Dreamers embrace routines

One of us is way more excited about this walk than the other.

It has taken some getting used to.

We waited forever for Kenna to come home.  And we worked our butts off to make it happen.

We struggled to make the home ready for her, safe for her.  We struggled to learn how to care for her, since this little one came home with hardware and pumps and monitors...oh my.

It wasn't easy.

Ah, but we know that anything worth having is worth working for.  Anything worth doing is worth doing well.  We don't do anything halfway.

So we threw ourselves into being Kenna's parents.  And it worked.  Kenna is thriving.  We are thoroughly exhausted.  Finally we have managed to get organized.  We have managed to establish a routine.

Parents live and die by routines.

In having a routine, I am able to accomplish more.  I am writing more for Yahoo!.  I am writing maintaining Suddenly *Not So *Single Journey five days a week again.  I'm even dabbling over here, rekindling my dreams.

Most importantly...I have started exercising again.

Technically, I started two weeks ago.  I worked out twice that week.  I hurt so bad, I took the weekend off and most of the following week.  I managed to exercise again twice that week.  But on Monday, I vowed to start the week right.  I wanted Kenna to get some fresh air.  So, I am walking with my little girl.  She mostly sleeps in the stroller.  And I'm good with that.

I have even managed to get more work done around the house.  We are organizing and remodeling...for a change.  And it is starting to feel comfortable to me.  I needed that...on account of I spend so much time at home.  

Before I know it, life will be a comfortable new normal.  I'll be back in my writing groove.   I'll be feeling fabulous about our year.  I hate feeling like I am wasting time.  Time...is precious.  And time with family and friends...even more precious.

Hope you have time for family and friends and that your routines let you grow.

Dreamers believe...

Make your life full of sunshine and rainbows.

There was a post I read on Facebook yesterday:

Having a sad afternoon. Overwhelmed by both the mass media and by individuals and groups very nearby. Feeling like those who are greedy and selfish really do out number those who are giving and compassionate.

The post made me sad.  

I don't believe that for one moment.  How could I?

For the most part, I am blessed to be surrounded by good people.  The reason for this is that I have no room in my life for bad people.  They drain the happy and the positive energy.  They create a black cloud and take up space in my head that I need for other things.

I believe that the mass media is too quick to report all the bad stuff going on in the world and sensationalize it.  I think this is why so often the bad seems overwhelming.  So, I have all but stopped watching the news.  Too much negativity.

There is good all around us, everywhere, every day.  We just need to dig deep and search.  And the funny thing is that once we start practicing that, it is easier to do.  It takes less effort to find the good.

Yesterday, I was sad and overwhelmed.  I took my moment to grieve, to let it all go, and then I worked to find my happy.  It didn't take much.  Kenna is doing so well.  I credit all the love and attention she receives in our care.  We have patiently and diligently worked to make our home comfortable and esthetically pleasing.  I am blessed with a loving and supportive husband who is great at talking through everything with me.  We share common goals and dreams.  We make beautiful plans.

Yes, there are bad people in this world.  Yes, bad things happen.  It's all how I choose to react to it that makes the impact on my life.  It's all about who I choose to share my life with.  It's okay to be selective.  It's okay to let people go.  It's important to make the changes that will help me get where I want to be and have a life I'm proud of, a life that makes me happy, a life where I can share happiness with those I love.

Feel like there are too many bad people in the world?  Make sure you eliminate the bad people from your world and you'll feel much better. 

When dreams are placed on hiatus...

Meet our little dreamer. Kenna is a very big adventure.

I started this blog about a year and a half ago as Sam and I were researching our options.  We knew that we wanted a different life, a better life, a life less ordinary.  Winter is always a rough time in the construction business and we have months of down time.  Yes, MONTHS.

Now you might think this is wonderful.  Oh, but we are purpose driven creatures.  And when Sam suddenly has no purpose, things get tense.  He frets.  He frowns.  He is no joy to be around.  And still, I love him through it.

We were looking at living those down months...elsewhere.  We toyed with the idea of owning a sailboat, traveling the Caribbean, making a living online.  Then we soon discovered that we weren't meant to sail.

While there is something truly beautiful about sailboats...and we loved ours...a 27ft Lancer...there is more to it than that.  They are a lot of work.  Sailing is no small task.  It's not all pretty sails and sunshine.  Nope, there is docking...which after crashing over Memorial Day we realized we clearly sucked at.  There is a lot of maintenance.  And so many things can go wrong no matter how well you prepare.  This we discovered over Fourth of July when despite leaving at the perfect time for the tidal charts, despite having an experienced sailor with us, and despite having plenty of gas, we were dead in the water when a u-bold broke that held the front stay and our entire mast, jib, and main, came down.

It seemed like we were destined for adventures on land, or by cruise ship.  And cruise ships aren't cheap.

We started a new adventure: marriage.  We just celebrated our first anniversary on Monday.  And with that new adventure, we decided to get to work on the biggest adventure of all: raising a child together.  Kenna was easy to make, but ridiculously hard to come by.  She was born 16 weeks too soon after weeks of bed rest and tons of complications. 

I wouldn't change a moment of it.  How could I?  Because of all we've been through together, that baby and I have a special bond.  We have a deep understanding.

And because of all the special care she still needs and receives, from therapists coming to the house, to the many appointments with her pediatrician and a host of specialists, our adventures are limited.  Why, my typical adventure is now grocery shopping or running errands.  Exciting stuff.

That is why I currently live vicariously through others.  I explore their adventures.  I gather ideas and fine tune our plans.  It is enough.  For now.

This revised dream...involves an RV.  Yes, we will be land lovers and visit the water.  It's safer that way.  One day, we will be ready for our adventures to begin again.  We will find new purpose for the off months.

But first, I need to fund it.   

Letter to a new NICU mom

Dear Christine,

I know how very challenging it is to be a mom.  And you are suddenly a mom in spades: triplet girls, all sharing the NICU with Kenna.  It's something like being baptized with fire I imagine.

As the seasoned mom of two teens and a 24 week preemie, if I can offer any advice or insight into this experience it is this...

First and foremost, bask in the beauty of each moment.  It is so easy to get wrapped up in all the medical speak.  It is so easy to be distracted by all the tubes and probes.  See past all that and enjoy each special moment with your babies.  I know that each day, Sam and I would go in there and get the updates on Kenna's medical condition and then focus on all the good stuff...like whose fingers and toes she had, what color her hair was going to be, and all her adorable expressions. 

Remember that while the NICU and your babies are the focus of your life, you still need to achieve a balance to stay sane and healthy.  While there are nurses to care for your babies at night, don't feel guilty taking in a movie with your husband or taking a day trip as this journey goes on.  It will mean so much to your mental health and the babies need a sane mommy.  Sam and I ran away to the beach for a day trip.  We visited Kenna before we left and we called and checked on her when we made it home that evening.  And in the middle, we connected like we so desperately needed to.

Keep in mind, daddys are different from mommys.  I need to be there every day.  I need to see and hold Kenna.  I need to speak to the doctors and nurses and be on top of everything.  Sam needs to focus on work during the week and comes on the weekends.  It isn't that he is deserting me or not supporting me, it's not that he doesn't care about his daughter.  It's all about making sure Kenna has a home to come home to.  You and your husband will figure out what works for you.

