Things 1, 2, and 3...

July 26, 2014:

Today was the big gender reveal day.  Not that we are one of "those" people who have a special cake made, or have a party, but we did have an ultrasound done to check on the babies...yes, I did say babies.  My denial phase is still intact, and every visit to the OB or ultrasound, I am sure something is going to change, but not as of yet.  In fact, the last OB appointment, my doctor said, "you may want to begin accepting the fact that there are 2 babies...." So, I am working on that.

The twins are sitting "head to head"

Etta was a little less than patient during the scan, but Spencer did manage to at least keep her in the room without too much screaming, with the help of her favorite snack, red grapes.  This scan really helped me begin to accept that I really would have 3 kids under 3, and possibly 3 kids under 2, depending on when they would be born.  The stenographer painstakingly scanned each limb, internal organ, and couldn't find a defect in either baby.  I guess I have just seen too much in working at Primary Children's Hospital to automatically show optimism.  I seem to always remember the critically ill patients, and not the ones that did recover.  Anyway, this scan helped put my mind at ease a bit, except for the fact that we will be having 3 GIRLS!

Twin A:  Never stopped moving during the scan, and even "waved" to us.

Twin B:  A little less excited to meet the camera, and sat mostly still until she startled when hearing her own heartbeat and turned away.   

Etta helped us announce our pregnancy with her "Thing 1" shirt:

Perhaps you've heard rumors; and this one is true. That soon we will have a Thing 1 and Thing 2. But, wait just a minute, what's that we see? Not only Thing 2, but also a Thing 3!!

It worked!

May 4, 2014:

Today was the day that I got the call from fertility clinic...not the one I typically expect of "well, we will try again next cycle," but "It worked!  You are pregnant."  They also said that my HCG levels were very elevated, about 850 above the normal pregnancy number, so I would need to schedule an early ultrasound to make sure everything was OK.  They also said it "could mean multiples...."  The pregnancy news was met with excitement, but also some pretty strong reservations.  As we were beginning treatments again, my sister, Whitney, had her baby Jude after only 5 months of "cooking," and I was nervous for that possibility, as well as handling pregnancy with a spunky 18 month old.  And then there was the possibility of more than one.  I had jokingly said many times that I would like to have more than one baby at once so I wouldn't have so many rounds of fertility treatments.  As this became more of a reality in my mind, I reasoned with myself that it was hard enough to get pregnant with one, that two or more was just out of the question.

But, I have long since realized that I don't typically get a say in these type of matters, so I decided to choose optimism (with just a little skepticism).  That was until the "morning" (or all day & night) sickness hit.  I was pretty sure I might die, or invert my stomach from so much vomiting.  But, I am here writing this, so it didn't happen.

Adding to the nausea and sickness, I went to my first 6 week ultrasound appointment.  I guess I am a little tainted when it comes to optimism about having kids, and am usually sure they will find something wrong.  The doctor began the ultrasound and had trouble finding anything.  He said a couple of times that he just couldn't see anything in my uterus.  I was sure this was the case, and began my grieving process on the exam table.  However, a couple of seconds later, he said "oh...what have we done here?"  Now, what is THAT supposed to mean?  He ended up finding two yolk sacks, and said the probability of twins was high, and he would consider me pregnant with twins at the moment.  He also cautioned us, saying that sometimes, even though there are two sacks, things don't turn out.  I was happy with possibility of even just one, and so my denial of two began...

Released!

Sunday morning, around 7 am, the surgeons came around for the usual rounds and said they were sure Etta was ready to go home.  She had slept very well through the night, barely waking up for her vital checks.  And to be honest, I was just as "out" that night.  Thanks to my Mom, I was able to sleep more soundly.  She selflessly offered to sleep at the hospital with us, so I could get more sleep.

We walked out of the hospital around 10 am.  I felt so excited to get her home and begin recovering where she could really heal.  We have been so blessed throughout this ordeal and have seen some amazing "tender mercies."

Etta continues to do well and is basically off her pain meds.  She is wanting to get back to her "life" and ate her first full serving of rice cereal today.  She also spent quite a lot of time in her Bumbo seat, actively playing with her toys.  I'm beginning to see glimpses of the fully healed Etta.  Keep those coming!!

And the poop came...

