March 11
My post from last year is following this. This day will forever be one where I know I will stop and thank God for His grace and mercy. His steadfast love. Him being HEALER. Him loving us.
If you walked through these days and weeks with us in 2013, I still am so thankful for you. It was one of the scariest times in my life and I am so thankful to have had friends and family there for us.
As this day approaches each year, I can remember the raw emotions from the day and days following. It is strange the memories from that time that flood.
I don't know that I will ever see or hear that date again and not relive the memories from 2013. I won't read about them since my other blog is history, so I will recount them.
Titus was one week old. We went to my one week postop and David stayed in the car with the baby. He had spit up some weird green color something the day before, but we didn't think much of it and we had an appointment with the pediatrician later that day. While David was in the car with him, he exploded the green stuff, multiple times.
We headed home to clean him up and attempt to rest a little. The big boys were at my parents so we could make all the appointments. David was going back to work the following day.
We went to the pediatrician. He had lost weight, but had been eating a ton. I was concerned. I knew the green stuff couldn't be good, but I chalked it up in my head as reflux. I think I knew it was something far worse, but I was in denial. It turns out that as soon as we showed her the color on a burp cloth, her face said it all. She left the room. She came back to tell us head to Children's ER immediately and they knew we were coming. She told us do not even go home, just get to the ER.
We did. We were scared. We didn't know what was going on, but we knew it was not good. We carried our sweet baby down what seemed like a million hallways. They took us back immediately. Everyone was so patient with us. They let us cry. They never made me put Titus down and offered to do all they needed to with me holding him.
I took him back for the last test. The barium drip. They needed him to drink it. They were about to put a tube in but I insisted they not because of his Factor VIII deficiency. I asked if I could try from a bottle. They let me hold him and he drank it and went to sleep. I put him on the table so they could watch it. The first few drips everyone was pleased with. It did what it was supposed to. The next one did not. The surgeon started explaining. It wasn't good. He didn't know how bad it was, but he told me he would see me after surgery. I was thinking we were being admitted.
I went back in the room with Titus. The surgeon fellow followed me. He started telling David and drawing us pictures. They started putting tubes in Titus and hooking him up. The guy finishes talking and says "I will meet yall up there." Like, he meant we were going. Twenty minutes later, we handed Titus over.
Emergency surgery. Our sweet baby has malrotaion of his intestines and volvulus. We did not know what that meant or how bad it was. We knew it happened 8- 10 weeks gestation and it could look like anything when they got in there. They told us all of his major organs could have severe oxygen deprivation, that it could be that they found some organs completely dead...If I think about it, all those raw emotions flood me. It is crazy. A year later, I can remember it like it were yesterday.
I will never forget a nurse offering to get me a chair because I was seven days from a c-section and sitting and holding him in that cold waiting area where a bed with a patient usually is. The surgeon and anesthesiologist came to introduce themselves. I remember just being blank and cold. He was wrapped in my arms. I had no idea when the next time I would hold him would be or what that would look like. We kissed him and handed him off. My feet weighed like a hundred pounds and we tried to compose ourselves and make it to the surgery waiting area. When we arrived back two men from church were still there.
Soon, the room began filling up. All with familiar faces of people we loved and that loved us and our baby. They told us surgery would be about 4 hours and it was. It was a long 4 hours. People dropped their lives to come be with us, pray for us, love on us, feed us. They canceled meetings, left their families, came after hard days for themselves, broke in our house, brought us clothes... We will forever be grateful. I just remember talking and trying not to think about what was going on. My family is all pretty twisted in the fact that we tend to laugh through hard stuff. It is like we just keep busy and joking and we make it. I tried to do that. The surgeon came out.
What I heard from his mouth was "Miracle." He didn't say that, but I heard that. We knew that everything that was going on it could have a very bad outcome, we were just waiting for what. He said, "He had a twist (one), all of his organs are still working (they didn't lose oxygen from the twist), and he is going to be ok. You will be here until his organs wake up and we don't know how long that could be." I didn't really have questions at that point, I just wanted my baby. At this point I am thinking who cares how long we are here.
