Things I forgot to mention. First, her voice changed post surgery. She sounded extremely congested. We didn't know it at the time but it was due to the packing in her mouth. Once one half of it fell out her voice went back to normal. I didn't pack slippers or anything and forgot how hard hospital floors are. There is a good reason nurses wear orthopedic shoes. For the love of God pack comfortable shoes! Bring your own pillow b/c if you don't know yet, hospital pillows are a joke. I brought my own formula, which went bad b/c there was no fridge. They brought us formula, diapers, and wipes. I didn't pack nearly enough snacks and food, I had to go to the cafeteria when my husband was around, or order room service. I may have packed my moby wrap because Ellie was very very clingy and that may have helped my poor aching back. I didnt pack my DS or my laptop but instead brought my tablet. In retrospect I would have packed both because I never got to use the tablet, and for the most part I sat in a chair with one hand holding the baby and one hand on the remote. By the way, the cable was being "upgraded" so the TV was out. I really should have brought more entertainment that I could do one-handed. I didn't need her nightlight or noise machine, but the noise machine may have helped a little. Hard to tell for certain.
We had heard the kids bounce back in 48 hours. We have found this to be untrue. The first 24 hours were easy, she was on morphine and asleep. The second 24 hours were less enjoyable. To be perfectly honest, I miss my happy baby. She's not her old self and I'm worried she'll never be the same. Probably irrational. She's giggled a few times but for the most part the spark in her eyes is gone. That, to me, has been the worst part of this entire ordeal.
Ellie
Friday, February 11, 2011
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Surgery
We arrived at CHOA-Scottish Rite at 6 am. We didn't have any paperwork to fill out so we just sat around for a bit. Not too long, though. We were called back into our pre-op room. They told us the ear tubes would go in first, then the palate surgery. They said she would be knocked out before she even got her IV put in. The nurses asked the usual questions about allergies and the last time she ate. The surgeons stopped by to answer our questions. The surgery wont effect her molars in any way. The surgeon said we could solid foods, as it may be easier for her but definitely continue haberman feeding on an "all liquid" diet. Contradictory, right? Anyway, since our formula is so thick we've been squirting regular AR into her mouth. She has taken the nipple in and sucked, so that's amazing. We also let her drink some pear juice to keep her hydrated. We're going to water down our fortified formula so she can drink it. She is actually doing really well with pain management. The first day she had 2 doses of morphine and mostly slept- while I held her. The second day she was able to have a few squirts of pedialyte so they gave her tylenol with codeine. She had that twice I believe. This morning part of her packing fell out so we gave her another dose, and I think we gave her another one this afternoon but after that she's gone about 8-9 hours without it. She's sleeping most of the time. Still prefers to be held but getting better. I'm still exhausted so I apologize if this gets out of order and weird.
When they brought her back to us they had dimmed the lights, she was wrapped up in a ton of blankets, and pretty delirious. There wasn't a lot of blood, thank goodness, and very little swelling. That made it much easier for me to deal with the situation. She did want mommy to hold her, and only mommy, and all the time. Price you pay for having a baby. She had her no-no arm restraints on, which they called "welcome bands"- hahahaha. We eventually got moved down on the first floor into our recovery room. It was actually quite nice, the fold out couch wasn't terribly uncomfortable. As I said before, we were able to squirt some pedialyte into her mouth and that allowed us to give her tylenol with codeine (there has to be food in the stomach for the tylenol). She was a little cranky, but mostly sleepy. She kept her hands out of her mouth for the most part when her no-nos were not on her. She did not like sleeping in the crib, it was very tricky to get her to sleep in there so for the most part she slept with me/on me on the fold out couch. We are so grateful for how things have turned out. She also didn't have any night terrors from the anesthesia. There wasn't a lot of screaming in pain and agony. We were able to actually get some sleep- even though it was often interrupted and non-consecutive. Everyone was impressed with her, from the nurses to the surgeon. He also said her palate was wider than most but that meant we had to keep a keener eye out for apnea- which she did not develop. The nose trumpet was a pain but she was doing so well they were able to remove it before she went to sleep that evening. The surgeries were very, very quick. After they took her to surgery we walked to the cafeteria to get breakfast and when we walked back into the room the phone rang. The ENT was calling to tell us everything went fine- she had more fluid in her right ear than left, and we need to follow up in 4-6 weeks. I dont like that I have to wait 4-6 weeks to see if her hearing is ok. Someone suggested 2 weeks and I like that better. 45 minutes later the surgeon walked in to tell us about her wide palate but the success of the surgery. Another 45 minutes later she was brought into us. So if you count the time as from 6 am when we checked in and 10 am when she got back in our room it was 4 hours. If you count surgery plus recovery it was 2 hours. If you count surgery alone, only an hour.
