TWO Birthday Parties!!

Evan is so cool, he got two birthday parties!! At least, that's what he told me, so I'll let him think that. Here are some pictures from his two birthday parties. I don't have very many from the one he had in Walkerton that my mom threw for him, because my camera died!! Bad mom...

Again, he kept diving into the cake with his whole face!

Frosting face!

He LOVES the Baby Einstein caterpillar, so I got some 1st birthday stuff with it on it for him...his hat, bib, and a 1st birthday candle. He actually kept the hat on for awhile.

And his friend Lucy's mommy made him his cake...isn't it fabulous? I think she's for hire, so let me know! Each part of the body is a different flavor too! I was so excited to see this cake, and it got a big grin from Evan as well!

This is the only picture I have of him at his Grandma Rhonda's party. He still hasn't gotten to his cake yet. It was a Mickey Mouse head, with LOTS of black frosting. Thanks, Grandma Rhonda!

Happy Birthday Evan!!

It has arrived...
October 19th, 2007 in the late afternoon hours, found me saying farewell to a nurse, Julie, who was uncomfortable with some signs I was showing that we may not be able to stop my labor any longer. She was going home for the day and stopped by to check on me, and discovered it was possible my water had broken. She did the test three times, and two times it came up positive for amniotic fluid. She left, telling the night nurse what she thought, and I'm not sure what happened in the next few hours...except that I had visitors, Jeremy and Amanda Garner, and I think maybe some others but it is hard to recall. But anyhow, at 11:38pm they were wheeling me out of my home for the last two weeks. I had called my parents and Mandy, my sister-in-law, as I had been talking to her when they said they were trying to figure out what to do.

I guess the time that is kind of fuzzy is when my doctor came to see me, she was at another delivery at Dupont Hospital, and ran to Parkview main, then back to Dupont, then back to me. During that time, a neonatologist, Dr. Gilmore, came to speak with Paul and I, and a nurse, Laura, came in. Dr. Gilmore went over virtually everything that could happen to Evan. Paul was upset when she left the room, but I said that there were only three things she said that scared me at the time, out of the entire 45 minutes that she spoke: cerebral palsy, hydrocephaly, and I can't really remember the other. But after she had spoken to us, my doctor, Dr. Blackmon, came back in and asked us if we'd made a decision. We said we weren't sure. She said the main reason she was concerned about the situation was that since he was so small, if my water were to break and he tried to come before they could take me to surgery, his umbilical cord could slide out first, which would bend it in half, cutting off any oxygen supply to his brain. As soon as she said this, I was on board. I did not realize that this was a risk the entire time I was lying there! Then she didn't know if it should be done that night, in the middle of the night, or wait until the morning. She checked me one more time...pulled the sheet up and took one look and said...that's it...I've made my decision. And now we're back to the part where they wheeled me out of the room.

I was so calm. I have absolutely no doubt in my mind that Jesus was walking right beside me the entire time. I had such an overwhelming feeling of peace about the whole thing. When they took me in, I knew about everything that would be happening to me. I had fretted over any needle being in my spine (epidural or spinal block) for the entire time I was on bedrest. I had wanted a totally natural delivery. But at that moment, I think I was comforted not only by the staff, my doctor, Paul, and of course the promise we have in Christ, but that I knew that in just one more day, I would not have to have that catheter in anymore!!! (I'm serious, people! It was that bad!) The spinal block was not a nightmare, but I did hate it and wish to never have any needle in my spine for ANY reason EVER again. I laid there and joked with the anesthesiologist, Dr. Blackmon, Paul, and nurses, and asked her while she was down there if she could do a tummy tuck. And she did!

When Evan Paul was born, at 1:06am, October 20th, 2007, he cried and was flailing his arms and legs like crazy. All I wanted was to hear him cry at that point, and it happened. Sometimes it doesn't, I'm told. But he wailed until they put the tube down his throat to bag him until they could get him on the ventilator in the NICU. They told me he weighed 2 lbs. 1 oz. and was 14 inches long. I was ecstatic. Most people hope for a 7-8 pound baby...I was hoping for at least 2 pounds! I was hoping to make it to 26 weeks...I made it to 26 and one day. Every day is counted in those situations.

But, enough about that day...fast forward to this day!! We have the happiest, healthiest (aside from a touch of asthma) little boy ever! We credit that to the Parkview NICU, our nurses, and our neonatologist, Dr. Gilmore.

We have had a great year with Evan and pray for so many more!!!

Pictures to follow, from his first birthday party at Grandpa Steve and Grandma Rhonda's house!

