Dreamers help others achieve their dreams

I'm just as relaxed as Kenna.

We have been truly busy lately.  There is a lot involved with having a baby in the hospital and trying to get the house ready for the baby's arrival.  And there aren't many ways that people can help.

I have had offers to cook meals, but Sam is a picky eater and we usually decide what to eat last minute.  And that is good enough for us.  And other than a maid, I don't want anyone else but us cleaning our house.  It doesn't matter if I'm a bit slack at the moment.  It doesn't matter if people disapprove.  It will be clean when Kenna gets home.  I've got it covered.

And really, all we want is to have as normal a life as possible interspersed with daily hospital visits.  That's what works for us.  We don't dwell on her being in the hospital.  We had our routine down and we like it.  That's it.

So, while we're waiting, we're building our business and we're trying to help others with theirs.  We haven't spoken to Spring and Jay in a while, but they have been back in our lives recently.  And I'd like to do what I can to help them with their business.  We spoke just the other day about the importance of using Angie's List.  And they are eager to give it a shot.

Angie's list has been very good to us.  We have had three jobs from that one single source so far this year.  And we're hoping this means that our year is going to be looking up.  That's what we need.

And I truly believe that the good we do comes back to us.  Jay and Spring could use the help, so we're trying to help them.  And with good reason.  They deserve it, too.  Spring and I have known each other since we were struggling through our divorces.  And we were just starting to date Sam and Jay.  They were roommates back then.  It was a golden time in my life.  As bad as it was, we had our built in family.  Our two families, kids included, living together and hanging out together on weekends.  I loved it.

Is it any wonder that I want them to achieve financial success in their yard business?  It shouldn't be.  I want good things for everyone.

So, I'll be working with Spring to get the Angie's List going.  And I'll be working with Jay to figure out some potential deals.  And I'll be encouraging them every way I know how.

I give Kenna plenty of encouragement, but I have more to offer.  Why I even tried to encourage Keenan last night.  He has a paper to work on.

Keenan: It's okay, mom.  They give us time to do it in class.

me: Wow.  They do everything to ensure your success, but write it for you, huh?

He just laughed.

So, I'll just stay on top of things.  I'll offer up all the love I have.  (It's a lot.)  And I'll keep doing what I've been doing.  It's working so far. 

Dreamers deal with immaturity

It takes a lot to ruffle me these days.  And even this isn't doing it.

This is a big week for Kenna. 

She is on higher calorie dosage.  She is taking even larger feedings.  And so far...she is tolerating everything.

Tomorrow she has her first eye exam.  I'm ready for it.  I am thrilled that one of her primaries will have her that day.  I needed that.  I know how traumatic the experience can be.  They told me that she would have Versed in advance to relax her.  I hope so.  And I may still camp out there.  That's what mommies do.

Ah, and then there's today.

Today is lab work day.  We need to see how her liver functions are doing.  We need to see how her CBC looks.  It could mean another transfusion. 

All I know is that we were there for her blood gas yesterday.  It was a little rough.  She's older and wiser than the last time I saw her get her blood gases drawn.  Kenna knew what was going to happen as soon as the warmer hit her heel.  She puckered.  Her brow furrowed.  And it was a bit unsettling to watch.

Somehow we ended up on the topic of babies and shots.  I looked at Sam as we crowded around the womb room.

me: I've been known to cry when they get their shots.

Sam: You cry?

me: Yup.  Just wait.  They look at you like you're some kind of traitor standing there while they are hurting...not stopping the pain.  So, yeah, I cry.  And then I take them home and snuggle them and drug them with ibuprofen to take all the hurt away.

Only I can't take away the immaturity.  I can't take away the hurt associated with being born too soon.  I can't do anything about Kenna's lungs.

And so we hope that the protein powder added to her milk will work a miracle and help them mature, something they didn't have a chance to do inside me.  And we hope that she gets to the place where she can breathe on her own, sooner, rather than later.  And we're as patient as can be while we wait.

It could be so much worse.  Really, we are blessed.

The first seven weeks flew by...

It's amazing to me that it has been so long already.  It really has passed so quickly.  Really.

It seems like just yesterday that I was at the doctor and then the hospital.  And I remember how frustrated I was that there wasn't more of a sense of urgency about getting me checked in and assessed.  I remember hearing those words in my head that the ultrasound tech had expressed.  My baby was in distress.

I remember how quickly the day passed as we prepared to bring Kenna into this world.  Time simply flew by.  And before long, she was born, and Sam was everywhere and I was being wheeled into the NICU.  Though I couldn't see all of her, those feet were moving.  It gave me hope and built confidence that she was going to make it.

And here we are, seven weeks later.  Kenna is doing well.  She isn't thriving yet, but she is better, improving some every day.

