Yesterday our small group decided to put our study aside and enjoy some good fellowship. Our hosts had the perfect house for a group our size. The kids were either in their kids's bedrooms playing or down in the basement playing. The men were in the family room watching the Super Bowl together. The women were in the dining room chatting about life.
I think, between the 6 ladies, we asked "now who's playing again?" only maybe 6 times. I have to say that's pretty good considering we were trying to track down kids, hold down conversations, eat as much yummy food as we could, convince the kiddos they needed to eat something and plan a Valentine party for next week.
I missed every single play, every single commercial and had the best time ever.
Thank you Steve and Jorene for opening your home. It was super.
Monday, February 8, 2010
Thursday, February 4, 2010
I Think I Blinked
I have no idea where the last couple years went. We've lost some teeth, gotten some new ones. We've cut off some hair and grown some new.
How blessed we are.
Wednesday, February 3, 2010
Footloose and Fancy Three
On Saturday we celebrated Zoe's 3rd birthday with her friends and their families. When you're making invitations for the party you begin to come to the realization that your child is more popular than you.
At age 3, she had 27 kids on her invite list. If you add their parents and my family, you've got about 60 people on the list. Sixty people for a 3 year old's party. I don't even think there would be 60 people on the list for my birthday!
The theme was music, so we spend a good portion of the afternoon sweating to the oldies. At this point I would like to thank Richard Simmons for teaching me how throw a killer dance/workout party. I would also like to thank The Wiggles for making approximately 6,012 songs that played throughout the party non-stop. If it weren't for these two things, the 16 children that came wouldn't have been half as entertained as they were.
We played a little freeze dancing, musical islands (like musical chairs, but with poster board taped to the floor instead of chairs), more freeze dancing, some Ring Around the Rosey, London Bridges and more freeze dancing.
Then we made some kazoos out of empty toilet paper rolls, construction paper, stickers and wax paper.
We realized we still had 45 minutes of time to fill. Those 3 year olds need a new activity every 10 minutes. Just like in the 90's, all that sweating to the oldies really knocks it out of a girl.
We did a parade around the building with our new kazoos. If you've never seen a kazoo band of 3 year olds, I highly recommend it. If you've never heard a kazoo band of 3 year olds, I don't recommend it.
I'm not sure if it was a combination of sweating and deafness, but we decided to take a small break to eat cake. I have to spend a moment on the cake. It was absolutely to die for. Diana at Happy Cake Co. made it for me. All I told her was it was a music party and we're doing pink, black and white. This is what she came up with:
I had a really hard time cutting into it. I can tell you it tasted as awesome as it looked.
One equation all the sweating and deafness made me forget is sugar + toddlers = hyper!
Fortunately it was around nap time, so we sent all the kiddos home with their kazoos and sugar rushes.
It was a great party with great people. They all made Zoe feel special and loved. What more could you ask of your child's friends?
Tuesday, February 2, 2010
We Need To Set An Alarm Next Year
So I mentioned that I'm an overachiever mom who likes to make a big deal out of birthdays. I've been waiting for Zoe's birthday for the entire month just to see if our card made the Sunny Side-Up show on Sprout. Unfortunately you have no way of knowing if your card made it beforehand.
At 6:30 I got online to see if her card was out there and if there was any mention of making the show. The card was on-line, along with 25 other cards. Our chances of making it on the show were slim. There were some amazing cards for some other overachiever parents.
At 7:15 last Tuesday morning I got a call from my mom. Her voice was high pitched and I think I could understand that my card made the show. Apparently the host even gave some kuddos to the card. I couldn't wait to get home that night and watch the re-cap of the morning show. Zoe doesn't wake up until 9:30-10:00 in the morning, so I knew we'd be seeing it in the evening.
We went to dinner, went to see N at his work, had an impromptu party with daddy and then rushed home. Zoe fell asleep on the way home, but I wasn't going to let her sleep. We were moments away from her card being on the television. Along with the Sprout folks wishing her a happy birthday.
