Tomorrow marks the six month anniversary of the birth and death of my twins. I am searching for the words to explain how I feel, but I am at a loss. I think the biggest things I am feeling at this point are sadness and disbelief. It has been just long enough now that when I first wake up in the morning the memory of them almost seems like a dream. While I am so glad that I have started to pick up the pieces and move forward with my life, part of me is sad that as the time passes the memory becomes less real. I can no longer picture with vivid detail the tiny fingers, wet hair, and beautiful faces. It's more like a blur. I have pictures to remind me, but they don't do James and Penelope justice. They were truly beautiful babies.
Although my mind has pushed some of the details to the side, there are things I will never forget. I will never forget the look on the Doctor's face as she told me that "Things don't look good". I will never forget those five minutes of lying in the hospital bed alone waiting for Micah and Gwenevere to return from their walk around the hospital. I didn't cry. I just stared at the TV playing an old episode of "The Andy Griffith Show" as I tried to find the words to tell my husband that we might be losing our son and daughter. When he opened the door to my room I just looked and him and began to weep. He nodded and said that he would go call my parents to pick up Gwenevere to take her home. At that moment I didn't know that my babies were going to die, but I felt it.
I will never forget the feelings of intense love I had the moment I met my babies. I was shocked that it was just as intense as the moment I first met Gwenevere. I knew they were going to die, but at that moment all that mattered was that I was their Mom and I loved them more than anything else in the world. I cherished every minute I had with them repeatedly telling both of them how much I loved them and how sorry I was. After snuggling each of them I reluctantly handed them over to Micah so they could meet their Dad. He cried over their tiny bodies and whispered how much he loved them. With each of them, the moment they passed he looked me in the eye and said they were gone.
It is true what everyone says, it gets better with time. Sometimes though, time is painfully slow. I remember those early days after their death. I was in a fog. I cried often and violently. My body shook and I made noises that I didn't know I could make. I just felt such despair, I didn't know what to do. My eyes practically swelled shut a few times and I would lay with ice packs on my face to reduce the swelling. I wasn't really a mother to Gwenevere or a wife to Micah during those first few weeks, I was just trying to survive. I didn't like leaving the house. The only people I saw were people that came to our house to visit or bring us meals. I really don't remember that time, only that I was lost.
I am now slowly starting to get my life back. I am engaged and playful with Gwenevere, laughing with Micah, exercising daily, going to a weekly yoga class, hanging out with friends, shopping and cooking. There is still pain, quite a bit in fact. Sometimes it hits me like a wave and almost takes my breath away. Penelope and James are my children and I miss them both so much. But, I am starting to come to terms with the fact that they are gone. With their short life and death they have given me a gift. I have a new sense of appreciation for life. Gwenevere is my daughter and she is here. She is strong. She survived a whole nine months of pregnancy and was born into this world and crying, healthy baby. She is my miracle. Two of my children may be gone, but I am so lucky to have one amazing child here with me. I think that James and Penelope have other gifts that they have given to me and others, I just haven't discovered what they are yet. Their lives may have been short, but they were not meaningless. I know as time continues to pass I will continue to heal. But I will never forget my precious angels.
Monday, February 18, 2013
Wednesday, February 6, 2013
Surprise
Several months before the death of my son & daughter, I was sure I would never be pregnant again. I remember vividly being 8 weeks pregnant with the twins, before I even knew I was having twins. I was so nauseated and tired that at night I would cry to Micah. I was excited to pregnant again, but I felt so awful that I would swear to my husband that "No matter what happens with this pregnancy, this is it. I can't go through this again!". At that time, it didn't matter to me if I gave birth to a healthy baby or not. I was unwilling to even entertain the possibility of putting myself through the torture of pregnancy sickness ever again. I remember thinking to myself that I already had one healthy child, that could be enough.
Not long after delivering James and Penelope I had a follow up appointment with my OB. She talked to me about how I was physically and emotionally recovering and went over my birth control options. Then she asked me a question that shocked me. She asked me how long I wanted to wait before trying to become pregnant again. I stammered to find an answer, and I replied that I didn't plan on getting pregnant again. She smiled at me and told me that I didn't have to make any decisions now. As I drove home from my appointment I felt angry. How could she assume that I would want to get pregnant again? How could I even think about having another child while I was in the wake of grief?