The doctors are enriching her milk even more.  It makes me giggle to think that three calories, the equivalent of two TicTacs, can make such a difference, but apparently it does.  Kenna has been gaining weight.  Finally.  She now weighs in at a hefty 1lb 10.8oz.  She's a chunkster.

The last few visits have been very exciting for me.  She hasn't looked as gangly because she is starting, ever so slightly, to fill out.  Lately, to me, she looks just like a miniature version of a real live baby.  It's really nice.

I worry less.  I grill the doctors less.  I bother the nurses less.  And yet I couldn't care more.  I'm so very happy.  Kenna is our little miracle.  We're so blessed to have her.  And these days, we're so encouraged by her progress that we are getting serious about her homecoming.  Not only do we have just about all the basics together, but we are finishing a few projects.  We need to make the home Kenna friendly.  We have a baby with lung disease to consider.  So, we're considering.

And most of all, I'm considering how blessed we are.  This could have gone horribly wrong.  We could have lost her.  Instead, seven weeks later, she's still kicking.  We still have our baby girl.  Grow, Kenna, grow!

Dreamers survive the side effects

I have often joked that when they have these commercials on television for prescription drugs that the cure is almost worse that the condition.  The side effects are usually really unpleasant.  And here I am, on my second dose of this milk medicine, suffering my own host of side effects.

Some of them are just irritating...like the nausea and the other bodily functions we don't speak about.  And I can deal with that.  Only in the last few days, I have developed a rash.  It started on my chest.  If ever I am going to get a rash, that's where it starts.  And since then, it has spread.  I'm beginning to completely understand that wildfire analogy.

The rash has turned burny and itchy.  Seriously.  And when I looked up the potential side effects that I needed to be watching for, I discovered that the rash alone is considered severe and I should seek medical attention.

Well, I was at the doctor on Wednesday and I told my doctor.  She didn't seem overly concerned.

doctor: This is the last course we can give you of this.  Long term use can lead to Parkinson-like tremors that never go away.

me: Oh good, something to look forward to.

So, I went home.  And the rash has since grown worse.  On the bright side, it's not on my face.  And it will go away.  I hope.

Two more days.

The milk supply is super duper good.  And I am stock piling like a fiend.  Every drop is sacred.  Kenna should be able to nurse in a few weeks.

I'm thinking as long as I don't get the worse worse side effects...difficulty breathing and tightening of the chest, I'll be just fine.  As long as Kenna gets her nutrition, she'll be fine.

We're survivors.

Kenna, she's feisty.  Why, just overnight she decided to extubate herself.  Her nurse explained that she rolled over and the tub didn't make it the journey.  I love these stories.  And we have some lovely pictures of Kangaroo Care to share taken just last night, before the tube incident.  You can find them here.

Dreamers reconnect

A Nicki and Pippi pedicure...

Not me and Sam.  We're good.  We stay connected.

Instead, this is about friends.

See, when I was working, I had a lot more in real life friends.  They were all around.  We ate lunch together.  We traveled some.  We had pedicures.  It was good.  Really.

And then I started working from home.

When you change jobs or move, you suddenly realize whether friends were actual friends or simply work friends or neighbors.  The difference, all boiled down to simplicity, is whether or not you see each other outside of work or outside of the neighborhood...whether you ever see each other again.

I've had to really work at staying close to those I care about.  Like Pippi.

Some of you may recall that clever blogger.  We discovered that she lived in Charlotte, like me.  In fact, she even lived in South Charlotte, like me.  And she loved Starbucks...like me AGAIN.  So we met there one day.  And we became friends in real life.

We would get together for the pedicures.  We talked and texted and emailed.  We really connected.  She applauded my desire to leave my job, buy a boat, and build my dream future.  We did a great job of staying in touch until...sometime after the wedding.

Both of us became busy.  And it's easy to get wrapped up in our own lives, to forget to reach out to others.  It's important to not get so busy that friendship is a casualty of life.  Because there is nothing that keeps me happier or stronger than those I surround myself with.  So, I did it. 

A week or so ago, I contacted her by text.  I thought I'd feel her out, see if she was still interested in being my friend...in real life or online.  And we finally talked.  We finally connected...or in our case...reconnected.

We had much to talk about.  Let's face it, life can change a lot in a short period of time.  Or maybe that's just how my life goes.

Then Pippi did what she always does.  She challenged me.  She encouraged me.  She thinks I should write a book about this experience...of having Kenna, of raising a preemie, of life in the NICU, of how to survive.

It made me think about it, too.  Really think.  Really consider.

Now you know me.  Do I seem like the kind of person who would just go along writing books about her life experiences?  Yeah.  I sure would.  So, I'm mulling it over.  And if I think that I have enough to say, anything interesting to say, and can help others, I'll get right on it.

