Suddenly *Not So* Single Journey

It’s one of those days…

Monday, January 30th, 2012

I should be really happy today.  Kenna is three weeks old.  She finally pooped and now we’re just waiting to hear that her lungs are improving from the new steroid treatment.  She’s old enough that they don’t expect her to suffer any of the potential side effects that are a risk for newborns.  While she’s nowhere near the size of the newborns and gestationally she should only be 27 weeks in utero…she is technically…three weeks old.

And I should be really happy about that.  And I am, but this happiness is overshadowed.

Rachel graduates today.

There’s a name you haven’t heard in a while.  And there are reasons for that, reasons I don’t understand.  All I know is that she moved out, moved in with her boyfriend and hasn’t spoken to me since.  She kept her word.  In our last conversation, she told me she was never going to speak to me again.

I have tried to call several times, but she sent me straight to voice mail.  I even sent a congratulations text when I heard she was graduating.  She didn’t respond.  So Rachel has kept her word.  She’s still not speaking to me.

We talk about her sometimes…S and I.  We have to because now we have a daughter.  And I’m afraid that I will go through all this again and just lose her in the end.  Luckily, I have S to talk me off the ledge.

S: Kenna’s my daughter, too.  It will be different.  She’ll have two parents who work together, instead of one parent who undermines the other.

I sniffled and nodded.

S: Our relationship is different.  We’re going to raise Kenna different.

He’s right.  Our relationship is different.  He’s home at night and on weekends.  He spends time with me.  He includes me in everything.  We don’t have secrets.  Our lives are blissfully intertwined because of work.

I remember when I separated from the ex.  We had been married for fifteen years and it was easy to separate from him…we were less together than S and I are now.  Crazy, huh?  We had two kids.  We had a house.  We had vehicles.  And yet…there was nothing to it.  I can’t say the same for the kind of life S and I have.  It wouldn’t be that easy.

And I’m glad of that.  I’m thrilled for the life we have.  The life we’re going to have.

I was telling Kenna all about it yesterday.  She was listening so attentively as I told her about all the many places we would go and the many things daddy and I couldn’t wait to do with her.  I told her how her father and I were known for our side trips.  I told her about the time we visited Jennie and got lost, so we ended up going to the zoo.  And I told her about the time we had such a rough sailing vacation last summer that we had to take a vacation from our vacation and stopped in Myrtle Beach on the way home from Charleston.  And I told her that I couldn’t wait to take her and daddy to Atlanta.  I have a love affair with the Georgia Aquarium.  And I can’t wait to see her play in the fountains at Olympic Park.

So, I’m powering through the rest of today, which promises to be a challenging day.  We have an insurance audit that I have no choice in attending and a graduation I’m not invited to.  Sounds about right.

And I’m going to focus on the happy and the things I can control.  Kenna is my happy…even though her health is out of my control.

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Sometimes there are happy endings after an unhappy day…

Saturday, January 28th, 2012

A dawn from better days...at our boat in Charleston.

We were up at the butt crack of dawn on Friday.  S had to leave the house by 7am to do some work.  He had warned me he might be gone all day, but instead was done by 10:30am.

I was looking forward to my time.  When he’s home, he finds just shy of three million things for me to do…things that can only be done by me…and then he takes a nap.  Don’t get me wrong.  I like him well rested.  Sleep deprived S is a grizzly bear.  So, I usually get to work and let him sleep.

Only, this means that I don’t get much done that I need and want to do.  And I have so very much that I need to get done these days.  Really I do.  And that’s why his return at 10:30am was a bit of a disappointment.

We accomplished a few things and I let him nap while I went for a very long walk.  And it was only knowing that he hates being disturbed during these naps and that it wasn’t a true emergency on my part that kept me from calling him to come pick me up from my walk.  Yes, this is one of those ‘my eyes were bigger than my stomach’ moments only I haven’t taken the time to figure out how to relate that to walking post c-section and over estimating my abilities instead it relating to food.  I’m better with food.  Which probably also explains my need to exercise.  Welcome to my vicious circle.

