Brystol, Three Weeks Old
A Photo Collection of Baby Bits and Pieces
Chubby Cheeks
Tiny Mouth
Bright Eyes
Exquisite Ears
Downy Hair
Kissable Neck
Delicate Fingers
Strong Arms
Lithe Body
Long Legs
Beautiful Feet 
"For you created my inmost being;
you knit me together in my mother's womb.
I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."
Psalm 139:13-14a NIV
Thursday, August 13, 2009
Bits and Pieces
Thursday, August 6, 2009
At Two Weeks
Two weeks with a new baby in the house go by so much faster than two weeks waiting for baby, and the "2ww" (the "two-week wait" -- the two week span of time between ovulation and implantation) wondering if you've conceived a baby doesn't even feel like the same passage of time at all.
Brystol is now 2 weeks old and she's changed so much. She's obviously thinner -- she weighed 7 pounds 11 ounces at birth, she dropped to 6 lbs. 10, and is now right back around 7 pounds. To get her back to birth weight and beyond, we're both nursing and supplementing with expressed milk using a Medela starter supplemental nursing system. I'm hoping to eliminate all supplemental technology within the next couple of weeks, but my plans are contingent upon her rate of growth. She's growing, she's putting on weight and going in the right direction, it's just not a quick process.
Brystol has more periods of alertness than she did initially. We love looking into her beautiful eyes. They're still that standard grey-blue color of the newborn, but I think they'll be brown in the end. Her hair is thinning a bit in the front, and every once in a while, I think I see a hint of red. (It's very red in these pictures!) James is concerned Brystol will be the only red-headed Filipino in the world, but that's what he gets for marrying a girl of German/Irish descent -- the risk of red-headed kids who tan well. She's lost the squeaky cry of a newborn baby and now has a robust howl. And speaking of lost, she lost her umbilical cord stump and found her big girl belly button. Her buttoned little tummy looks so cute!
Brystol is now 2 weeks old and she's changed so much. She's obviously thinner -- she weighed 7 pounds 11 ounces at birth, she dropped to 6 lbs. 10, and is now right back around 7 pounds. To get her back to birth weight and beyond, we're both nursing and supplementing with expressed milk using a Medela starter supplemental nursing system. I'm hoping to eliminate all supplemental technology within the next couple of weeks, but my plans are contingent upon her rate of growth. She's growing, she's putting on weight and going in the right direction, it's just not a quick process.
Brystol has more periods of alertness than she did initially. We love looking into her beautiful eyes. They're still that standard grey-blue color of the newborn, but I think they'll be brown in the end. Her hair is thinning a bit in the front, and every once in a while, I think I see a hint of red. (It's very red in these pictures!) James is concerned Brystol will be the only red-headed Filipino in the world, but that's what he gets for marrying a girl of German/Irish descent -- the risk of red-headed kids who tan well. She's lost the squeaky cry of a newborn baby and now has a robust howl. And speaking of lost, she lost her umbilical cord stump and found her big girl belly button. Her buttoned little tummy looks so cute!
Tummy Time with Dad
Not Feeling Photogenic
Big Girl Belly Button
Sleeping Sweetly
Wednesday, August 5, 2009
Afterbirth
After the c-section, I seemed to bounce back right away. I had surgery at 8:00 that morning and was up and moving around later that afternoon. I stayed on the IV for 24 hours and received pain medicine through the fluid. The next day, Friday, I switched to oral pain meds and took them on a fairly regular schedule, but I was still up and around. I even considered going home earlier than planned. I decided to stay so we'd have round-the-clock access to the lactation nurses in the hospital.
On Saturday, the nurses began stretching the time between doses of pain medicine, and by evening, I began experiencing increasing pain around the c-section incision. All the nurses and the doctor said my incision looked good and attributed my increasing pain to my mobility. They suggested some rest and I began calling for the medicine a bit more frequently. By Sunday morning, the incision was quite sore. My OB rounded with me that day and said the pain was probably related to skin that had begun growing around the edges of the staples. He ordered the staple removal that day, but as the day progressed, my incision pain was bypassed by a terrible headache. My nurse again suggested rest and insisted that I delay or cancel visitors and take a nap instead. I tried resting, but the headache grew increasingly worse.
