Medela Symphony - Accept No Substitutes

Dear Medela Symphony 02 Breastpump,

You just left yesterday and I feel like I didn't get enough time to say goodbye. Sure, we had some differences. Like night after night where you made me get up every two hours at 20 minutes a shot. The prune fingers from the constant cleaning and washing of the pump pieces. The fact that my insurance would only cover you for one month.

But honestly, I couldn't have done it without you. With my premature son in the NICU, you gave me some control in an out of control situation. At one point the nurses even told me that there was no more room in the NICU fridge and I would need to freeze the surplus of milk. They would ask, "what pump are you using?" And when I said you, they would all nod like it made perfect sense.

So thank you. Thank you not only for giving me a feeling of purpose during those long NICU weeks. But also on behalf of my 3 month old son who is thriving - see chubby photo.

I really couldn't have done it without you.

~Q's Mama

Smile if You're Worried - Update

HE SMILED!!!!

And he keeps smiling. I finally feel like I can breathe a sigh of relief. One milestone down - a million more to go.

Now I just need him to start sleeping through the night.

For those of you who have no clue what I am talking about:
http://thebestfriendsguideto.blogspot.com/2010/05/smile-if-youre-worried.html

Seems like what they say is true. Preemies seem to work on their corrected age and not their birth age. Who knew?

~Davina

A Preemie Story - Part 4: Back Where it All Began

(Continued from: A Preemie Story - Part 3)

The strangest thing about being back at the hospital was having to repeat all the steps as if I had not just been there a day and a half earlier.

Step 1: register with OB check-in
Step 2: head to triage
Step 3: wait and wait some more
Step 4: answer all the doctor's questions as if I had not just answered the same questions 48 hours earlier

I was contracting-- of that I was sure, but for some reason the monitor could not pick it up. Each time I would feel my abdomen contract I watched the numbers on the monitor barely move.

"I know you can't tell but I swear this hurts a lot!" I told the nurse. She nodded sympathetically and adjusted the belly band. Still nothing.

The doctor came to see me and decided that it was time for an internal exam. Everyone else had stayed away from this option as they did not want to make an irritated cervix even more so. For whatever reason, my husband and I found this amusing.

"Irritated cervix," I chuckled. "Why is my cervix so sensitive? Did someone say something to make it mad?"

The mood in the triage room was light and calm as we bantered a bit with the night shift. The doctor prepared for the internal and said he was going to perform a fetal fibronectin test to determine if I was in labor. Turns out, we didn't need to know. After completing the internal there was blood - a large amount of blood - and the mood turned serious.

For a brief second the doctor and the nurse glanced at each other. It was in that glance I had everything I needed to know about the severity of the situation. Without a warning the doctor threw a sheet over my waist and the nurse pushed the side rails of the bed up and started rolling me down the hall.

"I can walk," I said.
"No. We want you as stationary as possible."

My husband followed the medical parade with my pocketbook in hand looking dazed. I watched the blood stain on the sheet covering me get bigger.  I instinctively put my hands on my belly and willed the baby to kick so I would know he was ok. He remained quiet.

Back to the labor and delivery room they carefully slid me over to a hospital bed where we, for the final time, tried not to have a baby.

...to be continued

~Davina

A Preemie Story - Part 3: The Shortest Longest Bedrest

(Continued from A Preemie Story - Part 2) 

I arrived home from the hospital on a Friday. My orders were to do nothing. Do not move. Do not climb stairs. Do not pass go. I walked in the door, up two flights of stairs (already breaking rules) to my bed and tried to remain still.

Bed rest sounds like a treat (who wouldn't want to be told you had to remain in bed?) but it's actually a nightmare. My mother made me tea and sat at the end of the bed trying not to look worried. My husband bought a Play Station 3 (I believe this is the guy version of retail therapy) and moved a mini fridge into our bedroom. He could not stop moving while I sat as still as stone. The anxiety in the house was so palpable and my stress from my stay in the hospital so clear, my two year old son took one look at me and started crying "NOOOOOOOOOOO. No Mama. No Mama".

