Hospitals are no fun

I'm sure most of you know that hospitals are no fun, but I didn't realize how much worse it is when your infant son is the patient.

In the last year we have had 6 hospitals stays.  YES 6!

1. My first birth, a kidney stone
2. Horrific car accident, I got an overnight stay Mike got a 2 day stay and 3 months out of work
3. Mike's work accident, 40 foot fall from scaffolding, started in ER ended up in Trauma
4. Birth of Ezra and recovery from c-section, 4 days
5. Incision infection, drained and re-packed - probably the grossest thing that's ever happened to me
6. Ezra's recent stint at the Children's hospital

Needless to say I'm a pro at getting to the hospital and the entire intake process.  But when it's your son and not you (or your husband) it's so much worse.

Ezra woke up Tuesday morning (or should I say in the middle of the night on Monday) having lots of trouble breathing and just being generally upset.  He was in and out of sleep with lots of crying and coughing in between.  He wouldn't eat and he had lots of boogers.

Around 4:30 we tried to feed him again but he only ate about 2 oz, and he was wheezing (by my definition) and breathing quickly and not seeming to get enough air.  After 3 different dialed numbers from the dr's office I finally talked to a nurse and she told me to head to the ER.

Just an interjection - if you ever feel like you should take your baby to the ER, take them to the ER.  Dr's have an uncanny ability to make you question your panic (and sanity at times) but usually your instinct is much closer to correct.  I've had one dr tell me to bring the baby in quickly and when I got to the office they tell me that he's just fussy and I should take him for a walk.  Seriously.  Moral of the story, just trust your instinct and don't waste the time with the answering service and trying to explain why you are panicking.

Once we got to the ER, the intake nurse noticed his very heavy breathing and was quick to admit him into a room.  Once we got into the room they checked on him fairly quickly and said that he was in fact working really hard to breathe.  Again, trust your instincts, mom.

Then they put him through baby torture deep suction.  Which basically means they put a tube through his nose into his throat and tried to suck out whatever goop was in there.  His nose bled and he SCREAMED.  It was painful... for me.  I'm just thankful that I didn't have to help her hold him down.

After deep suction, they decided he was still struggling to breathe and tried albuterol.  He actually took to the mask pretty well.  We rocked and sang and he stayed pretty calm.  The albuterol didn't do much for his breathing but it turned him back into the wild man that I know.  He was all.over.the.place.  Rolling, grabbing things, jumping, laughing, trying to crawl, eating the sheets, throwing his toys.  I imagined he felt better, but his belly was really working fast at breathing.

They checked on him again and his breathing rate was an 80, which I guess its supposed to be around 30 or 40.  Yikes.  They all kept commenting about how happy he was and how healthy he looked.  He really loved all the people coming in to smile at him.  He is going to be such a flirt.

They decided to try another albuterol treatment to see if that would calm him down.  No go.  Now they had to decide if they should admit him or not.  I guess the difficulty in the decision was how happy he was - of course happiness is more important that efficient breathing. Right.

I convinced them since I was a nervous wreck that if they sent me home, I would probably turn around in the parking lot and just come back in.  I don't think I could handle having him at home when his breathing was double what it should be.

So we were admitted to the hospital for an overnight stay.  Ezra loved meeting all the nurses and doctors and was rolling around in his cage crib.  I made sure that we had plenty of toys and he seemed to be doing ok.  He was still not eating as much as usual, and was still breathing really quickly, but at least he wasn't struggling to breathe the way he was before.

The know-it-all resident also had to make me feel like a moron right after we were admitted.  I (without a medical degree) mistakingly called the stressed breathing sound that Ezra was making "wheezing."  Apparently, you can only hear wheezing with a stethoscope. Thank you for correcting me Dr, but what should I call the sound that everyone else on earth without a stethoscope calls wheezing?  It's like she knew what I was talking about but she had to correct me.  Annoying.  If I wasn't so worried about Ezra, I might've punched her.

Overnight was great for the baby, but terrible for mommy.  He slept with no complaint (until a 4:30 bottle) but 2 complaints that I have:
why on earth don't they have rocking chairs in a children's hospital?
and what's up with the chairbed? Could we get an air mattress or something?  My legs were legit hanging from the knees down off the end of it and the head part is lower than the butt part so I ended up with a headache.

Not to mention the know-it-all resident Dr scared the BEJEEZUS out of me at 7 in the morning to tell me that Ezra looked ok.  Great, why did you wake me up if he is sleeping and he looks ok????

Ezra loved his cage crib! He was definitely feeling better in the morning

Although his breathing was still fast, I felt comfortable heading home because he wasn't breathing so hard anymore.  His tests came back with a positive for rhino virus, (aka a cold).  Now they are concerned that he is more at risk for asthma.

