Laughing with Sarah

Three months...and twelve days... (April 8, 2017) Four months (April 28, 2017) Once again, two months have flown by in the blink of an eye. All of the sudden, my little newborn is not so little anymore. Eleanor, you are bright-eyed, curious, emotive, sweet, smiley, easygoing, and feeling so much older than just your short four months on this earth. On the health front, you are doing great. At your four month check-up last week, you checked in as a long skinny baby who is pretty darn ahead of the curve when it comes to developmental milestones. It was nice to be at the doctor and have only good news. Earlier in March, you had a weird vomiting episode that sent us back up to the St. Mary's emergency department to get checked out. The good news is that everything was fine, inside-belly-wise (you tackled the repeat upper GI test like a pro!). The bad news is that you had sprouted an incisional hernia under your previous incision (a little soft lump poking out of your belly)...

When Eleanor was born, I was totally shocked that we'd had a girl, since I'd been convinced we were having a boy. As I was processing the happy news of our little girl, I had a strange thought: "Hm. Since it's a girl, she can't have hypospadias like Sam did, so yay for not having to worry about surgery in the first year of this new baby's life!" I'm pretty sure I said this out loud to Matt. I'm pretty sure I jinxed everything. Eleanor and I came home from the hospital on Saturday, December 31, just in time for New Year's. All was well. In her first few days home, she didn't so much love sleeping at night - hated being on her back, and was awake every 45 minutes or so, which meant a lot of bleary-eyed days for us parents, and at least a couple nights of sitting up with her and sleeping on the couch. But other than that, all was normal. We went in for a weight check on Monday, January 2, and she had gained a great amount of weight, and the ...

Because Owlet's c-section was a scheduled one, and because it was scheduled for December 27, the only way that I was going to spend Christmas with my family was if they all came here, which they did. My mom came in time for Christmas Eve, and then everybody else came in Christmas Day or the 26th. Christmas Eve was a lazy morning of breakfast out (per tradition), and then gearing up for three evening worship services. After the first of those three services, both of my legs blew up like balloons. It hit me, then and there, that despite all of my anxiety about the c-section procedure, I was so very ready to be done with this pregnancy. I was tired. My legs were puffy. I had crazy heartburn. I'd slept on the couch more nights than in my bed over the last couple weeks because I couldn't get comfortable. I drank lots of water the rest of the evening, and came home between services to put on pj's and put my feet up. I committed myself to sit through worship except when I ...

It's been a heck of a week and a half, so apologies for the tardiness of this post! Here are some pictures for you. 39 weeks - December 23, 2016 - My last regular weekly belly shot! December 27, 2016, 5:00 a.m. - The very last belly shot before heading to the hospital for baby day! December 27, 2016, 8:00 a.m. - Welcome to the world, Eleanor Ann! A cute, chubby-cheeked GIRL, born 8lbs 8oz and 21 inches long. Our beautiful sweetheart. December 27, late morning - Mama gets back from recovery and gets her first real snuggles with Eleanor December 27, evening - Sam gets to hang out with his baby sister. He is immediately smitten. Enjoy the pictures for now. There's a lot more to the story! Still to come are a write-up of Eleanor's birth story (boring for her, a little more exciting for me), and then an account of the last couple days, which have found us up at Mayo Clinic with a sick baby needing emergency surgery at a tender nine days old. We're still...

Here's the before and after shot from last Friday's egg retrieval. I love how the main difference in the two pictures is the presence of toast (or lack thereof). I guess this is your visual proof that my retrieval was uneventful and that I tolerated the sedation well. :) We left the house before 6:00 a.m., dropping Sam off at a friend's house (who would take him to daycare when it opened) on our way out. Our check-in time was 7:30 a.m. We got there just fine, checked in, and went up to the outpatient surgery floor, where I got all gowned up and IV-ed. We were all ready to go by about 8:20 a.m. And then we waited. And waited. And waited some more. Finally, around 9:30 a.m., they came to get me. I hopped up onto a wheely-bed, and they took me down to pre-surgery, where some nice nurses and a nice anesthesiologist all came to check in with me. And then more waiting. I was there about half an hour, during which time I did one of those "doze off and feel like I'm fal...

