Life in the NICU

Have you ever watched your baby stop breathing and seen him turn purple? I have. But, oddly, it wasn't scary. It wasn't anything. At first I wanted to run from the room and never come back but after a few minutes I calmed down. And then I wasn't scared. I wasn't sad. I wasn't mad or glad or plaid. I was just numb.

Ever since Josh stopped breathing - twice - and they had to work to bring him back - twice - I have felt nothing. Seriously. Nothing. I have gone through the motions of some stuff - being excited when something goes well; looking concerned when they tell us he might have a new issue. But I really just don't feel anything. 

At first I thought it was a defense mechanism. I thought Cowboy Debbie was riding strong. But I don't think that's it. Honestly, my first reaction yesterday was to cry. But my eyes are tired of crying. I think I heard one of my tear ducts sigh when I started to well up. So I stopped. And went to feeling numb. It was just easier. 

A family member messaged me on FB and told me of his experience in the NICU when his daughter was born and had to stay in the NICU for a few months. He said a lot of really helpful things, but one thing really struck a chord with me: He was afraid to get attached to his little girl because it felt like at any moment she could be taken away. 

As I read that, I realized that is the only thing I do feel these days: Fear. I am afraid to get attached to Joshua. I love him with all of my heart. But I am afraid to lose him and so I am numb. It seems like all it would take is one alarm, one infection, one bad x-ray and he'd be gone forever. I hate that. I hate it so much but I don't know what to do about it. Yesterday I noticed that his little upper lip has a very unique shape to it. It was so cute. But I hate that I noticed it because if the worst does happen, it would be just one more thing I would miss. 

We have no reason to believe that Josh won't make it through all of this and come home with us at the end of May. He's had a lot of setbacks this week but he is still doing pretty well overall. He's just so fragile. And I am fragile. And it's too hard to be attached to him. 

I don't know what that says about me. I'm sure the local PTA is on its way to my house to present my Mother of the Year award. I don't feel gloomy or down or sad or stressed. I can't. It's kind of a relief, even though I know that isn't the best thing for me or for Josh. But that's where I am. That's life in the NICU. 

Sorry, Mom. This one was a bummer. Have a picture of Josh to make up for it. 

Everything I never knew about babies

Daniel has a general knowledge of just about everything. The Bible, history, mechanics, television - he knows a lot.

I, on the other hand, live my life in a land where unicorns and Pop Tarts reign supreme. Sure, I don't know who my Senator is (I totally do), but I can find you pictures of six cute cats in thirty seconds or less.

So it didn't surprise me to find out that I didn't know a ton about babies, either. When my nephew was born, I discovered all sorts of things. I would share them with you, but I don't want to be on DFACS' radar before my baby is even born. Let's just say I didn't know much about babies. Daniel knows a lot about them, so our kid still has a good chance of eating every day and going to school and whatever else children do.

I am still learning about babies. I have, however, learned some interesting things about pregnancy. These revelations aren't "scientific" or "medical" or "useful" but if I had realized just how true they were, I would have prepared myself more for them. You want to know what they are, don't you. Come onnnn. Say yes. Say it. Say it say it say it say it say it.

Okay, I'm just going to pretend you said it. Here we go!

1) Pregnancy makes you stupid.  You may not know this, but I totally have a super power: I can remember anything. Birthdays? Check. Anniversaries? Done. Random facts about guns and the history of guns? I'm on FIRE.

But not anymore. Now I'm stupid. Stupid is a harsh word. But I cannot think of another way to describe my brain when I am at the post office, trying my hardest to remember my address and telling the nice USPS lady that I could just drive down the street and look at my mailbox really quick. My mom gave me a notebook to write things down so I would remember them. I have no idea where it is. Sorry, Mom. I teach children's church at my church and called at least 3 kids by the wrong name last week. They kind of just went with it. They also wear name tags, by the way.

So be ye warned, potentially pregnant ladies. It is serious business. Get a notebook. And Velcro it to your shirt.

2) Lettuce is the enemy. McDonald's is my friend. I can no longer eat lettuce. Not sure why lettuce specifically has given me that lovely feeling that I am about to barf at any moment. But it does. I avoided Taco Bell for a while because of all the lettuce. I avoided Taco Bell. Then Daniel pointed out that I should just get my taco without lettuce. I told you he was smart.