This is a roller coaster ride.  The highs are so high.  The lows are gut wrenching.  There will be many of both.  In the end, you will be able to look back and see more good than bad.  You will bask in the each small victory.  And when the lows happen, you will put on your game face.  Know that it can change so quickly...even in the course of a day.  The day that Kenna was diagnosed with NEC, she wasn't quite herself in the morning and by five in the evening she was limp and practically lifeless.  If I didn't believe in the power of having primaries before that, NEC sealed it. 

Which brings me to the this suggestion: find your babies some primaries.  I have night primaries and day primaries.  I love the team of nurses assembled.  They are smart and funny and talented and everything I could hope for.  They are superb communicators, whether it means sharing news or talking me off a ledge.  They help me hold it together.  They help me even more when I can't.  They are part mind reader, part miracle worker and all heart.  My primaries send me pictures and messages by text.  They are more than nurses and have become friends and family.  You will need that.

Never forget that you are the mom.  You can stand up to the doctors and offer your opinion.  I spoke to the doctors about how I wanted to approach the Bubble CPAP after NEC.  I voiced my thoughts on feedings.  I have questioned the necessity of tests.  I'm Kenna's biggest cheerleader and her biggest protector.  I have known her longer than anyone.  The same is true for you and your girls. 

During this time, don't be afraid to ask for what you need from your husband, from the nurses, from the doctors, from friends and family.  It's okay to tell people that they can't come to the hospital right now, that they will see the girls when they come home.  It's okay to tell your husband that you are tired and can't cook.  It's okay to take it easy.  It's okay not to be in touch with everyone every day.  They will understand.  Take care of you so that you can be there for the girls. 

Most of all, understand the importance of positive thinking.  Miracles happen every day.  If you look hard enough, you can find the good in everything.  When Kenna was diagnosed with NEC, I decided that, on the bright side, I could now work on building up my milk storage.  When I brought clothes she couldn't wear yet, I looked at it as less laundry.  And when there was no progress, I rejoiced that she was stable.  There is always a silver lining. 

I'm sure I have way more advice to impart, but it will all come in time.  Just know that you are surrounded by many caring people.  Let them take care of you and your girls.

Dreamers apologize...

I'm sorry that I haven't been writing as much.  I'm sorry that I haven't been doing well with keeping you informed and in the loop. 

To say that we have been busy is a gross understatement. 

We have about torn the house apart over the past month.  There is an order to all remodeling projects.  And what started as a simple plan of replacing the ancient carpeting in the house with hardwoods so that Kenna could breathe became so much more.  The ceiling in the bedroom had to be scraped first.  The walls had to be painted.  It forced us to finally commit and finish the great room.  It made is finally paint the hall and change out that light.  It forced us to finally turn our master bedroom into the oasis we needed.

I've been busy reconnecting with Rachel.  In so many ways, we are back where we were before with the constant communication and sharing.  There are still some wounds that need to heal, but this is a very promising start.

And I've been busy with court.  It's a long story.  Let's just say that our gentleman's agreement only works if both parties adhere to it.  I'm a lady.  I've kept my word.  And my ex...well, he is no gentleman. 

Bishop has been a challenge as of late.  The floors are a bit much for him.  He acts like Bambi on ice.  And he's been sick.  The seasonal allergies are killing him.

What little free time I have goes to cleaning and gardening and time with Kenna...because Sam has given me the house of my dreams, so I need to take care of it.  He's given me the gardens of my dreams (herb and vegetable) so I have to maintain them.  And we all know that Kenna is what happens when two dreamers fall in love.  She's had a bit of a rough spell, but I just go and love her through it.  It's working.

Kenna is in a crib now.  And she's doing so much better breathing.  And if we can just get this feeding thing under control...she'll be practically ready to come home. 

There's this magical place we've heard about...the Special Care Nursery.  It's where babies go to grow and feed before coming home.  It's the last stop in the hospital.  And we're working on getting there.  It's close.  I can feel it.

And while we work toward all this...my apologies for not being better at posting.  Of course you can follow our progress daily on Facebook. 

Dreamers know sometimes wishes are horses

You know the saying.

If wishes were horses, then beggars would ride.

Well, this dreamer is riding.

Exactly six months ago, Rachel moved out.  It wasn't a nice move.  It wasn't an easy move.

I was pregnant and having her leave so abruptly on such bad terms to go live with her boyfriend really hurt my feelings.  And I didn't know how our relationship would ever recover.  There were plenty more hurts along the way.  She ignored my Thanksgiving calls and texts.  She wasn't in touch for Christmas while I was on bed rest.  She ignored my congrats over her graduation and we weren't invited.  And she never contacted me when I had Kenna.

I often wondered how we could ever repair that damage.  The truth is...love finds a way.

I heard she was having some problems and I did what mothers do.  I reached out.  I knew that stubborn teenage pride would prevent her from contacting me.  And so I contacted her.  A door that was once closed, locked, and nailed shut...opened.

We have been talking daily since by text and on the phone.  The closeness we always shared didn't die.  It didn't even fade.  It's more patina now.

We're making plans to all get together, to mend broken bonds between Rachel and step-Sam.  He took this just as hard as I did.  He and Rachel had a great relationship...the closeness I had always hoped she'd have with her own father.  They talked and joked around.  He took her job hunting, helped her return applications and brought her to interviews.  He would pick her up from school and bring her to the doctor.  He was the best extension of me.  And together, they would do really sweet things for me...like make dinner, plan surprise parties, and buy me presents.

I've missed our family.  Sure, Keenan has been more outgoing without Rachel around.  At the same time, I need all my children with me.  To say that I'm thrilled to have her in our life again would be a gross understatement.  We're all going to benefit from this.  Rachel needs her mom.  She even needs step-Sam.  Kenna, she will have a big sister and a big brother.  And Keenan won't be stuck in the middle...not that he ever seems impacted by tension.

This dreamer is riding high and riding happy.  Life is good.

Dreamers know that questions lead to answers

It's been a crazy couple of days for Kenna.

She hasn't had anything to eat since Monday afternoon.  And according to our nurses, she won't have anything to eat until at least Friday.  She has to get rid of all of the dye from the last test yesterday so that they can do an upper GI test. 

Rumor has it, she was really good.  And apparently she has been more mellow, but not in the concerning way.  The doctor was quick to assure me that she was still our little spit fire.  And I like that.

So for now, we have more questions than answers, but I have to believe that the answers will come.

There is a good chance that there is simply a blockage somewhere.  Or maybe there is some scarring from the NEC.  There has to be a reason why our baby, who used to eat like a champ and never had residuals, now doesn't digest an entire meal. 

And we need to figure it out soon.  My freezer runneth over.

Yeah, I know.  We haven't talked about my milk supply in such a long time.  I figured you kind of missed it.  All I can say is...our freezer is full.  I have virtually no solid food in it.  Thank goodness Dad and Vicki had a freezer for us.  I don't know what we'd be doing otherwise.  And to think Sam was worried we had purchased it for nothing.  Ha!