I wanted to jump up out of bed, hug him, and tell him everything was going to be fine. But I really didn't know if that was the case. I made his squirmy body snuggle with me all the while trying to keep my belly out of harms way. I tickled him and he finally laughed. To him I had snuck out of the house 4 days earlier in the middle of the night. I didn't blame him for holding a grudge.

The day came to a close and my husband and I sat close together on the bed.

"How are we going to do this for 8 weeks?" I asked.
"We will manage," he replied.

One half day of bed rest had past.

The next day, Saturday, was much of the same. We had to all get used to the new world order where I did not do anything but everyone had to do everything for me. The minutes and hours ticked by painfully. Even my mother couldn't help but state the obvious as she made yet another cup of tea.

"How are you going to do this for 8 more weeks?"
"I don't know," I sighed.

My mother left our house around 5PM. My husband headed downstairs to give our son Grayson his dinner. Sitting alone for the first time in days, I took stock of how I felt. I did not miss the hospital but there was a part of me that took comfort hearing the baby's heartbeat and knowing he was ok. The magnesium had all but worked it's way out of my system and the sluggish feeling that followed me around had faded.

The entire day was such a whirlwind of adjusting to the new routine, I barely had time to register that I felt cramps. Now that I sat quiet and alone I felt a slight tightening in my abdomen.

At 7:30 my husband came upstairs after putting Grayson to bed. I told him about the tightening. I didn't yet want to commit to calling it "contractions" or "cramps". I just felt "off". I put a pillow between my knees and rolled to my side. The tightening lessened. A few minutes later it started again.

It was becoming clear that it was time to call the doctor again.  What started as an 8 week bed rest was about to turn into only a day and a half.

Next up: A Preemie Story - Part 4: Back Where it all Began

~Davina

A Preemie Story - Part 2: "Try Not to Have the Baby"

(Continued from A Preemie Story - Part 1) 

How do you stop a run-away train? Well, the truth is, you can't. Once the chain of events are set into motion, the best case scenario is to delay the inevitable crash.

So that's what we did, we delayed the birth of my son. At 31 weeks he was in the danger zone for a host of problems. None of which were a guarantee, but all of which were a concern. Breathing issues, low birth weight, organ failure. His body needed time to develop and time was the one thing on short supply.

And so began the drugs. An IV drip for magnesium sulfate to slow down the labor and boost his brain development. A round of steroid injections to improve his lungs. An antibiotic drip for group B strep. The machine supplying the drugs became a companion, my hope, my baby's protector (yes this is an actual photo of my IV drip).

One after another I heard babies being born down the hall let out their first cry. "Am I the only one on this floor trying to NOT have a baby?" I asked the doctor. "No," he responded, "There are more like you".

As Wednesday and Thursday passed the mood in my room became a bit more optimistic. The drugs were having some impact and my body began to slow down the labor progression. The question was, when they stopped the magnesium drip, would nature take over again? Somewhere in my heart I knew the answer was yes, but the doctors felt they had a handle on the situation so I tried to be positive along with them.

On Friday-- three days after being admitted to the hospital-- a doctor came into my room.

"So, how are we today?"
"Well, no bleeding," I responded.
"Cramping?"
"Some, but mild," I answered.

The doctor looked disappointed but informed me that they were thinking of sending me home. Having done as much as they could, it made more sense for me to be at home with my family. I could see the logic, but the nagging thought that this ride was not over would not leave me. I thought of the night it all began. The relief I felt getting to the hospital and having medical professionals watch over me. At home was different. I would be on strict bed rest. For 8 weeks. With a two year old. That's like trying to run a marathon without sneakers-- it probably could be done, but far from ideal.

Friday afternoon I was discharged. The doctor came in and read us the rules of strict bed rest:

1. No stairs (I live in a three story house)
2. A shower is fine but be quick about it
3. No picking up laundry, your son, or anything heavier than a feather
4. Nothing in your vagina

My husband and I giggled at the last one. Sex was the last thing on our minds and of course I would never think to use a tampon.

"Damn," I said to my husband. "Where are we going to store that coin collection?"
"We'll just have to find a new place to keep all those old books," he responded with a smile. 

