First off, I think my daughter is beautiful too. As to accepting Bobby and Maya as their own individuals: I'm not sure what led you to that conclusion. I dont believe for one second that Nicholas, Sophia, or Alexander somehow came back to life in their younger siblings. Bobby and Maya are their own unique souls with their own special destinies. However, just as I am sure my mother looks at me and sees a bit of herself because, after all, she raised me and I am her daughter, I would be lying if I said that I didnt see parts of their older siblings in them. Sophia's eyes... Nicholas's head shape... Alexander's dimples... They are siblings. It is only natural that they would favor one another.
As to wanting Nicholas, Sophia, or Alexander back at the expense of Bobby and Maya. Perhaps you dont read my blog and just stumbled across Maya's picture. I dont know. But I sure as hell know that, if you actually read it, you wouldn't have this misguided view. I have said on more than one occasion that I wouldnt, for all in the world, give up my children. ANY of them. In order for me to have had the privilege to mother them all, God had to call some of them Home. I dont like it. I will always have sorrow in my heart. But my heart is also filled with love and gladness. I cant imagine a life without every single one of my children and I accept that my lot in life is to hold some of them in my heart alone and some in my heart and arms. To imply- no, to actually come out and say- that I dont love and cherish Bobby and Maya with my entire being is to only show your ignorance of me and my family. Play your hate somewhere else, because it doesnt belong here.
After I read the comment by anonymous, I briefly thought of turning off the anonymous commenting feature, but I realize then that person, whomever they are, gets what they want. Too many of us change OUR way of expression because of this person (or these people) who troll infertility and loss blogs, spouting off nonsense. Not going to happen here. I value everyone's freedom to say what they want, especially my own. (Oh, and by the way, it's really brave to write shit under the name "Anonymous". And, Anon, if you didnt get the sarcasm, my voice is dripping with it...)
But enough about that pointless chatter... I do have real things to blog about.
One in three preemies ends up back in the hospital. We are no exception, although I'm really hoping that we arent the 2 out of 6. Maya was taken by ambulance to our local hospital late last night. She is fine now. Please dont worry. And thank you for the prayers that I know will be said on her behalf, in advance.
Last night, Peter had just fed her and she had taken way more (5.5 ounces) than normal. He went to burp her and she stopped breathing. We tried patting her back and applying pressure to her tummy to make her vomit, but nothing. She began to turn blue and her eyes widened. I called 911 and Peter used a bulb syringe to suction her nose and mouth. By the time the Police arrived (within a minute) and the EMTs soon after, she was on her changing table and breathing. The suctioning removed huge chunks of mucus (Maya has always had more secretions than Bobby and required more suctioning in the hospital) and then formula began coming out of her nose and mouth and she tried to cry. It was such a welcomed sound. The paramedic checked her out while I called our pediatrician.
I have never been happier to a) live in a small town where we are a stones throw from police/fire/ems; b) live in a small town where the local pediatrician still answers her own cell phone when you call after hours; and c) be within 15 minutes of a hospital (even if it isnt one I'd deliver in because even though they have no NICU, they do have CHOP pediatricians).
The paramedic said she looked fine and was breathing but to find out how our doctor wanted her handled. Dr W said that she would prefer that Maya be transported to the hospital and kept for observation, just to make sure she was okay and didnt have a repeat episode. As we were getting Maya into her bundleme and carseat, she vomited up the entire bottle she'd eaten and let out a huge cry. As she clung to me, I was so grateful that she was breathing well enough to sob. She even gave me a "mean Maya" glare as I undressed and redressed her. Her carseat was strapped to the gurney and I rode with her in the ambulance while Peter followed behind with Bobby. The EMTs stayed with us in the Emergency room triage room we were in until we started to be seen.
Chunky Monkey now weighs (with a onesie and diaper) 7lb 3oz. Her lungs were clear and she was hungry (big surprise after puking up everything she ate). I held her and then Peter laid down on the bed with her and held her. A sweet (and very young) orderly came in after he walked by and saw me laying my head on Peter's legs while sitting in a chair, and brought a large comfy rocking chair and two warm blankets. He was so kind. It was an unexpected gesture and one that really lifted me up.
We were in the ER area until 2:30 am when they moved us to a private room. Even though the rules say no children under 18 (thank you Swine Flu) and only one parent overnight in Pediatrics, the doctor made the concession to let us all stay together and Maya's nurse, herself a twin mom, offered cosleeping as an option. I was ready to hold Bobby all night, but when she offered to let him sleep with Maya after inquiring as to whether the cosleep at home, my heart just about leapt out of my chest. Once they were together, they slept so soundly, nuzzled together.