Thank you, Pippi.  Thank you for always being my friend.  Thank you for being you.

The lesson here isn't about the new project.  The lesson here is how important it is to keep friends in our life, to keep working on relationships, to remember what really matters.  Without my friends and family, I never would have made it through this challenging time with Kenna.  We are taught that there is safety in numbers growing up, but we forget that lesson.  One is the loneliest number, but we often lose touch with what matters.

Who have you let go?  Who has drifted away?  Don't be afraid to reach out.  It can make huge difference in your life.

Dreamers don't dwell...

I know there are people that imagine I must.  They see when I vent for a moment or when I share a not so secret fear.  I suppose they think that because I wrote it down, I focus on it non-stop.

Nope.

The magic of writing is that once I write it, I'm over it.  Seriously.  I write it down, I get it all out, and then I don't have to worry about it any more.

That's how I get through life.  I like it that way.  Really.  I like not focusing on the negative.  And that may be why I am surviving Kenna's time in the NICU.

When I get worried, I write it down.  I share it on Facebook.  And then it is over for me.

I can't sit around and worry.  That is negative and counterproductive.  I can't dwell on any of that.

So, if we talk in real life, and you assume that I'm in a bad place because I wrote something sad...I'm probably not.  Whatever was going on in that moment, stays in that moment.  It's like a Vegas state of mind.  Really.  And it works.

At the moment...see...moment...Kenna is doing okay.  She has an IV in her head that would bother most parents, but since I've seen them before and hers has a bow on it...no worries.  She may not even have it next time I visit.  She only needed it for the antibiotics.  Or maybe they will have taken the one out of her arm that was hooked around her hand and she'll just have the head one, since it's newer.  That's the route I'd take, if the nurses asked.  She did a fine job of trying to remove the arm IV on her own.

And Kenna doesn't have an infection, but her chronic lung disease is playing a part in her breathing difficulties, that and the PDA.  Oh, and they won't try to do anything about the PDA until she shows signs of heart problems...like congestive heart failure.  That's what they tell me.  And I'm really looking forward to that.

See, I could go and get really negative, focus on all the many things that are wrong, ways that Kenna isn't like the regular newborn babies.  What good would that do?  For one thing, I don't have it in me.  I don't care that she's not like everyone else.  Instead, I rejoice that she's here, our little miracle.  And I don't care that every day is a new high or new low.  I'm used to living that way.  And we've had so many more highs than lows.

The bulk of what's going on with Kenna is out of our control.  So, I focus on what I can control...supplying her with milk, visiting her daily, and keeping up with what's happening.  The rest, I let go.  That's it.  I let it go.  And that's why I can be happy every day.  That's what Kenna needs.  She doesn't need a mother coming in all tense and scared and worrying over her.  She needs my visits to be like a party, something to look forward to.  She needs to hear my voice and be excited, knowing that I'm excited to see her.  She doesn't need to dread my visits because I could be crying or sad or unhappy.

There is a method to my life.  And it's one that I'm both comfortable with and good at maintaining.  This is why she has a strong spirit and the best cheering section and is wrapped daily in love.  I love her with abandon.  I don't hold back.  I find plenty to be happy about.  And I don't dwell.

Dreamers don't mean to disappoint...

Really I don't.

Ah, but lately, I feel like it's all I do.  I'm being stretched so many different directions.  And I'm frustrated because I don't feel like I'm accomplishing much of anything these days.  I really don't.

I've spent the last few days working with Sam on finishing his window job.  The family is lovely, but the woman wanted to talk to Sam the entire time, which meant that he couldn't get any work done.  So, I went and talked with her.  And that meant that I didn't get any work done.

I need to get work done.

I literally worked out of the car for part of the day on Saturday.  I had the laptop on the seat, while I stood outside the vehicle and typed.  It wasn't fun.  It wasn't comfortable.  Ah, but it was necessary.  And it may be the only way I managed to accomplish the SEO articles.

Lately, I have been missing deadlines left and right.  I have a deadline for two Fiverr tasks.  And my heart isn't in it...because my heart is mostly at the hospital.  I would camp out there if I could.  There should be no reason to question my dedication to my child.  I am, after all, currently covered in a rash from the milk meds.  Yup.  It was one of the warnings.  And considering the many things that can go horribly wrong from the meds, and if I had to have one...I'm rather glad this is it.

The house needs attention.  It is never entirely clean at once any more.  I cleaned Keenan's bathroom on Friday.  The house was vacuumed on Thursday.  Saturday I was on the job site.  And I grocery shopped Sunday.  There is still plenty to do, but who knows when I will actually get it done.  I figure a task a day will keep the dust bunnies away.  So...I guess I should dust today?