That's when we discovered that the morning birthdays are different that the night ones.
Her card made the show, my mom saw it, but Zoe has absolutely no idea that she was on television.
It was a sad day for this mommy.
At least Zoe had "the best birthday ever!"
At 6:30 I got online to see if her card was out there and if there was any mention of making the show. The card was on-line, along with 25 other cards. Our chances of making it on the show were slim. There were some amazing cards for some other overachiever parents.
At 7:15 last Tuesday morning I got a call from my mom. Her voice was high pitched and I think I could understand that my card made the show. Apparently the host even gave some kuddos to the card. I couldn't wait to get home that night and watch the re-cap of the morning show. Zoe doesn't wake up until 9:30-10:00 in the morning, so I knew we'd be seeing it in the evening.
We went to dinner, went to see N at his work, had an impromptu party with daddy and then rushed home. Zoe fell asleep on the way home, but I wasn't going to let her sleep. We were moments away from her card being on the television. Along with the Sprout folks wishing her a happy birthday.
That's when we discovered that the morning birthdays are different that the night ones.
Her card made the show, my mom saw it, but Zoe has absolutely no idea that she was on television.
It was a sad day for this mommy.
At least Zoe had "the best birthday ever!"
Saturday, January 30, 2010
The Making of Our Family - Part IX
One of the hardest things I've ever had to do as a mother is to leave my child. I had spent 18 days down the hall from her. I could see her each day, check on her, talk to her nurses. For 18 days I was an active part in her life.
I had to leave her. I had to go home. There was no reason for me to be at the hospital. Now I had to heal and be the mommy she needed. There were days I knew what that was and there were days I felt completely inadequate to be her mommy. Our emotional rollercoaster was only beginning. On Valentine's day we got word that Zoe was doing so well that they had moved her to the Intermediate Care Nursery. It was the move before she could come home.
We had been warned that babies born as early as Zoe could go between the NICU and the ICN several times before coming home. We couldn't wait to have her home. Even though we had heard the warning, we hadn't believed it would apply to us.
It would be another 59 days until she could come home.
It would be another 236 hours spent in the car driving back and forth to the hospital.
There were many days where she'd forget to breathe and have an episode. She would develop bradycardia (the heart stops beating) due to her apnea (forgetting to breathe). There were times when I'd watch the monitors and see her breathing stop and her skin turn blue. I had to learn to stimulate her.
Her first bath was in the NICU. Her first bottle was in the NICU. She met D & E from her isolet in the NICU. It was as though N and I had 67 days of training under the watchful eye of medical professionals. Many days I was too weak to spend more than 90 minutes with her. The roundrip added another 2 hours. I could barely function for the first couple weeks because I was so weak.
N and I watched as our daughter fought to survive. Each day that she fought, so did we. We became a team, a unit during this trial. While we still had much more work to do before our unit was a real family, the foundation was laid by Him through Zoe. Her birth prompted in us a radical change that should've been done long before N and I said "I do."
As I look back on this time, so many things were orchestrated by Him, long before we ever realized what we would encounter. I picked a hospital close to work because I selfishly wanted my vacation time. Yet the hospital closest to work is the only hospital with a NICU in the area and a trauma unit. If we had gone to any other hospital, Zoe would've ended up at the this NICU and we would've been separated. I probably would've have survived.
The doctor who ended up fixing my liver is one of the top surgeons in the nation. He just happened to be eating in the cafe as he waited for a meeting to start. He wasn't supposed to be at the hospital that day.
Nurse Becky's sister is a NICU nurse at the hospital. She kept a watchful eye on Zoe when we couldn't be there. All of my nurses and doctors were the best you could find.
My mom was able to use FMLA to be with us for most of my recovery. Without her being there, I probably wouldn't have recovered at all.
