One of the most amazing things about us people is our resiliency, our ability to heal, and to come back better and stronger.
I have seen the human spirit heal itself over and over and it never ceases to amaze me what strength and courage we all have within us.
We have been gifted the ability to "bounce back" from anything if we choose to. I look to a few friends of mine who have been to the depths of the bottom and eventually return to themselves. My "step-sister" Susan honors her young husband's life, Dan Fritz, after cancer took him from her too young. She carries on each day with courage, grace, and beauty and is an inspiration.
My friend Bobby whose wife was struck with a sudden and life threatening condition that kept him by her bedside day and night until she had a miraculous recovery that brought her home. They moved on from that trauma to have a beautiful baby girl leaving those terrifying moments far behind them.
I watched a co-worker of mine struggle through the loss of his young brother to a major car accident. He too inspired me with his ability to come back from such a loss and go on living his life. He is quoted as saying, "Now I too have a story."
I guess my point is everyone has a story and many more than one. We can not anticipate the joys or struggles life will throw our way but we are inner-wired to handle things as the come. This is where we can find the comfort to live our lives to the fullest each day.
Of course, my story is Eric. My recovery from total take-down and weakness took only time and now I am strong enough to enjoy the brilliant opportunity to bring more life into this world with a sibling for Eric who will grace us with their presence in March. If not, well, we can handle it.
Ok! Everyone with me now! One cheer for FULL TERM!
We are thrilled to be pregnant and are enjoying the experience to the fullest
Saturday, September 12, 2009
Monday, September 07, 2009
Happy 3rd Birthday Eric
Eric had a great third birthday! He was so overwhelmed with the response to his birthday he had a very difficult time settling down, for the next two days in fact.
Eric has also graduated with flying colors from the NICU follow-up clinic as they see no need to continue following him because he as doing everything every boy his age is doing (which includes power struggles and tantrums which we happily accept as TOTALLY normal!)
Saturday, September 05, 2009
Three years ago today
Three years ago today I went into labor on Labor Day, September 5,2006; at twenty six weeks pregnant with Eric. I had never been so scared and so needy as I was in those moments. Once we figured out what was going on we headed to the emergency room a mile up the street and our journey began.
Aaron found a place to park and says to me, "well this is a good fire drill for the real thing." Me all the while thinking this is more than a fire drill. We arrive in the emergency room. We were greeted with a kind urgency. The nurse confirms my fears. I am having pre term labor contractions. Dr. Lau does an exam, takes a step back and a deep breath before telling us that from this moment forward your pregnancy is going to be different than we may have imagined. I remember his compassionate yet serious delivery of this information. I was centimeter dilated and contractions coming on strong. They admitted me to the hospital and brought in a roll-away bed for Aaron. They immediately shot me with tributalene which made me even more jittery on top of my nerves. Then the hooked me up to an IV drip of magnesium all to try and stop the contractions. It was late now, around 10pm. Aaron asked if he should stay and I told him I had never needed him more than now. They hooked me and Eric up to a heart rate monitor so they could monitor our status. They also tracked my contractions and asked me to hit a button I held in my hand every time I had one. They gave me steroids to increase the development of Eric's lungs and told me to "stay pregnant" for 48 hours at least so the drugs had time to work.
My numbness began here. I was numb with shock, numb with drugs, and with numb with fear. Neither of us had ever been in a place of so much unknown. I couldn't sleep and neither could Aaron. We didn't talk. We laid there in the dark listening to the comforting sounds of Eric's strong and healthy heart beat and the disturbing beep every time I hit the button marking another contraction that was always accompanied by a tear.