After being observed by two nurses and meeting with the anesthesiologist, it was determined that I was experiencing a spinal headache. Evidently, the many spinal attempts made by the CRNA left a wound that wasn't sealing or healing properly. To correct the issue, I had to have a blood patch administered. James and Brystol stayed in the hospital room while I was wheeled back to L&D. There, the anesthesiologist and another CRNA worked together -- the doctor administered a local anesthesia and probed around my spine until he found the wound. Despite the local, I felt a throb with each push. Meanwhile, the CRNA prepared a sterile field on my hand and withdrew a vial of blood. When the doctor found the right location, he injected the sterile blood into the location in my spine. Literally, after only a few minutes, the intense headache was completely gone. I had a "hangover headache" for the rest of the evening, but overall, I felt so much better.
The incision, however, it still hurt like crazy! The nurse tried to dismiss the pain, suggesting I rest instead of having the staples removed, but as the evening progressed, I could no longer bear the pain. The nurse came in with her little bag of tools and said the staple removal would feel similar to eyebrow plucking. She couldn't have been more wrong. The removal was so much more painful than leaving them in place, but it was something that had to be done. I did feel relief once it was over.
The nurse was puzzled by all the pain, but she again just said the skin had begun growing over the edges. Perhaps that was the answer. The next morning, I had my final check by the rounding doctor and my lovely incision was complimented once again. The paperwork for discharge was submitted, and by lunchtime, I was on my way home.
We arrived home and began to settle in, and within a few minutes, a hungry baby needed nursing and I sat down to care for her. As I reached across my body to grab a pillow to my left, I felt an unzipping way down low. Instantly, my lap was warm with blood and fluid. I pressed my hand to the wound, not fully understanding what had happened, and began to call for James who was in the shower. James took the baby from my arms and called the doctor to find out what we should do. Marcie examined the opening -- my frantic mind imagined her looking for body parts. I felt relief when she told me she just saw an opening on my surgery scar -- not intestines spilling out.
The nurse at the doctor's office told us to come in right away, so after twenty tumultuous minutes at home, we were off again. The doctor said I must have developed a hematoma -- a collection of fluid and blood -- behind the incision. The pressure of the hematoma combined with me turning across my body caused the incision to open up. He mashed around on it and forced it to drain some, then sent me home with instructions to let it keep draining. I was to come back two days later to have it packed.
By Wednesday, the draining slowed. I went in to have the wound packed and discovered the plan was to have the wound packed two to three times each day. Home health care would have to be ordered and healing was projected to take 4-6 weeks. Since a nurse likely wouldn't be in my home by that night, I scheduled a time to come back to the office the next morning. When I arrived that Thursday morning, the office nurse told me they were having complications arranging my home health care with an agency and hospital admission was necessary. They were hopeful I'd be in and out in a short amount of time, but my freedom was contingent upon what the hospital care coordinator could work out before the end of business on Friday. One-week-old Brystol and I checked back into the postpartum wing for wound care.
The nurses on the wing were surprisingly so excited to have me back. Most of them had never dealt with wound care and were excited for the opportunity to do something new. The nurse educator came in and taught them about equipment, wound cleansers and skin prep products, then directed three nurses as they packed the wound with a wet-to-dry dressing (which is essentially a 4x4 gauze soaked in sterile water, then packed into the wound using a long cotton tipped applicator).
They packed the wound three more times before midday Friday, and at that time, a wound care nurse came in to examine my wound and make her recommendation. She observed that the zealous postpartum nurses packed my wound so well that they opened up two three-inch long tunnels underneath the side portions of the incisions -- the portions that appeared to be completely healed. Essentially, the entire c-section incision housed a hematoma -- no part of it was healing as well as we thought.
Because of the tunnels, the wound care nurse recommended a Wound Vac, which is just that -- a vacuum for wounds. I have the ActiVac in particular. The Wound Vac is apparently a wonderful contraption. Because it both wicks (or rather, sucks) away drainage and provides negative pressure on the edges of a wound, it speeds healing time quite dramatically. Instead of healing taking a minimum of four to six weeks, and potentially more, healing with a Wound Vac could take four weeks or less.