Our colleagues and friends that we had there made sure our nursery was stocked when we came home. They did my shopping and prepared us materially for Zoe's arrival.
Our church family here prayed for us, encouraged us and welcomed us home.
It was as though He was showing us all that we had to look forward to once our foundation was in Him. Losing our control wasn't easy nor fun, but once we did it, we have reaped the blessings tenfold.
Every time I hear Zoe take a deep breath over the monitor at night I'm reminded of what each of those breaths means. They are a reminder of where we've come from.
Our journey is a string of moments where God is shaping our lives to bring Him glory.
I had to leave her. I had to go home. There was no reason for me to be at the hospital. Now I had to heal and be the mommy she needed. There were days I knew what that was and there were days I felt completely inadequate to be her mommy. Our emotional rollercoaster was only beginning. On Valentine's day we got word that Zoe was doing so well that they had moved her to the Intermediate Care Nursery. It was the move before she could come home.
We had been warned that babies born as early as Zoe could go between the NICU and the ICN several times before coming home. We couldn't wait to have her home. Even though we had heard the warning, we hadn't believed it would apply to us.
It would be another 59 days until she could come home.
It would be another 236 hours spent in the car driving back and forth to the hospital.
There were many days where she'd forget to breathe and have an episode. She would develop bradycardia (the heart stops beating) due to her apnea (forgetting to breathe). There were times when I'd watch the monitors and see her breathing stop and her skin turn blue. I had to learn to stimulate her.
Her first bath was in the NICU. Her first bottle was in the NICU. She met D & E from her isolet in the NICU. It was as though N and I had 67 days of training under the watchful eye of medical professionals. Many days I was too weak to spend more than 90 minutes with her. The roundrip added another 2 hours. I could barely function for the first couple weeks because I was so weak.
N and I watched as our daughter fought to survive. Each day that she fought, so did we. We became a team, a unit during this trial. While we still had much more work to do before our unit was a real family, the foundation was laid by Him through Zoe. Her birth prompted in us a radical change that should've been done long before N and I said "I do."
As I look back on this time, so many things were orchestrated by Him, long before we ever realized what we would encounter. I picked a hospital close to work because I selfishly wanted my vacation time. Yet the hospital closest to work is the only hospital with a NICU in the area and a trauma unit. If we had gone to any other hospital, Zoe would've ended up at the this NICU and we would've been separated. I probably would've have survived.
The doctor who ended up fixing my liver is one of the top surgeons in the nation. He just happened to be eating in the cafe as he waited for a meeting to start. He wasn't supposed to be at the hospital that day.
Nurse Becky's sister is a NICU nurse at the hospital. She kept a watchful eye on Zoe when we couldn't be there. All of my nurses and doctors were the best you could find.
My mom was able to use FMLA to be with us for most of my recovery. Without her being there, I probably wouldn't have recovered at all.
Our colleagues and friends that we had there made sure our nursery was stocked when we came home. They did my shopping and prepared us materially for Zoe's arrival.
Our church family here prayed for us, encouraged us and welcomed us home.
It was as though He was showing us all that we had to look forward to once our foundation was in Him. Losing our control wasn't easy nor fun, but once we did it, we have reaped the blessings tenfold.
Every time I hear Zoe take a deep breath over the monitor at night I'm reminded of what each of those breaths means. They are a reminder of where we've come from.
Our journey is a string of moments where God is shaping our lives to bring Him glory.
Friday, January 29, 2010
The Making of Our Family - Part VIII
The story is far from over. I would go develop a blood clot bigger than Zoe's head in my liver cavity. That meant another drain. Then came a fever with no reason. That brought fear that I had another clot carrying bacteria. That could be fatal. I was put on blood thinners and having blood drawn twice a day. By then end of day three on the thinners, I looked like an IV drug user. They put in a permanent IV, my third procedure. When those things didn't drop the fever, they discovered fluid on my lungs. They ordered a chest tube be inserted.