Morning came. The contractions slowed over night but did not stop completely. My nurse calmed me by telling me that the contractions were not strong enough to dilate me at this point and I would be fine. Aaron went home to get a few things and the rotating visits from specialists began. I had an ultrasound that determined Eric was head down and weighed 860 grams (1 pound 10 oz). I tried to imagine how the 1lb bag of apples I purchased a few days earlier weighed. They showed me the picture of him. I could see him sitting at what looked to me like the threshold of the birth canal. While the perinatologist said he wasn't impressed because we couldn't see the end of the cervix and it could be quite far, I knew; knew he was on the edge and ready to see this world as much as I wanted him to stay right where he was so I could continue to do my work for him until he was big and strong. He was going to come. I could see it and I could feel it and I was scared. In came the neonatoligist who told us all we could expect should he be born before 28 weeks, 30 weeks, and 32 weeks. Her confidence in the NICU was comforting. They were skillful, compassionate, and could handle whatever surprises Eric was going to throw our way.
My only option was hope. Nothing else but hope. All I could do was breathe and cry. Whenever anyone walked in the door of our hospital room my eyes filled with tears. I could control nothing now but my breath and that was all I intended to focus on.
We stayed pregnant for 48 hours and had a mini celebration with a smile and photo at 10:30pm, that we had given Eric time for the steroids to advance his lung development. Next goal, 28 weeks. The following morning the nurse wrote my goal on the white board in front of my bed and I focused on it and continued to breath. As much as I was willing to convince myself that we would make it to 28 weeks it sure didn't feel like it. Contractions never stopped. Finally Dr. Callan, my ob, said as much as she didn't want to go in there and "muck" things up she needed to do and exam to see where things were at. She did her exam and with an urgency in her voice she said "we have 8 cm and a bulging bag. This baby is coming now." My teeth have never chattered ever in my life and they were chattering so much I could not stop them. I was shaking all over. They moved me back to the delivery bed they head switched me over from (the nurse certain I wouldn't need the delivery bed for a while). Dr. Callan told me she would wait to break my water until my husband got there. I called Aaron and with a shaky voice said, "come back the baby is coming." He had gone home to take care of a few things. When he walked into the room he was white faced. I have never seen a person that color. He was scared.
It took Eric fours to travel through the birth canal. He had a relaxing journey and was never in distress. If I couldn't continue to do the work for him at least I could give him that. They asked if I wanted the epidural and I said why? does it get worse than this? and he is only a little less than 2 lbs. I denied the epidural and later said I needed it but it was only three more pushes before he showed us is tiny face.
Eric was crying and I felt a strange sense of calm and relief. I believe I was merely stunned. Aaron had mind enough to snap pictures like crazy when I wasn't squeezing the blood out of his hand. A team of nurses swarmed Eric and got him ready to move to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit where he would spend the next 96 days. They showed me the swaddled bundle that came from me and rolled him out in and isolet. I still can not call it an incubator to this day because it sounds so sickly to me.
Most women say they experience delivery amnesia. I didn't. I remember every detail. I remember my Dad calling me during labor and the nurse taking my teddy bear out from under my head and saying it is time for business. Most of all I remember thinking quietly to myself as the team of nurses swept Eric away to the NICU that next time I will go full term. I get another chance at this.
It has taken me three years to be able to write this, and in that three years Eric has grown to be a wonderfully perfect three year old boy; and Aaron and I have fully recovered from the trauma of this story.
Aaron found a place to park and says to me, "well this is a good fire drill for the real thing." Me all the while thinking this is more than a fire drill. We arrive in the emergency room. We were greeted with a kind urgency. The nurse confirms my fears. I am having pre term labor contractions. Dr. Lau does an exam, takes a step back and a deep breath before telling us that from this moment forward your pregnancy is going to be different than we may have imagined. I remember his compassionate yet serious delivery of this information. I was centimeter dilated and contractions coming on strong. They admitted me to the hospital and brought in a roll-away bed for Aaron. They immediately shot me with tributalene which made me even more jittery on top of my nerves. Then the hooked me up to an IV drip of magnesium all to try and stop the contractions. It was late now, around 10pm. Aaron asked if he should stay and I told him I had never needed him more than now. They hooked me and Eric up to a heart rate monitor so they could monitor our status. They also tracked my contractions and asked me to hit a button I held in my hand every time I had one. They gave me steroids to increase the development of Eric's lungs and told me to "stay pregnant" for 48 hours at least so the drugs had time to work.