Really, I should probably stop being so hard on myself and just give it a chance to come together.  Because I know it will in time.  And in the scheme of things, being there for Kenna counts so much more than all of this.

She's better today than she was yesterday.  And we'll see what tomorrow brings.  For now, I'll take life one day at a time and stop being so hard on myself.  This, too, shall pass.  And those who love me understand.

Dreamers deal with infection...

Kenna's first head IV.

At least...we think it's an infection.

That's what it's looking like.  And I know we've had the our fair share of infection scares, but this time, it would explain a lot.

Kenna has been having a lot of desats.  This is where the oxygen levels in her blood drop.  And there are alarms for that.  They have been going off a lot.  And so they decided to run a CBC...and test the asperits from her ventilator...the mucous they suction out.  (Hey, medicine isn't pretty.) 

The result is that the blood showed elevated white blood cells and the mucous did, too.  So, they are thinking...pneumonia.  And I was a bit concerned.

Kenna has chronic lung disease.  What happens now?  Will this do irreparable damage?  Could it be fatal?

The doctor tells me she'll recover.  So, I'll believe him. 

Kenna is getting a lovely antibiotic cocktail.  It seems to already be taking effect.  She is perkier than she has been.  She was awake, alert, and checking us out.  She was responding to our voices.  And she was having constant happy sats.  That's what I call the alarms for elevated O2.  We don't worry about that.  That is good.

And we are coping with her first head IV.  I knew it was coming.  I predicted it a few days ago.  Sam saw her first because I was talking to the respiratory therapist.  He warned me.  And it wasn't bad.  I didn't even cry like I did with Keenan.  Of course, when I had Keenan in the NICU, I was alone 95% of the time.  Now, I have Sam with me 95% of the time.  Big difference.

It makes all these scary moments more manageable. 

So there is a plan.  And it seems to be working.  And I'm not going to worry until I have to.

But if you want to worry along with me, join me on Kenna's page.  My sister told me that there are plenty of people  who want updates on Kenna, but don't know where to get them from.  And I love the support that comes from having so many people thinking of her.  Facebook is ideal because I can post tiny little updates and people can interact.  It's warmer and fuzzier than a blog.  So, there we are.  See you there.  I'll be the happy optimistic one bragging about her baby girl.  Looking forward to meeting you.

Our little dreamer is all worn out

Sleep heals.

I know this because when Sam is worn out, or stressed, or just had a really good meals, he sleeps.  And when he wakes, all is well...or better.  He is relaxed.  He is happy.  He is refreshed.

And I think that's what's going on with Kenna right now.

She couldn't even muster the energy to look at us when we visited yesterday.  Don't get me wrong...she knew we were there.  She had such happy sats while we were there.  It was nice.  At the same time, I've grown used to seeing her look at us when we arrive.

I'm thinking it was all because it was a rainy day.

If we had been home, Sam would have been passed out on the couch.  And if I hadn't had so much to do, I would've taken a nap with him.  We snuggle together and offer each other such comfort that we relax and sleep practically immediately.

We should have news about a new weight when next I speak to her nurse.  And we should have more news about her blood gases when next I speak to her nurse.  And I hope that next time I see her, later today, that she can muster the energy to look at me.  I love those moments.  Maybe, if I'm really lucky, we can start kangaroo care again.

I love snuggling her, but I have to make sure she's stable before we do that.  Otherwise, instead of being beneficial, the kangaroo care will only further exhaust and upset her.

Soon, little bit.  Soon.

So, we're still praying for lungs.  Our baby needs to breathe.  Breathe, Kenna, breathe.

She's a growing girl...

Don't believe me?  Just look.  That's what I do when I forget how far she's come.

Kenna in her blue phase.  You would be, too, if you lived under plastic and bili lights.

At twelve days, no lights, my camera, and plenty of action.

We finally held her little one pound self when she was just shy of one month old.

On her one month birthday, I held her in the palms of my hands while they changed her bedding.

Now, she's starting to fill out some...weighing a whopping 1lb 5.87 oz.

She has a head full of strawberry blonde hair.  

She's come a long way.  And yet Kenna still has so far to go. 

Love you, little bit. 

We're all rooting for you.

Breathe, baby, breathe!

Kenna had a rough day.  She has been struggling ever since she was on the CPAP.  And I spoke to her doctor about it yesterday.  I need answers.  I need to know that she's going to perk up and ultimately be fine.

Admittedly, they don't seem as worried as I am.  At the same time, she's my daughter, not theirs.  Still, they have  much invested in her, too.  She's their little miracle baby.  And while she still holds the record for smallest born there, after this weight gain, she's no longer the smallest baby in the NICU.

We're going after a new record now.  We want her to get out in record time.  And in some ways, it seems totally plausible.  All she has to do...is breathe.  