Maya was on monitors from when she arrived around 10pm until we were discharged around 1pm today. Her O2 numbers were always in the high 90s-100 (they wanted them 93+ when sleeping, 95+ when awake), she had a good respiratory rate and heartrate. She ate 2oz at her first 2 feedings in the hospital and almost 3oz at her final one later in the morning. Peter just fed her 2 more oz.
The initial doctor wanted to keep her for at least 2 days, observation last night and then do a numogram today. Basically, they would put something similar to an OG tube in, to find out if Maya was suffering from reflux. Her best guess was that this was reflux situation; Peter and I both thought that it was a combination of her eating a lot, having a lot of mucus build up, and then perhaps getting secretions lodged in her airway and being unable to move it on her own. This is from our experiences with Maya and her history of no reflux. So, we asked that, come this morning, they consult with the neonatologists and come to a recommendation with their advice. So, the doctor this morning called the head of Lankanau's neonatology and after some time (there was an emergency delivery so he was a tad busy), they touched base. He filled her in on Maya's history and said that, in his opinion, what was done was enough. That, had he been treating her, he would have kept her for observation but felt that more testing, at this point, wasnt needed. His feeling was that, if it happens again, yes definitely, but that she has no history to lead us to think this was reflux related and SINCE it happened during a feed AND SINCE she ate a lot more than normal AND WITH the mucus removed... he thinks she is fine. So, we are to not feed her more each feed, to burp her even more often than we normally do, and to suction her daily since the air is dryer, etc with the heat. We also will follow up with Dr W early next week.
They had their Prevnar immunization on the 15th, but we dont think that played into her issue on the night of the 16th. It was post 24 hours from the shot and, while after shots they do tend to be more clingy and want to eat less food more often (which happened yesterday), they had no redness at the injection site, no rash, and, if she were to have an allergic reaction that caused an issue with her windpipe, all signs point to it happening prior to 9pm last night, when all this went down.
I have to be honest here. I am a mess. I have had several moments where I have just broken down into sobs. One was when my MIL came to the hospital this morning. She walked in and as soon as she asked "how are you", the lie of "okay" couldnt come out and I just sobbed. Another was getting home. I walked into the living room, where the choking happened, and as soon as I saw the couch, the empty bottle, the drink glasses Peter and I had last night and the room in disarray, I just saw her face. Her beautiful face, swollen and turning blue, those little lips open and purple, her eyes wide and bulging. Even though the moment lasted seconds- perhaps a minute at the longest- before she was breathing again, it played out in lifetime slowness and I choked on my sob. Peter just held me. All I could say, all I could think, was "my baby girl... we almost lost my sweet, baby girl... my Maya". I am frozen just remembering it right now. Even though I see her laying peacefully on her daddy's chest after another uneventful feeding and I can hear her sweet little snore, I feel my stomach tighten and my heart pulled at how close we came. I cant even think of the "what if" statements that want to float in my head. I just cant. It is too much. Too raw.
As I watched her sleep last night, watched the flickering red numbers of the monitor telling me that what I saw was true and that she was, indeed, alright, all I could think was "Lord, havent we been through enough???" I know that my Mamaw says that God never gives you more than you can handle, but really, I think God has set some high standards for me and I'm struggling to live up. I'm not this strong, Lord. I'm really not. I cant handle the possibility of losing Bobby or Maya. I used to think Peter dying would be the thing that crushed me beyond repair, but I know now that I could survive that, just as I have survived losing Nicholas, Sophia, Alexander, and our sweet little miscarried saints. I know that I told God, not so long ago, that I was so grateful for just these few precious months that I trusted I could return them to Him if that was their destiny and fate. But, God, I was wrong.
I was dead wrong.
I cant. I'm not that strong. I know now, for a fact, that I couldnt survive this. My heart couldnt continue beating. Holding Bobby right now, feeling his little hands holding me as though I am the only thing in the world, watching Maya hold Peter the same way... Please. I cant take another child returning Home before me. If someone needs to go, please let it be me. But let their work be here on earth for another, I dont know, 100 years or so? (And, I'd like Peter and I to be here for most of that, if possible...)
Maya is fine. I know that. If something were going to happen, it would have been last night. But I am still on edge.
And feeling like I should just go ahead and buy stock in our local EMS (who once again, did a kick ass job at treating our family like their own).