(To follow the whole story, begin here:  Tuesday, November 19 , Wednesday, November 20 ,  Thursday, November 21 , Friday, November 22 , Saturday, November 23 , Sunday, November 24 ) Monday was a lot of hurry up and wait. We had no plans to leave the hospital until the afternoon. The OB department was busy again, which meant busy nurses who weren't around a lot. My parents came over for a little bit, I took another shower, we worked through a lot of discharge paperwork, Jenine came to visit, Matt did a pharmacy run, I watched some Food Network, we learned how to give Samuel a bath, we had further conversations about Samuel's weight and formula supplementation, but my nurses also were convinced that my milk had started to come in and we were on the road back to exclusive breastfeeding. About 4pm, we dressed Samuel up in his going-home outfit, signed the last of the paperwork, cut off all of his (and my) bracelets and tags, and headed out! My parents had decorated the ki...

(To follow the whole story, begin here:  Tuesday, November 19 , Wednesday, November 20 ,  Thursday, November 21 , Friday, November 22 , Saturday, November 23 ) Sunday morning, I held onto Samuel after his morning feed. Dr. Locke stopped by to give me the good news that my hemoglobin was trending up, even if it was still low, and that he wasn't ordering any labs for me on Monday. I ate breakfast and watched some TV, and even shuffled around the room a tiny bit after they took my booties off. We had a surprise visit from a couple from church late morning, and then I got to do something awesome: take a shower. And not just that, but put on real clothes afterward. That was another step toward feeling human, like myself. Then Matt ran off to feed the cats and do a Culver's run (to escape another hospital meal...probably a bit of a mistake....). Then we snuggled in and watched football, and napped, and FaceTimed with Beth and Nick. After dinner, my parents returned (they are...

(To follow the whole story, begin here:  Tuesday, November 19 , Wednesday, November 20 ,  Thursday, November 21 , Friday, November 22 ) My family was around for a while on Saturday morning - kept me company while Matt went home to take a shower and grab a few odds and ends from home that we hadn't managed to get into our hospital bag. My favorite overnight nurse had been called in on Saturday because there were lots of deliveries and they were short-handed, so it was really great to see her again! All of my nurses were pretty great, but she was the one who took care of me during Wednesday night's induction, and every night after that. I felt a special bond with her. My family left late morning to head back to Chicago - Steph needed to get back to work and my parents needed to be at church on Sunday. Matt and I hung out in the afternoon, and Chad came over to meet the baby for the first time. I remember that I felt really groggy during his visit, which was frustrating b...

(To follow the whole story, begin here:  Tuesday, November 19 , Wednesday, November 20 ,  Thursday, November 21 ) Friday morning they did labs again, and found that while my liver enzymes were getting back to normal, my platelets still needed a little work, and, for no apparent reason, my hemoglobin had tanked. Dropped from 11 to 6.7. Disheartening to have yet another complication. Dr. Locke told me that they could - if need be - give me a unit or two of blood to help that number come up, but that the first thing to do was simply wait and see. As long as I was asymptomatic - not fainting or anything - there was no rush to do anything. He also told me that he was going to be out of town the rest of the day and most of the next day, which bummed me out more than it should have. Of course there were plenty of other doctors to take care of me, but I remember feeling a little anxious about his leaving. At about 8:00 - 24 hours after Samuel's birth - they took me off the magn...

I'm feeling restless and frustrated right now, in that way specific to people who are recovering from illness or injury. Because my head feels good and normal. I'm thinking like normal, most of my body feels like it should, and common sense tries to tell me that I've been sitting on my butt ALL DAY, and I really should DO SOMETHING PRODUCTIVE. Add to that the fact that since my procedure yesterday, I've been HUNGRY. I ate and ate and ate yesterday. And today, too. And the thing that stinks is that I've been working so hard to lose weight and get fit, and not only does all of the sitting around and eating make me feel gross, but the crazy bloating taking place because of the retrieval is making me feel even fatter and grosser, and the ONLY thing I want to do right now is go for a run... ...but if you were to watch me try to walk right now, you'd know that running is OUT. OF. THE. QUESTION. And so I'm a little mad that retrieval kicked my butt like...