How many of us take that for granted?  I know that I do...until I'm battling a cold.  Then I get it.  Breathing is not easy.  And that is the one big area Kenna has to work on.

She has a lung disease of prematurity that is making something that seems so simple...really a huge struggle.  She isn't maturing in that department as quickly as I would like, or the doctors, for that matter.  Kenna will probably need the steroids again when it is time to take her off the ventilator in a few weeks.  And she needs that PDA to close.  And she needs to be able to gain weight.

She's gaining...slowly.  She's feeding well.  She has pooping mastered.  So now we focus on her lungs.  We pray for healthy flexible lungs.

Every night when we leave, Sam leans close to the isolette.

Sam: Grow, my pretty.  Grow.

And I tell her what I thought so hard the last few weeks she was struggling inside me.

me: Come on, Kenna, grow healthy, and happy, and strong.

That goes for the lungs now most of all.

Dreamers prepare for the future

I have to tell you.  I was mostly afraid most of the pregnancy to prepare for the impending arrival of my baby girl, Kenna.  And I have to think it was for good reason.

I have lost babies.  Too many babies.  I lost a daughter from my first marriage at 27 weeks, stillborn.  I was physically and emotionally devastated.  Then Sam and I lost our son at 12 weeks the day before Thanksgiving.  Too much loss.

And the only thing that made those losses even slightly bearable was that I didn't have to come home to any baby preparations.  I simply had to mourn and carry on with my life.  So, you can imagine that I wasn't quick to gather baby gear this time either.

Instead, I had a few items thrust on me...a Snugglie, some feeding bowls and spoons, a personalized blanket.  And then I was on bed rest and it didn't look good for Kenna.  Only...things are constantly looking up.  It seems.  And we're more optimistic.  And we're even beginning to prepare.

My computer guru and his wife have given us a crib...a beautiful crib.  And we're looking forward to using that.  We have a porta crib that Sam's sister, Christie, and her husband have given us from their kids.  We have a changing table that Sam's dad found for us and amazingly enough...matches the crib.  My sister contacted me and told me that she and her husband are planning on sending us the car seat and stroller that I had on my baby registry.  One of my blog buddies and neighbors, Dana, gave me a selection of leftover baby items...diaper cream, baby bath, and the like.  We're getting there.

And this afternoon, I'll be looking at a bassinet.  Yeah...I found it on Craigslist.  The price was perfect.  And that and the bouncer are really the only big items I still need for her.  I figure it will be months before I can use the crib.  Kenna is too tiny.  So having the bassinet in our room will be ideal.

I guess I'm confident...finally.  I guess I truly believe.  I hoped.  Don't get me wrong.  Oh, but I was afraid.  Can you imagine what it would be like to have to face a bunch of baby items with no baby to ever use them?  I would be devastated.  Now, I don't believe I'll be devastated.  I believe that Kenna will come home in a matter of months.  And we'll be ready for her.

Dreamers double their weight!

It wasn't as exciting when I did it.  Oh, but for Kenna, weight gain is the best news ever.

We waited five weeks for it to happen.  And you wouldn't think it would take that long to gain 9 ounces.  Apparently, for Kenna, it's a lot of work.

And I stared at her last night, trying to decide if she looked twice her weight.  She wasn't twice her size, since she was only an inch longer than she had been at birth.  Still, double the weight...wow!

I have to tell you, things have grown very interesting with Kenna.  There is some definite progress, even though she is still on the ventilator.  And this is what has been decided. 

• She is going to get about two weeks to work on gaining weight and muscles.  These muscles are incredibly important so that she can have what she needs to breathe on the CPAP, which is just about the same as saying that she is going to be breathing on her own.  Wow.
• Over the next few days, she is going to be working on getting up to full feedings...which is 10ml per feeding for her.  Right now, she is at 6.3ml.  Every 12 hours, she gets another .6ml added to the feeding.  So, she'll be on full feedings by Thursday.  And these feedings will be enhanced with the infant version of protein powder.  So that each feeding is an extra six calories.  It may not seem like much, but that's a lot.  
• Once she is on full feedings for a week, she can have her central line removed...by the professionals.  Kenna took one out of her arm weeks ago.  And they showed her by placing the new one in her leg where it was safe from her grabby hands.

At the rate she's going, she could be in the elusive Special Care Nursery in a matter of a month or so.  Then she'll just need to work on gaining weight.  That would be nice.  We could touch her more and hold her more and spend more time with her.

Big changes as afoot.  We're so very excited.

Dreamers are believers

And they help others believe, too.

Kenna just celebrated her first month of life yesterday.  And of all the special things that happened that day, getting the call from one of her doctors was the best.  This was the doctor who I had to set straight not so long ago.  I had to remind him that Kenna was here to stay.