So much FUN!

If anyone would have told me how much fun I would have being a mom, I'm not sure I would have believed it. Or how much I'd laugh. I am constantly amused and entertained by Evan. He is hilarious! I'm sure that this is the woman behind the mommy goggles speaking, but seriously, he is the funniest, happiest, most easy-going kid I've ever seen. Now, either he's storing it all up for the terrible 1.5-3's (because other parents have told me the phrase "terrible two's" is seriously misleading...) or I have just been that blessed. I get the biggest kick out of the faces he makes, the sounds he makes, the way he sits, holds his head, looks at me, claps his hands, waves bye-bye, and the list goes on and on. I'm so in love with him! It has certainly been a journey, and if we speak regularly you already know my struggles with forming a typical mom and baby attachment, all tied in really to the traumatic end to my pregnancy. But let me tell you, that is resolved! It feels so good to feel like his Mommy.

Anyhow, on this day one year ago, I was still lying in bed, feet above my head, in agony not from contractions but from the foot incessantly stomping on my bladder. I'm sure I had visitors, as our bible study group took turns visiting nearly every day, so that I wouldn't be alone all the time. I was probably, at this very moment (11pm), verbally processing through all the emotions in my head to one of my night nurses. God bless them...if they weren't delivering a baby in the next room or running or charting, they were chatting with me. And sometimes they were running to the fridge for chocolate mint cake from my grandma or Baskin Robbins ice cream that Paul went and got me because it sounded good. Enough reminiscing...there are pictures to post!

We went to the park with Evan for the first time ever, and he rode in the swing. It was a character building exercise, as I hadn't remembered to bring wipes to wipe off the swing before he touched it. Given the chances that it was probably sort of clean, and the desire to see him enjoy the swings before it got too cold out to take him, I had to get over it. And not just me...Paul too!

Paul pulled him in his John Deere wagon. We pulled the removable seat from the double stroller and put it in the wagon so he would be secure. He LOVES to be outside, and loves to go on walks.

I don't think any explanation for this picture is needed...he loved the swings, and Daddy pushing him of course.

When we were just about to leave the park, Paul noticed that one of the three toys (a purple block, this red truck, and a neon green ball) was missing. Sure enough, on the way back, we found the renegade green ball, just sitting in the grass alongside the road waiting for a ride back home. After finding it, I kept watching Evan to make sure he didn't drop any others. Well, we get ALL THE WAY to the back of our property and Paul notices the red truck is missing. Now, the red truck's monetary value is roughly 33.3 cents. But it's sentimental value is way way more than that. So, I turned around and walked back up the trail to the pond, around the back of the pond to the road, and up the drive to the road, still not finding the red truck, as I was certain he had "just had it!" Well, it must have been seconds after rescuing the ball that he dropped the truck. And here it is. Waiting to be rescued as well. The little stinker was dropping his toys along the way like little bread crumbs!!!

Off topic: Presidential Election Vent time...

So, as I've become an adult, and believe I am a little more mature than my high-school-age self, I've come to wonder WHY IN THE WORLD is there SO MUCH EMPHASIS on the presidential election, when truthfully, he doesn't do near as much decision-making as our congressmen and women. THEY are the ones we should be concerned about...their voting records, the issues they stand for, etc. But instead, all of the importance is placed on the glorified popularity contest that is our presidential election. This election is the silliest display of two bumbling idiots (will I get hauled off to Guantanamo Bay for saying that?) trying to win your vote with whatever they feel will get them elected. It's like the ditz campaining for class president who says, "If I'm elected class president, I'll get rid of tests! I'll make sure the cafeteria food is nothing but pizza and fries, and I'll shorten the school day by two and half hours!!! Vote for ME!!" All the while, she has ABSOLUTELY NO power to do ANY of these things she's promised. And everything she's said is nothing but pandering. When our candidates want to do nothing about our borders, it's not because they don't care whether our hard work is a joke for letting people illegally live here on our tab. It's because they want that particular demographic's vote. When they say they will create all sorts of new programs and reform ailing ones, it's (most of the time) not because they truly care that my child gets more funding for therapeutic services or that our elderly get a break on prescriptions they need to live a quality life. It's because they want the votes of those interest groups. They know they will not have half the power they need to accomplish anything. And that is disgusting.

October 8th...

