When Ethan was born, I wish I realized then how lucky I was.  He was SUCH an easy baby.  He was born 5 weeks premature and right from the get-go he was a good eater, good sleeper, and when he was awake, he was so content!  Such an easy baby.

Right around maybe 6 months, he started doing something that now I realize may be unusual, but back then I thought nothing of it.  He would ONLY sleep in his crib at night.  Sure, he'd doze off in his car seat, but other than that, it was his crib or nothing.  We'd take him up north to Jay's parents house and he would go from being a great sleeper at home to a nightmare up north.  I vividly recall nights sitting up with him in the recliner because he absolutely would not sleep in his pack and play or anywhere else.

Thinking back, I also realized that while most babies love the swing, he hated it.  I mean HATED it.  It wasn't that he got bored with it fast, I mean as soon as you put him in it and started swinging, he was a basket case.  It was a huge waste of space because we never used it with him.

Around the age of 2 is when I got more concerned.  One memory I always think of is when we were at a birthday party.  It was summer and there were lots of kids and kid activities.  MY kid, though, wanted to play with the ice in the cooler.  Granted, most 2 year olds would be fascinated with ice cubes in a cooler, especially on a hot day, but this wasn't my house and wasn't my cooler.  I distracted him with various other activities but his heart was set on that cooler and nothing more.  NOTHING I did could convince him otherwise, so he threw the biggest temper tantrum ever.  SO big, I had to remove him from the party to hopefully calm him down.  SO big that another dad at the party (Jay was not there with me) came out to try to help me to no avail.  It was strange, embarrassing, and resulted in me leaving the party with him without saying bye to anyone.

There were other instances that I can recall such as how if he decided he didn't want to do something, he didn't just sulk like a "normal" kid might.  He would, as we call it, shut down.  And nothing would bring him out of it.  Shutting down usually meant that he would refuse to walk or talk.  He'd keep his head down, shoulders slumped.  You could try to bribe him with toys and treats in exchange for good, cooperative behavior but nothing would work.  He was done and that was that.  The STRANGE part is the places and events that he'd shut down at:  zoos, birthday parties, etc.  Places most kids had a blast at and eagerly looked forward to.  My kid?  Dreaded it.  HATED it.  Wanted to leave and wanted to leave fast.

I'd hear other parents say how their kids were nightmares at home but they were "so thankful" they were good in public.  My child was the opposite.  A dream child at home:  he would entertain himself for hours and was just generally very pleasant.  In public was a whole different story and I hated that most people rarely saw the Ethan I knew so well.

I knew something wasn't right I just didn't know what it was.  I decided he was "quirky" and I would just always have to be extra sensitive to his needs and make excuses when he'd shut down.

When Allison was born, it really made me see how different he was.  Now she is by no means perfect, but she just had a different outlook.  Birthday parties were FUN!  The zoo?  She had a blast!  She loved to be out and about and she equally loved being at home.  If she didn't get her way with something and it upset her, she could easily be redirected to something else and she would soon forget what it was she was upset about.
Right around when Ethan turned 7 and even more so at the age of 8 is when I really started getting stressed by his behavior.  He was at the age where society expected more out of him.  To see an 8 year old sulk all the time, I heard a lot of, "what he needs is a good spanking!" or people staring at him as he pouted in a corner while others were having fun.  It was embarrassing and made me so sad for him.  I will admit, it was also HORRIBLY frustrating and I frequently would want to grab him and shout, "WHY ARE YOU ACTING THIS WAY?" ...but of course, I didn't.

Just a few months ago, he stopped sleeping well at night. Instead he spent his time in bed when he should be sleeping, stressing about things.  Things most 8 year olds don't even think about.  Things like where he will go to college and how he will decide where to go.  Or about having to leave home or Jay or I dying and leaving him alone.  It drove him to tears and he would frequently be up until after midnight tossing and turning.

I finally took action.  He saw a doctor who specializes in children with behavior issues.  He is medicated now on an antidepressant, which made me hesitant but the way the doctor put it is:  If he was diabetic, would I deny him insulin, because it's a medication, too.  Of course not!  I worried he would become a zombie and walk around in a daze.  She assured me she would never allow that.  So we took the plunge and started the medication.  She also approved melatonin at night to help him sleep.  The first huge change we saw was the melatonin.  The first night he took it, he was sound asleep by 9 PM.  The next morning he woke up happy instead of grumpy.  He was friendly with his little sister, who he normally would snap at.  It was amazing and a complete 180 of what he normally dealt with.

