Wednesday, September 17, 2014

Oliver Graham Black

Oh Oliver.  You came into our lives, the very first minute I knew about you, as a complete surprise and you have continued to keep us on our toes ever since.  Placenta Previa was a thought at 20 weeks.  At 28 weeks I had my first scare.  Then more and more.  Bed rest.  Hospital stays.  Followed by more bed rest.  Thankful for friends and family who have saved us and cared for our babies.  I didn't want to have a C section, but apparently, that's what has to happen in these cases.  So I was scheduled for September 29.  It seemed SO SOON.  Your due date was October 27.  I was going to lobby for at least one more week of keeping you inside.  36 weeks was just too early.

And then it happened.  The scariest night of my life.  Ambulance rides.  Fear.  Hoping Griffin didn't wake up to the ambulance and fire truck and mommy being carried out on a stretcher.  A scary ride.  would you be ok?  Would I be ok?  would they EVER FIND MY FREAKIN VEINS?  Seriously, they stuck me 8 times before being able to do that.  My dr came and said there was no reason to chance prolonging anything.  It wasn't safe for me.  It wasn't safe for you.  Today was the day.  SO I waited and waited.  I was prepped for the C section.  My heart rate dropped to almost nothing.  They brought me back and within minutes I heard your tiny tiny baby kitten cry.  This is not to say that it wasn't loud, because it was.  I cried tears of joy and thanksgiving because you were crying.  Because I knew you were there and alive.  (now give me my damn baby.)  And they couldn't.  You peed all over the nurses three times.  (good one, bud.)  I kissed your sweet face.  I marveled at how you looked like your brothers. I marveled at how you were the tiniest piece of perfection I had ever seen.  Then you were whisked away.  I was left to sit and listen to Dr's talk about their personal lives and sit quietly and wonder about you.  To long for you.  To be in fear for you.

I was sent off to recovery alone.  Itchy and alone.  So itchy.  Thanks pain meds.  Kidding, I wouldn't have made it without you.  Kiss kiss.

Time frames get a little jumbled here... I saw you in the NICU after I had been checked into my room.  After I pumped?  Maybe?  I'm not sure.  They let me hold you for one second.

On September 10, 2014 you were born at 33 weeks and 4 days.  You weighed 4 lbs and 7 oz when you were born.  You were 17 and 3/4 inches.  You were screaming at 10:38 am.

I just wanted you.  I want you.  I want to hold you when I want and kiss you when I want and love on you when I want.  You have been doing great.  You are off of oxygen.  You are off the bili lights.  You are now off of the IV.  We have gotten to nurse 4x.  you are learning with a bottle.  I pump like mad.  (because lets be real... milk production is all I have going for me.)  I want you home.  I get to hold you at noon and 3 and 9.

You, my baby, are a tiny miracle who continually keeps us on our toes.  You are a perfect blend of your brothers.  You have hair.  Brown and maybe curly?  It's also receding.  It's a great look on your tiny head.  You make the best faces.  I go before our touch times to the NICU and watch you sleep every day.  I don't mind hearing you cry.  It's the cutest sound.  You love to hold hands.  It immediately calms you.  During our skin to skin you snuggle me so contently.  I think you'd stay there for hours, but the nurses take you away at some point and I have to stand up at some point.

Mama's have a need for their babies.  This mama has a need for her baby.  I have to get a room ready.  I have clothes waiting on you to come home.  You have brothers who cannot wait to see you.  One who desperately wants to hold you and see you... the other one just pats on my belly and says, "Baby?"  (no meyer, now I'm just fat.)  But this post isn't about me, really.  That's for another time.

You are so sweet.  You have the chin dimple that seals you to our family.  You complete us.

Oliver Graham.  Ollie G.  The OG.  Biggie Smalls.  We love you with all we have to love.  We hoped for a tiny  miracle and you, my baby, are making it happen.  More pictures to come.  Be prepared.  We think you're kind of amazing.




































Tuesday, August 26, 2014

The Giz.


Gizmo.  Gizmo has been gone for one week.  I didn't get the door closed and he got out.

Gizmo had 9 lives.  I adopted Giz in 2002 when I moved to Atlanta for grad school.  I moved into an apartment by myself and NEEDED a dog.  I found him on the internet and I wanted him.  That dog.  They had him named Danny.  That's a ridiculous name for this dog.  He had been turned into the rescue 2x before I adopted him.  One person was keeping him in a cage like 18 hours a day and another person had an elderly parent move in and bring elderly dogs and lets face it--giz is kind of an ass.  Lets be honest... he was probably pissed if they were calling him Danny.

Gizmo became my dog.  He flew with me.  Traveled with me.  Would jump up on tables while you were gone.  Wanted to be with you 24-7.  By "you" I mean "me."  He loved popcorn.  He had the highest pitch screeching bark I have ever heard.  Ever.