So, I'm waiting for Sam to go and visit Kenna today.  It will be a later visit.  And I'm good with that.  It gives me time to get more writing done.  I have been slacking lately.  I've just been having a difficult time concentrating on anything productive.  I've been mostly killing time until I can see Kenna.  And I know it's bothering Sam.  He's focused on work and taking care of our family.  And I focus on taking care of our family and getting Kenna well.  There's a good overlap there.

We'll get through this.  Soon we'll have the answers we need.  Kenna will get better.  And she'll come home.  Not soon enough, but for good.  And that is the happy thought I hold on to.
 

Dreamers have faith

That's what today is all about.

Kenna has been having trouble with her feedings.  And she never had trouble with feeding before the NEC. 

It's troubling.

As I write, she is NPO.  In layman's terms, she can't eat anything.  And she hasn't been able to eat anything since yesterday evening. 

I was there just after her five o'clock feeding to hold her.  We do that every day.  And so I went and snuggled my baby.  It's a super special time.  I cherish every moment of it.  I was feeling guilty for a while.  I was the only one in the pod who was able to hold her child.  And I knew the other parents would look at me longingly.  Finally, all the other babies are big enough, stable enough to get held.  And I looked around the pod at all of us moms holding our babies and just beaming.  It was perfect.

What wasn't perfect was listening to the doctor tell me that they had run a bunch of tests on Kenna.  I will admit I held my breath for a moment as I waited for the results.  I knew Kenna looked good, but sometimes that means that she needs a transfusion.  Only this time, all the test looked good.  There is no sign of infection.

Still, they are doing gut rest.  And my nurse, one of my primaries, the same one who caught the NEC, has asked that they do a GI study.  She knows Kenna.  She knows my baby loves to eat.  And so we hope that the results will give us an idea, assuming that they agree to do this.

So, we wait. Only I'm not really worried.  Kenna is tough.  The doctors and nurses are observant and talented and so dedicated to a positive outcome.  And we have so many people thinking good things and praying prayers of strength and healing.  What do I have to worry about? 

Yeah, I can't think of anything either.  I'll just keep everyone aware of what's going on.  I'll just keep on loving Kenna through it.  And I'll just keep believing that this is just another speed bump along her long journey home.

Kenna's Necklace from LightShine Designs

So yesterday was Easter and today is Kenna's three month birthday.  She's a big three month old girl today.  Yay, Kenna!

And we are all about making memories.  So, we made sure we spent some time at the hospital with our girl.  It's super important.  I'm not just sitting around at the hospital during that time, even though I am.  What I'm really doing is helping my baby heal.  She breathes better from snuggling on my chest and hearing me breathe, hearing my heart beat.  She is easier going and relaxes more.  (When I heard that, I had to double check and make sure that she wasn't sick.  Kenna is usually pretty feisty.)

The big thing is that she not come unglued all the time.  She can't gain weight that way.  She has to be calm.  And those words do not usually describe my baby girl.

So, I was sitting on the couch in the garage trying to get some work done the other day when Sam brought me the mail.  And I was super excited when I saw the package from my friend Rebecca, owner of LightShine Designs.  She makes custom jewelry.  Most recently, she made me custom jewelry.  Rebecca contacted me and asked about making a piece for Kenna.  She asked me for some ideas, and when I opened the package, I realized how perfect it was, how well she had listened. 

The custom necklace has a 'K' for Kenna and a purple crystal butterfly because that's what I'm doing her bedding in...purple butterflies.  It is perfect.  And I couldn't wait to wear it for the first time on Easter Sunday.

I held Kenna and told her the story of the necklace.  I told her that one day it would be hers.  She seemed to like that.  She slept with her hand wrapped around the chain.  And I'm sure as she gets older and more aware she will admire the butterfly and know that the 'K' is for Kenna. 

If you want a magical piece that is custom made, contact Rebecca.  She has a ton of pictures of the jewelry she has made on her LightShine Designs fan page.  And the pieces that she has up for sale can be found on her Etsy page.  I love her wire wrapped stone necklaces.  I plan on dropping many hints to Sam.  I mean, Mother's Day is coming. 

All I know is how much I appreciate this piece.  It's hard to find affordable custom made jewelry.  And it is so special to have something so meaningful.  Thank you, Rebecca!

Dreamers have heartfelt realizations

Meredith put the CPAP hat Linae made on Kenna's March of Dimes bunny.

I used to feel like I didn't know Kenna at all.  I was kind of hurt that her nurses knew her better.  Meredith had seen her sucking her thumb.  And I hadn't.  Caroline had such a sweet little nickname for her.  Kenna's their little bird.  Samantha started her Beads of Courage.  Ginger passed out her footprints to the nurses.  Linae dressed up her CPAP hat with a bow.  And that's only a few examples from part of the team that cares for Kenna. 

In some ways, I suppose I felt left out. 

I would go and talk to her.  I would sometimes touch her through her womb room portholes.  It was super important that we go at times that we could participate in her care. 

Sometimes the nurses would ask me questions about Kenna.  And I wouldn't know the answers.  I felt like she was more theirs than ours.

Over the last few weeks, that feeling has changed.  It was so gradual that I barely noticed.  Until about 2am.  Yeah, I have a habit of falling asleep watching television.  Normally that means that we're in the living room and I'm asleep in Sam's lap until wakes me up to go to bed.  Lately, it has meant our bedroom because the living room and the rest of the house have been a construction zone.  I have been waking up to the television still on in our room at 2am, then calling the hospital to check on Kenna.

She's almost three months old.  Three months.  One fourth of the first year of her life and she's spent it in the hospital.  That makes me sad.  And yet I know that is where she needs to be.

Last night, as I lay there, I realized how well I know my daughter.  I know her moods, when she's coming completely unglued.  I know how to soothe her...and it usually involves my voice and my touch as opposed to a pacifier.  I know her little fingers and toes.  (I love baby fingers and toes.) 

The other day, I just stood there playing with her stinky feet and she let me.  She watched me do it.  She discovered that Mommy can touch her feet and not hurt her.  She is used to feet touching resulting in a blood draw from her heel for her blood gases.  Instead, I touched her toes and told her all about the fun we would have playing 'This Little Piggy.' 

One of her doctors caught me in the hall yesterday.  She commented that Kenna looked amazing and she was convinced that she was going to make it.

me: You're convinced?  We've been convinced.  We just wonder when she will come home.

doctor: Well, that will still be a while.  Thank goodness you're normal.

Now, I've been called a lot of things in my life, normal is not one of them.  And I might have even been a bit insulted.

me: Normal?

doctor: Yes, you know...enjoyable to have around.

me: Oh.  Good.  Well, please don't let that influence your discharge decisions.  I'll bring her back for visits.  I promise.

Yes.  We're normal.  We're getting to do normal things, like getting to know our baby.  I know the wrinkles in her neck.  I know where the hair line stops on her fuzzy little head.  I know she soothes to the sound of my voice and my gentle restraint.  And I know one day, she'll come home.

Dreamers need to keep their heads out of the clouds

Yeah, that's where I went wrong yesterday.  I thought about it.  And that is most decidedly where I went wrong.  I won't make that mistake again today.  Nope.  I'm on top of things.