We are supplied with a nebulizer, and not-so-high-tech snot sucker at home and antibiotics for a snot caused ear infection.  And my baby woke up this morning literally covered with boogers.  All over his face.  Crusty boogers.  It was gross, but I'm so happy he's home!

Spring Fever

Around this time of year, if you are a teacher, you notice students to start to get completely antsy. They can't stop running, yelling, moving, whatever. For some reason, the thought of warm air makes them so excited they can barely contain themselves.

Contributing to this here in Em&M land, is the end of the first round of state testing. It's like they think the game's over now and they don't have to play anymore. They don't quite understand that there is no "bonus round" in school.

As a teacher, Spring Fever time is torture. You can't get anything done. Your students promptly forget every important think you've drilled into their heads over the last 6 months. They look longingly out the window all day and they can't focus on anything.

This is also the time of year that my patience meter dwindles. All the nudgy behavior that I've been able to ignore (nose picking, interrupting, super long pointless story interjection, tapping pencils/markers/shoes, ripping erasers/small papers, etc, etc) crawls up my skin and makes me want to run for the Caribbean - umbrella drink included.

One student summed it up perfectly when I asked what on earth was keeping him from adding on that day.  He said, "You know, I think I'm just tired of school."

All I could think was, me too!

Blobbing

Apparently that's what Mike thinks I do.

He informed me yesterday evening that "the new thing" is parenting blobs.  You keep blobbing until you get people to sponsor your Blob and then they pay you.

He told me that's what I should do, get a blob sponsor. 

I informed him that although I may have about 40 people who "read" my blob - there probably aren't any sponsors who's product could earn tons of revenue by advertising on my blob.  But I'll work on it ::insert eyeroll::

Then I told him that if he continues to call it a Blob instead of a blog - I will make fun of him.

"Blog?" he says, "Who came up with bloG? That's a weird word.  I like blob better."

At least he's showing an interest in what I do. :)

P.S. if you would be interested in sponsoring my blob to reach all 43 of my readers, please email me ;)

Considerations I should've made...

1. Check the floor for creakiness when deciding where to put the baby's crib.  "creak, creak, creak" is not helpful when trying to place a sleeping baby into a crib.

2. Think about how you most often hold the baby before choosing the place for the mobile.  It is not fun to get bopped in the nose by a giraffe every time you put the baby down so his head is under the mobile.  Also, three-point baby turns in your arms are difficult when you are placing a sleeping baby in a crib.

3. Don't bother folding.  It is IMPOSSIBLE to keep everything neat in a drawer when it is all so small.  Just don't bother.

4. Should've registered for plastic storage containers, the big ones, to store all his clothes that he's to big for.  It's all in a pile right now in his room, I should probably do something about that...

5. Shirts with collars are cute, but collars are just spit up catchers.  There is no way to get a bib over a collar.  You will change his shirt 4 times that day.

6. Buy a house with a nursery on the first floor, near the TV, computer, and refrigerator.  You're butt will not get smaller from walking up and down the stairs 86 times a day - and the precise amount of time it takes to get from the couch up the stairs to the crib is the amount of time it takes a baby to get really pissed about losing their pacifier while almost sleeping.

7. Only make half a dinner.  Only one of you will get to eat at a time anyway - the other will be doing anyone of the following at dinner time: catching spit up, consoling a cranky baby, walking up and down the stairs replacing a pacifier, changing a diaper (which really can ruin a meal), or making stupid faces to try and make the baby laugh.

But - even without having made these considerations, life is much better with all the chaos.  ;)

Traumatic Shopping Trip

I don't know if it was more traumatic for me, for Ezra, or for those shopping around us.  If you were one of them, I apologize.

Due to a "situation" on Christmas Eve involving bail money - we needed to return most of the gifts that Mike and I bought for each other.  Anyone who's been to any mall or shopping area the week after Christmas knows that everyone and their brother's mother are doing the very same thing.

I needed to go to Kohls, Target, Crate & Barrel, Macy's and Benny's.  I had the entire trip planned out, and even planned for a stop for Ezra to eat and be changed.  Of course at Kohl's there was a line for returns and Ezra slept right through it, thank goodness.  Then I decided to look around for some work clothes and baby clothes because I had some gift certificates.

Ezra was not happy.  He screamed and screamed and screamed.  If you've met him, you know what I'm talking about.  He doesn't have a cute newborn cry, he has a pissed-at-the-world scream.  So we went into a fitting room and I changed his diaper. Of course he was happy as a clam looking at himself in the mirror.

He hates that car seat.  I think I'm going to have to break out the Jeep stroller and try that out because he HATES being in that seat.  The instant I put him back in he started up again.  I tried pushing him around, swaying the stroller, shoving a pacifier in his mouth.  Nothing worked.  And of course I left my handy Ergo at home.

Target was much of the same.  I thought he was better and I started to look for some things that I was going to exchange, and once I got to the back corner of the store - more screaming.  You'd think I was carrying him around by his baby toe or something.