We had no idea how long we would be there or how long it would take his organs to "wake up" from surgery. We did know that they should be perfectly fine when they did. We got Titus. We didn't get to hold him because of all the tubes. We let all of our visitors see him. When everyone left, we headed home at 1:00 AM for clothes for our stay. We got very little sleep that first night. The next day there was really no changes. He just slept a whole lot because they started giving him real pain medicine not just tylenol. They did put a PICC line in that day. We pleaded for them to not do it in his head because they had already tried an IV there and it didn't work, plus it was horrible to look at. They were able to get it in his foot.
Tuesday night, we fell in love with our nurse. She let us bathe him, hold him, and clothe him. Nobody had even offered. She changed his sheets and talked to him. She talked to us. She became concerned about his heart rate in the night and made the decision to stop the pain medication. Everything came up. The daytime nurse started it back because he was in a lot of pain. He was sleeping but crying out in his sleep. He was restless. The afternoon/evening nurse came in, brought in a chair and continuously watched the screen. All the numbers were really low. They weren't coming up. She called in a team of doctors and we were told he was going to NICU. It wasn't looking really good. Nobody had any answers really. Could have been infection, could have been anything. Nobody really knew. We just knew something was really wrong.
We moved to NICU about 11:30. Nick, Ashley, Holly, Brandon, and Lindsey stayed with us through that whole ordeal and we will forever be grateful for that time. We were able to laugh, cry, talk, eat, drink coffee to stay awake, I cried some more, but they helped pass the time and ease our worries. They fed us and I don't think Krispy Kreme has ever made me feel like I was on crack quite like that. I couldn't eat because I was literally sick to my stomach, but that doughnut looked good. I ate it while I drank Dreamland tea to stay awake. Then coffee.
I had gone to thank our nurse from the night before for taking such good care of our baby and I told her we were moving. She dropped what she was doing to come take him with our nurse. They told us where to stay and the NICU staff would come get us when he was ready and settled. The last time we saw him, he was in and out of sleep and lethargic. When we went into the room, he was moving, wide awake, and making noises around the suction tube. The practitioner said, "We thought we were getting a sick baby. He must have taken a magic elevator ride. He looks great." Um, no mam it wasn't a magic elevator ride it is a gracious Savior who again showed us a little bit of miraculous. We settled in for the night. Our nurse was amazing. She had the best personality and we actually slept that night.
The next morning, Jimmi, my cousin was there. She is a nurse on that floor. She couldn't be our nurse because of the whole we share blood thing, but her friends could. She assured us he was in good hands. I had no intentions of leaving that hospital without Titus. I was terrified something would happen and we wouldn't be there. They assured me they would call and Jimmi was right down the hall. We needed to see our big boys and they needed to see us. I really needed a good hot shower. I remember standing there while David had gone to get a drink just looking at Titus pleading for God to do something so we could take our baby home. He was a newborn, we were supposed to be a family of five and we were all separated. I was a little hormonal and an emotional wreck and it is a wonder somebody didn't try and prescribe me something.
We got dirty clothes and bags to repack and we were about to leave. We had gone somewhere down the hall I don't even remember for what. When we came back, the nurse said, "He Pooped!" You have no idea what those words felt like. This meant his organs were waking up and they were working. There was still alot of green stuff coming through the suction tube, but this was progress, people. I have never been so excited for poop. I couldn't even make eye contact with anybody because nobody knew about my plead fest with God and I knew I would lose it trying to explain. I was seriously having a hormonal madness that day. We left the hospital and went home to shower. Seeing the outside and breathing the air was so refreshing. It felt great outside. We took LONG showers, checked the mail, got more clothes, and headed to see our big boys. They were not near as excited to see us as we were them. They were with B, Sue Sue, and Lindsey and were quite content with that. We took them some of their toys so they would have fresh things to to play with. We spent a little time with them and headed back.