As the months have gone by my feelings have slowly shifted. I have begun to be more open to the idea of someday trying again. Am I ready to try again right now? Absolutely not. My husband and I have agreed to give ourselves time to grieve and heal from our tremendous loss. We set an arbitrary time line of sixteen months before we even entertain the idea of TTC. Until today, I wasn't even sure that I would ever desire another pregnancy.
Yesterday I got the crazy idea in my head that I could possibly be pregnant. Once the crazy seed was planted it bloomed into a full blown freak out tree that had me imagining going in for an ultrasound and discovering that I was indeed pregnant with triplets. To ease my mind I stopped at Walgreen's on my way home from my yoga class and I bought a three pack of pregnancy tests. I bought three tests under the assumption that this would not be the only time that I would need assurance that I was not pregnant. Before going to bed I set out one test next to the toilet so I would remember to take it in the morning.
This morning I woke up a little earlier than usual. Because I was now convinced that I was surely pregnant I sprang out of bed to take the test. I set the stick down on the counter and laid back in bed to wait for the required two minutes for it to process. As I laid there a shocking thought popped into my head. I hoped it was positive. I couldn't believe what I was thinking. I came to my senses and reminded myself that I am not ready yet. I walked back into the bathroom and glaring back at me were the words "Not Pregnant". I felt a sense of relief and disappointment wash over me. My conflicting emotions left me feeling confused.
As the day has gone on I have had time to process my thoughts. I don't really want to be pregnant right now. I do want to have another child, someday. My surprising reaction this morning was just a glimmer of my desire to bring home another healthy baby. For now I will continue to enjoy all of the one-on -one time with my amazing daughter. I will continue my journey through grief and allow my spirit and body to heal. I will enjoy the quality time with my husband. I will remember and honor the life and death of my son and daughter. I will settle into my new role of a mother to one living child and two children that are no longer with me. I will be open to the possibility of one day braving the treacherous 40 weeks, but not yet.
Not long after delivering James and Penelope I had a follow up appointment with my OB. She talked to me about how I was physically and emotionally recovering and went over my birth control options. Then she asked me a question that shocked me. She asked me how long I wanted to wait before trying to become pregnant again. I stammered to find an answer, and I replied that I didn't plan on getting pregnant again. She smiled at me and told me that I didn't have to make any decisions now. As I drove home from my appointment I felt angry. How could she assume that I would want to get pregnant again? How could I even think about having another child while I was in the wake of grief?
As the months have gone by my feelings have slowly shifted. I have begun to be more open to the idea of someday trying again. Am I ready to try again right now? Absolutely not. My husband and I have agreed to give ourselves time to grieve and heal from our tremendous loss. We set an arbitrary time line of sixteen months before we even entertain the idea of TTC. Until today, I wasn't even sure that I would ever desire another pregnancy.
Yesterday I got the crazy idea in my head that I could possibly be pregnant. Once the crazy seed was planted it bloomed into a full blown freak out tree that had me imagining going in for an ultrasound and discovering that I was indeed pregnant with triplets. To ease my mind I stopped at Walgreen's on my way home from my yoga class and I bought a three pack of pregnancy tests. I bought three tests under the assumption that this would not be the only time that I would need assurance that I was not pregnant. Before going to bed I set out one test next to the toilet so I would remember to take it in the morning.
This morning I woke up a little earlier than usual. Because I was now convinced that I was surely pregnant I sprang out of bed to take the test. I set the stick down on the counter and laid back in bed to wait for the required two minutes for it to process. As I laid there a shocking thought popped into my head. I hoped it was positive. I couldn't believe what I was thinking. I came to my senses and reminded myself that I am not ready yet. I walked back into the bathroom and glaring back at me were the words "Not Pregnant". I felt a sense of relief and disappointment wash over me. My conflicting emotions left me feeling confused.
As the day has gone on I have had time to process my thoughts. I don't really want to be pregnant right now. I do want to have another child, someday. My surprising reaction this morning was just a glimmer of my desire to bring home another healthy baby. For now I will continue to enjoy all of the one-on -one time with my amazing daughter. I will continue my journey through grief and allow my spirit and body to heal. I will enjoy the quality time with my husband. I will remember and honor the life and death of my son and daughter. I will settle into my new role of a mother to one living child and two children that are no longer with me. I will be open to the possibility of one day braving the treacherous 40 weeks, but not yet.