During all of this, the chest tube was the moment that I felt confident about going home. I felt confident that this was the thing that would make the fever stop, make the IVs stop, make the healing start. I was also unphased by what else they could do to me. My focus was on getting better so I could focus on Zoe. So I could be the mommy I wanted so badly to be. To have those moments that I had envisioned.
When you have a chest tube put in, you are awake. They numb the area, but it's a surface numbing. You can feel everything about it, except the part on your skin. Because you are coherent, you have an active role in the procedure. At least I did. I can remember laying there, feeling the pain of a tube being inserted between my ribs and then I couldn't breathe.
I had lost my ability to breathe. It was like someone was holding my nose and mouth shut and I couldn't do anything to stop it.
All the noise of the room stopped. Everything went calm. I remember praying, "God, just take care of her. She's in your hands now." At that moment it felt like I was kissed. My lips felt touched. My breath returned.
I layed on the table, able to breathe and listening to the hurried sounds of people coming into the room. A woman ran up to me and placed a mask on my face. A man on the other side of me held my hand.
A peace washed over me. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, both Zoe and I would be okay. The Great Physician was on call. He was in the NICU. He was guiding the doctors and nurses. He was getting us through this.
Just as I felt it would, my fever disappeared and I was cleared to go home on February 13th. That afternoon I said a tearful good-bye to Zoe. I held her, rocked her, sang to her and left her in the NICU. I left her with Him.
During all of this, the chest tube was the moment that I felt confident about going home. I felt confident that this was the thing that would make the fever stop, make the IVs stop, make the healing start. I was also unphased by what else they could do to me. My focus was on getting better so I could focus on Zoe. So I could be the mommy I wanted so badly to be. To have those moments that I had envisioned.
When you have a chest tube put in, you are awake. They numb the area, but it's a surface numbing. You can feel everything about it, except the part on your skin. Because you are coherent, you have an active role in the procedure. At least I did. I can remember laying there, feeling the pain of a tube being inserted between my ribs and then I couldn't breathe.
I had lost my ability to breathe. It was like someone was holding my nose and mouth shut and I couldn't do anything to stop it.
All the noise of the room stopped. Everything went calm. I remember praying, "God, just take care of her. She's in your hands now." At that moment it felt like I was kissed. My lips felt touched. My breath returned.
I layed on the table, able to breathe and listening to the hurried sounds of people coming into the room. A woman ran up to me and placed a mask on my face. A man on the other side of me held my hand.
A peace washed over me. I knew, without a shadow of a doubt, both Zoe and I would be okay. The Great Physician was on call. He was in the NICU. He was guiding the doctors and nurses. He was getting us through this.
Just as I felt it would, my fever disappeared and I was cleared to go home on February 13th. That afternoon I said a tearful good-bye to Zoe. I held her, rocked her, sang to her and left her in the NICU. I left her with Him.
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Making of Our Family - Part VII
The majority of the danger of continued problems with my liver had subsided by the 28th. I seemed to be out of the danger zone. The drains in my abdomen had slowed. A couple of the IV's were taken out. That horrid jugular vein IV was removed.
I had started to feel a little more normal. I didn't seem as tied to bags of fluid around my bed anymore. The shock of the situation had begun to lessen. I was ready to get in a wheelchair and see my daughter. N was more than ready to introduce me.
The day was filled with visitors. Family who were leaving that day wanted to say good-bye. Nurses who were there when I wasn't coherent wanted to introduce themselves. The lactation specialist was ready for me to start pumping. And Nurse Becky wanted to make sure I was okay.
She had been checking on Zoe for me and assured me she was perfect. She also wanted to share with me those moments of her birth that I had missed. Her first cry and the color of her skin. God sent Becky to be my eyes. What neither N nor I knew when she first came into the Labor and Delivery room that Friday afternoon was that Becky is a Christian.
