providential good fortune

I went to a small Christian school for my high school years.  We had this really neat guy for our bible teacher.  He was very thought provoking, to the point where it was sometimes frustrating. (at the time, though, I always thought he was argumentative.  Now, I see he was trying to get us to explore our own belief system and not the belief system of our parents.)

Anyway, one of his big beefs was with the word "luck" and how often we use it.  He preferred  instead, to use the term "providential good fortune!"  Meaning the care of God in your life, resulting in something good. 

At the time, I sort of thought it was silly.   All caught up in semantics.  If what I intend doesn't change with the words I use, what difference does it make? 

This past week, I some how stumbled upon a website called doula match.  Its a website that matches up local doulas with clients.  Its free, though they ask for donations.  I usually am pretty skeptical of things like that.  But this time I thought "meh.  why not?  I doubt I'll get any calls from this, but I'll put it out there."

I had my information on for all of two days before I got my first response.  An email from some one looking for a doula for her hopeful VBAC in June (um, score!  This is totally one of my passions!) With in a few days, I also received a phone call from another woman interested in my services, who was referred to me by Glenni, who runs A Nurturing Moment (a baby/maternity boutique here in town.) and the blog where I posted on MSPI.   The same day, I was contacted by another woman who found me on Doula Match.

This weekend I met with two of the three women, and I felt like we really hit it off.  I'm hoping they thought so, too, and I can get this doula train a going. ;)

 I can see the hand of God guiding me where he wants me to be.  I don't know if I'll be a doula for years and years, but, right now, I am certain this is what I'm supposed to do now.  Its a pretty freeing feeling.  I'd say I was feeling lucky, but I am really feeling providential good fortune. 

my hotdog got run over by a reindeer grocery cart

Yesterday went like this:

Take Isaac to gymnastics.  While at gymnastics, he has a coughing fit.  I, then, realize that  I forgot to give him his nebulizer.  (crap!)  Every one is giving us the stink eye.  You know, because he's gagging from heavy coughing and sounds like he may vomit.

While we are at gymnastics, Eliza seems to be walking funny.  Like crooked.  She seems to be a tad congested, so I'm starting to wonder if she has fluid in her ears and is just thrown off.

I gather the children up and head to Costco.  I love, love, and adore Costco.  Love it.  However, the major downside is that its on the other side of town.  There's no "good" way to get there.  Oh, there's a straight shot road from my house to Costco, but there's about 11 hundred stop lights between here and there.  (They're almost always red.  Especially when you're in a hurry!)

Eventually, I get to Costco.  I have intentions of getting hot dogs for lunch (mine with out a bun to be dairy free!) and then cruise around for a few grocery items, a gift for a friend, and Isaac's cool chair for his birthday. 

When I pull into the parking lot, I realized I forgot to pack Isaac's drink.  It wasn't a huge deal, since they sell drinks with the hot dog meals.  But, I usually bring him a sippy cup and forgo the pop/lemon aid and get him water.  I check my email and find that I got another doula job! (woot!!)

I grab the kids, throw them into a cart, and head in to return something.  We make our way to the food, buy our goodies, and move onward towards the awesomeness that is Costco at Christmas.  I find Isaac's chair (I was so worried it would be sold out!) and am confounded as to how to get it into my cart with the kids.  I move Isaac into the front seat, which he says he DOES NOT LIKE!  While he's shouting, I'm finagling the very large box into our cart, and my phone starts ringing.  I glance at the number and realize it is the big-kids' school.  I set the box down, ever so gently (bawaawa!) and talk to the school nurse.  O is crying/screaming/freaking out because her ear hurts. 

While I'm on the phone, Isaac tries to "help" and put his drink next to mine, in the back of the cart.  Except, he only has the arms of a 3 year old, and not Stretch Armstrong arms.  The drink falls 2 feet short of the actual cart, busts open, and spills its, very full, contents all over the floor. I hang up the phone, after telling the nurse I'll be there in.... um.... its lunch time and I'm at Costco, so... 45 minutes to an hour?  I have to find some one to come clean this mess up because my measly 10 paper napkins just isn't cutting it.  I'm searching around, and even find a friendly lady who is willing to help me find a worker.  I finally find a guy with a name tag, ask him if he works here, and tell him of my shame.  Thankfully, he takes care of it.