See, my day started out super stellar.  (This would be the time my day actually started, as opposed to the middle of the night when I woke up to Bishop peeing on the carpet in the room.)  So, I was working on the laptop in the garage, since the house was taken over by flooring installation, and one of the flooring installers came over to me and handed me FOUR four leaf clovers that he found in the yard. 

I guess from that moment on I felt like I was coated in Teflon.  Everything would just bounce off me.  I was indestructible.  Right.

It was a few hours later that I was rushing to the hospital to see my baby girl.  I had to bring her milk.  And there was a lot going on.  Our window order had been suddenly delivered.  And Sam needed my help.  And I was distracted by my need to get to my pumping supplies, but my inability to do so because the house was in complete and utter chaos. 

Sam had left.  He was gone.  And I knew he was coming back, but I had no idea he would be back so quickly.  All I knew was that I needed to get going or miss time with Kenna.  So, I hopped in the car and backed out and nearly crushed Sam. 

All I saw behind me was the garbage truck.  Somehow, he had managed to pull in beside me, open his doors, and lean in to get a nail gun for the guys.  And I nailed his door, thereby nailing him. 

me: Are you okay?

Sam: I've been better.

He saw the look on my face.

Sam: I've been worse.  I'm fine!

And he headed back out.  I drove off to the hospital.  When I was just ten minutes away, after driving for a good twenty minutes, I realized in all the drama, I had forgotten the milk.  So, I had to turn around and drive back home.  I called to let our nurse know what was going on and she let me know what was going on with Kenna.

Our baby girl has stage 3 Retinopathy of Prematurity.  And she may need surgery.  In less than a week.

Stupid four leaf clovers. 

So, it's been crazy around here.  There has been huge progress on the house.  Sam is fine.  And he was never angry with me.  He was more bothered by the fact that I was upset.  He's a good husband and promises to be an amazing daddy.  I have spoken with Kenna's doctors and they aren't worried about the anesthesia, but the intubation.  She was doing so well on CPAP.  Either way, it will all work out.

I am so blessed. 

Dreamers stay ridiculously busy

Our floors in progress...

I guess it was about 2pm Monday that Sam called me at home, just as I was headed to the hospital.  And when I am at the hospital or on the way to the hospital...I don't really hear anything.  I am super focused on Kenna. 

Then I arrived home that night and realized that I was supposed to help move furniture after making and cleaning up from dinner.  That...was not my favorite night.  By the time we settled in it was after nine.  And after watching a few shows, our night was over.

Tuesday morning came entirely too quickly.  And waking up to Bishop peeing in our bedroom was not the way I planned to start my day.  Yes, Bishop is on meds after his trip to the vet.  Of course the dog is on steroids, too.  Yes, the biggest and smallest family members are rocking the 'roids.  So, he is prone to pee.  This I understand.  What I don't understand is why he didn't let us know he needed to pee.  And I also don't know why I am always on bodily function clean up. 

Being a mom is not the most glorious role I've ever had.

And then there are these moments...moments I would trade for anything.  Moments like...holding Kenna.  I rushed from the house after helping move more of our stuff.  You never realize how much stuff you have until you move or have to remove it from it's location.  Yeah.  We have plenty of stuff.

The drive to the hospital was lovely.  No traffic.  And I made it to the hospital with time to spare.  Soon enough, I was snuggling Kenna.  She does so well just laying there in my arms or up against my chest.  She just relaxes.  She lets me touch her hands and often squeezes back.  Her breathing is better.  Her sats are better.  She is calmer.  It's just the ideal situation for her...mommy-Kenna snuggle time.

We had a big meeting with one of our distributors yesterday and all the big wigs.  It was interesting.  People are never how you expect them to be.  And meetings never go precisely as planned.  I know this.  I set my expectations low and prepare for anything.  In all honesty, it went pretty much exactly how I expected.  It was Sam who was surprised and disappointed. 

Then it was an early bedtime because...we have no living room.  And there was nothing we needed to do...really.

Sam: We should spend more time in here.  We have a really nice bedroom.

me: I used to shut down the house after dinner and hang out with the kids in my room.  I love hanging out in the master bedroom.

Sam: You could have done that here.

Yeah, I could have, but if I did we wouldn't be where we are today.  We needed to bond.  He needed to learn how to share his life.  He needed to figure out how to be with someone.  And I had just about enough patience to teach him.  And I needed to get used to being with someone, too.  Marriage doesn't always mean togetherness.

So, we've been busy.  All indications are that we will be staying busy the rest of the week.  I just can't wait to get to the hospital for snuggle time.

Dreamers know good things grow

We have been busy around the house lately.  And it is so nice to start seeing the fruits of our labors.

Take the master bedroom, for example.  I am in love with the paint.  I love it.  And to think we picked right the first time.  Because that is so not our style.  The great room took forever.  Yup.  And I'm not even in love with the results.  I like the room...but not in the same way I love love love the master.

We went with a green...Irish Paddock.  Of course.  I knew I could convince my Irish man to go with a green that color, since I couldn't get the color I really wanted: Green Water.  He said it was too blue.  He hates blue in the bedroom because my old house had a blue bedroom.  There's nothing getting by him.

Ah, but what really makes the room...aside from the newly scraped ceiling...the taupe suede wall.  It's an easy paint treatment.  And it makes the room.  It's the perfect accent wall.

So, when it came time to paint the hall, since it needs to be done before the floors...I went with the same green.  And the way that new light shines on it...perfection.

What does this mean?

No more painting.  Thankfully.  Because not only do I not enjoy painting, but I rather suck at it.  Really.

Thus it's on to new projects.  We have our new windows coming in.  And the Hardie is on order.  This house will be practically new by the time Kenna comes home.  We're doing everything we can to make it energy efficient and lung friendly.

Kenna's lungs are really having a rough time.  I look forward to the day when she is healed, but the doctors and nurses tell us it could take a good year or more.  And we're already having to tell friends that they can't hold Kenna.  She has no immune system.  The doctors and nurses have warned us no one should hold her, other than her parents.   I'll do what it takes to make sure that she's healthy.  Kenna's health comes first.

And I guess that's one of the reasons I wanted to grow a garden this year.  I figured I could make baby food from all the fresh vegetables.  It's a start.  And so I'm super proud that they have started growing.

I'm working my butt off now so that when Kenna comes home, I can focus on being a mom and taking care of her.  The business should only take a few hours of my day.  That leaves plenty of snuggle time.  And that baby girl deserves all the snuggles she can get after her rough start.  We can't wait to make it up to her.

She's a rock star!

I have to brag about my baby for a bit.

See, we all know that Kenna has beat the odds, defied them at every step.  And she's doing it again.

Before she had NEC, the doctors were ready to get her started on another course of Decadron.  Then she was sick.  And the Decdron was postponed.  We had met and discussed that we wanted her to have the best possible chance to get breathing on her own, to make it to Bubble CPAP.  And that meant that she would be feeding...unless they had no choice.

Well, on Sunday...they had no choice.  Kenna was requiring too much support.  And so they had to start the Decadron.  And while I knew she would respond well to it, as she had in the past, I didn't imagine she would do this well.

I talked her through it on Wednesday. 

She was struggling.  Sure, she was used to the tube down her throat, but the nares in her nose were really aggravating her.  Poor baby girl.  And the sticker on her nose and across her face designed to hold the nasal cannulas wasn't much better.  She was pretty stinking miserable.  They told me she was going to be re-intubated because she was doing so poorly.