Gradually we started to see small effects from the antidepressant as well.  He still prefers to be home and in a quiet environment, but today REALLY proved to me how far he has come.  For one, I had to wake him up to leave the house.  Before, this would be near impossible.  Before, he would likely refuse to even move and I would physically be unable to force him as he is over 60 pounds and like a stubborn mule when he chooses not to do something.  Today, while he was tired, he got up and got dressed, and even helped me get things together.  We then spent the entire day outside the house.  The first was a play date with mostly children he had never met before, and most were younger than him.  He played the entire time, and had a great time. At one point he got hurt on a swing set, which again, in the past would have resulted in him insisting on going home and the day would be done, but instead today, he shed a small tear, asked for an ice pack, sat down for a little bit while he "recovered", then went back to playing.  He was a little sad to leave, but only because he wanted to swim and we didn't have time.  We then went to another play date and he was bouncy and happy, and had a great time.  He was social with everyone and very cooperative.  Again, when it was time to leave, he was sad, but only because he was having fun and wanted to stay longer.

I am so proud of my boy.  He is different and still quirky, but he has made such amazing changes.  He still has his times where he is challenging, especially if he is hungry, but he is mostly your normal 8 year old boy.  It's like he has a new chance at life and I am so thankful for that.  I am so thankful that people can see him for who he truly is:  smart, funny, so loving, and sometimes obnoxious (as 8 year old boys tend to be).  I have always felt him and I had a deep connection, different than what I have with my other kids and it's likely because I have the same issues with depression and anxiety.  I "get" him.  I understand how hard it is and how it's not something you can just change.  You can WANT to change, but your mind just won't let you.  I never wanted my baby to be on antidepressants, but looking back, it has made such an amazing, profound difference in his life.  He is happy now, and is no longer missing out on experiences that every child should.

I love you, Ethan.  To the moon and back.

A devastating miscarriage that broke my heart into a million pieces but helped me realize that my family was not complete.

 

Starting a new job, just days after finding out I was pregnant again only 4 weeks after my miscarriage.

 

Learning at 25 weeks pregnant that my beloved OB was not comfortable taking on the rest of my case with my newly diagnosed cardiomyopathy.

 

Becoming high risk.

 

Doing a stress echo at 30 weeks pregnant and wearing a holter monitor for a month.

 

Doctors appointments every week, either OB or cardiology.

 

Non-stress tests  twice a week for 2 months.

 

Finding out my baby boy had an arrhythmia.

 

Frequent failed non-stress tests, leading to biophysical profiles to make sure the baby was okay.

 

Leaving work 2 months early due to the fear that I might need to be induced if the baby stops thriving.

 

Endless prayers and tears, hoping you would be okay.

 

 

 

 

 

 

You were so worth it.



38 weeks pregnant, and in true Laura fashion, I have managed to gain approximately 50 pounds this pregnancy! 

"So when Evan comes, he's probably going to get all the attention." -Ethan

Oh, my heart.

I love my children more than anything in the world.  They are my everything.  But the things I wish I could get my firstborn to understand are as follows:
Ethan, YOU are the little being that gave me the title I wanted my entire life:  mom.  If there is one thing I knew, even as a little girl, it was that I wanted to be a mother.  Soon after daddy and I got married, we knew we were ready.  You were SO wanted, long before you were even conceived.

You entered the world in true Ethan fashion.  On your own time, at your own pace.  The feelings I remember most when bringing you home was how big of a job I had now.  You were so tiny, less than 6 pounds, but all of your needs relied on me.  Being fed, changed, held, loved, you could do none of it yourself.  It was such a HUGE responsibility!  I remember realizing that my role in this life became so much more significant.  I had to do everything in my power to make sure you never went without.  It is exactly why when you were 6 months old, I went back to school to be a nurse. 

You and I were buddies.  I took you everywhere.  People would comment on how I had you out in public so soon, but wherever I went, I wanted you with me.  We were one.

I remember the struggles of being in nursing school.  The stress and tears that were shed weekly.  I remember your sweet face, giving me that nudge to keep pushing forward.

I remember the day my nursing school friends and I all graduated and we met for lunch at Buffalo Wild Wings.  I brought you with me, because you were the biggest reason I finished. 

I remember finding out I was pregnant with your sister.  We tried to conceive her for over a year, so finding out I was pregnant was such joy and happiness, but I had this tiny speck of worry in my heart:  I didn't want to lose you as my only.  I never wanted you to feel left out or less important.  You were such a good sport, though.  You were only 5 when she was born and I clearly remember when you came in to the delivery room to meet her, carrying a single rose with a card you wrote all by yourself:  "Love, Ethan", written in a way any 5 year old would.  I cried, because I was just so happy to see you.

You've had your struggles and we've had some challenges, but I never want you to forget:  you are amazing.  I adore you and your quirky ways.  You are the smartest little boy I know, and I can see you going so far in whatever you choose to do.  Soon you will be the big brother to two little siblings, but you will forever hold such a special place in my heart. 

I pray you never, ever forget that. 

I love you, sweet boy.