My numbness began here. I was numb with shock, numb with drugs, and with numb with fear. Neither of us had ever been in a place of so much unknown. I couldn't sleep and neither could Aaron. We didn't talk. We laid there in the dark listening to the comforting sounds of Eric's strong and healthy heart beat and the disturbing beep every time I hit the button marking another contraction that was always accompanied by a tear.
Morning came. The contractions slowed over night but did not stop completely. My nurse calmed me by telling me that the contractions were not strong enough to dilate me at this point and I would be fine. Aaron went home to get a few things and the rotating visits from specialists began. I had an ultrasound that determined Eric was head down and weighed 860 grams (1 pound 10 oz). I tried to imagine how the 1lb bag of apples I purchased a few days earlier weighed. They showed me the picture of him. I could see him sitting at what looked to me like the threshold of the birth canal. While the perinatologist said he wasn't impressed because we couldn't see the end of the cervix and it could be quite far, I knew; knew he was on the edge and ready to see this world as much as I wanted him to stay right where he was so I could continue to do my work for him until he was big and strong. He was going to come. I could see it and I could feel it and I was scared. In came the neonatoligist who told us all we could expect should he be born before 28 weeks, 30 weeks, and 32 weeks. Her confidence in the NICU was comforting. They were skillful, compassionate, and could handle whatever surprises Eric was going to throw our way.
My only option was hope. Nothing else but hope. All I could do was breathe and cry. Whenever anyone walked in the door of our hospital room my eyes filled with tears. I could control nothing now but my breath and that was all I intended to focus on.
We stayed pregnant for 48 hours and had a mini celebration with a smile and photo at 10:30pm, that we had given Eric time for the steroids to advance his lung development. Next goal, 28 weeks. The following morning the nurse wrote my goal on the white board in front of my bed and I focused on it and continued to breath. As much as I was willing to convince myself that we would make it to 28 weeks it sure didn't feel like it. Contractions never stopped. Finally Dr. Callan, my ob, said as much as she didn't want to go in there and "muck" things up she needed to do and exam to see where things were at. She did her exam and with an urgency in her voice she said "we have 8 cm and a bulging bag. This baby is coming now." My teeth have never chattered ever in my life and they were chattering so much I could not stop them. I was shaking all over. They moved me back to the delivery bed they head switched me over from (the nurse certain I wouldn't need the delivery bed for a while). Dr. Callan told me she would wait to break my water until my husband got there. I called Aaron and with a shaky voice said, "come back the baby is coming." He had gone home to take care of a few things. When he walked into the room he was white faced. I have never seen a person that color. He was scared.
It took Eric fours to travel through the birth canal. He had a relaxing journey and was never in distress. If I couldn't continue to do the work for him at least I could give him that. They asked if I wanted the epidural and I said why? does it get worse than this? and he is only a little less than 2 lbs. I denied the epidural and later said I needed it but it was only three more pushes before he showed us is tiny face.
Eric was crying and I felt a strange sense of calm and relief. I believe I was merely stunned. Aaron had mind enough to snap pictures like crazy when I wasn't squeezing the blood out of his hand. A team of nurses swarmed Eric and got him ready to move to the Newborn Intensive Care Unit where he would spend the next 96 days. They showed me the swaddled bundle that came from me and rolled him out in and isolet. I still can not call it an incubator to this day because it sounds so sickly to me.
Most women say they experience delivery amnesia. I didn't. I remember every detail. I remember my Dad calling me during labor and the nurse taking my teddy bear out from under my head and saying it is time for business. Most of all I remember thinking quietly to myself as the team of nurses swept Eric away to the NICU that next time I will go full term. I get another chance at this.
It has taken me three years to be able to write this, and in that three years Eric has grown to be a wonderfully perfect three year old boy; and Aaron and I have fully recovered from the trauma of this story.
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