Pain Management and Smelly Nelly

Hallo, friends!  I've tiptoed away from Ava Leigh's bedside for a moment while she's sleeping peacefully to let you know how her recovery is progressing. 

Her pacifier has really had to double as a stress ball today as Ava's pain management was worked out through the course of the afternoon.  She currently seems very contented with a dose of Tylenol keeping her dulled from the discomfort of her surgery.  A half dose of Morphine seemed to slow her breathing a bit too much this morning, and coupling that with the effects of the anesthesia fading from her system, she hasn't wet a diaper on her own yet.  We've been reassured this is not an unusual side effect, and we've seen the results of her kidneys working through the bag attached to her catheter, but since we're impatient to do all the typical parent-y things like change diapers and wipe up smelly things, we're counting the hours until she's able to make our soggy dreams come true. 

Otherwise, today has been peaceful and blessedly uneventful for our little baby bird.... we've been grateful for the lull in action.  It's so soul-satisfying just to sit and rest our cheek on the side of her bed and listen to the rhythm of her respiration squeaking past her nasal tube.  I could just watch her little chest rise and fall for hours.  I don't know if I'll ever watch American Idol again.  Who cares if you can yodel?!?  Dude, my baby can just breathe and I'm mesmerized.

And speaking of joy and comfort, Ava has a new little friend.  Meet Smelly Nelly!

She sleeps with me at night so she can carry my Mommy-scent on her dress and comfort Ava in her sleep.  I can't wait to be as close to her as Smelly Nelly gets to be right now.  How can I be so jealous of a stuffed napkin?!

Stay tuned for night-night pictures.....

luv,
Mummers

Roll That Beautiful Baby Bean Footage!

Hush, little birdy...

Who taught her the Olan Mills pose from 1992?!

"A little to the left...turn....turn....tilt.... Now freeze!"

Nothin' yummier than baby fat. Numnumnumnum.

This is why she's known as "the Big Baby" in the NICU pod.  

Gotta tag your territory around here.  A girl's bed is her castle, and Ava's is fit for a princess.

"Thanks for visiting my crib, yo.  Peace out!"

Stay tuned for surgery recovery updates...

Xoxox

Ava Leigh

Surgeon's Update, 11:45 am

According to Ava's surgeon, at this moment our little girl is being prepared to recover in the NICU from her laproscopic duodenal atresia surgery.  He said her procedure was uneventful AND successful, which is exactly what we hoped to hear from him.  They expect that she will be breathing on her own very shortly, which in itself we think is a huge accomplishment for one so brand-new!  We thank God for that strong little pair of new lungs! 

Daddy's quote from Dr. Dasinger:  "She coasted through it."

It's hard to believe that at nearly 48 hours old, our Ava-bird has been through so much....  it seems like we've crammed two years of worrying, learning, sleeplessness, nurturing and nursing into the past two days alone!  We never would've been able to hold up if not for our beloved family, supportive and ever-present church, and the persistently helpful friends from work and our community who have kept us propped up, fed and encouraged during our weakest moments.  We love you, and Ava Leigh thanks you for keeping her Mommy and Daddy by her side!

AVA LEIGH ARRIVES!

Welcome to the world, darling daughter!  You were born at 11:53 am today, January 14th.  We heard your first miraculous cry before you were even completely born.

You were wide- eyed alert and intent on wrapping your tiny fingers around mine from the beginning. You spent your first few minutes contentedly affixed on mine and your Daddy's beaming faces, and you made our world stand still.

You are seven pounds and nineteen and a half inches of perfection.

And apparently you're not a tremendous fan of hats.

So much to ponder upon during your first day of existence... 

So many arrangements and judgement calls to be made...

Still, we praise The Great Physician for the discovery that YOUR HEART IS WHOLE and functional.

Ours overflow!

And what's more, the stomach issue we were originally concerned with will be treated with a minimally invasive surgery sometime tomorrow.  You'll be filling up diapers before we can say Huggies!  I've never in my life looked forward to wiping a little bum so much!

Dear Ava,

Dear Ava,

It's been a week and a day since I've been home on bed rest, trying to slow the progress of these early contractions so you'll be born late enough to minimize your chances of fighting lung problems on top of anything else you might be facing.  Our little bun needs to be good and DONE.  

So since our release from the hospital last Thursday, my whole world has been my bedroom window for the past eight days.  Not that I'm ungrateful for the view that I have from our bed.  It's pleasant to wake up to a world of frosted pastureland and ice-blue sky and watch the squirrels pitch themselves recklessly from branch to branch.  The neighbors' horses pass by the window, too, and graze as slowly as statues while I lose all track of time watching them.  And then there's all the reading, games and company (both human and canine) that's kept me pleasantly diverted from focusing on how numb my butt is.  Not to mention plenty of time to simply sit in peace and allow life to unfold slowly around me.  I don't require constant stimulation.

