Still haven't downloaded pics from Murfreesboro due to spring cleaning. It's been a great week for this and I've enjoyed it. I have to say that I have a ton of trash that needs to be carried off on the deck and a ton of other things I need to donate to Goodwill or Salvation Army. If the Salvation Army will pick it up, that's where it's going.
Hannah and Harry have been with mom all week and both got sick with sinus junk on Monday. Harrison did good after a couple of days, but Hannah is still sick. I have an appointment for her tomorrow morning, but she said she doubted she'll need to go so we'll see about that in the morning.
Anyway, other than my babes being sick it has been a productive week, I think. i am ready for them to return home. I've missed them!
Anonymous requested to hear about Harry's birth and start to life, so here it is....
I had an early morning appointment April 10, 2000. When I got there, my entire body was swelled up and my vision was as though i was looking at things under water. I had a splitting headache and felt miserable. Just six more weeks to go and I'd be better. Wait...six whole weeks? 'Fraid so.
I had only been in the examination room for a few minutes when the doctor came in. She shut the door, turned the light out, with the exception of a small lamp, and told me to lie down. I remember thinking, "Well, this is new."
She told me that my blood pressure was so high she didn't want me to move and that we were going to have a baby today. That two nurses were coming in to dress me and take me over to the hospital, which was attached to my OB office. So they dressed me, lifted me into a wheel chair, and off we went. My husband and older two children following behind me as I cried all the way to my room.
After several hours of monitoring, they put me in an ambulance and took me to Carolina Medical Center in Charlotte. When I got there, there were five doctors waiting for me, each with their own little staff of nurses.
Last I heard, my blood pressure had reached 271 over 248. I have no idea if it got higher than that and, quite frankly, I really don't want to know.
One by one, the doctors came in for an ultra sound and each one had the same disturbed look on their faces as they viewed the monitor. Their eyes would become increasingly larger and their neck would extend as though they were trying to figure out, just what in the world, they were looking at. That wasn't scary at all. (rolling eyes.)
To be honest, that's about all I remember, except when they first rolled me into my room, my daddy had already beat the ambulance there and was sitting in a chair in my room waiting for me and praying. I don't know for sure, but I'm guessing this was one time he took advantage of having a car with blue lights and sirens.
They had me on so many drugs I don't remember a whole lot of Harrison's birth except them waking me up every now and then to push. Bruce's face was the first one I'd see when I opened my eyes and he would always whisper he loved me before I would go back out.
When Harrison was finally born I did wake up and beg Bruce to follow him out. His lungs weren't fully developed yet and his little cry was so weak. But they wouldn't let Bruce back until they were finished doing what they had to do to him.
Six weeks early, and my preemie weighed more than I did when I was born on time. He was six pounds, nine ounces. If I had gone six more weeks, he would have been huge. He was the biggest baby in the NICU. I remember looking at him next to the tiniest little people I had ever seen and thinking what a miracle each and every one of them were!
For days my vision was horrible and, from what my mother, former pastor, and Bruce said, my face was pretty well distorted from the medications I was on. I couldn't see to make my way down the corridors from my room to the NICU. My mom was taking care of older two children, daddy had to work, Bruce had to work, and my in laws had gone on vacation a day or so after he was born. So, needless to say, I was by myself and no way to get to my baby without the help of bothering nurses, who were already short handed. Most days I would just lay in my bed and cry for him. I wanted to be with him so bad. I think that time in my life was the absolute loneliest time in my life. Bruce would come up in the evenings after working fourteen hour shifts and I would be so happy when he walked through that door to take me to see my baby.
The next hardest thing we had to do was leave our baby at the hospital and come home over forty-five minutes away from him. That was the quietest ride home and I think we both cried all the way as we held hands.
He had some really tough nights and turns. It was like a roller coaster ride. One day he would be doing marvelous and the next we would get a call that he had a bad time of something and they had to do "this" for him. It was scary and I still couldn't drive yet to get to him. Bruce was supervising and his time of leave wasn't up for a few more weeks. It was HORRIBLE! But then we got a call from the hospital and they wanted to see us. So we went up and they had moved him from NICU to another nursery. He was doing very good. We were happy. He looked wonderful laying there without all those tubes. It was nice to be able to pick him up without permission.
After several days there, we got another call that he was ready to come home. So while Bruce was working, mom drove me to the hospital and we picked up my baby boy to bring him home. I was thrilled to be sitting in the rocking chair facing the front door. When Bruce walked in, we were the first ones he saw and he smiled from ear to ear, knelt down beside us and we cried a little bit again.
By the way, I had lost fifty three pounds within three days after his birth. That's how much swelling I had. The troubled looks on the doctor's faces was because my placenta, which should have weighed, on average, four pounds, ended up weighing four times that. Yep, a whopping sixteen pounds. They had never seen that before. This was one of the reasons I had to have him naturally and they refused a C-section. They really weren't sure what it was. But it was completely covered in blood clots and calcium deposits. They were amazed that Harrison had survived as long as he did in the womb and that neither of us had died. God. was. good.
Around six months, I believe it was, he came down with the Rotovirus. For thirteen solid weeks, my baby lay lifeless on my chest. I thought he would surely die in my arms. I had him to the doctor several times and each time they told me to take him home and keep doing what I was doing. So I did. I would pump him with pedia lite to keep him from becoming dehydrated. I bought every flavor/color they had and alternated between feedings. No sooner would he begin to drink the orange flavored, his diaper would be filled with orange color. The same went with all the colors. It was crazy. Without him being sick, we went through forty-two diapers a week. During those thirteen weeks, he was going through approximately five times that much. We were changing his diaper every thirty minutes to an hour. He was such a sick little guy. But God saw him through that. He had literally spent thirteen weeks with me holding him in my arms, sitting in a chair. Then one morning, he looked up and just felt better. I was so glad that ordeal was finally over.
When he was in the hospital after he was born, there were some things they found and he did require surgery around eight months. This was another ordeal this mama could have done without. The thought of him going into surgery, for what he was going in for, was very frightening for me. It was a long several hours that day and I was never so glad to see him wake up and smile.
So Harrison's first year was a rough start. But he sure has made up for it, let me tell ya! What a character he is. God brought him through all these things that first year and I know He has something very special for Harrison. He's a special person and I can't wait to see what the future holds for my baby boy. Well, he's not much of a baby anymore. But you know what I mean.