37 week this week and still hanging in there!  Ever since my non-stress test last week, I have been contracting every 5-10 minutes.  They are never regular, and they aren't getting stronger, so it's just a nice little reminder of what is to come. 

I saw the cardiologist yesterday.  Because my heart is holding steady right now, no further interventions are needed before I deliver.  They will see me when I am in the hospital after delivery, and then I see them about 2 weeks after delivery for a referral to an electrophysiologist.  Apparently what they want to do is purposely put my heart into an arrhythmia.  Depending on how hard or how easy it is to create will determine what type of treatment I will need.  If I can go into an arrhythmia easily, I will likely need to be on a medication.  If it's difficult, it will likely mean that I can just follow up with 2-D echo's every so often to check how my heart is.

Baby K is still showing signs of an arrhythmia as well.  His heart beats normal, then starts beating irregular.  I have no idea what the plan of care will be after his birth, but I am hoping it is something that corrects itself quickly.

My last ultrasound a week ago showed he was 5 pounds, 6 ounces.  On the smaller side, but consistent with how his growth has been all along.

Otherwise, things are moving along!  I am excited for his arrival but at the same time, I am enjoying the last few weeks of being a momma to 2.

Baby K update!

I am now 35 weeks.  I am doing non-stress tests twice a week and starting now, seeing a doctor weekly (before it was every other week).

My stress tests haven't been entirely reassuring.  The risk to the baby with my heart issue is that not enough oxygen will be supplied to him.  So far, he has grown beautifully, but as he gets bigger and I get bigger, the demand on the heart also get bigger.  During the non-stress tests, they want to see his heart rate increase with movement, then return to baseline.  His baseline is always a beautiful 135-140, but he rarely shows increased heart rate with movement (and he moves...a lot!).  He will occasionally, but not consistently.  What should only take about 20 minutes to see what is considered a reactive (good) test takes him about an hour.

Today he did really well on the stress test, and while the OB was pleased with how things are going so far, he made sure I understood that I am not out of the woods.  I still have to see the cardiologist before delivery and have a growth ultrasound next Tuesday to make sure he is doing okay.  They will measure him and assess his movement and breathing to make sure he is not in distress.  If, at any point, they detect distress, he will be induced, as the risk of being born early will outweigh the risk of staying inside me and lacking oxygen.  Fortunately, I trust these doctors entirely, and I am so confident that everything will be okay.  I won't lie, though... when this baby is safely in my arms, the weight of the world will be taken off my shoulders.  I am anxious to know that he will be 100% okay.

Today my co-workers put on a baby shower for me and another co-worker who is due a week before me.  It was wonderful!  Amazing food, adorable and clever presents, and just a really, really nice time.  It has been such a whirlwind of a year:  getting pregnant and miscarrying, leaving a job after only 8 months, starting a new job, getting pregnant again.... it's been a roller coaster of emotions, and I think I can finally safely say that I feel so much peace and contentment with everything.  I can finally look back on the past year and see how all of it fits together.  I miss the clinic job I had and I think about it on a daily basis.  There were so many wonderful things about that job, I have zero regrets about exploring that area of work.  A lot of laughs and a lot of new experiences which I will forever be thankful for, but it also taught me so much about myself.  Leaving an entire health care system that I never saw myself leaving was HARD.  I felt a sense of homesickness on a daily basis for months after I left.  The open arms and new friendships that have developed over the past many months, though, has shown me that sometimes things must fall apart so better things can fall together.

And things are definitely, DEFINITELY falling together.

I had a follow-up appointment with my new OB today.  I am 31 weeks exactly.  The stress test I did last week showed improvement, which is wonderful.  He explained it to me like this:  cardiomyopathy (which is my diagnosis) has a list "a mile long" of different types, and figuring out what type you have can only be done by biopsy, which is not something I have had.  Some cardiomyopathy's are lifelong and never change, some get worse, and some get better.  Mine appears to be getting better.  The question and concern is what caused it in the first place, which again, I will likely never know, but getting better is always a good thing.

The semi-frustrating part is the cardiologist I saw 2 weeks ago never sent a report to my OB, so there was no plan of care developed between the two of them.  My OB said he would get in touch with the cardiologist to figure out what the plan was, but from what he could see, he sees no reason at this point to do anything drastic, such as taking the baby out early.  I asked if this meant I could go into labor on my own rather than inducing even once I am full-term, and he said yes (!!!).  This was great news to me, as this has been my plan all along and I would love to follow through with it.

Baby's heart rate is in the 150's and he moves like CRAZY.  My blood pressure was a little elevated, but I blame that on the fact that the parking structure is 8 miles away from the doctor's office, and I have gained a bazillion pounds to lug around (about 40 so far, and I have 2 more months to go..."go big or go home" is my pregnancy motto.) 

So all is well!  Couldn't have asked for a better report, and as usual, I am prepared for whatever hand I am dealt and I will deal with whatever happens.