Monday, January 21, 2013
Being Shaped By Grief
It has been five months now since the birth and death of my son and daughter. When I close my eyes at night it still feels like yesterday that I was holding them in my arms saying goodbye. My life has been shaped and changed in so many ways since August 19th, 2012. I can see some positive changes coming through, and some negative too. I am holding out hope that the positive changes will stick around and I will slowly be able to let go of the negative. In some ways I have come a long way, but I also have a long way to go.
Since the day my daughter Gwenevere was born I have been a laid back parent. Even after she hadn't nursed for 24 hours in the hospital and the nurses were concerned about her blood sugar getting too low I knew she would be fine. She would eat when she was hungry, and she did. When she got sick for the first time at four months old, I didn't freak out or really even worry. I knew that the virus would run it's course and she would be fine. This in not to say that I never worried. I had my concerns like any normal parent. I worried mostly about my breast milk production and if it was enough for her. I worried about what foods to feed her when it came time to start solid foods and I decided to make her food myself from organic fruits and vegetables. I worried when she got a MRSA infection on her toe and I took her to the urgent care to get her on antibiotics right away. I worried about her frequent ear infections and that she was on antibiotics for too much of her first year. One thing I never worried about was her ability to live. That seemed like a given. She may get sick and hurt, but she would be fine and would grow up into a wonderful young lady.
Now that I have watched two of my children die with the knowledge that there was nothing anyone could do to help them I have developed a fear. I fear for the life of my toddler. She is an overall healthy toddler, with the exception of a nut allergy. Logically I know that she will be fine. But, emotionally I can't help but freak out whenever anything goes wrong. Yesterday she woke up from her nap crying and inconsolable. I didn't know what was wrong and I couldn't help her. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that perhaps her appendix was about to rupture, or maybe she developed a severe form of autism during her nap and she wouldn't be able to communicate with us anymore. Crazy, I know. Eventually, she calmed down and within an hour she was back to her normal happy self. Perhaps she woke up with a tummy ache, or she had a bad dream, or maybe she was scared because she woke up at my parents house instead of her own bed. Whatever it was, she didn't die from it.
I think before James and Penelope came into my life I never really knew what loss was. I have never had someone so precious to me die. Now, I know what it feels like to lose someone that is part of you and it scares me to death. They have made me realize just how precious Micah and Gwenevere and all of my friends and family are, and how quickly they could be gone. I let my irrational fears of Gwenevere dying take over sometimes, I can't help it. She is my child and the thought of losing her is just too much. I have learned that hospitals can't always save your child. Sometimes they gently put their hand on your shoulder and tell you "I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do". That is terrifying.
I know I can't live in fear forever. It will break me if I let it take over. I am working hard to let go. I remind myself that my child is healthy, and if she gets sick or hurt we can most like fix whatever is wrong. There is always a chance that my daughter could die. Everybody has that chance, everyday. But I can't let the fear take over my life.
The one good thing that has come from this is my complete and utter appreciation of my little girl. Gwenevere is a miracle. Everyday that I am with her is a gift and I plan to live it that way. I don't roll my eyes when she she has a tantrum over getting her coat on. I don't lose my temper when she says no to everything that I suggest. She is amazing, she is my gift and I love every moment that I get to spend with her. I can't wait to watch her grow up into an amazing young lady.
Since the day my daughter Gwenevere was born I have been a laid back parent. Even after she hadn't nursed for 24 hours in the hospital and the nurses were concerned about her blood sugar getting too low I knew she would be fine. She would eat when she was hungry, and she did. When she got sick for the first time at four months old, I didn't freak out or really even worry. I knew that the virus would run it's course and she would be fine. This in not to say that I never worried. I had my concerns like any normal parent. I worried mostly about my breast milk production and if it was enough for her. I worried about what foods to feed her when it came time to start solid foods and I decided to make her food myself from organic fruits and vegetables. I worried when she got a MRSA infection on her toe and I took her to the urgent care to get her on antibiotics right away. I worried about her frequent ear infections and that she was on antibiotics for too much of her first year. One thing I never worried about was her ability to live. That seemed like a given. She may get sick and hurt, but she would be fine and would grow up into a wonderful young lady.