The wound care nurse packed my abdomen with the Wound Vac sponges, the care coordinator found a home health care agency to care for me after my release from the hospital, and a KCI nurse delivered a portable unit to my hospital room. I was set to go home by dinnertime.
At this point, the plan for care includes dressing changes in my home every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Other than that, I just wear a gurgly vacuum that slurps all day and all night. As for the vacuum, it's cumbersome, it's uncomfortable, and wearing a constant contraption is not at all what I had in mind for my postpartum days.
In many ways, I feel trapped and burdened by this vacuum, both physically and emotionally. In other ways, I'm grateful for the burden -- it causes me sit and be still, it forces me to do less and to rely more, and it makes me very happy that I was so intent on plowing through "The List" while I was free to lift my arms above my head and bend at the waist (both of which I am now not allowed to do). Despite this new challenge, I'm so grateful that I'm bearing this physical burden and not Brystol. Overall, we're both healthy, and have much to be thankful for. I have been given grace enough for this, and even this -- this too shall pass.
On Saturday, the nurses began stretching the time between doses of pain medicine, and by evening, I began experiencing increasing pain around the c-section incision. All the nurses and the doctor said my incision looked good and attributed my increasing pain to my mobility. They suggested some rest and I began calling for the medicine a bit more frequently. By Sunday morning, the incision was quite sore. My OB rounded with me that day and said the pain was probably related to skin that had begun growing around the edges of the staples. He ordered the staple removal that day, but as the day progressed, my incision pain was bypassed by a terrible headache. My nurse again suggested rest and insisted that I delay or cancel visitors and take a nap instead. I tried resting, but the headache grew increasingly worse.
After being observed by two nurses and meeting with the anesthesiologist, it was determined that I was experiencing a spinal headache. Evidently, the many spinal attempts made by the CRNA left a wound that wasn't sealing or healing properly. To correct the issue, I had to have a blood patch administered. James and Brystol stayed in the hospital room while I was wheeled back to L&D. There, the anesthesiologist and another CRNA worked together -- the doctor administered a local anesthesia and probed around my spine until he found the wound. Despite the local, I felt a throb with each push. Meanwhile, the CRNA prepared a sterile field on my hand and withdrew a vial of blood. When the doctor found the right location, he injected the sterile blood into the location in my spine. Literally, after only a few minutes, the intense headache was completely gone. I had a "hangover headache" for the rest of the evening, but overall, I felt so much better.
The incision, however, it still hurt like crazy! The nurse tried to dismiss the pain, suggesting I rest instead of having the staples removed, but as the evening progressed, I could no longer bear the pain. The nurse came in with her little bag of tools and said the staple removal would feel similar to eyebrow plucking. She couldn't have been more wrong. The removal was so much more painful than leaving them in place, but it was something that had to be done. I did feel relief once it was over.
The nurse was puzzled by all the pain, but she again just said the skin had begun growing over the edges. Perhaps that was the answer. The next morning, I had my final check by the rounding doctor and my lovely incision was complimented once again. The paperwork for discharge was submitted, and by lunchtime, I was on my way home.
We arrived home and began to settle in, and within a few minutes, a hungry baby needed nursing and I sat down to care for her. As I reached across my body to grab a pillow to my left, I felt an unzipping way down low. Instantly, my lap was warm with blood and fluid. I pressed my hand to the wound, not fully understanding what had happened, and began to call for James who was in the shower. James took the baby from my arms and called the doctor to find out what we should do. Marcie examined the opening -- my frantic mind imagined her looking for body parts. I felt relief when she told me she just saw an opening on my surgery scar -- not intestines spilling out.
The nurse at the doctor's office told us to come in right away, so after twenty tumultuous minutes at home, we were off again. The doctor said I must have developed a hematoma -- a collection of fluid and blood -- behind the incision. The pressure of the hematoma combined with me turning across my body caused the incision to open up. He mashed around on it and forced it to drain some, then sent me home with instructions to let it keep draining. I was to come back two days later to have it packed.