By the way, the metal crib looks more like a steel cage. It says less of "a baby sleeps here" and more of either "I can protect you from sharks while diving in the ocean" or "grudge match Saturday night on PPV!" Further, the sheets on the beds gave her a bad facial rash. It's a children's hospital- how do they not have dye-free/detergent free extra soft bedding?!?!
Anyway, she has to be on nasal spray for the next month (twice a day), she had ear drops twice a day for the first 3 days there. She has to be on nystatin for 3 days, three or four times a day. I hate nystatin. It gives her diarrhea and makes her face itchy. She only has to be on it for 3 days though so we'll be done by Monday.
Her feeding really picked up the evening of the second day, she ate a number of ounces so they felt ok to let us go home the next morning. The next morning part of her packing fell out and scared me to death. It was a giant red booger/slug looking thing. I was terrified her stitching or sutures had popped and part of her mouth had fallen out. It really upset her as well, and seemed to cause her pain. We knew the packing would fall out, we were told so by the physician's assistant. We just thought it would be later, and for some reason I had assumed not painful. Plus it looked like her palate had come back. The packing and stuff was so low in her mouth that I had thought that was the palate. Of course logically I know the roof of your mouth doesn't begin at your gum line; it's up much further. All the same I was scared. In either case the nurses looked her over, said it was fine and let her go.
So in summation while in my head I had pictured a screaming restless infant in huge amounts of pain, I got a sleepy infant with pain being managed who was even able to eat a bit. I hope this makes sense to someone who is about to go through the same thing.
When they brought her back to us they had dimmed the lights, she was wrapped up in a ton of blankets, and pretty delirious. There wasn't a lot of blood, thank goodness, and very little swelling. That made it much easier for me to deal with the situation. She did want mommy to hold her, and only mommy, and all the time. Price you pay for having a baby. She had her no-no arm restraints on, which they called "welcome bands"- hahahaha. We eventually got moved down on the first floor into our recovery room. It was actually quite nice, the fold out couch wasn't terribly uncomfortable. As I said before, we were able to squirt some pedialyte into her mouth and that allowed us to give her tylenol with codeine (there has to be food in the stomach for the tylenol). She was a little cranky, but mostly sleepy. She kept her hands out of her mouth for the most part when her no-nos were not on her. She did not like sleeping in the crib, it was very tricky to get her to sleep in there so for the most part she slept with me/on me on the fold out couch. We are so grateful for how things have turned out. She also didn't have any night terrors from the anesthesia. There wasn't a lot of screaming in pain and agony. We were able to actually get some sleep- even though it was often interrupted and non-consecutive. Everyone was impressed with her, from the nurses to the surgeon. He also said her palate was wider than most but that meant we had to keep a keener eye out for apnea- which she did not develop. The nose trumpet was a pain but she was doing so well they were able to remove it before she went to sleep that evening. The surgeries were very, very quick. After they took her to surgery we walked to the cafeteria to get breakfast and when we walked back into the room the phone rang. The ENT was calling to tell us everything went fine- she had more fluid in her right ear than left, and we need to follow up in 4-6 weeks. I dont like that I have to wait 4-6 weeks to see if her hearing is ok. Someone suggested 2 weeks and I like that better. 45 minutes later the surgeon walked in to tell us about her wide palate but the success of the surgery. Another 45 minutes later she was brought into us. So if you count the time as from 6 am when we checked in and 10 am when she got back in our room it was 4 hours. If you count surgery plus recovery it was 2 hours. If you count surgery alone, only an hour.
By the way, the metal crib looks more like a steel cage. It says less of "a baby sleeps here" and more of either "I can protect you from sharks while diving in the ocean" or "grudge match Saturday night on PPV!" Further, the sheets on the beds gave her a bad facial rash. It's a children's hospital- how do they not have dye-free/detergent free extra soft bedding?!?!