Ready to go! (IV in right hand...sad band-aid on left hand...) Nope. Didn't keep up tracking my meds here this time. It was a quick cycle and I was busy. Having upped my dosages to speed things up, my estrogen level was up to 4000 by this past Tuesday morning, which (according to Dr. Google) is on the high side of normal. So this probably why my doctor had me trigger Tuesday night for a Thursday morning retrieval. Yesterday's retrieval went well. Well, mostly.  They had trouble getting my IV in, so yeah, that wasn't great. A nurse was digging around in my left hand and I am so surprised that I didn't faint. Yuck. But try two on my other hand went quickly and easily. I wore my lucky socks yesterday - socks that I had started knitting during our first IVF cycle but didn't finish - and the last thing I remember as I drifted off in the procedure room was explaining the socks after being complimented on them. I woke up easily and felt good but sore. ...

As I drove to work today, I caught myself thinking, "I feel like myself today!" Indeed, I am getting back to normal. I still get tired from a regular day full of activity, and I still have a stupid pinched nerve in my neck that is giving me headaches (literally), but really, I have turned a serious corner in my physical healing. But it turns out that having a broken, healing body is a nice emotional distraction. For this whole last week, I've been telling people, "I'm sure the other emotions will hit me later, but for now, I feel good that I am alive and well. And I am thankful to have answers." But as my body heals, it frees up space for me to feel more emotions. I think that the hardest part of this journey is on the verge of beginning. This morning, I started thinking about how expensive, invasive, and yet uncertain IVF really is. It's not fail-proof. It doesn't guarantee pregnancy. It is the hard way of achieving a chance result. A...

Feeling more and more like myself today. A tired, slow, low-energy version of myself, but a version of myself nonetheless. Yesterday was a hard day. I went back to work for the afternoon, and even though I think they were well-meaning questions from my fellow co-workers, I kept getting asked things like "You really aren't feeling better yet?" Today, I can try to interpret those questions as people really just being concerned. But yesterday, those questions felt 100% like guilt trips, as if I were being told that I should be fine, because laparoscopic surgery is "easy" and my dedication to my job should mean that I come back to work and gut it out because doing anything less would mean I'm not a team player. I'm in a slightly better place today than I was yesterday, when I put up an admittedly passive-aggressive Facebook status and spent ten minutes bawling my eyes out in my office. Today, I think I just wish things felt normal. I'm not sure...

After an initial few days of great progress in recovery, I hit a wall on Friday. Late Thursday night, I started getting a headache, which was no big deal. I took some painkillers, went to sleep, and expected to feel like myself in the morning. It took my by surprise on Friday morning, when I woke up feeling tired, groggy, headachy, and lacking all energy. I spent the rest of Friday battling a migraine that kicked my butt so hard that I pretty much had a panic attack at 1am because my head hurt, I felt dizzy, I felt nauseous, and I couldn't find anything that would make me feel better. That was my low point. Saturday felt better than Friday, mostly battling the dreaded migraine hangover, and my parents came over for dinner, and we had quite the lovely evening. And even though I was disappointed that I didn't feel good enough to go to church yesterday, I was proud of myself for spending more of my day sitting up than lying down. Throughout all of this, however, I'v...

There is, admittedly, a lot to process about the past few days' experience. Especially given that there is a lot left to process about these last few months and years. At some point, I'll probably recount my time in the hospital, and try to process my feelings about that experience. But for this morning, I think I just want to admit that as brave as I am trying to be about going forward with the new and limited options for us to start a family...I'm not feeling so brave this morning. I don't feel the same resentment as I've felt at other points; I am not struggling with the feelings of inadequacy from unexplained fertility. Now I just know my limitations. But they are BIG limitations. I am no longer in a group of people even able to pretend that we can have kids of our own, unassisted. Or even with small assistance. On the Today Show this morning, they were telling the story of a woman who, after having 11 (yes, 11!) kids, finally decided to go back to ...