And off we went. The nurses all waved goodbye. One even gave me her phone number if I needed anything. "Hope not to see you soon," they said. I smiled and thanked them all for taking such good care of me. At that moment, I loved each and every one of them.

I left the labor and delivery ward as pregnant as when I arrived.

Next Up: A Preemie Story - Part 3: The Longest Shortest Bed Rest
~Davina

A Preemie Story - Part I: Ready or Not...

Part 1: Ready or Not...

On March 7, 2010 my son Quentin was born 8 weeks early. The experience was sudden, unexpected, terrifying, surreal, and confusing.

A week before he was born, my husband and I watched television and went to bed per our normal routine. That night I tossed and turned. Back and forth, up and down to the bathroom. I had to pee, but nothing was really coming out. I felt nauseous.

Around 2:30 AM I made one final trip to the bathroom. I looked down and there, as gross as it sounds, was blood and a lot of it. I had been bleeding the whole pregnancy. The doctors really didn't think much of it (bleeding can happen for no real reason) but had one eye on me for good measure. I had seen blood before in the middle of the night, but this was different. I felt different. I remember feeling dread-- I knew this was not good but I was not scared, yet.

I shook my husband awake.

"We have a problem."

He was groggy at first and just to show him I wasn't being an alarmist, I made him look into the toilet bowl. The sight of so much blood snapped him out of the haze.

"We are calling the doctor, right now." he informed me.

Because all emergencies happen in the middle of the night (of course this would not happen at noon on a Tuesday) we were put through to Brigham and Women's hospital. Still somewhat calm, I told the attending my issues. This was not my first time calling after hours, but this was the first time I knew I needed to be seen. The pit of dread started spreading from my belly out to my fingers and toes. I began to feel anxious.

We called my mom. With as much calm as I could muster, I explained the situation and she scrambled out the door to watch our two year old son.


What to Expect When You're Expecting does not cover middle of the night hospital runs when your two year old is sleeping and you are only 31 weeks. This was where our story diverged from the books and the uncertainty was terrifying. On the drive to the hospital the streets were empty. A cop car pulled out behind us and despite his desire to blow all red lights, Brian was compelled to slow down.

We discussed the "what-ifs".

"What if this baby is born now?" Brian asked.
"It's not good." I replied.
We sat in silence.

Even in a major city like Boston, the hospital is quiet at night. I checked in with the OB office where an office worker took all my info.

"Are you in labor?" she asked.
"I hope not." I replied.

We were escorted up to triage where Brian and I sat, held hands, and waited. Waited for our names to be called and waited for someone to tell us that this was all going to be ok.  Minutes ticked by and the relief that we felt for making to the hospital was replaced with an anxious impatience. Why hadn't anyone seen us yet? We sat. And sat some more. Finally we were called.

The doctors had more questions than answers. How long have you been bleeding? What is your pain on a scale of 1-10? How much blood? How often do you bleed? At 4AM we were sent for an ultra-sound where another doctor sat silently studying the images. I wanted him to say something, anything, but his silence scared me. It was clear that idle chit-chat was not appropriate or encouraged. It didn't matter, I didn't know what to say anyway.

The baby was fine but my cervix was shortened. Things were moving. Maybe it was the start of labor but it was possible that it could be slowed down. I was informed that 31 weeks is not good-- 32 is much better. If we could get me to stay pregnant for 4 more days, that would be a help. Though he tried to hide it, there was concern on the doctor's face. I began to cry and the triage nurse hugged me.

At 4:30 Wednesday morning I was admitted and  officially became a labor and delivery patient trying not to have a baby.

Next Up: A Preemie Story - Part 2: "Try Not to Have the Baby"

~Davina

The Nap Nanny. Best. Invention. Ever.

So two nights ago was the trial run. The Nap Nanny came into our sleepless lives with promises of a more than two hour stretches (at best) of uninterrupted sleep.

As mentioned in my previous post, at first glance the Nap Nanny is nothing more than angled foam and a nubby blanket cover. My first thought upon seeing it was along the lines of "well that was a waste of $130."  But now that we have had a few days with this new device, I have to say that it may have been the best money ever spent.