Now that I have watched two of my children die with the knowledge that there was nothing anyone could do to help them I have developed a fear. I fear for the life of my toddler. She is an overall healthy toddler, with the exception of a nut allergy. Logically I know that she will be fine. But, emotionally I can't help but freak out whenever anything goes wrong. Yesterday she woke up from her nap crying and inconsolable. I didn't know what was wrong and I couldn't help her. I immediately jumped to the conclusion that perhaps her appendix was about to rupture, or maybe she developed a severe form of autism during her nap and she wouldn't be able to communicate with us anymore. Crazy, I know. Eventually, she calmed down and within an hour she was back to her normal happy self. Perhaps she woke up with a tummy ache, or she had a bad dream, or maybe she was scared because she woke up at my parents house instead of her own bed. Whatever it was, she didn't die from it.
I think before James and Penelope came into my life I never really knew what loss was. I have never had someone so precious to me die. Now, I know what it feels like to lose someone that is part of you and it scares me to death. They have made me realize just how precious Micah and Gwenevere and all of my friends and family are, and how quickly they could be gone. I let my irrational fears of Gwenevere dying take over sometimes, I can't help it. She is my child and the thought of losing her is just too much. I have learned that hospitals can't always save your child. Sometimes they gently put their hand on your shoulder and tell you "I'm sorry, there's nothing we can do". That is terrifying.
I know I can't live in fear forever. It will break me if I let it take over. I am working hard to let go. I remind myself that my child is healthy, and if she gets sick or hurt we can most like fix whatever is wrong. There is always a chance that my daughter could die. Everybody has that chance, everyday. But I can't let the fear take over my life.
The one good thing that has come from this is my complete and utter appreciation of my little girl. Gwenevere is a miracle. Everyday that I am with her is a gift and I plan to live it that way. I don't roll my eyes when she she has a tantrum over getting her coat on. I don't lose my temper when she says no to everything that I suggest. She is amazing, she is my gift and I love every moment that I get to spend with her. I can't wait to watch her grow up into an amazing young lady.
Wednesday, January 9, 2013
PTSD
It has been almost five months since I said hello and goodbye to James and Penelope. My journey through grief has been slow and painful to say the least. I don't know what I expected, but I had hoped I would be in a better place by now. I thought that as the months went by I would ease into a place of less pain. Instead of feeling better, I have been feeling worse lately. The flashbacks at night as I lay in bed, the daily anxiety, irritability, crying jags and overwhelming sadness.
Last month I saw my Doctor to talk about trying some medication to help. She immediately said that I was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. I had never even thought of that as a possibility. I thought PTSD was something that happened to veterans of war or rape victims. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. In a matter of hours I went from being a happy, healthy pregnant lady to watching my newborn son and daughter die right in front of my eyes. Of course I am traumatized.
Now that I have a name for what I am experiencing I feel a sense of calm. I know that these feelings are real and that they are there for a reason. I also know that I can be helped through therapy and medication. Next week I start a new method of therapy called EMDR, eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. It should help my brain process the trauma and develop better coping skills. I will also be starting yoga classes next week in hopes that I can learn some relaxation and breathing techniques. Later this month, I am attending a private working shop titled "Healing Birth Memories". It is designed to help mothers cope with the memories of a traumatic birth.
Through these past five months I have learned something about myself. I am a fighter. I do not sit back and idly let bad things happen. I jump in with both feet and take action. Instead of accepting my fear and anxiety I am attacking it with every tool that I have access to. I will not let this break me down, I will get through it and I will be a better person for it.
Last month I saw my Doctor to talk about trying some medication to help. She immediately said that I was suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. I had never even thought of that as a possibility. I thought PTSD was something that happened to veterans of war or rape victims. The more I thought about it, the more it made sense. In a matter of hours I went from being a happy, healthy pregnant lady to watching my newborn son and daughter die right in front of my eyes. Of course I am traumatized.
Now that I have a name for what I am experiencing I feel a sense of calm. I know that these feelings are real and that they are there for a reason. I also know that I can be helped through therapy and medication. Next week I start a new method of therapy called EMDR, eye movement desensitization and reprocessing. It should help my brain process the trauma and develop better coping skills. I will also be starting yoga classes next week in hopes that I can learn some relaxation and breathing techniques. Later this month, I am attending a private working shop titled "Healing Birth Memories". It is designed to help mothers cope with the memories of a traumatic birth.