Anyway, she has to be on nasal spray for the next month (twice a day), she had ear drops twice a day for the first 3 days there. She has to be on nystatin for 3 days, three or four times a day. I hate nystatin. It gives her diarrhea and makes her face itchy. She only has to be on it for 3 days though so we'll be done by Monday.
Her feeding really picked up the evening of the second day, she ate a number of ounces so they felt ok to let us go home the next morning. The next morning part of her packing fell out and scared me to death. It was a giant red booger/slug looking thing. I was terrified her stitching or sutures had popped and part of her mouth had fallen out. It really upset her as well, and seemed to cause her pain. We knew the packing would fall out, we were told so by the physician's assistant. We just thought it would be later, and for some reason I had assumed not painful. Plus it looked like her palate had come back. The packing and stuff was so low in her mouth that I had thought that was the palate. Of course logically I know the roof of your mouth doesn't begin at your gum line; it's up much further. All the same I was scared. In either case the nurses looked her over, said it was fine and let her go.
So in summation while in my head I had pictured a screaming restless infant in huge amounts of pain, I got a sleepy infant with pain being managed who was even able to eat a bit. I hope this makes sense to someone who is about to go through the same thing.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Welcome to Holland
This often circles around the PRS Network group, so I thought Id post it here. Its pretty accurate.
Welcome To Holland
by
Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
Welcome To Holland
by
Emily Perl Kingsley
I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this......
When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.
After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland."
"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy."
But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.
The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.
So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.
It’s just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.
But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned."
And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.
But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.
Day Before Surgery
For the record, yes, I did have multiple anxiety and panic attacks last night. I thought I was going to vomit at one point. No one slept. Ellie woke up every 2 hours, I barely went to sleep in between her waking up and my being awake kept Bryan awake. With any luck that means we'll all sleep like logs tonight- hahaha.
The hospital called to confirm we are scheduled for 8 a.m. surgery, and we need to arrive at 6 a.m. which means waking up by 5 a.m. Lovely. Dr. Thomsen is doing the ear tubes. Dr. Williams will be doing the palate repair. Its gonna be such a long day.
The ENT is supposed to tell us about follow up and care. I hope they do. I'm also curious because they said some of the skin they'll be using for her palate repair will come from the area where her molars come in. So what happens when her molars come in? Is there still room? Is it going to be extra painful? I'm also really confused about post-op feeding. I know I am supposed to feed via syringe or Haberman. I emailed the feeding team and they said to continue using our fortified formula until she is meeting her proper hydration volume (and I am supposed to ask someone- don't know who- what that is). Then I talk with the pedi and the GI dr to determine where to go from there- do we not use fortification? Do we add back in solids? They did say it would take about 5-10 days to get back to normal feeding. Lovely. It was also "highly recommended" that we give her pain pills. This is gonna be so baaaaaaaaaaad. I know, think positive thoughts right? Well, in this instance I am working under the presumption that she'll be fine as far as surgery goes but the worse I make it in my head, one of two results will occur- I will be super prepared for the nastiness which ensues or it won't be as bad as I think.
The hospital called to confirm we are scheduled for 8 a.m. surgery, and we need to arrive at 6 a.m. which means waking up by 5 a.m. Lovely. Dr. Thomsen is doing the ear tubes. Dr. Williams will be doing the palate repair. Its gonna be such a long day.
The ENT is supposed to tell us about follow up and care. I hope they do. I'm also curious because they said some of the skin they'll be using for her palate repair will come from the area where her molars come in. So what happens when her molars come in? Is there still room? Is it going to be extra painful? I'm also really confused about post-op feeding. I know I am supposed to feed via syringe or Haberman. I emailed the feeding team and they said to continue using our fortified formula until she is meeting her proper hydration volume (and I am supposed to ask someone- don't know who- what that is). Then I talk with the pedi and the GI dr to determine where to go from there- do we not use fortification? Do we add back in solids? They did say it would take about 5-10 days to get back to normal feeding. Lovely. It was also "highly recommended" that we give her pain pills. This is gonna be so baaaaaaaaaaad. I know, think positive thoughts right? Well, in this instance I am working under the presumption that she'll be fine as far as surgery goes but the worse I make it in my head, one of two results will occur- I will be super prepared for the nastiness which ensues or it won't be as bad as I think.
Friday, February 4, 2011
Pre-op, My Birthday
Yeah, same day- can you believe it? What luck, right?