Shortly after, I make O a dr. appointment for 45 minutes from now.  That's all they have left.  I'll never make it in time to pick her up AND head to the doctor.  I enlist E's help.  (which sucks since he had to be out all day on Monday for O's growth hormone testing.)  He plans to pick her up and agrees to meet me at the doctor. 

Meanwhile, Eliza takes my bun less hot dog that's wrapped like a burrito in a piece of foil and tugs on it.  It rolls out of its packaging, and right onto the floor.  As I'm moving forward to get it, another person's cart runs right over it.  Cutting my hot dog in half. 

I rush through the line, pay for my things (which, after upon returning home, realize I forgot over half of my things.)  I have no lunch, and no time to buy a new hot dog.  So, I eat dried fruit and nuts for lunch.  Along with my diet coke.  Lunch of champions mommies.

Eliza screams almost the entire time in the car.  I make decent time, and get to the doctor on time.  While in the waiting room, Eliza seems to be getting sicker.  O's pediatric endocrinologist calls.   I take the call outside, but I can hear Eliza screaming for me as I walk out the door.  The doctor is calling to tell us that O's tests confirm a growth hormone deficiency.  He wants to schedule a MRI as soon as possible and get moving on growth hormone injections. 

I walk back into the waiting room, sort of in a daze.  Our favorite nurse calls us back.  She takes a few notes about O, glances at Eliza and says "oh no!  she looks sick!"  She is looking pretty sick.  Running a fever, too.

Our pediatrician comes in, looks in O's ear, declares an infection.  she also glances Eliza's way and says "she looks rather puney."  I asked her if she could just glance in her ears because she was walking funny earlier.  There's nothing in her ears, except Eliza's pure hatred of being messed with.  at all.  Especially when she's sick.  the dr. listens to her chest and it sounds yucky. Eliza gets her finger pricked (which she also hates, in case you were wondering!) and we are left with a diagnosis of it being viral, but to call if her fever spikes or her walking deal doesn't resolve in the next day or two.

On the way home, I'm starting to reflect on the Endocrinologist's call. 

I feel....relieved. 

 

But, also nervous. 

 

Relieved that all of the things we knew in our hearts were right.  Like how my breast milk WAS fatty enough when she was a baby and didn't grow.  How we DO feed her enough calories and fat.  How she isn't just tiny. 

 

But, nervous for what lies ahead. 

 

 Possibly daily injections.  Until puberty. 

 

Rapid growth. 

 

Big changes for her.  How will this affect her self image?  She's always been the smallest.  Always.  I would think, after almost 8 years, it'd start to be part of your identity.  How will that change when she starts growing 5 inches?  How will she see herself?  How will others see her?  (obviously, we want her to be the height she should be.  I'm not saying these things will change our course of action.  It just has me thinking.)  I imagine it would be similar to some one losing a lot of weight, or even gaining a lot of weight, in a short period. 

 

But, again, relieved.  Relieved to not have to do any more testing (other than the MRI.)

We arrive home and lay the littles down for naps.  When Eliza wakes up, her fever is up to 104.  I call the doctor's office.  Unfortunately, they left for the day ten minutes prior. 


We medicate both girls, and bathe and nurse and cuddle.  Praying prayers of thanksgiving for a treatable diagnosis.Praying tomorrow is filled with a peace that passes all understanding.  Praying the best for my baby girl O, and all of my kids.

It ended like that.

We need to find a doctor with a loyalty punch card

In the past 2 weeks:

Eliza- in for allergic reaction (she ate ranch dressing.) Also, on a different day, there for her 12 month check up.

Isaac- in for a hideous rash on his face that is not responding to, as of now, 4 different kind of medications.

Olivia- Height and weight check, along with blood work, and orders for a bone scan.


4 times in 2 weeks.  Numerous phone calls.  Plus, likely another visit to the dr. tomorrow for the baby, who has been throwing up for days, unable to keep anything but tiny amounts of breast milk down.