And I talked to her.  I told Kenna that she was smart and strong and she could do this.  I reminded her how special she was and how loved.  And she calmed down.  She settled in.  Her oxygen requirement dropped from 60% to 30% in half an hour.  She was even high sating...100!  I just laid my hand on her and kept talking.  It worked. 

I worried about leaving her, but she proved that she was strong.  Kenna just needed a little encouragement to get started.  Since then, she has been without anything several times when they have had to change her CPAP out.  Yesterday when I was there, she went without any support for fifteen minutes with no problems, not even a desat.

They started a new program for babies and children that are hospitalized at Hemby.  It's called 'Beads of Courage.'  I wanted to be a part of it, to start Kenna's bead story.  The kick off was Wednesday...the same day that Kenna started the CPAP and was struggling.  Instead, her nurse started it for her last night. 

Kenna's sign on her womb room is an owl family.  I love it.  It's perfect.  I'll be hanging it up in her room when she comes home.  And her Beads of Courage...are in an owl bag.  I'll take pictures when I get a chance. 

I'm not sure I know anyone more courageous than Kenna.  She has been through it and come out on top.  Our baby girl is a rock star. 

Thank you for thinking of her!

My little princess

Kenna getting weighed after being held for two hours.  She looks relaxed.

 

And then the bathing began.  Look at that face!

Yup.  She's definitely not happy.

Then the bathing was over.  She looked surprised...and ready to get upset again if necessary.

In minutes she was weighed, bathed, diapered, and ready to go back in her womb room.  After breathing...crib time.

Please think of Kenna as she is on Bubble CPAP.  This is a huge step.  And it is time.

Dreamers know one project leads to another

I love the new paint color.

It all started with one simple idea.  We should use my tax money to get new floors before Kenna comes home.  She has premature lung disease and the thirty year old carpets weren't going to make it any easier for her around the house.  Having already survived one preemie and knowing his special needs, we wanted to do everything we could for Kenna.

And so we picked the flooring.  It arrived.  It was delivered.  And it still sits clogging up my dining room.  It has to.  Little did I know that so many projects would stem off this one simple idea.

Oh, but in remodeling, this is what happens.  We realized that if we were going to do new floors, we'd better have the walls and ceiling just right or we'll later ruin them. 

So, the ceiling in the master bedroom needed to be scraped.  The kids' rooms had been done before we moved in...new ceilings, new paint, new carpet, new lighting, and amazing trim work.  Sam is super handy to have around. 

We had installed blinds so that my peeping ex could no longer see in and we bought curtains to go over the blinds.  But other than painting an accent wall and new lamps for the nightstands, we hadn't done anything to the master.  And I'm guessing we passed on this because we knew how much work it would be.  The kids' rooms were easy.  There was no furniture in there, nothing to work around.  It was perfect.  Our room, loaded with furniture far from perfect. 

The ceiling has been scraped and painted.  The lighting has been reattached.  The back wall is painted a lovely shade of taupe in a suede treatment.  I bet you had no idea I was so talented.  I'm not.  It's easy.  And the rest of the walls are being painted.  Yes, we are almost done.  For now.  There will be new furniture in the future. 

And the garden is very nearly planted.  It would have been all done, but for the fact that there was not enough dirt.  We have to import it since we are built on a boulder topped with clay.  It's not exactly conducive to a garden.  It's barely conducive to grass...although the weeds seem to thrive.

Just when I thought our remodeling was coming to an end...Sam and I were snuggling on the couch Saturday night.  We were proud of all we had accomplished thus far.

Sam: You know...one of my crew members blows insulation.  He said he'd give me a good price for the attic.  We're loosing a lot of heat and wasting a lot of air in this old place.

me: Yes, but what about the kitchen?

Sam: What about the kitchen.

me: Well, we talked about taking out the drop down ceiling and how you'd have to climb through the attic.  Would that still be possible?

And that is why Sam ended up taking down the kitchen ceiling last night.  We have to get that done before the insulation.  The end is in sight.  I can almost see it.  I've given this a lot of thought.  And I'm not sure there are many more projects to be completed around here.  Really.  Aside from the kitchen and master bath...we're good.

Soon, I'll share pictures to prove it.  And with any luck, Kenna will be home soon to enjoy it.

Dreamers deal with haters

Every few weeks or so, I get a really nasty comment on this blog.  You never see it.  I deal with it.  I dispose of it for all of us.  And while I'm pretty sure I know the source, the coward who hides behind the anonymous comment, and that I could simply be direct and address this individual...I decided to do what I do.  I decided to help others who all deal with mean, nasty, ugly people in their lives. 

Sure, I had that millisecond where I was hurt.  Then I remembered the eternal wisdom of Taylor Swift.  People throw rocks at things that shine.  Most of the time, I'm so happy that I practically glow.  No wonder.  And then I felt sorry for this person, like I do for all people who throw stones.  How unhappy must you be with your life that you have to reach out and try to make others miserable?  That seems pretty sad.  It makes me sad for anyone who lives like that. 

My spirit is too strong to be taken down a notch by mean words. 

You can keep sending those nasty grams, making nasty comments, dropping nasty test messages.  I'm fine.  I'm good.  I'm not going to play into any of it.  You can't hurt me.  You can't dim my light.  Let that be true for all of you.  Just remember that when people are being mean, they are trying to drag you down to their level, trying to make you hurt like they are hurting.  Don't feed the anger, feel sorry for that unhappy soul.  And stay strong.  Stay true to you.

Just shine.

Dreamers deal with numbers

For some reason...numbers played a very big part in yesterday.  I sat down with one of Kenna's primaries and she taught me much about what was going on with Kenna infection wise.  She explained the numbers...what the tests were showing, what they should look like.  And it gave me a lesson that I hadn't anticipated ever learning.  To think that I had very little interest in biology in high school.  Now...I get it.

And so I left feeling reasonably comfortable with Kenna's condition.

I had also been dealing with numbers as the phone rang and rang yesterday.  And it never rang while I was just hanging around the office.  Nope.  It waited until I was in the car.  So, I kept answering the phone and struggling to write down numbers as I drove.  When I told Sam the story later, he reacted a little differently than I anticipated.

Sam: You could have crashed.

me: I know!  And you would have lost that lead forever.

He shook his head.

Sam: Yeah, it's the lead I'd be upset about losing.

I smiled.  My husband loves me.

Sam: Don't do that again.

And I was beaming. 

We have a lot going on.  And this was the first night that we were going to relax for a few minutes for bed and watch one of our many shows.  It was when he relaxed that he started sharing with me.

Sam: I have so much on my mind.  There are a lot of things bothering me that I don't tell you about.

I lifted myself off his chest. 

me: Whoa.  Are we okay?  Is there something you want to talk about?

Sam: No, just work stuff.  We are 100% great...not even 99%.  100% great.

More numbers.  Good numbers.  Now we just need to work on Kenna's numbers.  Fight that infection, little bit.  You are tougher than that.  You show that infection who's boss.

I'm not worried.  Our girl is a fighter.

