pick her up, she runs at me and doesn’t slow down as she crashes into my legs, arms out to squeeze. It’s adorable. 

May is Preeclampsia Awareness Month!

As frequent readers of this blog will know, my daughter, Little Miss Minion, was born early because I developed severe early onset Preeclampsia. This month is Preeclampsia awareness month, so I will be sharing information about this very important medical condition and how it has affected me and my family. 

Fact: Preeclampsia occurs in 2-8% of all pregnancies.

Fact: preeclampsia and other hypertensive disorders are on of the leading causes of maternal death worldwide.