This.  This is the stuff that overwhelms me.  This is the stuff that makes me stop and think "maybe I AM done having children." even though I still really, really want another.  This is the stuff I sit and fret over at night, praying to God to heal my babies, and calm my anxious heart.

But, this is life.  Its our life.  Though it may seem sucky, I'm trying to find peace in the small things.  Like how I love the nurse at our pediatrician's office.  How my baby girl is actually cuddly and snugly, even though I hate the reason why.  How I got to spend some one-on-one girl time with my eldest while we waited for her bone scan.  How our family pictures on Saturday will be that much more unique and memorable with Zeke's facial prettiness. (I'm serious, here.  Its a story we can laugh about later, right??)

Its our life.

"Woo hoo"s and "Boohoo"s

Woo Hoo:
~I'm back on the couponing wagon, at least for the kids' foods.
~I went on a girl's night last night.  It was super fun! It was nice to catch up with friends.
~Isaac seems to be mostly potty trained!
~Eric took me out on Tuesday night and we got smart phones!!!!  (I know, I know, welcome to the 21st century.)
~I'm listening to ocean waves music on Pandora via my new phone.  Soothing music.
~I just drank a yummy dairy and soy free salted caramel latte, made by muah.
~Eliza is saying "mama"!
~Eliza is taking a few steps here and there. (It has happened more than once, so I guess I have to count it.)
~Eliza is waving, and saying "bye-bye".
~When Isaac spells his name aloud, he says "I-S-A-B-C" which cracks me up.  He insists its a "b" and not an "A".
~Now that I've been soy free for a while, Eliza is giving me 4 hour stretches of sleep at night.
~I got a doula client!  (This is a big woo hoo!)  I'd been praying/thinking about when, or even whether, I should get back into attending births.  Then, a lovely couple called me out of the blue- getting recommendations from two separate people. 
~The day after my meeting with my new doula client, my OBGYN asked for some of my business cards to pass out in her office for people asking for doulas.  Seriously! 
~The weather is cooler this weekend.
~School starts in a little over a week. (See below in 'boohoo's.)
~I ordered one of these in the blue for Eliza for "school" (if she's walking). I got it for $15!

Boohoo
~I've had to do coupon shopping with 4 kids.  Let me show you how it ended today. Its pretty self-explanatory.

~The reason for coupon shopping??  My kids are making us food poor.  Its a good thing, that they're eating and all, but it seems non.stop.
~I've had a headache all day.  I think from going out with my friends last night.  I don't drink much, and I had some wine and sangria.  I think I'm dehydrated today.  Also, I had trouble falling asleep from socializing.  I know.  I'm weird.
~Isaac has runny poo.  Fun for potty training.  Also, just an FYI, pull-ups do not keep diarrhea in.  at. all.
~My dairy and soy free salted Carmel latte had homemade caramel syrup.  Which didn't turn out the way it was supposed to.  Its not Carmel colored, and it turned into a candy type thing.  This is what the pan looked like after I scraped as much out of it as I could.

~Eliza's still getting up twice a night.  I'm still tired.  Less tired than before.  But, still tired.

~I'm so pumped about my doula stuff, but incredibly nervous at the same time.  I ordered some things online (lavender massage oil and peppermint roll on stick) but I'm not sure what is best to bring. I've got a birth ball, music, those two oils, a messager, but I know I need more.  Not sure what, though.

~ A is having his repeat sleep study tomorrow night. 

~I'm still iffy on whether or not to send Eliza to "school" one day a week with Isaac. I can't decide.  I hate decisions like this.

~Our state recently set a law that schools couldn't start back until after the 20th.  We were supposed to start school Monday.  My kids are suddenly extremely bored and naughty.  I think parents should've been consulted before changing schools schedules to benefit "tourism".  Either that, or they come save my sanity.

~Eliza is growing up.  Too fast.  I can hardly stand it. *sniff*  I'm really boohooing.

I feel like this has happened before

Deja Vu. 

That's what I feel like is going on at our house right now.  O had her 7 year check up on Wednesday.  I was assuming it would go wonderfully.  She hasn't been sick much, her asthma is generally under control, she's thriving at school. 

The first thing O had done was measurements of height and weight.  Her height seemed a bit low to me, but I couldn't really remember what she was at her 6 year check up.  Her weight is always low, so that really wasn't a surprise. 