Through these past five months I have learned something about myself. I am a fighter. I do not sit back and idly let bad things happen. I jump in with both feet and take action. Instead of accepting my fear and anxiety I am attacking it with every tool that I have access to. I will not let this break me down, I will get through it and I will be a better person for it.
Wednesday, January 2, 2013
New Year's Resolution
I am not a big fan of making New Year's resolutions, although I have done it every year since I can remember. I have never been a person with good will power and making a promise to myself in January and keeping it through December seems nearly impossible. Despite my skepticism I find myself making a resolution every January 1st in hopes that I will be able to make positive changes in my life. This New Year's Eve Micah asked me what my resolution for this year was. I thought for a moment and answered that I wanted to spend more quality time with my family and friends. At the time, it seemed like a good goal for the year. Over the last day I have pondered a little more about what I really need to do this year and I have come up with a new resolution, to let go.
While I do wish to spend more quality time with both my family and friends, I can't really give my full self until I have done some letting go. I have several things to let go of. First, I want to let go of the terrible sense of guilt I have for the death of my son and daughter. Logically I know that I did nothing wrong, but I still hold onto this motherly guilt that I was responsible for keeping them safe and I failed. Secondly, I have to let go of my anger. I am angry at myself, my Doctors, the hospital staff and even my husband & daughter. I find the anger bubbling up from time to time during my search for answers as to why my babies died. This anger has to go. Lastly, I have to let go of jealousy. It is an ugly emotion and it serves no purpose. However, every time I hear about the "royal baby", or see newborn photos on facebook, or hear another friend's pregnancy announcement I am filled with jealousy. I want to cry and shout that it should be me. I hate that I cannot find happiness in other people's joy.
I know that letting go of these heavy emotional burdens will not be accomplished quickly. It may not even happen this year. I know that letting go won't happen on it's own either, it will take work. Some days I am up to doing the work and getting past these negative feelings. Other days it is just too much and I let them wash over me. As the days and months go on I will press forward, keeping my goals in mind. Until I work on letting go my previous resolution of spending more quality time with family and friends cannot be attained. I cannot spend quality time with anyone until I am once again at peace.
One thing that I will not be letting go as part of my resolution is my sadness. It is not that I don't want to be happy. I do want happiness, but not if it comes a the price of forgetting my children. I have gotten much better with time. I spend more time smiling and laughing and less time mourning and crying. I do hope that the sadness never completely disappears. It is my reminder of Penelope & James. Every time a tear rolls down my cheek it is because of them and I cherish that. I have learned and I continue to learn to be a happy, functioning person again while still enmeshing that sadness of my son & daughter's death into my life. I will always feel an ache for them and I never want that ache to go away.
It is only the second day of this New Year. I feel both overwhelmed and excited by the possibilities that this year holds. By the end of this year my beautiful daughter will have her third birthday. Next month my husband and I will celebrate our fourth wedding anniversary. August will be the one year anniversary of Penelope and James' birth and death. I have a lot of things to look forward to this year and I hope that by the time I am making my resolutions for 2014 I will have made some great strides.
Monday, December 17, 2012
2013, A Year Without a Pregnancy
Recently I have had several people ask me when we are going to try to get pregnant again. I don't have an answer to that question. I do know that it will not be anytime soon. I think it's hard for someone to imagine losing a pregnancy and not wanting to try again right away. It is very hard to come home from the hospital with empty arms. There is nothing I want more than for my son and daughter to be with me. I also know that getting pregnant is not going to take away the pain of losing them. They can never be replaced. When someone loses a spouse, nobody asks them when they are going to get married again. We all know that a husband or wife can't be replaced. Why can't people understand that a child is also irreplaceable?
The past three years have very stressful on my body. I was pregnant with Gwenevere for most of 2010. I got pregnant again in September or 2011 and had a miscarriage and D&C in late November. I then became pregnant again in March of 2012 and delivered my twins prematurely in August. My poor body has hardly had a break! It's been four months since I gave birth to Penelope and James and I am finally starting to feel back to normal. I still have baby weight to lose and I wonder if my stomach will ever look the same, but I feel physically good. My body and my soul deserve a break.