McDonald's, on the other hand, is my new best friend. I do not go to McDonald's. Ever. Before these last few months I had gone to McDonald's maybe 5 times in the last ten years. I don't like it. But now I love it. I kind of want to marry it. Except I'm already married. But I think Daniel would let me bring McDonald's into our marriage. He likes it, too. We could all be so happy together.

Ahem. Anyway. McDonald's is awesome.

3) Everyone and their mother has a medical degree. Apparently. I had heard that people were incredibly rude and nosy to pregnant women. Not on purpose, of course (I hope), but it was still an issue. And maybe I didn't believe it was that bad. I'm here to tell you - it is that bad.

Random strangers have told me which veggies to eat, to lose weight, to make sure I take a swimming class so my baby will know how to swim. Yeah. That last one really confused me, too. The Quizno's lady keeps telling me horror stories about parents dropping babies or forgetting to feed them. And once a child at Babies R Us asked if I was pregnant. I mean, yes, I am. But we all know you don't ask. Never too early to learn, right, Johnny? Oh, stop crying; I didn't pinch you that hard.

Believe it or not, strangers are the easiest ones to deal with. I can get all Southern on them and say something polite that on the surface makes me sound so gracious but that really means they have .2 seconds to back. the heck. up. before I go crazy ninja on them. It's the people that I see on a regular basis that really drive me nuts. I have had people email me about how much I am hurting my baby by drinking Diet Coke. One person told me that my highlights have likely damaged my baby forever.

If you are one of those people... sorry. It's better you know this now. We're still friends. It's cool. But how about we all abide by this one rule, m'kay? If you don't have some kind of medical training or degree, I don't want to hear it. 

**There is obviously the exception of other pregnant women and/or mothers that I am friends with. Please give me all of your advice and I will make you a cake. HELP ME.**

The rest of you, go use that eager, helping spirit to build a house for the poor or donate some toys for Christmas. Learn to weave baskets, take up knitting, apply to clown school and buy a red nose - just no. more. advice. My own mother-in-law is actually a real live nurse and I have yet to hear from her about all the terrible things I am doing during my pregnancy. So rest assured that I have medical staff on hand who are measuring my Diet Coke intake by the ounce.

This post seems mean now. Maybe I shouldn't post it. Eh, who I am kidding. But here - have six cute kittens to make you happy again.

Hello

Last year I decided to post while on Lortab - I am nothing if not a good decision-maker.

I'm sorry to say I fell off the wagon again. On Saturday night my back muscles began to spasm, leaving me in tears and everlasting sorrow. Also a lot of whining. I went to the doctor and he gave me a happy muscle relaxer. You'd think I'd be familiar with every narcotic out there considering my family's recent history. Alas, no.

Hey, I just used the word alas while on a muscle relaxer. Look at me go.

ANYway, I thought I would bring you another drug-induced post so you can show it to your children to warn them away from doing drugs and/or spasming their muscles. No idea if spasming is a word. If it is, you have to bring me a cookie. If it isn't, you have to bring me a cookie. I don't care about the word as long as I get a cookie out of it.

Recently I was going through old pictures on my phone and found some fun things, including documentation of my dad's burgeoning stripper career.  I have continued my quest of clearing out my phone and stumbled across a few other great items. For instance...

'allo.

That is my cat, Batman. In the words of Ferris Bueller, he is a righteous dude. Except for every picture I have of him makes him look like he is possessed by Satan and/or Michael Jackson. This is one of many attempts to take a nice picture so I can complete my status as crazy cat lady and put a picture of my pets on my wall. Maybe if I put it next to a picture of Nick Nolte this photo won't look so shocking. 

Don't worry - this one wasn't in my phone.

Another great picture I found in my phone was this one:

A couple of weeks ago, I got an email from the future. It was sent to me on August 31st at 12:03 pm, but said September 1st instead. It was weird. And for a few minutes my mind ran through all of the possibilities that some time-traveling terrorist was sending me scary messages that contained things like, "At this time tomorrow someone will jump out and scare you. Also they will spill syrup on you and you will not be able to get it off for days. Muahahaaaaa." I was ready to send this picture to the police and request protection.

But this message was blank and Daniel pointed out it was either from a different time zone or their computer was just messed up. He is such a killjoy. But he so cute I don't even care. 

