God is good all the time!

As I sit here at the crack of dawn with a perfectly healthy 10 week old in my arms, I reflect on how remarkably God gives us all we need; even when we don't know enough to ask for it. I should have had a newborn this week and instead I have a 6-pound, two and a half-month old baby. In this small hour by hour and day by day world I currently reside in, I marvel at the miracle that for the first time I didn't have to pump at 3am but was able to breastfeed instead. 

Almost three months ago I found myself at a normal OB check up, having no idea anything was wrong and with my first baby in my arms, and in a moment I was told I would be admitted to the hospital and would be there until I had a baby. I immediately went into shock and all my practical instincts kicked in and I didn't take a moment to let this news sink in. But in that moment alone in a Dr's office with a big baby in my lap when I should have been scared and overwhelmed by this shocking news, all I felt was overwhelming peace, and I knew, unreasonably so, that it was going to all be just fine. Not for a second did I worry for my baby's safety,  I knew she would be small and could have many complications, but I knew it would all ultimately be perfect. That somehow all this was perfectly in Gods will and plan.

The next few days I hunkered down, not knowing if I might be in the hospital for days or weeks. So I waited. I was sick much of the time, but all the while feeling cared for. I knew that this might be a difficult valley to travel through, but the destination would be amazing. 

After a stable few days in the hospital with no changes, in an hour it all went south and I found myself on an operating table. Once again God provided spur on the moment care for our big baby and Brian made it with half hour to spare. 

And then I was in ICU before I knew it, told I had a healthy 3 pound girl and recovering remarkably well after some scary moments in the OR, and reading through baby name books. What a whirlwind, I was still in shock, I kept wondering why my baby was not kicking and I had to remind myself she was not in my womb anymore, but somewhere out of sight in an incubator. 

Then started what could have been the longest 36 hour wait of my life until I could visit my new baby, but even then I felt at peace. Her Daddy could be with her as much as he liked, and I needed to be cared for just as much as the new baby.  And I was at peace with that. Content to wait and start pumping milk for the tiny unnamed baby I saw in a photo that I was told was mine. 

This was all I knew of her those first 36 hours.

After some persuasion and some backward turns I was eventually taken off all my tubes and wires and allowed into a wheelchair to go see my baby for the first time. And the first time she was held by someone other than a nurse, it got to be by me. What perfect timing! 

My first view, and her little world those first weeks

The first time she was held

Then started a marathon, pumping eating, visiting baby in the NICU and repeat, and sometimes getting a little sleep.  She needed just a little help breathing and staying warm, but we were blessed with the health she had.  There was so much potential for complications that she did not have. 

A few days later they kicked me out of the hospital and I had to go home to my big baby and leave my other at the hospital. It didn't feel real, we were home just as before, yet again I had to remind myself I was no longer pregnant, and of course kept eternally pumping. 

Then started the daily grind of treks to the hospital. How was she today, did she need as much O2 as yesterday, is she eating more, is she staying as warm, did she have a good nurse last night, was it the one that knows she likes weight on her to sleep securely, and she likes to be on her tummy. Then you walk through the hallway wondering what you will find, you spend an eternal 2 minuets washing your hands, and then you see her, right were you left her safe and secure, not only with these capable nurses but right there in God's hands, the hands that held her when you were not able, when you waited 36 hours to meet her, when you saw her for the first time at that 20 week ultrasound, when you heard that heartbeat for the first time, when you saw the stick turned blue, and even when the first two sticks did not turn blue but you just somehow knew, there was a life starting, He held her, and He holds her still. 

First time holding sister, on her way home, just over 4 weeks old, 4.4 pounds

For all you who want the medical details I will give you the highlights. 

When I went to the Dr that morning (March 1st) after having relativity low, or acceptable BP's and having taken a fine reading at home the night before, my number was very elevated. Also after having perfect urine every check up, this day my protein levels were off the chart, too high for the in office dip stick to read. The Dr called a high risk pregnancy expert and he was told to check my reflexes to see if my brain was swelling and they were hyper-reflexive. All of this gave me a diagnoses of severe preeclampsia. There is no curing it other than delivering the baby, but they can wait and watch to see if they can give baby a little more time, to grow. This can last months if they are lucky. Meanwhile they make sure to keep your BP at a level to be sure you don't stroke out. They also constantly check for organ failure. My organs were far from perfect but were staying consistent and not getting worse, so they waiting and kept checking, they played back and forth with BP medication, a few times it went too low and then too high and they had to give me lots of IV medication that made me sick in order to try to keep it within an acceptable level. 

Three days later my BP started creeping up, but mostly my organs started getting worse. The downward spiral had started and they were unable to buy any more time. They did give me just enough days to get the steroids in me needed to help baby's lungs develop more quickly. 

In the OR they had a hard time keeping my BP steady, giving me medication to bring it down, and then it came down to far and had to give me more medication to bring it back up, meanwhile they gave me an arterial line to get a constant read on the BP, which is what landed me in ICU recovery.

I will post another day on babies health.

She has arrived!

Eleanor Elizabeth Graham was born June 7th at 9:30 PM. She weighed in at 6lb 12oz and 20 inches long. She was 36 weeks and 2 days along and therefore a month early.