And today marks one year since I was rushed to Parkview Hospital in Fort Wayne, when Evan tried to make his grand entrance 16 WEEKS early instead of 14 weeks. My aunt Brenda has always said, "He just has things to do" when talking about his early birth. And that is certainly true!
After the traumatic catheter insertion and ambulance ride, I was taken to Labor and Delivery at the Parkview main campus. After getting me to my bed for the next 12 days, several nurses were called in to attempt to put my bed into "Trendelenberg" position. This is a position in which the bed is still completely flat, but tilted on end so that my feet were above my head, taking pressure off of my cervix, which Evan was so determined to come through. It would seem that this was awful, but that was not the worst part of my stay. The worst part was that Evan had one foot on my bladder, stomping on it with the catheter in, and the other wiggling around in my open cervix. I told the nurses that his stomping on my bladder was making the catheter move in and out, but they didn't believe me. One nurse finally realized that was certainly what was happening when she was emptying the bag and she felt the tube move several times. She was one of my favorite nurses, Nurse Jan.
Anyhow, once they got the bed into position, I noticed that they had turned on a bed warmer...you know the kind they place the baby in right away. I understand that this is protocol, but nevertheless, it freaked me out. It was then that it really sunk in what was happening to us.
So, this began my journey to becoming a preemie mommy. I'll spare most of the uncomfortable details of being completely bedridden in a hospital. You can figure it out. But really, I only had to lie there 12 days...some women end up doing so for much longer than that...months even.

One scary thing I do want to share. Until you are placed in a situation like this, and it can be any trauma, really...you really don't know yourself at all. The very deep, dark places of our humanity can come through, and when certain thoughts are voiced, people that have not ever had to face these things think "Don't talk like that," or "How could she say that?" Well, I want to share how disorienting it was to feel two very different emotions so strongly, to be so fully passionate about two extremely differing desires: I wanted to stay pregnant, for as long as possible, so that Evan had the best chance possible, and I could take home a perfectly normal baby. But I also felt, just as strongly, that all I wanted was to be out of that bed (mostly just to get the catheter out, really) and what that meant was Evan would have to be born. I wished he would just come so that it could be over for me, even though his problems could have been lifelong, or even fatal. It's just a part of being human, and the deepest, darkest part of me that is so incredibly selfish that at that moment I wanted to trade two weeks (potentially three months) of my discomfort for a lifetime of heartbreak, pain, medications, surgeries, and possibly death for my baby.
That feeling eventually subsided, after a couple days. All I wanted then was to have a normal baby, for him to stay in there as long as possible.
But then there were similar feelings at different times in the NICU as well. But, anyway, I just wanted to share, because that was something I was thinking probably right at this very minute exactly a year ago.

October 3rd...should I just stay in bed this year?

I'm going to chronicle the day I had exactly one year ago...it's long, just to warn you!

October 3rd marks one year since the first signs of trouble in my pregnancy with Evan. It was exactly a year ago today, that all through the early morning hours I lay in pain on the couch, thinking that it was only the start of the third-trimester-woes of childbearing. The pain came and went, which is such a dangerous attribute of pre-term labor, because it deceives you...you think that when it goes away, that it was nothing. I had not been feeling great the previous evening, and decided to stay on the couch that night. The pain was very very low, but sometimes would radiate from my lower back around to the front. And sometimes it was very similar to gas/diarrhea pains. I truly thought that's what it was. But everything was normal in that department when I'd visit the restroom. (Sorry if this is TMI!). So, Paul went off to work and we planned on my going to Wabash to see my clients, then meet him at his new job for lunch. He had only been working there for two days. I was excited to do lunch with him, so I just kept passing off the pain as digestion issues. I got ready for work, then sat on the couch, made a few calls to those that had been previously pregnant and delivered, asking them what their labor felt like. I decided to call my OB, and the receptionist convinced me to let them look at me. I called off my morning clients, but still had afternoon clients, and was planning on seeing Paul for lunch. Dr. Stamm did a cervical exam, and said that it didn't really feel like I was dilated, but wanted an ultrasound just to be sure. The ultrasound showed "funnelling." Funnelling of the cervix is what happens prior to dilation. The bottom of my uterus was starting to open, but hadn't yet. He placed me on magnesium sulfate by IV, and had me stay the night in the hospital in Huntington.
One of my favorite memories of the day was when I called Paul to tell him what was going on, and urged him not to come see me until his work day was over...he had just started for goodness sakes! He had two weeks without pay prior to this! His new co-workers, bless their hearts, thought they needed to help him understand that my telling him not to come was actually my warning him that if he didn't come see me, there would be hell to pay. With most women, I think that is what that may mean...but with me, I was serious. I really wanted him to stay! Of course, at this point, I had no idea what kind of danger Evan was in.