I am actually looking forward to a year without pregnancy. No prenatal vitamins, no morning sickness, no fatigue, no heartburn, no pelvic exams, no anxiety over losing another baby, and a glass or two of wine whenever I feel like it. I can take some time to myself and my family and really focus on all the wonderful people in my life. I am so blessed to have a beautiful little girl that keeps me busy and reminds me what is really important in life. I have the best husband I could have ever wished for. He is supportive, understanding, caring and makes me laugh every day. My parents are amazing and they are there for me in every way. I have a loving sister that is more ambitious and strong that I could ever hope to be. Not to mention the incredible network of friends that I have surrounded myself with. I am so lucky to be showered with so much love and support and I can't wait to spend the next year enjoying my life.
I still don't know the answer to the question of when we will try to get pregnant again. I don't know when I will be emotionally ready to go down that road. I do know that it is not now, and I am at peace with that.
The past three years have very stressful on my body. I was pregnant with Gwenevere for most of 2010. I got pregnant again in September or 2011 and had a miscarriage and D&C in late November. I then became pregnant again in March of 2012 and delivered my twins prematurely in August. My poor body has hardly had a break! It's been four months since I gave birth to Penelope and James and I am finally starting to feel back to normal. I still have baby weight to lose and I wonder if my stomach will ever look the same, but I feel physically good. My body and my soul deserve a break.
I am actually looking forward to a year without pregnancy. No prenatal vitamins, no morning sickness, no fatigue, no heartburn, no pelvic exams, no anxiety over losing another baby, and a glass or two of wine whenever I feel like it. I can take some time to myself and my family and really focus on all the wonderful people in my life. I am so blessed to have a beautiful little girl that keeps me busy and reminds me what is really important in life. I have the best husband I could have ever wished for. He is supportive, understanding, caring and makes me laugh every day. My parents are amazing and they are there for me in every way. I have a loving sister that is more ambitious and strong that I could ever hope to be. Not to mention the incredible network of friends that I have surrounded myself with. I am so lucky to be showered with so much love and support and I can't wait to spend the next year enjoying my life.
I still don't know the answer to the question of when we will try to get pregnant again. I don't know when I will be emotionally ready to go down that road. I do know that it is not now, and I am at peace with that.
Tuesday, December 11, 2012
Fear
Since the day I watched my son and daughter die in the arms of their dad my perspective on mortality has shifted. I have always assumed that if you are pregnant and you make it into the second trimester you will have a healthy baby. Unfortunately, I now know this is not true. Not only from my own experience, but from many other parents that I have encountered on my journey. Sometimes children die. Sometimes they die during pregnancy, or at birth or even well into their life. I now understand that our children's lives cannot be taken for granted, ever.
This weekend I experienced the second most terrifying day of my life. After feeding my daughter a small handful of cashews I watched her break out in hives within minutes. I immediately knew something was wrong and my husband and I rushed to get her a dose of benedryl and head to the Urgent Care. Once we arrived there we sat in the waiting room. I watched Gwenevere as her hives continued to spread. I poked my head around the corner and told the staff we were having a food allergy emergency. They rushed us back and gave Gwenevere more benedryl and a dose of steroids. Her hives continued to spread. I watched as her ears became the color of tomatoes and her whole body got splotchy and puffy. I could see the concerned looks and the medical staff's faces and it was all I could do not to panic. I heard them talking about drawing up and epi-pen and calling 911, my stomach dropped.
A nurse came over and prepared a breathing treatment to give to Gwenevere while we waited for the ambulance to arrive. She calmly explained that the treatments they had available were not working and they wanted to transfer her to the hospital where they could do more to help. All I could think was that I have already had a funeral for my son and daughter, I couldn't lose my baby girl. I held her tightly on my lap and stroked her puffy face telling her everything would be okay.
The ambulance finally arrived and they placed my daughter on the stretcher. I had to ride in the front seat as I listened to her crying for her Mommy. Halfway to the hospital she went quiet and my stomach dropped again. I asked if everything was okay and they told me she had fallen asleep, the benedryl had taken affect. That twenty minute ride to the hospital was the longest car ride of my life.