Giz had some sort of terrible doggie leukemia (Immune Mediated Hemolytic Anemia.)  Aka, he had to go to dog ICU.  Twice.  For a couple of weeks.  This place had visiting hours.  It cost a million dollars.  He stole my trip to Italy.  But it was ok, because he made it.  I would never ever do this for another animal, but then again, I doubt I will ever love another one as much as I did the Gizzard.

We loved him.  We desperately miss him.  ALL of us.  Griffin keeps asking if he is coming back or if he has gone to doggie Houston (heaven).  Meyer occasionally in a high pitch voice says "WOO WOO WOO" which is his immitation of Gizmo's bark.  Breaks my heart to know he is gone and even more that it was my fault.  My 12 pound elderly dog didn't need to get out.  I pray that someone has picked him up, carries him in a baby carrier as I think he'd love, hand feeds him, and has taken him to an all inclusive adults only resort.  He doesn't love the kids.  To be honest, I hope that he is somewhere planning to take over the world.

Giz.  Gizmo.  Gizzimoto.  Gizard.  Screech.  Ta-ta.  Evil ruler.

We love you and we miss you and we will never love another quite as much.

Monday, August 11, 2014

stay-cay in the atx.

Ben and I had a staycay in Austin prior to the hospitalization business.  We had been thinking and thinking about a little trip.  We will be postponing our 10 year anniversary trip (due to baby) and so wanted to do something.  So we went while G was on the beach trip with my fam we had ben's parents come and keep Meyer.  We stayed downtown.  We ate.  We walked.  A lot.  We kayaked.  We slept.  Ben napped.  We went to bed relatively early.  It was glory.  I always love when we have get aways.  Reminds me that we have fun. And that I like to sleep.


Meyer Meyer Pants on Fire. 16 and 17 months.

You continue to grow cuter and cuter and funnier.  Your gap tooth smile is about the sweetest thing I've seen.  You want to do everything and anything your brother does.  You have a temper.  You hit.  You want to be held.  You have a new fake cry.  It's hilarious and sad.  You, until yesterday, had a mullet again.  Amazing because you don't have much hair.  What you do have is super duper blonde.  Any time you see my phone you start saying "CHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE" for your picture to be taken.  You like to hear Siri.  You love to call your bubba.  You hold up your hands in a "where did it go" fashion and I love it.  You still love balls.  You'd like to hold one while eating.  You like to hide them.  You like going up stairs.  You LOVE taking a bath.  Your cheeks are the most smoochiest.  You constantly have dirt in your neck folds.  It's a good thing you like a bath.  You also despise having your face wiped after eating.  You love to go to bed.  You'd like to go to bed at 5:30.  We don't let you.  We put you off for at least an hour.  You don't really want to snuggle, but I do make you.  You give kisses.  They are the sweetest and the wettest.  You love to be held.  You love to sit on Maggie.  grab her face.  You like to put your finger in your dad's beer (or cocktail.)  I keep waiting for a yuck face, but you don't give them.

Basically, my dear, you are adorable.  You are a dancer.  You are so cute.  So loveable.  We sure do love you.


A little Oliver Graham drama.

So, we knew for a while that my placenta wasn't attached in the best place.  However, we had HIGH HOPES that as I grew and Ollie G grew that it would move.  Unfortunately, it hasn't.  I have what is called placenta previa (I refuse to google research this.  My sister did tell me that my risk was increased if I did a lot of coke.)

Basically, my placenta is partially covering my cervix which means I will have to have a C Section.  I do not want this.  But, it is what it is.  What happens is also that randomly you bleed.  I woke up a few weeks ago in blood.  Check into the hospital.  They monitored me for 2 days.  OG's heart beat stayed strong.  I didn't have any contractions.  I was sent home on bed rest.  Some of that bed rest was lifted--I could pick up my kids.  Then, it happened again.  Back in the hospital for 2 days for monitoring.  Heart rate strong.  Some "irritable uterus".  No contractions.  Strict bed rest.

How do you do this?  I have two small children.  I am home with them.  How does one tell a one and four year old that you can't pick them up?  Tha tyou can't go play?  That you can't go to the pool?  or anything you usually do?

Thankfully, my husband is amazing.  My mom has come twice.  So generous.  My sister.  My friend Deana.  My friend Katie who brought me food.  My friend Cate who sent the BEST "get well" package--ever.  It had a book.  Shower wipes.  Dry shampoo.  lip gloss.  an arts and crafts project.  AND CHOCOLATE.  I'm sure I'm missing something.  It was so so kind.

So that is the update.  I'm sitting around waiting for this to happen again, and hoping that it doesn't.  I want him to stay in as long as possible.  I don't want to go back to the hospital until this baby is born.  The next time I have another "episode" I'm in for good.  Lets avoid that.  Because though I don't love having a needle in my arm 24-7, sleeping in a hospital bed, being away from my family (terrible), I want this baby to grow grow grow.  stay stay stay.  thrive thrive thrive.

So that's that.  He's trying to one up Meyer's drama of jaundice, extreme spit up for a year, a visit to the children's hospital, and helmet head.  Touche.