Hopefully, if you are reading this for the first time, you kinda know some background about my daughter, Etta, and her recent surgery to eliminate her Stoma, due to Heirshprung's Disease.  If not, the title of this entry is a little weird.  

Etta had a rough night, and seemed to be uncomfortable most of the night.  But I didn't think it was due to actual surgery pain, but her bowels beginning to wake up again and the trauma of taking a scalpel to guts.  So, I decided to hold her last night to help ease her discomfort.  It seemed to work, and she began burping and squirming.  After the surgery, we haven't been able to hold her much, as it seems to make her more uncomfortable.  

We were rewarded at 6:05 this morning, as I was nearing the end of my rope trying to comfort her hurting tummy with a bowel movement.  This step is huge in the process of healing from this surgery because it indicates the bowels have begun to heal and are ready to process food again.  :)

Although Etta has been cleared to take clear fluids every 3 hours, she is not interested in eating and promptly boycotts the idea by sealing her lips together a letting out her "warning" yell.  So, I have been warned, but will continue to encourage her to eat.  

Future in Medicine

After receiving the order that the Anderson tube could be removed (the tube going down Etta's nose and into her stomach to suction fluid), the nurse got her supplies ready, gloved up, and started to talk about how happy Etta would be when the tube was removed.  She warned us that Etta may hate her for a moment, but would be grateful to have the tube gone.  Admist this "boring" adult conversation, Etta literally take matters into her own hands, and snuck her right hand across her face, grabbed, and pulled.  Before we could react, Etta had removed her own Anderson tube.  And the nurse was right...she is much happier!!

The night I became "that Mom..."

This morning at 6 am, following a pretty dramatic blood draw, I began to realize I had turned the corner to becoming "that Mom..."
You know, the one that the nurses turn on their best "customer is right" smile and attitude in response to "Momma knows best."  When I worked at Primary Children's, I remember seeing Moms doing things that just seemed a bit "crazy."  One particular instance I remember was one of the sickest patients I ever got to help.  He needed quite a few interventions to breathe, and was not doing well.  I spent many sessions with this kid and Mom utilizing relaxation techniques for them both.  One day, I came in and she was standing bedside, straining her back and neck, tirelessly holding up his head.  She held this position for days.  I invited her several times to come and sit down, and she tersely replied, "No.  Can't you see this is helping him."  I thought, "Actually, no, can't you see that he breathes the same no matter his head position and you are adding undue stress to your back?"  Of course I DID NOT say that, but didn't really understand her "crazy" at that moment.  I am proud to say I now understand...
When your kid is hurting and there is absolutely nothing you can do, you begin to "find things" that you are ultimately sure make them more comfortable.  Although to the outside observer, these things make no difference, and honestly seem a little neurotic, it is our way of coping with being unable to take away the pain and discomfort.  So we pretend that our crazy little measures of comfort are of medical necessity...things like blanket position, length of time the mobile plays, the dimness of the lights, how loud your husband is watch TV, and many other small details.  And you better be on the lookout if you happen to be the one who changes any of these things...Don't mess with my baby!

Recovering...

Etta's surgery was complete today around 1 pm.  The surgeon said everything went well, and she did well under anesthesia (one of my greatest concerns).  They called us twice during the process to let us know everything was on track and she was stable.  One of my strong points definitely IS NOT waiting...I would rather just ACT and get a move on things.  I guess I will learn someday....

Here we are waiting again.  She is very stable and we are "waiting" for her to become more alert.  However, this waiting I am more than OK to prolong.  The charge nurse working today said that this particular surgery is one of the more painful she sees, so if Etta is comfortable, I am too.

She officially has lost the "poop shoot," as Spencer has named it and has the incision to prove it.  Instead of being able to complete the surgery lapriscopically, they did have to open her stoma site for greater access to "pull down" the good intestine and connect it.  The surgeon seemed like this surgery was a walk in the park and very common, but it sure is a big deal to us!  Getting rid of the stoma is a great feeling.

After Surgery

It has been so nice to draw on connections with friends and family while here.  My sister, Whitney was working in the PACU today, and was able to see her right when she came out of surgery.  My niece, Nicole works on the unit she is staying on, and comes to see us regularly   Some of my old colleagues have stopped to say hello and offer support.  Overall, I think is doing well right now, her pain is being controlled, and she is sleeping peacefully.