And the very favorite picture I found so far was one that not only sums up mine and Daniel's personalities, but our friendships and marriage as well. Enjoy. 

"Join us."

An Open Letter to NBC - 11Alive

Dear 11Alive News, 

I don't always watch the Olympic Games. The last time the summer games were on, I was still in school and only caught the radio highlights about some swimmer named Phelps. Never really heard what happened to him. Kidding. Only the dead and/or extremely inebriated wouldn't know what happened to Michael Phelps. But I digress.

This time around, it was different. I was married. (Still am... just wanted to clarify.) And that meant that I had to accommodate my Olympic-loving husband, who turned on the TV every night promptly at 7:00p to see what medals would be won today. And I found myself getting sucked in. The swimming! The diving! The GYMNASTICS! Oh, the gymnastics. How I love them so.

So you can imagine my disappointment when I went to my sister-in-law's house to watch her recording of the gymnastic finals and before the competition even aired, you had a commercial showing a member of the <OMITTED TO PROTECT THOSE WHO ARE WAITING TO FIND OUT> team holding a gold medal and smiling. 

What. the. heck. Why would you do that? Why? I ASKED YOU A QUESTION, NBC (In fact, I asked you this question on your Facebook page, but my post mysteriously disappeared...). Do you hate us? Have your viewers wronged you in some fashion, causing you to put together an evil plan in which you systematically ruin each sport just before it airs? 

I don't know if you're aware, but the majority of us work. Those who aren't at an office all day are raising children, educating themselves, making a coaster because they love arts and crafts but don't feel comfortable trying something too complicated, and besides, who doesn't love a coaster? and do not have access to your coverage during the day. So we come home, we turn on the TV, we watch your stupid "We are alive here" commercials and just when we have finished popping the popcorn and preparing for the stress of watching grown men dance on a springy mat, you tell us who won. You suck, 11Alive. 

And maybe consider showing some teams besides the US once in a while. I am as patriotic as anyone but I would like to at least catch a glimpse of other countries every couple of hours. Were any other countries even in the Olympics this year? We may never know.

Also, I was unfortunate enough to catch some of the "Anchors Gone Wild" segment this morning. Are you freaking kidding me with this? You think people don't hate us enough without watching American anchors run around England, acting like you have been given a day pass from the mental institution and/or escaped while the Queen is forced to ride with you on the double-decker buses, admirably restraining herself from slapping you every time you say "IT'S A BUS WITH TWO LAYERS!!!!!!"?? If this is the future of news, I am frightened. 

So quit it. I'll give you until the end of the week. Then I'm coming down there. Oh, and I have a suggestion for covering the next summer Olympics: Don't cover the next summer Olympics. 

Sincerely, 

Kristen 

P.S. The peacock logo is stupid. Change it. 

"NBC: Coverage before you even know you want it."

And Then There Was Limb

Yesterday at approximately 8:40 pm I stumbled upon a scene that led me into the seedy world of arborists and foliage. I was outside, innocently waiting for my dog to finish conducting business with the lawn, when I stumbled upon this horrific sight. Be warned - this image is not for the faint of heart.

That, my pretties, is a tree limb. I know. I am still getting over the shock. It was laying on our fence, gasping for life, hanging on to the threads of leafy goodness. We did what we could, but it was too late. 

But Leroy the Limb will get justice. My crack team and I have done some initial research into this issue and have put together a list of likely suspects:

Suspect #1: The Neighbor's Tree

Ah, yes. A tree of unknown background, swaying carelessly in the wind. Is its carelessness due to its innocence? Or is it because it knows we'll never get enough evidence to prove its guilt? There is a broken off limb on this tree, but it is conveniently too high to investigate at this time. Well-played, tree. Well-played.

Suspect #2: Our Tree

A tree of three trunks, this particular tree already has some scars from previous incidents. It sits with arrogance, daring someone to cut it down - what does it care; it has two extra trunks. The perfect candidate to cover up a heinous crime.

Suspect #3: Michigan

Like this one needs any more explanation. 

So, who was it? The Neighbor's Tree with the missing limb? Our Tree, with its arrogant extra trunks and bad attitude? Our dog, who generally causes destruction everywhere he goes?

Stay tuned as we delve deep into the world of trees, plants, and justice.