Lots of dirty looks while I raced to the front door and he screamed all the way out of the parking lot.  I contemplated not taking him to the next stop, about 15 minutes away, but he was calm by the time we exited the parking lot and I figured he'd be fine once I fed him.

I should've skipped the next stop.  We went to the Providence Place Mall.  It was packed.  It took me 30 minutes to find a parking space.  Then we spent 45 minutes in the Nordstrom lounge eating and changing diapers.  Of course the returns couldn't have gone easily.

Then I almost passed out because I was so hungry but the food court was absolutely packed as well.  By the time I got my food, ate, and finished my returns it had been 2 1/2 hours.  I wanted to go home.  But I forgot to pay before I went out to the car, so I had to return and pay for parking.

Then when I attempted to back out of the parking spot, the cars all stopped moving.  For about 45 minutes.  As soon as we got into the car, Ezra started screaming bloody murder.  Like gagging, coughing, red faced, screaming crying.  I was stuck in a parking garage, in a car, with a screaming newborn.

I contemplated getting out and going back in the mall, but it was getting close to rush hour time and I didn't want to be stuck in the parking lot and then stuck in traffic on the highway.  Plus, I wasn't sure that I could make Ezra happy by going back into the mall.  He needed to be calmed by the moving car - but that wasn't happening.  I called my mom in tears.  My claustrophobia kicked in.  I was on the verge of ramming cars and driving the wrong way down the entrance to get out.  I figured we couldn't afford to bail me out of jail and fix the jeep, so I tried my hardest to stay calm.

Fortunately, I didn't reach my complete breaking point, and Ezra had a few 5 minute breaks between screaming sessions.  I felt like a terrible mother.  Who lets their baby scream like that??  I had to choose between stopping, getting out and possibly calming him for 5 minutes until we had to get back in the car, or trying to get out of there as fast as I could so he could sleep in the moving car.

The mall parking garage actually made the 6 o'clock news last night too.  Apparently some people were stuck for up to 3 hours.  I'm glad that I didn't stop, or I might still be stuck in that garage.

I drove straight home, frazzled, frustrated, and tired.  Ezra ate and then was the best baby ever.  He slept for a little bit and Mike came home and let me just lay on the couch and watch my favorite bad reality TV for a little bit.

Hopefully next time I can wait to do my returns until the season dies down a bit - and maybe I'll get a babysitter.

Worst Mom Ever Moment

I just almost clipped off the tip of my kid's finger while clipping his nails.  There was a little blood and a lot of screaming and tears (from both of us).  I feel terrible!!  I always hate clipping his nails and now I'm petrified to keep going with the remaining 4 fingers.

Hopefully he won't have an irrational fear of fingernail clippers and turn out to be a weird long fingernailed man.  Please tell me I haven't damaged him for life!!

Worst.Mom.Ever. :(

P.S. This is my 100th post!!! Wow!!  (I probably should've had a better post for 100, and made this one 101, oh well)

Things someone should invent...

Just a few things that are necessity from my experience - although I'm not sure any of them can really be invented. :)

A pacifier holder - to keep it in the baby's mouth.  To be honest, in moments of frustration, I've thought about putting a rubber band around the kids head for .4 seconds, but I do realize that would not be safe at all.  (don't worry, you don't need to call Child Protective Services)  There is nothing more frustrating than having to pee sooooo bad, and having a baby that is almost asleep but starts to cry every time the pacifier falls out.  You know if you go to the bathroom, you'll have a screaming baby and be back to square one (where you were an hour ago, with a tired baby who won't go to sleep).

A What the Heck is Wrong with Me? Monitor - it sits near the baby and picks up "vibes" so we parents know what the heck is wrong with the baby.  Some options could be gas, reflux, boredom, wet/dirty diaper, I'm mad at you for something, tiredness, etc.

This should also have an "Yes I'm done pooping" alert as well.  No one likes to be pooped on (just ask my mom, my brother pooped in her hair one time, don't ask my why her hair was anywhere near his naked butt) and no one likes to have to change a diaper three times in 10 minutes because you thought your kid was done pooping.  It's not so bad with cloth because at least you know you're not just throwing away money, you can wash and reuse.  If possible, an "I'm about to pee" alert would help, too, because I already took a shower today, thank you.

A car seat with a vibration feature - this one comes from Mike.  All I can say is the vibration feature on any of our baby equipment is fabulous, it's basically a Quiet button.  For whatever reason, Ezra looooves to be shaken up.  We have been in restaurants and stores with the baby in the car seat and he starts to fuss and you know he won't remember what the pacifier is until he's screaming bloody murder at which point people start staring and talking.  Taking him out of the seat makes it worse because you have to bend his arms and apparently he doesn't like that - all we'd need is a quiet button.