Dreamers make it happen

I was on my walk yesterday when something suddenly occurred to me.  Our life has become so surreal, so strange, and yet so comfortable at the same time.

For as long as we've been together, Sam and I have been plotting and planning this future.  I remember him saying that he figured one day he'd find someone he loved.  And then after about three years of dating, that woman would move in.  And then after a year of living together, they would get engaged.  And after that, marriage.  And maybe a few years later...a child or children.  It was this ten year relationship plan that he had in mind.  He was only 27 at the time.  And in his mind, he had all the time in the world. 

At the same time, I was encouraging him in starting his own business.  His father, from whom he had learned the ropes, was nearing retirement and Sam wanted to have his own company.  We worked on that together.  He had big plans, huge plans.  He never wanted to sub for others, but figured it was a good way to learn how others ran their companies.  Then he would just run his own jobs.  I would quit mine, run his office, and write.

There was talk about what we would do to the house.  We had a long long list of all the improvements that we wanted to make around the house.  We wanted to remodel every aspect of it.  The house has a great floor plan, ample space, and good bones, but it is dated...as any thirty year old home would be.  And we had a ten year plan to remodel it, pay it off, rent it, and buy or build a home on water. 

Here we are, a mere four years into our ten year plan. 

And I look around at all the progress we've made.  Our company is now a force to contend with.  We are finishing up our first major job of the season, siding a home so large that it is considered the equivalent of four or five houses.  We have other jobs lined up.  It feels good. 

Last winter was the first winter I didn't work outside of the home.  It damn near killed us, but we made it.  And this year, we learned from our mistakes and we're already working on saving for the winter.  We're squirreling away our nuts.  I'm stocking up on food.  Our savings is growing.  I'm incredibly encouraged.

Within the next month or so, we will have completed so much of the list that I won't need to worry over where it is.  I will know for sure that all we have left to do is some trim work, fix the fireplace, and remodel the kitchen and master bath.  Practically nothing...considering what we've accomplished over the last few years.

The amazing part to me though is our relationship.  We're married and have a baby girl in less than half the time he imagined he'd need to be ready, to be comfortable. 

I should know by now that we can accomplish anything we set our minds to.  Still, that it's all actually happening is so special to me.  I really do love our life, even our struggles.  I know they won't last.  And every time we pull through we are stronger and closer than we were before. 

Figure out what you want from this life and go get it.  See what a difference it makes to be living your dream.

Baby's got back

Kenna has been sleeping a lot.  She needs to.  It's part of her recovery.

And these moments where she is awake and alert are rare.  I don't want to mes with her much when I visit.  I don't want her awake and agitated because she isn't being fed.  She'll figure that out soon enough.  I don't need her being more aware of that.

Her nurses had picked up on that, too.  They know that she is...well, they all keep using the word 'feisty.'  And they know she has a way of getting her way, a way of getting what she wants by desating when she is upset.  So, for her health, they spoil her.

And in an effort to not irritate her any more than necessary, they even change her diaper when she is laying on her belly without flipping her over.  That's what happened yesterday.  She was asleep when the nurse went in to suction her.  And since she was already bothering her, she checked her temperature.  And if she was already doing all of that, she might just as well change her diaper.

That's when I saw it.  Kenna has the beginnings of butt cheeks!

I was so excited, I had to text Sam.

me: She has a butt.

Sam: You did it.

me: I did what?

Sam: You gave her a butt.

me: Finally, my contribution to our baby!

Seriously.  She has so many of his features.  I'm pretty sure I even had a glimpse of blue eye yesterday.  Sometimes I feel like I had very little to do with her existence.  I only had twenty-four weeks to make an impression.  Apparently, I failed miserably.

Our baby is filling out.  She is healing.  And I have high hopes that she will be home...eventually.  I can't wait. 

Dreamers face their fears and come out on the other side

I have to tell you, as the mother of a preemie, there is nothing more scary for me than hearing the words 'necrotizing entercolitis.'

Since Keenan was in the NICU, that has always been my biggest fear.  See, it's one of those conditions that can really finish a baby off.  That's why Wikipedia had the images of the autopsy with their article.  Stupid Wikipedia.  The problem is that a baby can go septic, a bowel can rupture, and death can ensue. 

To find out that Kenna had what I had always feared...well, it was really demoralizing.  We had such high spirits for so long.  She was finally moving right along with her feeds, tolerating the 30 calorie ones like a champ.  There was a Decacron plan in place to wen her off the ventilator.  And I was practically planning her baby warming.

We imagined her home in time for the March of Dimes walk that we were doing.  How great would that be to have her walking with us?  Only that's not happening now.  Her doctor told me that I should plan on her being in the NICU for another couple of months.  That's May.  That's the middle to the end of May.

Still, that's better than the alternative. 

I would rather have her safe and in the NICU than have her come home too soon get sick and...not make it.  So, we can tolerate anything. 

We faced our biggest fear.  Kenna getting NEC...that was it.  And now, we're ready to move past that.  She is out of the danger zone.  72 hours.  That's what the doctor said.  If there was going to be a complication, we would have seen it by now.

In fact, we have every indication that she is headed on the upswing.  Her sats are better.  Her blood gas is improving.  Her eyes...they opened.  Her arms are moving.  She is tolerating her care and her tests beautifully.  That's our little fighter. 

This was a speed bump on her trip through the NICU.  She's going to be just fine.

Dreamers understand each other

doctor: How is your husband doing?  How are you two doing?

That is something that the doctors seem to check with alarming regularity.  And I know why.  They need to know how we are because all of that impacts Kenna. 

And I have to admit, we're good...especially after last weekend.  We're really good at noticing when we aren't connecting as we should, as we'd like.  And so we work to fix it pretty quickly.

That's why when the doctors asked me about how we were doing, I was able to answer them honestly.  We are doing good.

me: I know he hasn't been able to be here for a couple of days, but that's a combination of things: work and his inability to come see his daughter looking really sick and in pain.  And I respect that, just like he respects my need to be here.

They looked at me and smiled.

doctor: I wish all parents got that.

I'm sure they don't.  I'm sure there is tension galore.  I'm sure there is fighting.  I've seen it.  And that isn't necessarily coming from lifers like us.  I'm beginning to think of us that way because Kenna has been in the NICU for so long.

There's something about our relationship that I'm really proud of.  Some couples, when hard times hit, they fall apart, they break down.  When tough times hit us, you couldn't break us apart with dynamite.  We get that tight.  And in times of crisis, that's how it should be.

In life...that's how it should be.

Sure, it has been an adjustment for Sam.  He wasn't used to sharing his home, then his life.  He thought I was silly with my need to snuggle on the couch with him in the evening and go to bed together every night.  Now, he craves it, too. 

I can tell because he reaches out more than he ever has.  He waits for his hugs.  He knows when I need one.  As challenging as life is right now, it has also never been better. 

We do what we always do.  We work out the kinks.  We work through the challenges.  We do it together because no matter what, that's how we want to be...together. 

Not soon enough for our liking, Kenna will come home.  We have a ways to go, especially after this hiccup.  Can you really call NEC a hiccup?  Well, it has definitely postponed her homecoming.  I don't see any way she'll be ready to come home at the end of April now.  We're thinking some time in May.  We hope.