I don't know why it works, but it does (I took the photo of Q to the left as I was typing this). My son who would never lay flat on his back and only could sleep on my chest or in the bouncy seat has made his opinion known by sleeping well more than his 2 hour stretches-- quietly settling in for 3, sometimes 4, hours.  As any sleepless parent knows, any extra sleep is good sleep.

What it is:
As mentioned, this is a piece of foam covered in a nubby fabric. There is a buckle around the waist. From the side it looks a bit like a rollercoaster. Babies seem to think it's magic.

What it is not:
There are no lights, no vibrations, no bounces. I was nervous at first because I thought that Quentin liked that movement and would balk at a stationary product. He's sleeping in it now and is as peaceful as can be... no battery required.

So the next question is, why didn't I keep on using the bouncy seat since that seemed to work? Well it was only marginally effective. Quentin would fall alseep but wake up just shy of 2 hours like clock-work. I liken it to falling asleep in a lazy-boy. Comfortable at first, but eventually you want to move to your bed.

The Nap Nanny seems to give him the peaceful sleep that was missing for his first few weeks of life. There is no weight limit so as long as you feel comfortable with your child in the seat, you can use it. They do recommend that once the baby can sit up, you start moving on to another method.

As a re-affirmation of Quentin's positive non-verbal sleep review, my two year old decided it would be fun to try it out. Upon sitting back he put his hands behind his head and exclaimed "comfortable!".

That's right dude, comfortable and sooooo worth it.

~Davina

My New Sitter - The IPhone

Hey tech parents. If you have an Iphone, there is an app out there that can make you life easier. Everyday that Quentin gets older (he's now 12 weeks) I feel like I can stop hovering... a bit. I was digging through the closet for the clunky baby monitor we used with our first son and realized that there must be an easier way.

Then it came to me... Iphone app.

Turns out there are a whole host of apps that can turn you Iphone into a monitor-on-the-go. Great for trips to grandmas and vacations where you would rather use the packing space for an extra set of shoes.

The next question is, what app do you use? Search for "baby monitor" and the results are numerous and ranging in prices from $37.99 to "free".

The most rated/used is the CodeGoo Baby monitor for $4.99. Set your phone near the baby and if the baby makes a noise you get a call back to another number to check on him. Hopefully you are still nearby and not at the mall... kidding.

Seems like a cool concept, but the biggest complaint is the sensitivity of the device. There is no way to set it up for "screaming" versus "happy coo" so if your baby is chatty, you'll be getting lots of notification calls.

The other app I found interesting is the CriBaby - Baby Monitor. This is a live audio stream of your baby -- although you need two IPhones. One to act as the transmitter and one as the receiver. Free to download but a subscription based cost for the use of the WiFi bandwidth on a monthly basis.  You can stop and start the subscription as needed.

My husband and I both have IPhones so I think we may give the CriBaby a try for our vacation this summer. I'm not wild about the monthly fee, but I do like the idea of a consistent stream of Quentin's peeps and crys.

Now they just need an IPhone app to change diapers.

~Davina

The Nap Nanny is in the Hiz-ouse!

This could be a game changer.

Having just spent the last 12 weeks not sleeping it was all I could do not to hug the postman when he delivered the Nap Nanny today.

What is the Nap Nanny you ask? Well according to review I read online, it's a revolution in baby sleeping. Part foam wedge, part nubby blanket I am hoping this creation will change the amount of sleep we all get.

More to come in the AM. Wish me luck.

Alphabet Soup

Looking for an original baby shower gift? I just got a great gift in the mail from a good friend in Jolly Ole' England.

Johnny's Sister (http://www.jonnyssister.co.uk/standard-love-letters-p-260.html) based out of the UK creates custom letter gifts. Letter soaps, letter pillows, wooden letters... you pick the letter and they craft it out of the appropriate material.

I just got the "Q" Love Letter pillow in the mail for my son Quentin's nursery. It's not as practical as a diaper geenie or bouncy seat, but just as thoughtful and way more fun.

Orders can be placed online and the ship world-wide.

Check out http://www.jonnyssister.co.uk/ for their full range of products.