By Wednesday, the draining slowed. I went in to have the wound packed and discovered the plan was to have the wound packed two to three times each day. Home health care would have to be ordered and healing was projected to take 4-6 weeks. Since a nurse likely wouldn't be in my home by that night, I scheduled a time to come back to the office the next morning. When I arrived that Thursday morning, the office nurse told me they were having complications arranging my home health care with an agency and hospital admission was necessary. They were hopeful I'd be in and out in a short amount of time, but my freedom was contingent upon what the hospital care coordinator could work out before the end of business on Friday. One-week-old Brystol and I checked back into the postpartum wing for wound care.
The nurses on the wing were surprisingly so excited to have me back. Most of them had never dealt with wound care and were excited for the opportunity to do something new. The nurse educator came in and taught them about equipment, wound cleansers and skin prep products, then directed three nurses as they packed the wound with a wet-to-dry dressing (which is essentially a 4x4 gauze soaked in sterile water, then packed into the wound using a long cotton tipped applicator).
They packed the wound three more times before midday Friday, and at that time, a wound care nurse came in to examine my wound and make her recommendation. She observed that the zealous postpartum nurses packed my wound so well that they opened up two three-inch long tunnels underneath the side portions of the incisions -- the portions that appeared to be completely healed. Essentially, the entire c-section incision housed a hematoma -- no part of it was healing as well as we thought.
Because of the tunnels, the wound care nurse recommended a Wound Vac, which is just that -- a vacuum for wounds. I have the ActiVac in particular. The Wound Vac is apparently a wonderful contraption. Because it both wicks (or rather, sucks) away drainage and provides negative pressure on the edges of a wound, it speeds healing time quite dramatically. Instead of healing taking a minimum of four to six weeks, and potentially more, healing with a Wound Vac could take four weeks or less.
The wound care nurse packed my abdomen with the Wound Vac sponges, the care coordinator found a home health care agency to care for me after my release from the hospital, and a KCI nurse delivered a portable unit to my hospital room. I was set to go home by dinnertime.
At this point, the plan for care includes dressing changes in my home every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Other than that, I just wear a gurgly vacuum that slurps all day and all night. As for the vacuum, it's cumbersome, it's uncomfortable, and wearing a constant contraption is not at all what I had in mind for my postpartum days.
In many ways, I feel trapped and burdened by this vacuum, both physically and emotionally. In other ways, I'm grateful for the burden -- it causes me sit and be still, it forces me to do less and to rely more, and it makes me very happy that I was so intent on plowing through "The List" while I was free to lift my arms above my head and bend at the waist (both of which I am now not allowed to do). Despite this new challenge, I'm so grateful that I'm bearing this physical burden and not Brystol. Overall, we're both healthy, and have much to be thankful for. I have been given grace enough for this, and even this -- this too shall pass.
Sporting the ActiVac
"Then Jesus said, 'Come to me,
all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens,
and I will give you rest...
Let me teach you,
because I am humble and gentle at heart,
and you will find rest for your souls.'"
Matthew 11:28-29
Bright Eyes
Brystol, though still very sleepy most of the time, has had some wonderful moments of alertness lately. We all get so excited when she rouses from her slumber to look around for a while. Her bright eyes are so lovely! If I were her, though, I'd keep my eyes mostly shut too. Looking out at the four of us gathered around her is surely rather disturbing. Here she is at ten days old.
Waking Up
Finding Her Hands
Who Are These People?
Bright Eyes
Pretty Girl
Big Yawn
Kisses
Winding Down
All Done!
Monday, August 3, 2009
Daddy's Girl
James has been waiting for a baby to cuddle for a long, long while.
Brystol fills his arms perfectly...
This picture is a happy accident.
Somehow I caught them making the same silly face!
Daddy loves his baby girl.
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Baby Day
Our darling little Brystol is now ten days old. Where has the time gone?
A Baby Day update is long overdue.
The night before delivery, I was up all night long wrapping up a few things on "The List." James, to no avail, insisted that I sleep, but I knew I wouldn't, I couldn't. I was too nervous, too excited -- there was far too much anticipation to even lay down and close my eyes. I'm sleepless the night before a vacation, so why he thought the night before meeting our long-awaited baby would be any different, I'll never know. That long night was very productive, and while I left a few things undone, I went to the hospital that Baby Day morning feeling very satisfied with my progress.