There was no change for hours. Right before shift change that night, we were getting ready to attempt to sleep. Little man pulled that tube right out of his throat. He had not been bound or anything because he was 9 days old and didn't really move. He reached right up and pulled it out. She just kind of poked it back in. He kept being agitated and I could tell it was bothering him. Our nurse from the night before came back and we loved her. I told her what happened and before she did anything else, she came to check on him. She said "we have to redo it." I am thinking like her and another nurse. She says, "hold this and starts to pull while I hold." I turn around and my husband has disappeared. While we were pulling, he started throwing up. LOTS of the green stuff. She put a new drain thing in and it immediately started running clear. There would be occasional green but minimal compared to before. He had cleared it all out. She just started laughing and said, "I guess he wanted out of here quicker." I held him and she changed all of the sheets. We cleaned him up and went to sleep. I remember sitting in that chair thinking about my pleading with God that morning. In one day he pooped and cleared out his guts. I had been charging my phone and I got a text from a friend that said,
The day we left to come home.
Titus was one week old. We went to my one week postop and David stayed in the car with the baby. He had spit up some weird green color something the day before, but we didn't think much of it and we had an appointment with the pediatrician later that day. While David was in the car with him, he exploded the green stuff, multiple times.
We headed home to clean him up and attempt to rest a little. The big boys were at my parents so we could make all the appointments. David was going back to work the following day.
We went to the pediatrician. He had lost weight, but had been eating a ton. I was concerned. I knew the green stuff couldn't be good, but I chalked it up in my head as reflux. I think I knew it was something far worse, but I was in denial. It turns out that as soon as we showed her the color on a burp cloth, her face said it all. She left the room. She came back to tell us head to Children's ER immediately and they knew we were coming. She told us do not even go home, just get to the ER.
We did. We were scared. We didn't know what was going on, but we knew it was not good. We carried our sweet baby down what seemed like a million hallways. They took us back immediately. Everyone was so patient with us. They let us cry. They never made me put Titus down and offered to do all they needed to with me holding him.
I took him back for the last test. The barium drip. They needed him to drink it. They were about to put a tube in but I insisted they not because of his Factor VIII deficiency. I asked if I could try from a bottle. They let me hold him and he drank it and went to sleep. I put him on the table so they could watch it. The first few drips everyone was pleased with. It did what it was supposed to. The next one did not. The surgeon started explaining. It wasn't good. He didn't know how bad it was, but he told me he would see me after surgery. I was thinking we were being admitted.
I went back in the room with Titus. The surgeon fellow followed me. He started telling David and drawing us pictures. They started putting tubes in Titus and hooking him up. The guy finishes talking and says "I will meet yall up there." Like, he meant we were going. Twenty minutes later, we handed Titus over.
Emergency surgery. Our sweet baby has malrotaion of his intestines and volvulus. We did not know what that meant or how bad it was. We knew it happened 8- 10 weeks gestation and it could look like anything when they got in there. They told us all of his major organs could have severe oxygen deprivation, that it could be that they found some organs completely dead...If I think about it, all those raw emotions flood me. It is crazy. A year later, I can remember it like it were yesterday.
I will never forget a nurse offering to get me a chair because I was seven days from a c-section and sitting and holding him in that cold waiting area where a bed with a patient usually is. The surgeon and anesthesiologist came to introduce themselves. I remember just being blank and cold. He was wrapped in my arms. I had no idea when the next time I would hold him would be or what that would look like. We kissed him and handed him off. My feet weighed like a hundred pounds and we tried to compose ourselves and make it to the surgery waiting area. When we arrived back two men from church were still there.
Soon, the room began filling up. All with familiar faces of people we loved and that loved us and our baby. They told us surgery would be about 4 hours and it was. It was a long 4 hours. People dropped their lives to come be with us, pray for us, love on us, feed us. They canceled meetings, left their families, came after hard days for themselves, broke in our house, brought us clothes... We will forever be grateful. I just remember talking and trying not to think about what was going on. My family is all pretty twisted in the fact that we tend to laugh through hard stuff. It is like we just keep busy and joking and we make it. I tried to do that. The surgeon came out.