So, I stayed overnight, and went home the next day. I spent the next three days in pain off and on, taking meticulous notes describing it. We visited labor and delivery one more time because it still hurt. That was Saturday night into Sunday morning. Then October 8th, I went in for a follow-up appointment with my OB, who checked my cervix and said that I hadn't yet dilated, but felt more effaced (thinned out). Another ultrasound, just to be sure. I almost declined. Praise the Lord I didn't. The ultrasound tech chatted with me, very casually, while conducting the ultrasound. I found out later (she's a cousin of one of our primary nurses, Laura) that she thought I was going to deliver right on the table after what she saw. She WALKED me back to L&D, where a nurse told me to get undressed and provide a urine sample. I asked her if I was going back home. She looked at me with her eyes as round as half-dollars, and said, "let's just wait until the doctor gets here." He did a sterile exam, which meant visually looking at my cervix through the speculum, aided by this very bright light.

I was 3 to 5cm dilated, with bulging membranes stretching 5cm outside my cervix. I immediately started crying. If this is all foreign to you, picture a large water balloon (Evan's amniotic sac...it holds the "water" that he floated around in). Then place the water balloon on top of a small cup...the balloon will stretch into the opening of the cup. This is what was happening to his amniotic sac, but it is much thinner than a balloon. The balloon could break at any time. Remember I was only 24 weeks along right then, slightly less than 6 months pregnant (a month is not 4 weeks long...it's roughly 4.4 weeks long). Dr. Stamm looked at me and said, "Okay, Misty, this is it. You're going to Lutheran. We'll get you ready for the ambulance ride, keep you on the magnesium, and pray for the best." Paul rushed to the hospital. He was crying, and asked me if Evan was coming right now. I said no. I was still sort of in denial, but still very scared.

I will never forget the absolute idiot nurse that tried to start my IV for the ambulance ride. Now, don't get me wrong...I LOVE nurses. I LOVED Evan's nurses. I LOVED my nurses. But this one. This one was a treat. She rubbed and rubbed at my veins, turning my arms over and over, looking at my feet, trying to prep them for entry, then dug around at least three times in each of the four sites she attempted, still not able to get a vein. And the worst part about it was that the whole time, she was looking over her little glasses, talking through her nose, going, "Nope, I just don't see one. Well, hold on, let's try this one," all the while rubbing at me. I'm a very easy patient. Really...I can admit it when I'm difficult. But I'm a dream come true...the entire practice of doctors (8 of them) that dealt with me during my bedrest in Fort Wayne said so. But I so seriously could have decked her one. Finally the nurse manager, a man in his 50's, came in and got it in the first try. The bruises she gave me lasted through to Thanksgiving. AND she had blown all of the sites that they could have used while I was on bedrest in Ft. Wayne! Then she was the one that had the priviledge of escorting me in the ambulance. Goody!

I'll spare the details of getting a catheter for the first time ever. Let's just say, I could have sworn it should have been coming out of my nose by the time she was done inserting it.

The ambulance ride was a blur, as I was hopped up on magnesium sulfate, which makes you very tired. They took me to Parkview because the doctor at Lutheran was unavailable for three more days. I'm SO GLAD for that. I LOVED my nurses, and the NICU at Parkview. I was wheeled into room 394 in Labor and Delivery, and stayed there until October 19th, 2007 at 11:34pm, I was taken to the operating room for an emergency C-section.

I think I'll reminisce about that day when the time comes.

Thanks for listening (reading)!

Great News!!

We went for a follow-up appointment at the pediatrician today, to be sure he was over his ear infection and cold. The doctor said that he was over all of it. But that wasn't all...he said:
1. Evan doesn't necessarily need his RSV injections this year.
2. If he does get RSV, it shouldn't mean more lung damage (as we had previously thought), worst case a hospitalization and oxygen until it clears
3. He also said this: "I think he's doing wonderfully...he is the poster child for how you want this all to go, being such an early preemie." I almost cried.


All of that being said, we do still need to be careful around crowds. We probably won't be visiting Walmart or the grocery store (Evan and I together, anyway) and it's likely we won't have him in the church nursery until next spring. Holiday season will be difficult, but we don't plan on staying home from family get-togethers! We've earned the right to celebrate the holidays as a family, with our families, darn it!

And after January 1st, when a new insurance deductible applies, we'll probably get pretty strict, as we really don't want to start off 2009 with new bills to add to the ones we are still paying from his first hospital stay.

But, this was such great news, I just had to share it.