And we haven't really spoken since.

Until yesterday.

He called.  And I was a little bothered to hear his voice.  He tends to err on the side of caution and come off as being more than a little negative.  So, I braced myself when I heard his voice.  And I prepared for whatever he was going to say.

Luckily, he made sure to let me know that Kenna was okay from the start.  And the rest of the conversation was all good news.  He told me more than once the ways that she was amazing him.  Her bad bilirubin has decreased significantly since she's started pooping.  And she is taking really good sized feedings considering her size.  He went on to explain what a large percent of her daily liquid intake came from her feedings.  The conversation was all good stuff.

And it occurred to me that Kenna was working her magic on this doctor, too.

They had all doubted her.  And why wouldn't they?  Doctors deal in reality.  They deal with numbers and statistics.  They know what they know, what they have seen.  And babies this small don't do well.

Kenna had a 10 percent chance.  10 percent.  That's all.  In fact, if we were to factor in the inter uterine growth retardation and the lack of amniotic fluid, I'd dare say her chances were even less.  Maybe much less.

Only my baby girl is determined.  She wants to be here.  She plans to see this thing through.  And I'm pretty sure that she's beginning to convince everyone else.

Dreamers are believers and they make others believe the impossible is possible, too.

Dreamers celebrate Kenna's big day...

Kenna sleeping and behaving...for a change. 

Today, Kenna is one month old.  One month...already.  And I can't help but wonder how many more of these milestones she'll celebrate in the hospital.  I want her to be there for as long as she needs to be.  The last thing I want is to take her home and have to send her back to get re-admitted.  We'll give her all the time she needs to finish cooking.

This week has been another roller coaster.

And yet, I can't complain.  I can't.  Just like all the other weeks, we have had more ups than downs.  That is something special.

This week, she was moved to the CPAP machine for 24 hours.  After that, her poor little body just wore out.  She started to have bouts of apnea and increased bradys.  The doctor sounded worried when he called me.  And I ended up having to make an emergency run to the hospital.

doctor: How are you today?

me: That depends on what you are about to tell me.

And then he went on about how Kenna had stopped breathing and her heart rate had dropped and I was just waiting for him to get to the part where she was okay.  It took him long enough.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I interrupted him to get to that part.

me: But she's okay, right?  She's still kicking?

doctor: Oh, yes.  We had to move her back to the ventilator.

me: I don't care.  As long as she's good.  Everything else will come in time.

Moving her to the vent, not the emergency.  The emergency was what came next.

doctor: So the nurses wanted me to tell you that Kenna is out of milk.

me: How out?  When does she need some?

doctor: Well, her next feeding is...now.

me: I'll be right there.

They could use donor milk, but I didn't want that and I knew Sam wouldn't want that.  And I'm not pumping for nothing.  Dagnabit.

I talked with one of our favorite nurses while I was there.  We had discussed how she was so strong, in that she had been able to last on the CPAP for so much longer than we expected, but at the same time...she couldn't sustain it forever.

nurse: She just needs to gain a little weight, get a little stronger.

me: And I wouldn't think that would be so difficult.  I gain weight very easily.

Ah, but Kenna is so feisty.  She's wild.  Every time I walk into the NICU, I find that the staff all seems to be keeping up on her.  They all talk to me.  It's nice.  It's like home...if home were a dark sterile environment with tons of high tech machinery that reeked of latex and sanitizer.

Kenna has made it through her first month.  She's thriving in so many ways.  And I know we owe that to all the words of encouragement, the prayers, and all the healing thoughts people send our way.  For that, I can never thank you enough.  Just know you are in our hearts, too.

Dreamers live with a healthy bit of denial

Kenna's has a strap under the chin, too.

The other day we went to visit Kenna, part of our daily routine.  And as we arrived in the NICU, one of her doctors came to talk to us.  We had already been warned by one of the nurses that he was probably going to come over and speak to us, so it wasn't a shot when he did.

We braced ourselves.

Yes, Sam and I have grown accustomed to the negativity that the doctors often wear just as surely as they wear their scrubs and their lab jackets.  We know that they don't mean anything by it, but they dress up their discussions as reality...a reality that I would like tempered with optimism.  And thus started the discussion.

doctor: We're going to try Kenna on CPAP.

I was nervous.  Sure, it's the natural progression of things, but I worry that at some point she's simply going to give out.  Sam had held her the day before and that was the first time I realized just how teeny tiny she is.  And the thought of Kenna, that small, breathing all but on her own...was a bit daunting.

She isn't supposed to be here yet.  She's only supposed to be 28 weeks in utero.  She's supposed to be so much bigger than she is, but that bad placenta messed everything up.  She isn't supposed to be doing this well, either.  And that's what worries me most.