Still under my assumption of having a perfect appointment, the pediatrician walks in and says "well, we have a problem."  Really?  Already?  Because we haven't done much, yet.  Only taken measurements.  Oh.  I see.  "O has only grown .25" and gained 1.5lbs the last year."

Cue flash back...Now! We're back in the years 2005 and 2006.  Getting O weighed creates so much anxiety.  Has she gained enough?  Are we going to have to have more testing done?  Am I going to have to meet with the dietitian again who treats me like I'm abusing my child by not feeding her? The dietitian who says my breast milk isn't fatty enough.  Is my breast milk not fatty enough?  Is she allergic to dairy?  Please, please, please have a gain on that scale!

I thought we were passed this stuff.  After 1.5 years of trying to figure out why O is little, we (the pediatrician, O's GI, and E and I) came to the conclusion that she's just tiny.  Its just her.  She was hanging out on her little growth curve, albeit below the charts, but, she had a purty little curve going.  Unfortunately, this latest ordeal has her dropping off in her own curve in height and weight. 

So, we're back to more testing.  Some of the testing of the blood work O had done when she was 1.5 really wasn't super reliable. Things like Celiac may not show trustworthy results with just blood work until after the age of 5.  (They gave us the option to have a small portion of her small intestine biopsied, but we declined.)    She'll likely have a repeat of those kinds of tests. 

As for right now, we're keeping a food log.  Monitoring everything that goes into her tummy.  (Which is sort of funny, in a weird way, since I'm doing the same for myself for WW.  Although the intent with mine is to LOSE weight.)  She's bringing home apple cores and corners of sandwiches from school.  (Its kind of gross since its been hot.  It gets all smelly in her lunch box.)  We should hear from a dietitian in the next few days.  They'll come out and take a peak at O's food log and determine if she's eating enough calories (which, I think she probably is.)  Then, we'll go from there. 

This is real life deja vu.  I have done this before.  At least this time the dietitian can't blame me for breastfeeding O. 

Vesicoureteral Reflux testing for E.C.

Miss Eliz Claire will be undergoing her VCUG today to test for Vesicoureteral Reflux, (aka Kidney Reflux).  She'll have to have a catheter placed into her bladder and we'll watch it on an x-ray to see if it goes into the kidneys or out like its supposed to.

I don't think she's going to like it.

This is really all O's fault.  Okay, not really.  Its likely my fault for passing on lousy genetics.  But, since O had such a severe grade of reflux, all of the kids have to get tested.  The boys were lucky, and got to start with just a simple renal u/s to check for kidney damage.  (A did have to have the VCUG done since one of his kidneys was larger than the other.  That's a common thing in a lot of people, but also a symptom in kidney reflux kids.) With boys, it often isn't as much of a serious problem as it is for little girls.  Even if a boy has grade II reflux, he may never have an actual infection.  Its anatomy (again, a win for the girls, right?!?)

The odds of Eliza having it are 1 in 3.  I know statistics don't work this way, but I feel like she's screwed since her brothers don't have it (they'd be the 2 in 3) and that leaves the remaining 1 in 3 to her to make up. I keep trying to tell myself that she's got a 66% chance that she DOESN'T have it.  That's pretty good odds. :) 

I don't know why I get so worked up over this testing.  Not that any one wants their baby to have a birth defect, but if you had to have one, this would be the one to have.  (Mild reflux is easily treatable and most kids out grow it. )  But, I'm still praying complete health over my sweet baby. 

I'll let you all know what they say today.  Our appointment is at 12 cst, then her actual vcug is at 12:30, with an appointment with the urologist at 2 p.m. (Thank goodness E could come stay home with Isaac, the I-am-two-hear-me-roar boy.)  We will have immediate results from her testing today. 

Operation "Tonsil Removal": Success!

I can't remember if I told you all that A had a sleep study done in December to test for sleep apnea.  Well, he stopped breathing 7 times in the 5.5 hours he was asleep. 

Treatment for sleep apnea in little guys is a tonsillectomy.  It cures something like 80% of kids. 