It doesn't matter.  That just gives us more time to prepare.  The house will be perfect for her.  And we'll be perfect together. 

Just a touch of NEC

That's what we're calling it.  There are full blown cases, but she doesn't have one of those.  There are surgical cases and she isn't one of those.  Kenna's NEC is medical.  And she is gradually improving.

I was worried about her, hated leaving her, but I have so much to do that I can't be here 24 hours a day.  That is why we have the primaries.  They are moms away from moms.  That's what one of her primaries and I decided.  And I have managed to luck out and get Kenna's primaries every day this week.

As for Kenna, she is hanging in there.  She really is.  As that same primary put it, if Kenna had to get NEC, she is doing it just right.  And she is weathering it beautifully.

Sure, she has never been more still, another one of her primaries noted, but she doesn't look bad.

And I suppose that comparatively speaking...she doesn't.  Still, I am her mother and I see the changes in her.  Her eye lids are red.  They have never been red before.  The only way she demonstrates her responsiveness at the moment is through her sats.  Those decline slightly when she is fussed with.  Other than that, she is very stable.  I'm encouraged.

The doctors have commented on my attitude.  Apparently they like it.

My philosophy is that bad things happen.  It's how you face them and deal with them that makes all the difference.

So, Kenna has a touch of NEC.  She's going to make it.  The more I say it, the more I believe it.  The more I see her improving, the more I believe it.  I'm so proud of my baby girl.  She's made of tough stock.  She's fighter.

 And we are so blessed.  We are blessed to have so many people who rally for her every time she has a dip.  And we are so blessed to have Kenna come out so hardy, so strong, so ready to weather all the challenges.

We're dancing in the rain.

Dreamers search for the sunny side

I think I thought of two pounds as some magical number...like if Kenna just hit two pounds, everything would be great...she would be out of the woods.  Unfortunately, life is not like that in the NICU.  Shoot, life is not like that anywhere.

So, yesterday morning started with my normal call to the hospital.  And I was pretty much told that Kenna was doing reasonably well.  She had a poopy diaper overnight with some blood and so the feedings had been discontinued.  I had no real reason to worry since we had been through this before and discovered that...there was nothing to worry about. 

Only this time...there was.

We were busy all morning and my shower was delayed until 1pm.  Yeah.  That late.  And it was during that shower that I had a call from the former nurse doom who has since become my favorite nurse.  (I'm attributing that dark period of our relationship to her morning sickness.  She's having a little girl in July.)  I called back immediately, after feeling incredibly guilty for showering at all.  That's how it is with me.

So the nurse told me that Kenna seemed worse, that there was an ugly residual from her last feeding (they suck out her stomach contents to see that she is digesting her meals before administering a new one) and that her blood sugars were really high...like twice the high end of the normal limits high.

And I told her I'd be there as soon as I could.  First I finished what I was doing.  And then, I made it to the hospital where I saw how sick my baby was.  She didn't look horrible, but she wasn't her feisty little self.  She opened one eye to look at me, then that was the last I saw of her...or rather...she saw of me.  I was there for another two hours.

I was there while they took x-rays and ran a battery of tests on her...drawing blood, taking cultures from her endotracheal tube, and trying desperately to get a urine sample through catheterization.  It wasn't pretty.  None of it was easy.  And she was sluggish at best during every bit of it.

There is a reason I worked hard to get the primary nurses I wanted.  Having primaries means that when something isn't right with a baby, the nurse knows the baby well enough to catch it early.  Like yesterday.

Kenna has NEC (necrotizing entercolitis).  It can be fatal.  It can require surgery. And sometimes, if you are super lucky, it can be caught early enough that it can be treated with antibiotics.  We'll see where we fall over the next few days.  The antibiotics are running now.   And once Kenna is feeling a bit better, she'll be giving the nurses a really hard time for not feeding her.  I'm looking forward to that.

So the nurse and I were talking post diagnosis...

me: Well, just think of all the milk I'll be able to store over the next few weeks.

She smiled at me.

nurse: And look at you finding the positive.  Amazing.

me: That's what I do.  Just give me a minute to process and I can come up with something.

nurse: That's what Kenna needs.

I know this.  And that's why we do what we do.  That's why we are the way we are. 

Hang in there, baby girl.  You have a whole lot of people rooting for you.

Dear Kenna: a letter on daddy issues

Dear Kenna,

I hope you have Daddy issues...only not the kind that everyone else thinks of.

I hope that you grow up hoping to have someday what Daddy and I have.  I hope that you are particular and learn that some things are worth the wait.  I hope you see the way Daddy and I look at each other and want that.  I hope you see the way we work together as a team and never settle for less.

I hope that someday on your wedding day, after all the other guests have gone, your husband makes another vow to you, a private one, spoken from the heart where he promises to be the best husband to you and the best father for your children.  May this man do that every day of your lives together, strive to be the best man he can be for you and your family.

While I never wish challenges and struggles and burdens upon you, if they come, and they usually do, I hope your husband will weather the storm with you.  I hope that you never feel lost and alone.  I hope that he always has your back...and your front...and both of your sides.  And I hope that's where he is...at your side.

I hope that you will have understood over the years how important communication is.  And I hope that you will have a husband you can talk to, that you can share your hopes and dreams and fears with.  I hope he loves you enough to recognize when you are sad and sits down and asks you about it.  And I hope he pushes you to share even if you are afraid to or think you aren't ready.

May he say all the words of comfort that you need to hear in that moment and wrap you in a magical embrace that you will come to need as much as you need the air you breathe.  May his kisses soothe and heal, coming from lips that would never lie to you.  May his words come from a heart that would always be true to you.

May this man surprise you often with the depth of his feelings and the quiet ways he shows it.  Trust in what you see more than what you hear, just like you learned from your daddy.  No matter what, know that your mommy and your daddy will always be there for you to kiss your boo boos when you are little and help heal the bigger wounds when you are older.

With much love,

Mommy (& Daddy...the first man you'll ever love)

Two months already?!

Yes, today my little one turns two months old.  I can't believe it.  It has gone so quickly and dragged on all at the same time. 

I just have to look at her little face to know that we are so very blessed.

Things could have gone so horribly wrong so many times, but my little warrior pressed on and persevered.  I am so proud of her. 

It seems like it wasn't so long ago that I sat up in bed one night when I realized that what was different about  Kenna was that she no longer slept under her plastic blanket.  And then it wasn't long after that we saw an eye...then two.  She has made such progress in so many areas.  She no longer has any IVs, her central line was removed.  She is on full feeds and they keep increasing as she proves her ability to digest all they can give her.  They have increased the calories of her feeds up to the maximum of 30 from plain old milk which is 20 calories. 

She had the good fortune to be born with good skin.  Where it should have been weak and ripped, leaving her exposed to germs and infections, Kenna's has been strong.  She has always looked remarkably good for being sixteen weeks early. 

While Kenna still has that pesky PDA, it is smaller.  It doesn't seem to be negatively impacting her heart.  And there has been no further mention of potential surgery.  The longer we can wait, the better.

The number of transfusions she has been receiving has decreased greatly, too.  And there is some hope that with the new vitamin and iron supplements she is receiving that she will no longer require any.  That doesn't worry me in the least.  In time all will be healed.