A handle for the bouncy seat - because no matter how many times I do it, I always pick it up by the toy bar which promptly comes detached so the bouncy seat falls on the floor - baby not included, obviously.  Those things are nearly impossible to carry one handed, while carrying a baby (and possibly some laundry).

A spit-up measurer - every time we go to the doctor they ask me how much spit up he has, and all I can think is I have no freaking clue, I didn't have time to grab the measuring cups to catch his spit up in.  If I was in a cranky mood, I'd probably say "enough to run about 6 inches down my shirt" or something to that effect.  They usually throw out something like "a shot glass? a table spoon? a mouthful?" and I just pick one because, really, I have no freaking clue.

Maternal Instincts

First, I must admit that I have a dirty secret.  Brace yourself... I love bad reality TV.  I love all of it.  Real World, Real Housewives,  Jerseylicious,  ::insert any VH1 bad dating show::, and finally 16 and Pregnant.

I can't explain what sucks me in, but I have also gotten Mike somewhat addicted to 16 and Pregnant.  I don't know if it's because I was or was trying to get pregnant when theses shows aired, but we must watch every week.  It's like a train wreck sometimes, you know the ending and it's not pretty, but you're still interested in how it happened and all the details.

I think it was 2 weeks ago, there was this straight A, award winning student who got pregnant.  There was a scene where she and her 17 year old boyfriend were discussing how life would be after they graduated high school, got married, and moved into married housing at a state college to raise their baby.  Their conversation went something like this:

Mom: How do you think it will be when we move into married housing at college?

Dad: I think it will be good.

Mom: Are you nervous about anything?  We've never taken care of a baby before, neither of us really know what we're doing.

Dad: I'm sure your maternal instincts will kick in.

::Insert hysterical laughing::  These kids are in for a BIG surprise.

Parenting doesn't really fall under instinct in my book.  I had visions of all of my "what the heck am I supposed to do?" moments in these first few weeks.  Many which left me covered in poop, pee, or breastmilk - or holding a crying baby while consulting a baby book or a more experienced mother.   The same situation could present itself twice in one day, and I'll do the exact opposite the second time.  That's the thing with these babies, you don't have any clue what they are trying to tell you when they are screaming - the decisions I make feel more like guesses than instinct.

Not to mention all of the "new" fandangled equipment one must have to raise a baby these days.  I don't know if I'd be able to use most of it without an instruction manual.  It took me 20 minutes to figure out how to get the baby into my baby carrier - and I had instructions with pictures and everything.  I actually started crying at the police station because I couldn't get the car seat out of the base when I was having the installation checked for safety.  On voting day, I put the car seat in my Snap n Go backwards in front of a group of onlookers.

My instincts don't seem to lead me in the right directions when it comes to baby equipment.

Now I know I'm probably more of a planner and researcher than most parents, but I check Google or a baby book at least 6 times a day to make sure that I'm doing something "right."  If I left everything to maternal instincts I'd be lost or a complete basketcase and my mother would probably have to change her phone number.

So, the lesson that I learned from these 16 year olds is that I'm glad I was 26 and pregnant - and not leaving parenting to my instincts or help from my 17 year old boyfriend. :)

The Shower

One thing that I was surprised to discover after becoming a mom was that my favorite time of any given day is when I get to take a shower.  Mind you, I also love naps, snuggling with Ezra, and eating junk food but I would absolutely take a nice long, hot, shower over any of those (sorry Baby, but we can snuggle after the shower).

I knew that showers would be few and far between once Ezra was here, and I'm ok with that.  I don't actually get dressed either unless I'm going somewhere and if the dogs and the baby mind that I smell a little, they haven't said anything.  ;) And yes, I've had that moment in public where I realize I forgot to put on deodorant and I am the one that smells like that.  Klassy.

But a hot shower has turned into my haven of sanity.  If the baby is screeching, which he sometimes does right now for no reason at all for up to an hour, I can't hear him and Mike gets to try and figure it out for 20 - 30 minutes.  I finally get some time to think - like think rationally - about things.  It is very difficult to think rationally about life when you're pumping, breastfeeding, changing a diaper, waking up from a sound sleep, trying to force a pacifier into a baby's mouth, yelling at the dogs to stop barking while the baby is sleeping, feeling guilty about something, etc, etc.

It is almost like when you're pregnant and hormonal and everything is a HUGE deal, even though you know it really isn't.  When you're changing a diaper, the bills don't really matter as much (foreclosure! Ha, we're up to our armpits in poop anyway), food is not important (oh yeah, I didn't eat breakfast or lunch today, that's why I have a headache and my belly hurts)... you get the picture.

But in the shower, it all makes sense.  I remember appointments, things I need to get done, I can make a plan for the day/evening - even though I know I won't be able to follow it all the way through.  I feel like I can do this mommy thing, even if it's only for 20 minutes.