For those of you who are wondering about all the details I am going to put them here. If you don't care how she was made it out into this world feel free to enjoy the photos and skip all the details!

Just after they told me this was it! 42 inches, 36 weeks and 3 days

In recovery, 30 min old

Grandma got to hold her first

Granddad said a blessing over her, still with no name at this point 

Her first hat the nursery put on her

First morning 12 hours old

Daddy taking the early morning shift

A bit the worse for wear, looking much better now!

The night nurse made this for her while she was in the nursery her second night after she was named. 

Going home!

Home safe and sound, meeting the cat!

If you are baby crazy enough to want to see every picture taken of her, click here

3 Week old Update!

Now its been three weeks, I was feeling well after 2 weeks and this caught a bug and am just now getting back after that. But today was my first day with no pain killers and I was up and in town all day long, and still have enough energy to write this! So great improvements. Eleanor has proven to have a great disposition, she has a good set up lungs but only uses them if she hurts, and then not often. She is very easy so far, and very content, and goes with the flow. She is 7lbs and 6oz today on her 3 week mark with her due date still 5 days away. She was down in weight to just 6lbs even at 4 days old, so she put that weight back on up to 7 lbs by her 2 week check up and now keep gaining. She eats very well, and is starting to sleep 6 hours at a time.

The birth details

Sunday June 5th I started feeling some symptoms of high blood pressure which can be very dangerous, seeing spots etc. So Sunday night I e-mailed my Dr and asked if she wanted to see me sooner than my Tuesday apt. She called Monday morning and I was sleeping and had my phone off, so she called Brian at work and told him I needed to go to the hospital right now. So thankfully my parents were home so Mum woke me up and we went directly there. This was the third time I had been sent to the hospital for the high BP and each time before I had been sent home the same day when my BP lowered with rest.
This time they did the same tests for preeclampsia they had been doing for weeks and this time they did show abnormalities where they had always been normal before. At this point after just a few hours I was told this was it. At this point my kidneys were showing some signs of not functioning well and as the baby was far enough along to be delivered safely it was time to deliver her to save my body any more stress from the pregnancy.
At this point they started me on magnesium citrate drip to prevent stroke or seizures which can be caused from the high blood pressure. This is a important but miserable drug that makes you flushed and groggy, and feel flu like symptoms. I was on it continually for the next three days. That afternoon Brian came with his bag packed for the week, and stayed that night with me. I was given something that evening for overnight to soften my cervix in preparation for being induced the next morning. We did our best to sleep which is very hard with an IV in one hand and a BP cuff on the other, and a nursing coming in hourly to check the IV bags etc. Not to mention the baby monitors strapped to my belly. But I digress and should not complain as it all kept us both safe.
The next morning this is Tuesday the 7th, I was started on pitocin, to induce labor, they started slow and upped the amount every half hour. At around noon I was starting to have contractions on the monitor but did not feel them yet, and was maybe 2cm dilated. By about 4 that afternoon I started contracting very regularly and well, and had the epidural as they started to come very quickly, each was twice and intense as the last and about a min apart. The contractors were good but they baby would not settle down low and I was not dilating.
Through all of this, and every hospital visit I had had up to this point the baby's heart rate had been "ideal". At about 8 that evening the Dr came back in and checked and I was still just 4 cm with good hard contractions every min, and told us that for the last hour the baby's heart rate was not where they liked to see it. As she had been so predictably great up until now and with the slow dilating it was going to be some time yet, and she recommended a c-section to be sure the baby would be safe. My Dr up to this point had been very good about doing only what was really needed and nothing more and I knew she was trying to avoid a c-section at all costs so for her to bring it up I knew she had good reason and we agreed. From then on it was a blur of activity with the anesthesiologist coming it and lots of prep and they had me in the OR by 8:50 I think. They got me all prepped and then let Brian in. Who I have to add here looks very nice in scrubs, he might have missed his calling! Its a very good look for him and I realize now we didn't get one picture of him! He held my hand and watched as they pulled her out of me, and got to see her right away, they weighed her and wiped her down and he brought her over for me to see. I was so groggy and out of it I didn't see much. He went with her to the nursery to be sure all was well, but the Dr in the OR said she was perfect and I think she scored a 8 out of 10 in the first min infant test they do for all newborns, and 9 at the 5 min mark, not bad for one month early. The nurse her had her first said a few min after she was born that she had a lovely disposition. We heard that many more times from many nurses before we left. There was also comments that Brian couldn't be a first time Dad because he help her so naturally and without the fear most new dads show.
They patched me up while I was still out of it, and Brian was with the baby and brought me out to recovery where Mum was able to be, Helen was able to go with Brian to the nursery. Not to long later once I was settled in recovery Brian was able to bring the baby back to be to hold and nurse for a hour, everybody got to be there, and see her during that first hour. Then the Grandparents headed to our house and I was moved to a room.
The next morning we talked about names and finally agreed on Eleanor, which was very easy in the end, it was just right, even though it was not the name we thought we would use. She was just the perfect baby right away, hardly cried that first 48 hours, we had the three grandparents around much of the first few days and Brian never left. I love the picture of his sleeping with her on the cot in the room the first day. We went home Saturday morning, things healed well and baby starting to eat well. The Dr said it was a textbook surgery, and everything went perfectly.