What I heard from his mouth was "Miracle." He didn't say that, but I heard that. We knew that everything that was going on it could have a very bad outcome, we were just waiting for what. He said, "He had a twist (one), all of his organs are still working (they didn't lose oxygen from the twist), and he is going to be ok. You will be here until his organs wake up and we don't know how long that could be." I didn't really have questions at that point, I just wanted my baby. At this point I am thinking who cares how long we are here.
We had no idea how long we would be there or how long it would take his organs to "wake up" from surgery. We did know that they should be perfectly fine when they did. We got Titus. We didn't get to hold him because of all the tubes. We let all of our visitors see him. When everyone left, we headed home at 1:00 AM for clothes for our stay. We got very little sleep that first night. The next day there was really no changes. He just slept a whole lot because they started giving him real pain medicine not just tylenol. They did put a PICC line in that day. We pleaded for them to not do it in his head because they had already tried an IV there and it didn't work, plus it was horrible to look at. They were able to get it in his foot.
Tuesday night, we fell in love with our nurse. She let us bathe him, hold him, and clothe him. Nobody had even offered. She changed his sheets and talked to him. She talked to us. She became concerned about his heart rate in the night and made the decision to stop the pain medication. Everything came up. The daytime nurse started it back because he was in a lot of pain. He was sleeping but crying out in his sleep. He was restless. The afternoon/evening nurse came in, brought in a chair and continuously watched the screen. All the numbers were really low. They weren't coming up. She called in a team of doctors and we were told he was going to NICU. It wasn't looking really good. Nobody had any answers really. Could have been infection, could have been anything. Nobody really knew. We just knew something was really wrong.
We moved to NICU about 11:30. Nick, Ashley, Holly, Brandon, and Lindsey stayed with us through that whole ordeal and we will forever be grateful for that time. We were able to laugh, cry, talk, eat, drink coffee to stay awake, I cried some more, but they helped pass the time and ease our worries. They fed us and I don't think Krispy Kreme has ever made me feel like I was on crack quite like that. I couldn't eat because I was literally sick to my stomach, but that doughnut looked good. I ate it while I drank Dreamland tea to stay awake. Then coffee.
I had gone to thank our nurse from the night before for taking such good care of our baby and I told her we were moving. She dropped what she was doing to come take him with our nurse. They told us where to stay and the NICU staff would come get us when he was ready and settled. The last time we saw him, he was in and out of sleep and lethargic. When we went into the room, he was moving, wide awake, and making noises around the suction tube. The practitioner said, "We thought we were getting a sick baby. He must have taken a magic elevator ride. He looks great." Um, no mam it wasn't a magic elevator ride it is a gracious Savior who again showed us a little bit of miraculous. We settled in for the night. Our nurse was amazing. She had the best personality and we actually slept that night.
The next morning, Jimmi, my cousin was there. She is a nurse on that floor. She couldn't be our nurse because of the whole we share blood thing, but her friends could. She assured us he was in good hands. I had no intentions of leaving that hospital without Titus. I was terrified something would happen and we wouldn't be there. They assured me they would call and Jimmi was right down the hall. We needed to see our big boys and they needed to see us. I really needed a good hot shower. I remember standing there while David had gone to get a drink just looking at Titus pleading for God to do something so we could take our baby home. He was a newborn, we were supposed to be a family of five and we were all separated. I was a little hormonal and an emotional wreck and it is a wonder somebody didn't try and prescribe me something.