So, we're still seeing progress, though it is gradual.  She has been flirting with two pounds for over a week.  There's been a lot of winking, a few cat calls, but two pounds has yet to seal the deal.  That's just the way it is.  For now.  Just like we aren't able to hold her much...for now.  And just like she is better off in the hospital...for now. 

We'll certainly be celebrating three months in the hospital...and possibly four months.  And if Mawmaw Vicki keeps bringing them goodies to celebrate, they may keep her forever.  Mawmaw Vicki's baking is that good. 

So glad you are here, Kenna Claire.  May you only remember the good times.

Dreamers make self-improvements

We've been busy working on the home for...well, forever.  And there's a lot to work on.  It's a 1980 contemporary ranch.  We love the floor plan.  We love all the space.  We don't love all the dated looks.

We have already remodeled one bathroom last summer.  And the kids' rooms have been completely updated from floor to ceiling, only we went in the opposite order, which is how all these remodels need to go.  And so. we're working on our next projects.  All we have left of the main living area is new flooring.  That is waiting on some tax return money.

Then it's on to other areas of the house.  We have the hall to repaint since the flooring will go down there, too.  We have the new lighting to get.  It's really dark in the hall.  And lighting is such a quick cheap fix.

I have this feeling that there will be some work done in the master bedroom.  It makes perfect sense.  That will be the one room that hasn't had new flooring.  And I worry about Kenna's lungs.  I worry that there will be too much old dust hanging around in the room she will be sleeping in the first year of her life.  So, if we can, we will fix that, too.

But we have to work on ourselves some.

Marriage isn't easy.  We need to take some time to connect in ways that we haven't for too long.  It's been a really long time since we've stayed up and just talked about anything other than business.  I know that it's our livelihood, but there's more than that.  There has to be more than that.

So, I bought a new dress and new shoes...for a business meeting.  It wasn't a compete transformation, but it was a lovely start.  It made me feel sexy.  And I need to feel sexy.  I need for him to see me as something more and to remember what drew him to me. 

And that we feel comfortable enough to start thinking about anything but Kenna all the time is a good sign.  It means she is improving.  It means that we are confident in her health.  And it feels really good to call the hospital and not be scared all the time.  Everything will be better in time.

Slow but steady...she's winning!

I spoke to the doctors and was heard.

Kenna won't be starting the next course of the steroids immediately.  Instead, she is starting the 30 calorie feed.  She will hopefully gain some weight.  And then we will feel more comfortable with her taking that next big step.

In addition to the change in her feedings, there is a change in that she is finally being given vitamins and iron.  Preemies have difficulty with making enough blood to keep up with the blood draws, so the iron will help.  It will also help because breast milk babies need the iron supplement.  Babies who are on formula don't have that issue because there's already iron and vitamins in the formula.

Kenna just gets what I eat.  There's a lot of hot sauce and chocolate.  There's plenty of dairy and veggies.  And because of her father...plenty of chicken.

So, we're seeing progress.  Once the steroids start, the progress should be extreme.  We're ready.  I think.

All I know is that I loved the visit yesterday, seeing Kenna so alert.  We live in the moment.  Each moment counts.

And today is eye exam number two.  We'll see if the eyes are more mature.  I think it will take lots of visits and lots of time before we get a definitive word on the eyes.  She tolerated the last exam well, but seemed worn out after.  I expect more of the same this time.

So we wait and hope for the best.

Dreamers set some conditions...

So, we knew this day would come.  We had to make some decisions about Kenna's care.

A month ago she had her first treatment of Decadron.  It's a steroid.  And while she didn't get any muscles or suffer any 'roid rage, she didn't manage to get strong enough to breathe on her own for long either...a mere 24 hours and 50 minutes.

We worried for a long time after that.  It seemed like the experience nearly killed her.  She was completely worn out after that.  And it has taken virtually a month for her to get back to where she was breathing wise.  Her weight has been on the rise.  In truth, although they have skirted the issue and mentioned a second course of the Decadron, I have hesitated to move forward.

More than anything I wanted her to be stronger and gain more weight before we went that direction.  On top of that, Kenna hates laying on her back.  What does one have to do with the other?  Well, funny you should ask.

The bubble CPAP mostly has to be done while the baby is laying on the back.  My little fighter will position herself.  And I worry that she will be so mad laying on her back that this won't work.  Ever since she discovered the joy on being on her belly, it has been her comfort position.

Whenever she gets upset, it's onto her belly to calm down.  And it works.  Her sats go up.  Her breathing is better.  She is overall much happier.

Only there is no belly time on CPAP.

So, there's that.  And there are other worries.

The doctor explained that she probably won't be at any greater risk for cerebral palsy than she was before due to the use of Decadron.  And she is stronger, hopefully strong enough.  We shall see.

There is no other option.  We have to move forward and she needs help.  The Decadron will do that.

I made one condition of sorts.  I explained that there had been talk of raising her to the 30 calorie feeds.  And I wanted them to do that so she could gain some more weight before we did this.  The doctors agreed.  There were even smiles.  I guess they like that I'm on top of things.

I read to Kenna yesterday...Guess How Much I Love You?  With all my heart.

So, we're moving forward and taking a risk.  It's time.  She's tough.  And she has so many people thinking of her that I know she'll be just fine.

So, the bright side...

I find myself once again discussing something I truly hate discussing, but that is clearly somewhat troubling.  And this is as close as I'm going to get to discussing it.  Trust me.  So, if you want to hear more about my boobs and milk, keep reading.  If you are more like Sam and are sick to death of hearing about it, come back tomorrow when I'll have something new to discuss.

Remember from here on, you  are reading at your own peril.

So...I'm now taking fenugreek...on account of the fact that I already took two rounds of Reglan and aside from the fact that the side effects were rough...especially the rash...a third round could results in permanent Parkinson-like tremors.  And no way do I need to risk that. 

Hence the fenugreek.

It's all natural.  It's an herb.  And I can pick it up at GNC.  Cool.

Only I wasn't taking enough.  I have been increasing the dosage.  I am now up to 16 pills a day.  I don't do pills.  I suck at pills.  And now I'm choking down 16 a day.  And there are side effects.  Despite the fact that I've always considered myself pretty hale and hardy, I now seem to be getting every side effect from everything I take.

Now there could be a really bright side to this.  If this works, I'll gladly continue to subject myself to them.  I won't mind that I reek of maple syrup or that I'm constantly nauseous.  And shoot, between feeling nauseous and having sixteen pills floating around my stomach, I might not have much room for food.  And then I could lose some more weight.

That would be the best side effect ever.

I'm a little disappointed though.  I really wanted to be able to nurse Kenna for the first year.  It matters to me that she have the best start.  That's why I'm trying so hard.

And Sam's reaction?

Sam: You're doing the best you can.  If you dry up we cry for thirty minutes and move on.  We stock up on formula.  No big deal.

That's just the love and support I needed.  Nothing to feed my emotions too much.  Something to keep me headed in the right direction.  This is why we work...even when my boobs don't.

Somehow, Kenna will be fed.  That's already very important to her.  She begins to freak out when she doesn't get fed regularly.  I think we know which parent she gets that from.  Guilty.  And with this eating will come growth.

Grow, baby girl.  We're ready.