We haven't had infections or bleeds on the brain.  She hasn't suffered any of the ill effects of the medications.  Her PDA didn't close, but it isn't really holding her back any either.  And I suppose part of me is simply waiting for it all to come crashing down.  That, by the way, is a horrible way to live.

 That's why I don't dwell on it.  I think of it only in passing, when I am forced to...like when some doctor wants to talk to me.  And I have to tell you, I had my suspicion that the talk was going to be a good one.  He hugged me.  He's never done that before.  He hugged me even after Sam called him Dr. Sunshine.  (He thought it was nicer than Dr. Dark Cloud.  I say it's the same thing.)

All I know is that Kenna defies the doctors and nurses every chance she gets.  She fights them when they even touch her to check her temperature...batting at their hands and pushing them away.  She's quite effective, too.  They didn't expect her to do so well, but here she is...sticking it out...making progress...coming along.

We're going to keep on fighting with her.  We are going to make sure that she has all the love and support that she needs.  We joke with her nurses.

There is one in particular who tells us all we really need to know about Kenna.

nurse: She doesn't know that she's fragile.

me: Well, I'm not going to be the one to tell her.

And it's true.  Kenna carries on with the attitude of a defiant child much larger than her one pound stature.  I love her for it.  I love her for that and so much more.  She brings us such joy.  She offers so many hope.  Every day is one day closer to coming home.  We're months from that.

For now...we'll concentrate on breathing and holding her body temp.

Dreamers deal with distractions

Wow.  It's late.

I'm normally posting much earlier than this, but we've had a few distractions.  Sam is leaving in a bit to sign a contract.  We are really looking forward to working on this house.  It is a Hardie siding project and the house is going to look AMAZING when it is done.  The family wanted to keep the house natural looking in its woodsy setting and opted to cover the entire home in cedar shake impressions that really speak to this Adirondack girl.

So, we had a lot of work to accomplish in that department lately.  There was much research and many meetings.  It's a big job that requires much attention to detail.  And, thereby, much of my attention and Sam's.

I have tried to drink the special tea that Earth Mama Angel Baby sent me no fewer than three times.  Yes, that is how many times I have reheated it this morning.  And that is no reflection on the tea, but on the kind of morning I'm having.  I keep prioritizing and losing.  Moms are never the priority.

I had to call this morning to find out how Kenna was doing.  I held her last night, which was a surprise.  And I cherished every moment of it.  She was all squirmy and cooing.  I loved it.  I could have held her all night.  And once she comes home, I will.  We don't currently have a mattress for the crib, which I have assured Sam will be a non-issue.  This baby is going to live in my arms for a while since I have so much lost time to make up for.

So, when I discovered that she is moving to CPAP today...I was pleased and scared.  I know it's the logical next step.  I know she has been making huge strides.  I'm just...a nervous mother who wants her baby to be okay.  And so I posted the status on Facebook.

And now I'm trying to make a little time for me.  I thought I'd drink my tea...have a shower...fold some laundry...pump.  I have a book review to write and a bunch of SEO articles that still beg completion.  We've been a little busy.

Then I was sucked into a Brazilian Butt Lift workout infomercial.  I used to have a nice body...before kids.  And luckily Sam loved me even with my post kid body.  Oh, but since I'm not having any more children...it's time to get my body back.  So, I watched that infomercial and toyed with the idea of investing in me.

And that's when I remembered that I hadn't even had the tea...which I actually enjoy drinking.  It is an interesting blend of herbs that are supposed to help me with my milk issue.  Apparently some of my friends at Earth Mama Angel Baby knew I was having issues and sent me a couple of boxes of the Organic Milkmaid Tea...and some Nipple Butter, which makes Sam giggle when he says it or even looks at the box.  I love that man.

We have another big busy day ahead of us.  And I can't wait to see what happens next.  Will she or won't she get a new exercise video series to replace the one Bishop ate?  Will she or won't she remember to drink her tea so that Kenna gets the best food for her growing body?  Will she or won't she get all her writing done? 

Stay tuned.  And I'll try to stay focused.

Kangaroo care! A post in pictures.

Getting ready for kangaroo care!

Sam was excited and nervous.

And then Kenna was placed on his chest...

and there was that moment...

when Kenna realized that snuggles were good...

and they both relaxed into the experience.

This will be the first of many Daddy and Kenna naps.

Dreamers deal with pumping problems

I know this sounds ridiculous.  For some reason, I have discovered that I don't have a pumping lifestyle.  I really don't.

I, supposedly, work from home.  And yet...I can't get on a schedule.

Take Wednesday, for example.