Not only was she my nurse, she was the one that God had chosen to spring to action to save both Zoe and me. As I lay there, unconscious and broken, Becky was praying for me and for Zoe. The second that she heard Zoe's cry, she fell to her knees and praised God. It was His servant that He entrusted Zoe and I to. She was the one who would pray and thank Him when I couldn't.
After hearing how great Zoe looked at birth, I had more confidence in seeing her. I was still scared of the unknown, but beyond ready to meet her.
N wheeled me into the NICU area and taught me how to scrub my hands so I wouldn't transfer any germs to Zoe. He told me to not touch her too much as that uses calories for her and she needs every calorie she can get.
As he wheeled me past all the isolets with small babies in them, I realized she was 2 days old. Would I recognize her? Would she know me at all? How do I make up for the lost 48 hours?
Then I saw her. She was laying on her back, in a "frog" position. Her skin was pink and somewhat translucent. I was afraid to touch her, not wanting her to lose any calories or to bother her thin skin. The nurse assured me that as long as I kept my hand on her still, she would be fine.
I reached my hand through the small window on the isolet and placed my hand on her leg. Then I began talking to her. At the sound of my voice, she opened her eyes to see me.
N and I had our first moment as a family. The moment we dreamt of on her due date, still 10 weeks in the future. We both had to go through the ordeal, both had to surrender ourselves to Him. On January 28th, we were both the parents Zoe deserved. It wasn't just the three of us in that moment, He was there. He was the foundation for the first time in our lives together. All the fears, all the worries vanished. He would carry us. He had carried us. We just finally saw Him clearly.
I had started to feel a little more normal. I didn't seem as tied to bags of fluid around my bed anymore. The shock of the situation had begun to lessen. I was ready to get in a wheelchair and see my daughter. N was more than ready to introduce me.
The day was filled with visitors. Family who were leaving that day wanted to say good-bye. Nurses who were there when I wasn't coherent wanted to introduce themselves. The lactation specialist was ready for me to start pumping. And Nurse Becky wanted to make sure I was okay.
She had been checking on Zoe for me and assured me she was perfect. She also wanted to share with me those moments of her birth that I had missed. Her first cry and the color of her skin. God sent Becky to be my eyes. What neither N nor I knew when she first came into the Labor and Delivery room that Friday afternoon was that Becky is a Christian.
Not only was she my nurse, she was the one that God had chosen to spring to action to save both Zoe and me. As I lay there, unconscious and broken, Becky was praying for me and for Zoe. The second that she heard Zoe's cry, she fell to her knees and praised God. It was His servant that He entrusted Zoe and I to. She was the one who would pray and thank Him when I couldn't.
After hearing how great Zoe looked at birth, I had more confidence in seeing her. I was still scared of the unknown, but beyond ready to meet her.
N wheeled me into the NICU area and taught me how to scrub my hands so I wouldn't transfer any germs to Zoe. He told me to not touch her too much as that uses calories for her and she needs every calorie she can get.
As he wheeled me past all the isolets with small babies in them, I realized she was 2 days old. Would I recognize her? Would she know me at all? How do I make up for the lost 48 hours?
Then I saw her. She was laying on her back, in a "frog" position. Her skin was pink and somewhat translucent. I was afraid to touch her, not wanting her to lose any calories or to bother her thin skin. The nurse assured me that as long as I kept my hand on her still, she would be fine.
I reached my hand through the small window on the isolet and placed my hand on her leg. Then I began talking to her. At the sound of my voice, she opened her eyes to see me.
N and I had our first moment as a family. The moment we dreamt of on her due date, still 10 weeks in the future. We both had to go through the ordeal, both had to surrender ourselves to Him. On January 28th, we were both the parents Zoe deserved. It wasn't just the three of us in that moment, He was there. He was the foundation for the first time in our lives together. All the fears, all the worries vanished. He would carry us. He had carried us. We just finally saw Him clearly.
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