~Davina

Rub a Dub Dub, I Love the Puj Tub

For the first few months of my premature son's life my husband and I avoided the baby bath tub. Sponge baths seemed so much saner at least until he put on some pounds and some neck muscles showed up.

So it was with delight that I discovered the Puj Tub. This miracle piece of foam fits in any standard size sink and allows for a two handed, stress free, rinse down. Of course the basic safety rules of bath time still apply but it's a whole lot easier on everyone-- I'm not sure who enjoyed it more, me or the baby.

What it is:

Basically for $39.99 plus shipping (babiesrus.com) you get a flat piece of foam. There are magnets that make the flat foam transform into a scoop shape that slide under the faucet and into a sink. When you are done simply pull the magnets apart and hang on the back of the bathroom door. Great for small spaces or taking on a trip.

What it is not:

Long term. I'm pretty sure this is going to be good for only a few more months. There are not set weight guidelines, but once your baby can't fit into the sink-- you and the puj are done.

It is also not available in stores. I ordered it from babiesrus.com-- it came in a few days.

One comment/criticism. They call out that you are not to run the water on the baby. Makes sense but generally for bath time water is a necessity. So there is a bit of planning to make sure you have an extra basin of water ready. I am lucky to have two sinks in my bathroom, for those who do not, I  can see the first few times using this to be a lesson in planning.

The video below shows how this works. Money well spent in my book.

Smile if You're Worried

Yesterday I asked my husband if I worry excessively about our premature son.

"Yes," he replied. "But if we didn't go through what we went through with him I would call you out on it more."

What we went through was life changing. A month of roller coaster  emotions where one day I was home and pregnant, the next in the hospital ready to deliver a baby eight weeks early.

Our son has been home for six weeks now and we are taking him to his two month check-up today. I have a list of questions for the doctor, but what I really want to know is how I stop worrying. I can hear him now, making his baby noises in the pack-n-play and it's all I can do to keep myself from running over to him. Last night he slept on my chest... all night. I dread feeding him because his immature digestive system causes him to writhe in pain for a good 20 minutes after eating. He has not pooped in 6 days.

He has not smiled.

I am waiting patiently. All the books say 6 weeks. Six weeks for a normal full term baby to look at their parents and smile with a glitter in their eyes. The smile that is not gas and in response to the love and care that has been showered for the first few weeks.

However, premature babies have their own time-table. They go by when they should have been born, not by when they were born. By this calculation I am looking at the second week in June for my smile. The smile will mean many things on the development scale, but most of all it will be a sign. A sign that he understands that he's loved.

And maybe, I can stop worrying a little bit.

UPDATE: He Smiled!
http://thebestfriendsguideto.blogspot.com/2010/06/smile-if-youre-worried-update.html

~Davina

Vogue Letter to the Editor

The most recent issue of Vogue (May 2010) had an article on premature babies. The author discussed her experiences with her premature daughter and the comfort it gave her to dress her small daughter in outfits outside of the standard hospital wear. 


Having just given birth to a preemie, I really related to this article and was compelled to write a letter to the editor  (and besides, a Letter to the Editor may be my only chance to be within the pages of Vogue). 

I'll be sure and update this post with the article I referenced (if I can find it) and any updates if Vogue decides to use it. 

~Davina

************

(Response to the article Small Wonders)

I started reading Veronica Chambers article Small Wonder hesitantly. I could not help but wonder how on earth commentary on premature babies would fit in the pages of Vogue. Having just had a premature baby 6 weeks ago, I am hyper-sensitive to the emotional rollercoaster a premature baby can bring into a new parent’s life. Thankfully the author’s tone was just right.

One thing a parent of a healthy, full term baby cannot understand is what it feels like to be a helpless outsider to your newborns care. You watch as a team of nurses and doctors take care of everything.  Sleepless nights and 3AM feedings are replaced with a closely placed telephone and the NICU’s phone number nearby.

It was because of this helpless feeling that I brought my small son a striped beanie hat to wear while in the NICU. The hat was too big for his head but I stuck it on him anyway. It was a small statement in a huge situation. This was my son. This was his hat and I, as his mother, felt slightly less helpless.