So for my PRS families, here is how our day went:
We started the day at the plastic surgeon's office. We noticed a lot of babies in the waiting room. We went back and met with our surgeon's PA. She seemed very smart and knowledgeable (and very nice!) and would be assisting during Ellie's surgery so it was reassuring that we were talking with someone who actually knew what was about to go on. My concern was that we would meet with a nurse or someone who would repeatedly answer the equivalent of "I dont know." The PA also told us that our surgeon sees, on average, 70 babies every Thursday. This is disheartening, to know that so many babies need help. It's also helpful because it reassures me that clearly our surgeon does this a lot, and he's good at it. She also gave us a few pages of instructions and FAQs, some of which I had on my own. For the benefit of those parents who do NOT have such a sheet, I will post them here. And wow, brace for a ton of paperwork!
The surgery should last 45 minutes. Yep, no multiple hours. I was shocked but relieved. She will be in recovery for about another hour before she is brought back to her room, where we'll be waiting. She doesn't have to be weaned, per se, but no more paci post-surgery. I really can't think of anything that's gonna suck worse for me lol (no pun intended)!! They have said we may have to syringe feed her post-op, but most likely will just continue with the haberman feedings for the next 2-3 weeks. I asked about feeding solids, and got an iffy reply, even when I explained we had a rubber-tipped spoon. So just to be safe, we're going to regress to bottle-only for a while. Its not like its going to hurt her. She's not likely to develop oral aversion at this point, and only for a few weeks of feeding via haberman. Her tongue will be tied down but is likely to be untied during her recovery period. We will be using the no-nos for about 2-3 weeks, but only when I can't watch her to make sure she's not putting things- like her thumb- in her mouth. Guess that goes for sophie too? We're getting a double repair- he will repair the floor of the nasal cavity and create a palate. I am hoping this will help decrease nasality in the future. The chances of needing a second repair for this procedure across the board is 20%. They will watch for apnea in the hospital and if it comes up we will deal with it then. We will also need to watch for infection. We will be given tylenol with codeine and nystatin to deal with the possibility of thrush. We were also told be prepared to spend 2-3 nights (not days, nights).
Then we went to the hospital for their pre-op. It was almost entirely paperwork, then they took her BP, heartrate, measured her head, and weighed her. Her weight has stalled at 11 lbs. The hospital told us they will call and tell us what time our surgery is and what time to arrive. We were told by the desk clerk (because I asked) that our surgery is scheduled for 8 am and we should arrive at 6 am (at first I was like oh thats so early but then quickly realized- cmon, am I gonna sleep that night anyway?). He told us that we could get "bumped" if a smaller baby needing surgery comes in. I laughed hysterically on the inside. Trust me, dear sir, there ain't no smaller baby comin in here than my baby. Especially before the crack of dawn.
So it was long, and mostly uneventful. More like a pain the butt. All that time and paperwork so we can agree to let our little girl have surgery. But now we must focus on the weekend, which will entail doing laundry so we can pack for next week. Mostly I look forward to next year when I can honestly not remember what I did this year for my birthday. Although perhaps skipping ahead even a month would be enough!
So for my PRS families, here is how our day went:
We started the day at the plastic surgeon's office. We noticed a lot of babies in the waiting room. We went back and met with our surgeon's PA. She seemed very smart and knowledgeable (and very nice!) and would be assisting during Ellie's surgery so it was reassuring that we were talking with someone who actually knew what was about to go on. My concern was that we would meet with a nurse or someone who would repeatedly answer the equivalent of "I dont know." The PA also told us that our surgeon sees, on average, 70 babies every Thursday. This is disheartening, to know that so many babies need help. It's also helpful because it reassures me that clearly our surgeon does this a lot, and he's good at it. She also gave us a few pages of instructions and FAQs, some of which I had on my own. For the benefit of those parents who do NOT have such a sheet, I will post them here. And wow, brace for a ton of paperwork!
