Quote of the Day

So true!!  I never realized this until I had a son...but I lucked out anyway.  :)

Friends

Its hard sometimes, as parents, to not be family centered all the time.  Especially when your children are young.  Everything revolves around naps, runny noses, swim class, Tball, soccer, school, and family get togethers.  I have found that it has become more difficult for me to cultivate and maintain friendships.  Since my friends are all moms I know they don't blame me, and probably struggle as well, but it doesn't change the fact that I feel like MY life as a woman suffers somewhat because of it.

I have a friend who I have known for years...we played softball together as teenagers, went to junior college together, and even went on to EKU together, and were in the same sorority.  Our lives have continued to be woven together in some form or another through the years.  We were pregnant with our first at the same time, and gave birth only about 6 weeks apart.  She makes me laugh till I cry, and I just love her!

The very best part is that we are now great "couple" friends.  Nobody tells you that when you get married you will always be on the lookout for these kinds of friends.  You know the ones...where you and your spouse really enjoy and like BOTH people in the other duo.  It can sometimes be hard to find couples that each click with both you and your spouse.  But my friend and her hubby those kinds of friends.

We live in the same state (though about and hour apart now) and are always planning times to get together, but it rarely works out (read: runny noses, swim, family get togethers, etc) and so we only end up seeing each other probably 2-3 times a year.  Tonight is one of those nights.  We are meeting for dinner and bowling, and we are both more excited than such a night should warrant...probably because we never see each other, and don't get out without the kids much.  In fact, we realized that this will be the first time since we were pregnant that we got together "adults only"! I find this sort of tragic.

 While our kids are awesome, it is a struggle to have a full conversation when mommy duties are constantly calling.  So I vow to my friends to not talk (too much) about Logan tonight, to enjoy their company, and to be more vigilant in my friend duties, not only with her, but with all my wonderful friends, making more time for "adult only" outings.  We deserve them....I deserve them.  I need to remember that.

The Best, Worst Day of My Life: part IV

To be honest, after the Dr. left the room I had a full blown panic attack.  Not about the PPCM, but about not being able to have any more babies.  I know that sounds crazy, but I think that I was in full-on denial about the heart failure at that point. As the panic attack hit me, however, I quickly realized how my body was reacting, and it wasn't good.  I remember closing my eyes, so tired, but absolutely terrified to fall asleep.  I have never told anyone this, but in that moment, I felt sure I would not make it.  I was so tired, so weak, and I couldn't breathe. The only thing I could do was pray. Pray to God and beg him to not take me away from this little boy so new to the world. It broke my heart that he might never know who I was, might never remember the way I smell, or what my voice sounded like. And I know that everyone else was thinking the same thing, though none dared voice it. But I saw the fear in my husband's face, and my OB/GYN couldn't come into the room without my mom dragging him outside, demanding answers.  My oxygen level became the sole topic of conversation, especially at night, as the machine I was hooked to had an alarm that went off every time I fell asleep because I wasn't getting enough oxygen unless I consciously focused on my breathing.

It was a bleak couple of days. People were constantly coming in and out to visit me, including a family friend who brought me communion. I don't remember much else, since I was pretty out of it, but I remember the look of worry and pain on my husband's face as he spent his days alternating between being with me and going down to the maternity ward to see our son. In the beginning I was inconsolable, until the amazing nursing staff formed a plan and began pretty much sneaking the baby up to the ICU for 30 minutes at a time so I could feed and hold him  (I will NEVER forget that special gift they gave me).

(Logan and I in ICU)

With prayers, my family, and my baby lifting me up, I slowly began getting better.  The doctors were somewhat surprised about my turn around, and I was even able to go home on Christmas day!

I am happy to say that 4 years later, my EF is back up to 60% and I am considered fully recovered.  Even more importantly, new research suggests that subsequent pregnancies might be possible for women who fully recover.  It has been a long journey, full of questions about why this happened, and I don't know if my future will include another baby.  But I do know that I feel blessed to be around for my son, to see him growing up. And I know that no matter what, the Lord is watching over me.

The Best, Worst Day of My Life: part I

So, I have been putting off writing this post for several days.  I don't entirely know why, though part of the reason is that I feel like this story of mine is "all told out."  You see, for about a year after everything happened I feel like I spent most of my time telling people the story. Partly because everyone around me had heard bits and pieces and were curious and concerned. And partly because I was still trying to process it and, for me, talking about it helped.  (I am sure that those who were around me a lot got pretty sick and tired of hearing the story over and over as I told whoever hadn't yet heard, but they were always patient.)    :)

So, you see, I am tired of it, and telling it at this point mostly just makes it seem like a sob story.
However, recently I realized that my story is important.  I remembered that right after I got out of the hospital, I spent a lot of time online reading about what other women went through, and that those stories gave me hope and painted a MUCH brighter picture of my future than the doctors did. So I am going to share my journey again.  And I can only hope that, along with raising awareness, my story will give some other woman hope.  Because I am a PPCM survivor...

The Best, Worst Day of My Life: part II

I don't know if every pregnant woman feels this way, but I worried every day of my pregnancy.  I worried because it took 4 years to even get pregnant, and I felt a little like a jinx.  I stressed about everything I did...was this good for the baby?  Don't get me wrong, I LOVED being pregnant, but I had wanted it so badly for so long, I couldn't help but worry.

So when I got to see that little dimpled face for the first time as the Dr. held him over the sheet after my C-section, I was able to breathe a sigh of relief like nothing I had ever felt before.  Finally.  Finally I could relax, because I had this perfect baby and the waiting was over. It was all smooth sailing from now on, right?  So little did I know.

Let me back up a bit.  It was a fairly uneventful pregnancy.  I had pretty severe morning sickness and lost about 30 lbs before I ever gained, but after that felt great!  There was also a bout with kidney stones for which I had to be hospitalized about 2 weeks before I gave birth to Logan, but all in all....nothing bad, worrisome, dangerous happened. I did end up having a C-section, but even that went pretty much according to plan. Logan was born in the morning and by the afternoon I was actually feeling really good. Everything was like a dream. Here was my new baby boy, who was nursing like a champ. Despite the C-section, I was not in a lot of pain, and because section babies spend their first night in the nursery, I even got some sleep!  Now, what happened the next day is somewhat of a blur, to be honest, but I will try to write about it accurately.

 The next morning I was in the room with my baby and family, a bit tired but happy. The nurse came in and gave me the spiel about having to be able to use the restroom before I could go home. So I carefully got out of bed and she helped me to the restroom.  I suddenly began to feel dizzy, short of breath and lightheaded, but I automatically chalked it up to the pain from my incision. However, the nurse evidently saw something in my face she didn't like, because she immediately guided me back to bed and slapped a blood pressure cuff on me. She then proceeded to usher my extended family out of the room, while, at the same time, a group of about 6 doctors and nurses came rushing in. I remember panicking, not at the sight of all the staff, but because one nurse was telling me they were going to have to bottle feed my son, and not being able to tell her which formula I preferred because I had never even looked into anything other than breastfeeding. Then the baby was gone from the room, and I realized that something pretty serious was going on, and that I had absolutely no idea what it was.