We got dirty clothes and bags to repack and we were about to leave. We had gone somewhere down the hall I don't even remember for what. When we came back, the nurse said, "He Pooped!" You have no idea what those words felt like. This meant his organs were waking up and they were working. There was still alot of green stuff coming through the suction tube, but this was progress, people. I have never been so excited for poop. I couldn't even make eye contact with anybody because nobody knew about my plead fest with God and I knew I would lose it trying to explain. I was seriously having a hormonal madness that day. We left the hospital and went home to shower. Seeing the outside and breathing the air was so refreshing. It felt great outside. We took LONG showers, checked the mail, got more clothes, and headed to see our big boys. They were not near as excited to see us as we were them. They were with B, Sue Sue, and Lindsey and were quite content with that. We took them some of their toys so they would have fresh things to to play with. We spent a little time with them and headed back.
There was no change for hours. Right before shift change that night, we were getting ready to attempt to sleep. Little man pulled that tube right out of his throat. He had not been bound or anything because he was 9 days old and didn't really move. He reached right up and pulled it out. She just kind of poked it back in. He kept being agitated and I could tell it was bothering him. Our nurse from the night before came back and we loved her. I told her what happened and before she did anything else, she came to check on him. She said "we have to redo it." I am thinking like her and another nurse. She says, "hold this and starts to pull while I hold." I turn around and my husband has disappeared. While we were pulling, he started throwing up. LOTS of the green stuff. She put a new drain thing in and it immediately started running clear. There would be occasional green but minimal compared to before. He had cleared it all out. She just started laughing and said, "I guess he wanted out of here quicker." I held him and she changed all of the sheets. We cleaned him up and went to sleep. I remember sitting in that chair thinking about my pleading with God that morning. In one day he pooped and cleared out his guts. I had been charging my phone and I got a text from a friend that said,
Psalm 107:19-21
Then they cried to the LORD in their trouble, and he saved them from their distress. He sent forth his word and healed them; he rescued them from the grave. Let them give thanks to the LORD for his unfailing love and his wonderful deeds for men.
We stayed in NICU one more day. Then, we moved to seventh floor again. We were just waiting for them to let us feed him. On Friday, I knew they would let us. They didn't. Finally, Saturday, we started pedialyte. 2.5 ml. That made him mad. You get more tylenol than that. We slowly moved up to 10ml. The next morning, he got milk. We started with 2 oz. We added one oz every feeding. We couldn't leave until he was drinking 6 oz per feeding. He was starving from not eating for a week. He obliged. We moved the ninth floor. That is the top. You are almost out when you get there. We went there late Tuesday night and we came home midday Wednesday. Well, not home because there was no power because of a wind storm, but the next night we got to come home. Finally, all five of us. David had to go back to work.
There were so many things to be thankful for. His work was amazing. They didn't charge him days or make him file any leave, they just paid him and let him be with us. They sent us an enormous food basket. Countless people brought us meals. One time we went and got our own, but that was because we needed to bust out for some fresh air. People kept us company. People all over the world were praying for us. Mom and Dad took care of the big boys and brought them to see us alot. People washed our clothes, offered us money and I can't even remember what else. We bumped into people at the hospital that said, "You know so and so we have been praying for Titus."
David and I were and still are so grateful for the relationships we have in our lives. During those nine days we learned alot. Alot about us. Alot about our friends. Alot about the gracious Father we serve.
There were so many things to be thankful for. His work was amazing. They didn't charge him days or make him file any leave, they just paid him and let him be with us. They sent us an enormous food basket. Countless people brought us meals. One time we went and got our own, but that was because we needed to bust out for some fresh air. People kept us company. People all over the world were praying for us. Mom and Dad took care of the big boys and brought them to see us alot. People washed our clothes, offered us money and I can't even remember what else. We bumped into people at the hospital that said, "You know so and so we have been praying for Titus."
David and I were and still are so grateful for the relationships we have in our lives. During those nine days we learned alot. Alot about us. Alot about our friends. Alot about the gracious Father we serve.
The day we left to come home.
Now, we celebrate with a happy, healthy, chunk of love that makes us laugh often. He is our little miracle.
No comments:
Post a Comment