The surgery should last 45 minutes. Yep, no multiple hours. I was shocked but relieved. She will be in recovery for about another hour before she is brought back to her room, where we'll be waiting. She doesn't have to be weaned, per se, but no more paci post-surgery. I really can't think of anything that's gonna suck worse for me lol (no pun intended)!! They have said we may have to syringe feed her post-op, but most likely will just continue with the haberman feedings for the next 2-3 weeks. I asked about feeding solids, and got an iffy reply, even when I explained we had a rubber-tipped spoon. So just to be safe, we're going to regress to bottle-only for a while. Its not like its going to hurt her. She's not likely to develop oral aversion at this point, and only for a few weeks of feeding via haberman. Her tongue will be tied down but is likely to be untied during her recovery period. We will be using the no-nos for about 2-3 weeks, but only when I can't watch her to make sure she's not putting things- like her thumb- in her mouth. Guess that goes for sophie too? We're getting a double repair- he will repair the floor of the nasal cavity and create a palate. I am hoping this will help decrease nasality in the future. The chances of needing a second repair for this procedure across the board is 20%. They will watch for apnea in the hospital and if it comes up we will deal with it then. We will also need to watch for infection. We will be given tylenol with codeine and nystatin to deal with the possibility of thrush. We were also told be prepared to spend 2-3 nights (not days, nights).
Then we went to the hospital for their pre-op. It was almost entirely paperwork, then they took her BP, heartrate, measured her head, and weighed her. Her weight has stalled at 11 lbs. The hospital told us they will call and tell us what time our surgery is and what time to arrive. We were told by the desk clerk (because I asked) that our surgery is scheduled for 8 am and we should arrive at 6 am (at first I was like oh thats so early but then quickly realized- cmon, am I gonna sleep that night anyway?). He told us that we could get "bumped" if a smaller baby needing surgery comes in. I laughed hysterically on the inside. Trust me, dear sir, there ain't no smaller baby comin in here than my baby. Especially before the crack of dawn.
So it was long, and mostly uneventful. More like a pain the butt. All that time and paperwork so we can agree to let our little girl have surgery. But now we must focus on the weekend, which will entail doing laundry so we can pack for next week. Mostly I look forward to next year when I can honestly not remember what I did this year for my birthday. Although perhaps skipping ahead even a month would be enough!
Saturday, January 29, 2011
6 month appointment
Can't believe this slipped my mind. Twice, in a way. Ellie had her 6 month check up last week. I nearly passed out when the nurse said she weighed 10 lbs 15 ozs. I started cussing, over and over. She re-weighed Ellie and she said the most would be 11 lbs even. I was panicking. She lost weight. SHE LOST WEIGHT?!?!? Please no ng tube, we're so close to the surgery. Please no ng tube. Our pediatrician came in and said she had gained over 2 lbs since her last visit and he felt that was good. I guess he forgot that two weeks earlier she had weighed nearly the same exact amount (give or take 2 ounces). I'm worried that the surgeon is going to push back her surgery date because of her size. I don't know how rational that thought is, because I know all PRS babies are small and this surgeon prefers surgery at 6 months (the earlier the better is his motto). So the surgical pre-op is at 10 and the hospital pre-op with anesthesia is at 11:30. Both on my birthday. Rockin.
The reason I said twice is because on her actual 6-month "birthday" I completely forgot it was her birthday. Then I felt like a schmuck. Then I said, well, this weekend I'll get a cupcake with a candle for her. Guess what I didn't do? I know its not a big deal but I still feel crappy about it.
On the same note, Ellie fought her 6 month growth spurt tooth and frickin nail. Tired and fought sleep. Hungry and cried while being fed. No independent play, mommy needed to hold her all day every day. It was nightmarish. I did my usual routine of things to figure out what was wrong with her- gas drops, teething gel, constipation aids... nothing. I did my usual research and learned of the delightful 6 month growth spurt. I took a bunch of pictures, I heard that sometimes you can actually see how the baby has changed. I know this to be true of her earlier spurts but I haven't had time to reflect on the pictures of this spurt. I am happy to report she finally fits into some of her 3-month clothes.
The pediatrician said by her 9 month appointment she will be a whole new baby. I look forward to that very much.
The reason I said twice is because on her actual 6-month "birthday" I completely forgot it was her birthday. Then I felt like a schmuck. Then I said, well, this weekend I'll get a cupcake with a candle for her. Guess what I didn't do? I know its not a big deal but I still feel crappy about it.
On the same note, Ellie fought her 6 month growth spurt tooth and frickin nail. Tired and fought sleep. Hungry and cried while being fed. No independent play, mommy needed to hold her all day every day. It was nightmarish. I did my usual routine of things to figure out what was wrong with her- gas drops, teething gel, constipation aids... nothing. I did my usual research and learned of the delightful 6 month growth spurt. I took a bunch of pictures, I heard that sometimes you can actually see how the baby has changed. I know this to be true of her earlier spurts but I haven't had time to reflect on the pictures of this spurt. I am happy to report she finally fits into some of her 3-month clothes.