We've been talking it up a lot.  You get to eat popsicles, have ice cream, play games, watch cartoons, etc.  He and O actually got into an argument over it because she was jealous of all the "lucky stuff" he got to do and eat.

Monday was surgery day.  He was actually pretty excited. 

getting his gown on

 enjoying his heated blanket

A really fun "mask doctor" came by to explain to A how he was going to go to sleep.

He did so well!  He was in surgery for 30 minutes, then E got to go back into the recovery room with him.  By the time E got back there, A was already awake, eating a popsicle, and talking to the nurse about the DS games our neighbor brought over for him to use. 

Maybe 15 minutes after E went in, they transferred A up to the pediatric floor in the PACU hall.  That's where we hung out for the rest of the day.  He got several bags of fluid, lots of popsicles and juice, and was even feeling good enough to eat mashed potatoes for dinner. 

Playing the DS

The first day home, yesterday, was pretty easy, too.  He was in good spirits, except for around medicine time.  Today, well, today hasn't been so great.  He's feeling pretty icky. :(

We're really praying that this surgery helps cure a lot of his sleep apnea related issues and that's he's back to his "normal" self soon.

The things on my mind

Two things have been prevalent on my mind this weekend.  One, is pretty minor, but comes with weird fears.  The other, well, its sort of major, I guess.

The first- I have my first dental "work" appointment in over 10 years tomorrow morning.  I have 3 cavities that have to be filled. Unfortunately, I've put them off for a while, (one time I cancelled because I chickened out, the next time because the RE didn't want me to have any work done until I was out of my first trimester. Which, as a total aside, I will be out of tomorrow. woot!)  I have this weird fear that its going to hurt really bad.  I mean, I've had stuff done before.  In fact, one of the cavities is simply a place where an old filling fell out.  But, its been so long that a little fear has set in, I guess.  I have even been dreaming about it the last few nights.  Logically, I know its not a big deal.  Emotionally, I have a sick feeling in my tummy.  I don't want to go!

The second- I have my Nuchal Fold scan on Tuesday morning at 11:30 CST.  I wasn't really all that nervous about it until yesterday.  I started to get a little concerned that it seems like I haven't grown much, belly wise, in several weeks.  It seemed like I bloomed rather quickly in the uterus department, and now there hasn't been much change.  Of course, I'm concerned that this means there is a problem.  I'm sure its fine.  (again, the logic part of me tries to reason with the emotional part.)  But, there's always this little voice in my head that says things can always go wrong.  The trick is trying to take that little voice and make the best of my life, versus sulking in fear.  Right?

Anyway, if any of you feel so inclined to say a quick prayer for me for my NT scan on Tuesday, that would be so great.  As for the dentist tomorrow, I plan to take a muscle relaxer before I go. (just teasing... I think.)

More information

My friends and I always joke about how, before infertility and miscarriages, we had no idea about how exactly our bodies worked or what hormone was which or what is a good level of hcg (or what hcg even was!) We had no idea you could or even should (or want to) take a pregnancy test early, or how addicting it is to pee on a stick.

So, for those of you who are in our place, let me fill you in a tad. My number from last friday, 8.5, was the concentration of the pregnancy hormone, HCG, in my system. In medical terms, anything over 5 is pregnant. Most pregnancy tests read at 20 and above, but a few read below (like First Response Rapid Response which has been tested at 6!)

Ideally, that HCG number will double every 48-72 hrs in early pregnancy. And you might often hear that its not the number that matters- in and of itself- its the doubling that matters. While very true, its still much better, in my opinion, to have a higher number on the onset of a pregnancy, it means that you have more of the hormone in your system. Which is good.

So, my number of 23.5 is a doubling time of 47.91 hrs (I used this handy calculator.) Right on the border of that 48 hr window. While I have to be honest and say that I wish that it was higher and that it had tripled instead of doubled, I'm still pleased. This is moving up, and not down. Its moving in the right direction!

Of course, this pregnancy is not a "sure thing" by any means. My last pregnancy doubled up to 50, then dropped like dead fly on the wall. Hopefully these injections that I'll be giving myself daily will help keep that baby safe and snug.

I feel like God has given me hope, and that's so precious to me. But, we can't stop praying!! Please keep praying!