* Side note: this should've been posted a few days ago... but the bedrest confinement as of late has been almost more than I can handle and I failed to post this in a timely manner.  Her adoring husband, Jason*

I could complain about how easy it is to become bored, but if I was, it would be no one's fault but my own.  Bed rest has been an exercise in mindfully choosing my activities in a limited capacity and taking pleasure in simply having someone to talk to or an enormous well-behaved dog to snuggle with while I listen to the classical radio station.  Or just to practice turning my worries into opportunities to pray.

Psalm 4:4 - "Stand in awe, and sin not: commune with your own heart upon your bed, and be still.  Selah."

And then there's you, little squiggleworm.  You're a never ending source of entertainment.  That is, if you can call huffing and readjusting through contractions entertainment.  You poor thing... I can only know how it feels to me when you're plastered to the underside of my ribs like a frat kid Saran wrapped to a wall.  It can't feel like a vacation to have a foot jammed underneath my ribs or your behind stuck out and frozen in midair for all to behold.  (And on that note, none of us will EVER forget the ultrasound appointment where you looked like you stood straight up out of my belly and greeted the tech and her trainee, who gasped, "Are they SUPPOSED to do that?!")

But for all that you may struggle with when you're born, the energy behind these defiant moves are a comfort to me; they assure me of how strong and well-formed you already are.  I keep your most recent ultrasound pictures in an album on my bedside table so I can remind myself everyday of how perfect you already are, and how much you've already thrilled us by being exactly who you are before you could do anything to further inspire our love.

When I show our visitors these pictures, I tell them that I'm so grateful that you seem to look so much more like your daddy than me, because I would rather see the person I love more than I'd want to see a reflection of myself.  Not to mention that he's kinda the looks of the two of us. I'm.... grateful for my skill with cosmetics.

I had better wrap up this iScribble so daddy can carry this pad from our tech-droughted house and download this letter to your blog at work.  Honey Boo Boo Dog says hello, by the way.  I wish you could know how devoted to you she already is.  She stays right with me no matter how immobile I am, and sometimes she slides up next to me and gently places her enormous head right on you like she knows there's two of us to protect.  I think she DOES know.  

So daddy will leave me in her care for a short time while he situates things at the office, and you and I and Honey will remain here all tucked up and warm while watching the morning sun move across the quilt.  It's quiet time, for now.

Notes from bed

A few words from labor and delivery:

Active labor contractions: yow.... But not deathly painful.

Ice chips:  manna.

Epidural:  a needle-borne miracle.

Barfing:  unexpected side effect of epidural.

Keep on truckin' , Mini!

Luv,
Mom

Happy Anniversary

At the risk of sounding like the voiceover from a beloved 80's movie, life happens fast.  Don't blink.  You might go into labor and not realize it.

I'm typing this from the confines of bedrest on our fifth wedding anniversary (which is Saturday, June 5th for the sake of being precise, since this entry probably won't be Wifi-projected to the world until Jason can post it for me tomorrow).  The morning still hasn't approached the dawn, and I'm laying here with a head tumbling full of questions.  

For instance:

Why is my brain at its clearest and most creative when my fingers are at their stiffest?  (You should see me looking like Mr. Burns, all bent over and pecking away at this iPad.  Apparently joint stiffness has an act in the pregnancy symptom circus.  Who knew?)

How is it that the cheap clutch of stargazer lilies that I bought a week ago from Wal-Mart have held up so much better than any expensive bouquet I've ever had the pleasure to enjoy?  (I have a special fondness for their fragrance... They remind me of spending time with Jason early in our relationship when we spent hours hanging out at a funeral home after work.  There were always flowers there, and the wild, pungent scent of stargazer lilies was always in the air.)

(And if you don't personally know us and you're reading this in another country, conducting a courtship within a funeral facility is culturally acceptable in the United States of America.)

And finally, what can I do to make today feel like a special occasion without compromising this horizontal position?  I certainly didn't expect to be in the early stages of labor three weeks before Ava's due date.  THAT news certainly was a face slap with a wet herring during our checkup on Thursday.  I suppose that I assumed that in the midst of all of the unpredictable circumstances swirling around Ava Leigh's health and development, the least that fate owed us was a timely delivery.  But try to argue that with a dilating cervix. 

After one more ultrasound with the perinatal specialist at Baptist Hospital, we feel like we have the clearest idea possible of what kind of challenges our daughter might be facing upon birth, and since babies born earlier have a higher incidence of respiratory complications than those born closer to their due date, we are doing everything within our power to encourage our little bun to remain in her oven.  Better development is at least one little gift we can give her.

So here I am, flat on my back, debating whether or not to wake my dear husband of five years and beg sweetly for a bagel.  Undoubtedly, I'll be requesting much more of him in the coming days as he attempts to juggle our normal responsibilities in one hand and my random requests in another.  Will you play Scrabble with me? ... Can I have another helping of turnip greens? ... Would you move Honey Boo Boo Dog off my leg? - My feet are turning colors and I'm losing sensation in my lesser toes...etc....etc...

I think I'll let him sleep a little longer.  He's going to need it, and it's a rare and precious feeling to linger here with him and not have to dash off somewhere. 

And my feet aren't completely purple yet.