We left for the hospital at 5:00 A.M. on Thursday morning and arrived about thirty minutes before our scheduled arrival time. We were so excited! We couldn't believe our day had come -- finally! The surgery nurse had my triage room already set up and began checking me in early. Not long after hooking me up to the monitor, she asked if I could feel the irritability in my uterus. I'd had a couple of very strong contractions on the drive over, but nothing that I would have rushed into L&D for. However, all the movement on the monitor behind James (the yellow line) might have sent me in for a labor check even later that day. Thank goodness for good timing!
Everything became very real to James once he put on the blue scrubs. James obsessed over scrubs nearly the whole pregnancy. He even considered buying his own pair of A&M scrubs just for the occasion. He grew visibly more and more excited pulling all the blue on over his regular clothes. I, however, was not very happy about my big blue hat. James said I looked like a line worker in a cafeteria -- once again with the tenderness.
After meeting various doctors, nurses, and techs in the triage, I walked to the OR. I can honestly say that my excitement was replaced with fear and dread. I felt more nauseated with each and every step. By the time I climbed on to the operating table, I was confident I would either vomit all over the place or experience a "Code Brown," if you know what I mean.
I calmed a bit until the CRNA began trying to insert the spinal. I've had several spinals and two epidurals during my reproductive life and personally don't find them to be a very big deal. I wasn't really nervous about the insertion at all, however, as she attempted to place the spinal, I kept experiencing a shooting pain in my right hip. Though I told her what she was doing didn't feel right, she kept doing it -- eight more times. It wasn't until I began sobbing so hard that another attempt could not be made that the MD took over and tried again. He moved to the space above where the CRNA was working and found a satisfactory location placed the spinal with one very simple, very painless insertion.
Here I am feeling the affects of the anesthesia and just waiting to get the show on the road. The aforementioned CRNA stayed with me to monitor the dosages of medication, and though she was incapable of placing my spinal, she was quite competent from there on out. The kept me well informed of everything going on around me and was quite tender with her care.
(As a side note, three days after delivery I ended up with a terrible spinal headache that knocked me flat out. It came on slowly over the course of the day, but eventually, the nurses found me crying and writhing in pain that I classified a 10 out of 10 on the pain scale. I'd surprised them by being up and active the day of my c-section, so they knew that headache was serious stuff. They immediately called in the anesthesiologist, and in the end, I had to have a blood patch inserted to repair the work the CRNA had done.)
Moments later, I heard comments about how much fluid I had (three liters, where one is normal). A couple of people mentioned seeing a baby bottom. My doctor exclaimed, "It's a girl!" It was all over -- what relief!
Brystol initially had a good strong cry...
... but she gulped down some fluid on the way out and was very, very gurgly. She was suctioned in the OR, but she needed more care. A few moments later, a NICU nurse came in to say they'd need to assess her in the NICU and monitor her breathing for a while before they could let me have her. Two to four hours was the expected timeframe.
Chubby baby -- so, so cute!
Weight rounded up to 7 pounds 11 ounces
Seeing that sweet face for the first time...
Daddy in Scrubs
Wiped Out after the NICU Assessment
Brystol cleared her lungs right away, so her NICU assessment was much shorter than anticipated. They ran a catheter into her intestines to make sure no fluid would be found there. When it wasn't, they brought her to me in the recovery room within the hour.
Holding her was a dream come true...
The announcement sign that hung on the door or my hospital room:
"You have turned my mourning into joyful dancing."
Psalm 30:11
Later in the day, Gracie and Bub came to the hospital to meet their long-awaited baby sister. They were both so amazed by her. Gracie, while so excited, seemed to behave like her expectations had been met -- she knew all along she'd have a sister. Bub, on the other hand, was so shocked. He told my mom he couldn't believe we had a baby. Instantly, he was head-over-heels completely in love. They both were.
Sweet Friends and Family Shared Our Joy
Admiring Our Miracle
We're a Happy Family of Five
"Praise the Lord!
I will thank the Lord with all my heart
as I meet with his godly people.
How amazing are the deeds of the Lord!
All who delight in him should ponder them.
Everything he does reveals his glory and majesty.
His righteousness never fails.
He causes us to remember his wonderful works.
How gracious and merciful is our Lord!"
Psalm 111:1-4 NLT
"He settles the barren woman in her home
as a happy mother of children.
Praise the LORD."
Psalm 113:9 NIV
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