I woke up and pumped as soon as Keenan left for school.  Then we had a meeting an hour later in the garage.  So, I should have been able to pump every three hours.  Only, the meeting went long.  And so I went over the three hour plan.  I pumped as soon as I could.  Then I was trying to get the next pump in before the next meeting in the afternoon...which was unplanned.  And it didn't happen.  I had to wait until that meeting was done.  So, I went HOURS before I was able to pump.  Then we made a trip to the hospital.  It was great seeing Kenna.  It was once again a pumping delay.  Yes, there are pump rooms at the hospital.  And no, I don't like using them.  They are like stepping into the arctic.

I tried to be philosophical.  I convinced myself that there was always tomorrow.  Only tomorrow didn't turn out much better.

There was an estimate that I had to go on.  Oh, and the estimate was near a repair that Sam had to go on so...we both went.  And my only option was to pump in the truck.  It's a lousy option, but it was warmer than the pumping rooms.

We stopped to grab a bite to eat before the estimate.  And when I came out of the Taco Bell, Sam and the truck were gone.  Yup, right next door was a Valvoline.  And the truck needed an oil change.  And there went my pump spot.  I had to use the bathroom at the place.  As soon as I walked in I was assaulted by fumes.  It was not my best pump...to say the least.

Kenna is 28 weeks gestational age today.  They told me she won't start nursing until 32 weeks...and then only if her respiratory issues are resolved.  Otherwise...later.

I'm trying here.  I'm really trying.  I know how important it is.  There's a distinct possibility that I'm going to need more medication to get my supply back where it should be.  And I'm trying not to get stressed or upset.  I'm trying to eat enough.  I'm trying.  I'm really trying.

Somehow this will work out.  Everything does.

Faith.  Hope.  Love.

That's what gets us through.

Dreamers dress up

My cousin bought Kenna some really cute preemie clothes.  I discovered that while she wasn't able to wear them before, since she was on the oscillator, life on the ventilator is different.  So, I did the laundry.  And wrote her name inside them.  And I brought them to the hospital.  I can't wait to see her all dressed.  Or...half dressed.  She'll look like a whole new baby.

There will be loads of pictures because...clearly, I'm that kind of mom.

Sam: Are you loading more pictures on Facebook?

me: Ummmm...yes?

Sam: Do you do this every day?

me: No.  Not every day. Just days I get a decent picture of Kenna.

And he was looking at me with something akin to credulity and disgust.  He still hates that I put our lives out there.  He still struggles with the public eye between the blogs and Facebook.  My so very private man is getting used to our somewhat public lives.  And with Kenna, it has only gotten worse.

So, just like I plan to dress Kenna in her new clothes, I dress up our life.  I keep it interesting, which he likes, and exciting, which he could often do without.  Oh, but I like things pretty and interesting.  And these days we have no choice.

Life with a micro-preemie is never dull.  One minute Kenna is stable.  The next minute there are concerns about her liver functions, her lungs, her heart.  We know that there will be surgeries.  We just aren't sure when...or which ones.  And so we hang on as best we can. 

Kenna is tough.  She has defied so many odds already.  And all we can do is love her through this, keep her as comfortable as possible, and hope that is enough.

Dreamers do interviews

And I have to tell you, I have mixed feelings about it.

In the end, there is one reason and only one reason that I am doing them.  Ready?

Hope.

When I was still pregnant for Kenna and stuck on bed rest, I would lay there all day and research.  For me, knowledge is power and hope.  I needed to see that there was someone who had gone through what I had and in the end was able to share a story of hope.

There aren't a lot of happy endings for parents of 24 week preemies.  And our story is far from over.  Kenna is still in the hospital.  At the same time, she has come a long way, and defied so many odds that she already brings hope to expectant mothers.

That's my reason.

Other women, other families need to know that with some really great medical care, a lot of effort, and an incredibly optimistic attitude, it is possible to have a teeny tiny baby survive.  Doctors remind us that we still don't know what kind of quality of life Kenna will have.  Of course, I'm thinking that a baby that should still be in utero, but is instead coordinated enough to remove her gavage tube is going to turn out just fine.  We'll see.

Either way, we are as prepared for that as we are for years of therapists in the house helping Kenna catch up.  We are as prepared for that as we were for the early birth, the bad pregnancy, and the inevitability that this was going to be life or death for both of us.

I don't want this kind of fame.  I had really thought it would be for my writing.  And I didn't want to raise some medical miracle.  We just wanted Kenna to live so badly.  All I want is for her story to give hope to others.

I know that Kenna is the exception and not the rule.  I know the numbers have never been in her favor...the interuterine growth retardation, the lack of amniotic fluid for weeks in addition to the early delivery were not ideal.  All I know is that she's tough.  She's feisty.  And there are some numbers she has always had in her favor...the number of people thinking about her, praying for her, wishing her well.  Those numbers are staggering.  And good will always outweigh the bad.