We arrived at the hospital and the got us into a room right away. Micah found us and he kept reassuring me that she would be fine. My Mom arrived as well. She came in and asked how we were all doing. I broke down and cried. I couldn't lose my little girl, I had already gone through so much. The nurse was in the room getting Gwenevere set up on the oxygen monitor and putting her into a hospital gown. She told us that everything would be okay and I tried to believe her. As we sat in the room and waited for the Dr., Gwenevere's hives started to calm down. I breathed a sigh of relief. The nurse said that the medicine was working. By the time the Dr. came in to see us she was almost looking like her normal self. I knew we were through the worst of it.
That night I didn't sleep very well. At three in the morning I caved in and I scooped Gwenevere out of her crib and I brought her into the guest bedroom me. We slept there together for the rest of the night, although I kept checking her breathing. She woke up in the morning with a big smile on her face saying "snuggle, snuggle, snuggle". I couldn't believe what a trooper she was through this whole experience.
I know that most likely Gwenevere will live a wonderful healthy life and live well beyond my years. I still can't shake my fears that she won't. I want to do all that I can to protect her and keep her safe. But, I know that as she gets older she will have to explore on her own. She will have to make mistakes and learn from them. I won't always be around to keep her safe. I just have to hope that I will be the best parent I can be and teach her to make good choices. I am not in control of her life and that is one of the hardest realizations that I have come to. What I can do is make sure she knows every day how much I love her.
This weekend I experienced the second most terrifying day of my life. After feeding my daughter a small handful of cashews I watched her break out in hives within minutes. I immediately knew something was wrong and my husband and I rushed to get her a dose of benedryl and head to the Urgent Care. Once we arrived there we sat in the waiting room. I watched Gwenevere as her hives continued to spread. I poked my head around the corner and told the staff we were having a food allergy emergency. They rushed us back and gave Gwenevere more benedryl and a dose of steroids. Her hives continued to spread. I watched as her ears became the color of tomatoes and her whole body got splotchy and puffy. I could see the concerned looks and the medical staff's faces and it was all I could do not to panic. I heard them talking about drawing up and epi-pen and calling 911, my stomach dropped.
A nurse came over and prepared a breathing treatment to give to Gwenevere while we waited for the ambulance to arrive. She calmly explained that the treatments they had available were not working and they wanted to transfer her to the hospital where they could do more to help. All I could think was that I have already had a funeral for my son and daughter, I couldn't lose my baby girl. I held her tightly on my lap and stroked her puffy face telling her everything would be okay.
The ambulance finally arrived and they placed my daughter on the stretcher. I had to ride in the front seat as I listened to her crying for her Mommy. Halfway to the hospital she went quiet and my stomach dropped again. I asked if everything was okay and they told me she had fallen asleep, the benedryl had taken affect. That twenty minute ride to the hospital was the longest car ride of my life.
We arrived at the hospital and the got us into a room right away. Micah found us and he kept reassuring me that she would be fine. My Mom arrived as well. She came in and asked how we were all doing. I broke down and cried. I couldn't lose my little girl, I had already gone through so much. The nurse was in the room getting Gwenevere set up on the oxygen monitor and putting her into a hospital gown. She told us that everything would be okay and I tried to believe her. As we sat in the room and waited for the Dr., Gwenevere's hives started to calm down. I breathed a sigh of relief. The nurse said that the medicine was working. By the time the Dr. came in to see us she was almost looking like her normal self. I knew we were through the worst of it.
That night I didn't sleep very well. At three in the morning I caved in and I scooped Gwenevere out of her crib and I brought her into the guest bedroom me. We slept there together for the rest of the night, although I kept checking her breathing. She woke up in the morning with a big smile on her face saying "snuggle, snuggle, snuggle". I couldn't believe what a trooper she was through this whole experience.
I know that most likely Gwenevere will live a wonderful healthy life and live well beyond my years. I still can't shake my fears that she won't. I want to do all that I can to protect her and keep her safe. But, I know that as she gets older she will have to explore on her own. She will have to make mistakes and learn from them. I won't always be around to keep her safe. I just have to hope that I will be the best parent I can be and teach her to make good choices. I am not in control of her life and that is one of the hardest realizations that I have come to. What I can do is make sure she knows every day how much I love her.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)