The pediatrician said by her 9 month appointment she will be a whole new baby. I look forward to that very much.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Side note
Normally, I try to keep this blog all about Ellie because, well, quite frankly, she's the most important person in the world to me. Her health and well-being are paramount. I spend every waking minute of my life (and hers) with her. But I have to digress a bit because I find myself unable to forget a conversation I had with my brother.
A slight prologue- I love my brother. He's a great guy. He's smart, he's very, very funny and witty. He is mature and responsible. He's a great dad. He married an awesome lady. He trusted me enough to let me babysit my niece all the time for 6 months. I trust him enough that he and his wife are in charge of Ellie if anything happens to my husband and I. All that love and adoration aside, he can be a real... we'll go with jerk.
The other day he was concerned about the upcoming arrival of his son/my nephew. He asked if I was going to have another child, and I said no. (Of course to be fair I never said I was going to have any) and he said he was worried about having 2 young kids. I tried to assure him that it would fine, he will have no issues since they are relatively far apart in age (just under 2 years apart), etc. His response was "HA! You just said you wouldn't have any more and you're trying to convince me having more is ok!" Well, yes, I was. For a few reasons.
First, as the older sister and a friend, it's my job to reassure my friends and family that everything will be ok. That's just being a nice, supportive person. Second, our first born children couldn't be more different. I didn't want to point that out to him because I work so hard every day to remind myself, and everyone around me, that Ellie is a "normal" baby. That "special needs" is just a stupid label she'll probably be able to leave behind in a year or so. That she's even advanced in some ways. If he had a baby in NICU for a few days, if he had a baby that had to wear an apnea monitor, if he had a baby that had an entire special team assigned to her at the local children's hospital, if his baby had an entire team assigned to her by the state government, maybe if his daughter had a massive surgery with horrific looking recovery, if his baby was threatened with an ng tube, or had to have formula recipes approved by a feeding and nutrition team and a GI doctor, then we could compare parental skills. And, on the other side of the coin, maybe if I had a near-perfect pregnancy, a great vaginal birth resulting in a perfectly healthy baby that could breastfeed exclusively for months on end, maybe I'd be more inclined to do it again.
But I said nothing other than, "you'll be fine." I guess I just don't want to have keep pointing out how different Ellie is when all I want is for her to be is, well, the same.
A slight prologue- I love my brother. He's a great guy. He's smart, he's very, very funny and witty. He is mature and responsible. He's a great dad. He married an awesome lady. He trusted me enough to let me babysit my niece all the time for 6 months. I trust him enough that he and his wife are in charge of Ellie if anything happens to my husband and I. All that love and adoration aside, he can be a real... we'll go with jerk.
The other day he was concerned about the upcoming arrival of his son/my nephew. He asked if I was going to have another child, and I said no. (Of course to be fair I never said I was going to have any) and he said he was worried about having 2 young kids. I tried to assure him that it would fine, he will have no issues since they are relatively far apart in age (just under 2 years apart), etc. His response was "HA! You just said you wouldn't have any more and you're trying to convince me having more is ok!" Well, yes, I was. For a few reasons.
First, as the older sister and a friend, it's my job to reassure my friends and family that everything will be ok. That's just being a nice, supportive person. Second, our first born children couldn't be more different. I didn't want to point that out to him because I work so hard every day to remind myself, and everyone around me, that Ellie is a "normal" baby. That "special needs" is just a stupid label she'll probably be able to leave behind in a year or so. That she's even advanced in some ways. If he had a baby in NICU for a few days, if he had a baby that had to wear an apnea monitor, if he had a baby that had an entire special team assigned to her at the local children's hospital, if his baby had an entire team assigned to her by the state government, maybe if his daughter had a massive surgery with horrific looking recovery, if his baby was threatened with an ng tube, or had to have formula recipes approved by a feeding and nutrition team and a GI doctor, then we could compare parental skills. And, on the other side of the coin, maybe if I had a near-perfect pregnancy, a great vaginal birth resulting in a perfectly healthy baby that could breastfeed exclusively for months on end, maybe I'd be more inclined to do it again.
But I said nothing other than, "you'll be fine." I guess I just don't want to have keep pointing out how different Ellie is when all I want is for her to be is, well, the same.
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