Preemie Premonitions

I was standing in front of a room full of people, presenting my latest project at work.  I was wearing tan pants and I looked down to see bright red blood soaking through them.  I tried to turn my body, hoped that no one saw it and continued on.  As quickly as I could, without being obvious, I finished up and sat down in the back of the room as the meeting adjourned.  Sitting back on my tail bone, not wanting any more blood to soak through.  I was supposed to meet with a small team next, so I wrote to the organizer who was sitting next to me.

I can’t meet.  I have to go home.

 

She knew me pretty well – considering I’d only been at the company a couple of months.  She whispered back to me, asking what was wrong.  I tried to not respond, but she was insistent.  Finally, I wrote again.

I am pregnant and I’m bleeding.  A lot.

 

I could tell she instantly regretted asking.  I sat in the meeting, watching the final minutes of the meeting.  As soon as the meeting was out, I positioned my notebook in front of my waist and rushed to the bathroom.  This was the third week in a row that I’d had bleeding.  I was 7 weeks pregnant and had already had two ultrasounds.  I knew something wasn’t right with this pregnancy.  As I observed the amount of blood and saw how much worse it was than the previous weeks, I tried to keep myself pulled together.  Untucking my shirt to cover my pants, and finding a pad to keep it from getting too much worse, I rushed to my desk and put on my coat.  My boss already knew I was pregnant, because I had to explain my pasts absences the two weeks prior.  I just simply said, “I need to go.”  He asked if I needed a ride.  I said no and was off.

I had already been to the doctor twice, so I knew the drill.  If I was miscarrying, they wouldn’t be able to stop it, so there was no point in going to the ER.  I went home and cried all night.  Kyle came home and held me.  I was positive there was no way I could still be pregnant with all the blood I was still losing.     I finally fell into a deep sleep, fatigued from all the crying.

As I slept, I dreamed in techno color.  In the dream, I was holding Kellen and we looked down at a baby.  A boy.  He was nearly bald, with fine golden hair, I couldn’t tell if it was red or blonde.  He looked much like Kellen had, but different.  His head shape was slightly different and there was something else.  I couldn’t put my finger on it – the baby was so still.  Something wasn’t right.  I had always felt he would come early, with the dream I knew he would…earlier than Kellen.

More than anything, I knew I was still pregnant.  I like to think I’m a rationale person and that a dream is just a dream, but I knew that dream meant something.  I was giddy on my way to the ultrasound the next morning.  I think Kyle thought I was crazy to be in such a good mood after being so certain I’d miscarried less than 8 hours before.  I nearly sang the words, “I’m still pregnant.  It’s a boy and I saw him!”  and I proceeded to describe the future Owen to Kyle.

As happy as it made me in the moment, that dream haunted me for the next 17 weeks of my pregnancy.  There was something wrong.  What was wrong?  I kept replaying the dream in my head, watching him to see if he was breathing.  I knew he would be born, but I wasn’t really sure if he was alive.

Only a few months later, I stood over Owen’s NICU bed with Kellen in my arms and I realized I was living the moment my dream predicted.  The dream left out the ventilator and myriad of cords, but there lay a very still baby Owen while I faked calm for Kellen – searching for signs to see if he’d live.

I’m not sure of the purpose of that dream; if it was a warning or a way for my brain to start working on the unimaginable events to come, or just an odd coincidence, but it seems I’m not alone.  I’ve heard of so many others who had premonitions…did you?  What did the premonition mean to you and how do you think doctors and patients should differentiate between normal pregnancy jitters and true intuition?

Cold and Flu Season Dread

I don’t know if panic is exactly the right word…okay, panic is the right word… I have to be honest, I’ve really, really been struggling with the thought of being stuck in our house for another Cold and Flu season.  Eight to nine months of only leaving the house for doctor/therapy appointments and for dropping off and picking up Kellen for school.  The closer it gets; the more the weather changes and the more I see parents posting on Facebook about their kids being sick, the larger the pit in my stomach grows.  Dread, panic, MOODY and anxiety all come to mind.  Seriously, as I type this, tears run down my face.  I’ve done this cold and flu season winter thing before and let me tell you, the very nicest word I can come up for it is, it SUCKS!

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Making sense of Mom Labels

It was right around Owen’s first birthday when someone suggested I look into the Pacer program as a resource for our family.  When I went to their website, I was surprised.  This wasn’t a website for preemies or sick children; it was a website for families of children with disabilities.

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Fear of the Jinx

Owen’s breathing has been Fan-tab-u-lous lately.  I mean, really, really good.    Even through his illness last week, he’s done amazing.  Because it’s been so good, we only have him on the monitor when he’s sleeping and nearly every time I walk into his room his cannulas are not in his nose and I’d never know by looking at the monitor or his breathing patterns.  I checked in with Pulmonary yesterday and they weaned his diuretics again.  He’s now at ½ what he was getting just a month ago.  From my Google wizardry and rounded math, his current dose is at the bare minimum of what’s considered therapeutic –  in other words, anything less isn’t going to do much.

Great news, right?

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The NICU Mom Bond

Whenever I’m asked, what’s the best advice you can give to a parent of a child in the NICU, my first response is always, “Get to know the other parents”.  I would never wish a sick child on anyone, but I was so happy to not be alone each day that I spent at the hospital.

My first mom connections were in nursery two.

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