I had posted the pontoon boat on Craigslist.  We need to sell it.  And the weather was beautiful yesterday…unseasonably warm, perfect sky.  Anyone with a few dollars burning a hole in their pocket was thinking boat yesterday.  And many of them called.  So, we had to drive to S’s sister’s a half hour away the other direction from the hospital to show the boat.

And I figured we’d have plenty of time to get to the hospital since…it was only 3:30pm.  The last guy to see it was coming at 5:30pm.  It was going to be great.  Spend a little time with his father and niece and nephew while S showed the boat and his sister and her husband were at work.  Then go see Kenna.

Only…upon exiting the vehicle, I realized my tired was losing air through a nail hole.  Because that’s how my luck goes.  And the guy who said he wanted to buy the boat at 6pm said he’d be back in an hour with the deposit only he never showed up.  And that’s how our luck goes.  And nothing was going according to plan, which didn’t phase me much, but for some reason seemed to be shocking the heck out of S despite his aforementioned acceptance of our lousy luck.

So we made some phone calls, attempted some problem solving, and S managed to convince the guy at Sears to have pity on us since we were nowhere near home and really needed to get there.  That was nothing like our luck and reassured S that there were good and kind people in this world.  Huh.

That’s why I was alone with the kids while the guys left.  And that’s why I went so long without pumping that I was beyond uncomfortable when the vehicle was finally repaired and we had eaten dinner at 9pm.  And that’s why we didn’t make it to the hospital even though I had vowed to go every day.

S reminded me that we couldn’t afford it.  And I held my tongue because…I know he’s right and things keep creeping up, or losing air, or needing repair, or not going as planned.  So, I guess we’re really grateful that Vicki, S’s step-mom, started the Caring for Kenna charity.  She’s wise and thoughtful.  She saw that we were hemorrhaging money and did something about it.  So, thank you, Vicki.

I was already sad on the drive home.  I felt like the worst mom ever.  And that’s when S and I had a talk.  And it started something like this…

S: I should have married for money.

me: What did you marry for?

S: I don’t know.

me: Love the honesty.

S: Nicki, I’m kidding.  I married because it made sense.

me: How romantic.

S: Seriously, you know I married you because I love you.  (He looked at me then, staring out the window.)  You do know I love you, right? (And he started petting my hair.) Because I just said it and everything.

me: I know.

S: Nicki, we couldn’t make it through all this if we didn’t love each other.  It just wouldn’t be possible without love.

I smiled then…because for a moment…he sounded just like me.

It’s the dawning of a new day.  A fresh start.  Maybe the boat will sell today.  We’ll definitely make it to the hospital.  And we have a friend’s birthday celebration tonight.  It will be a good day for life and love.

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Kenna’s gift for the rest of us…

Friday, January 27th, 2012

Babies are a blessing.  We all know this.  Some of us are just more acutely aware of this than others.  Take my cousin, for example, who is even as I write…struggling to get pregnant on another…her last…IVF cycle.  And then there are those like me who get pregnant easily, but have the darndest time staying pregnant.

My babies are such a blessing.

There’s something I never anticipated, however.  And that is…the gift that Kenna would give to us.

I’m not sure where to begin.

How about with…family is everything.  At least…it is to me.  I’ve always longed to have this big close family.  It’s what I’ve always been drawn to.  I grew up with a small family.  And we were close.  We did church together and Sunday lunch together and all of our holidays together.  And then I married.  I tried to have the family I had growing up.  Only the ex never wanted to go to church with us and his family messed up most holidays.  So, when I had the urge to move south, to start anew…the pull of promise was so much greater than all I was leaving behind.

I had hoped that the ex and I could have a new start far away from our problems.  Only…that didn’t happen.  I held on as long as I could.  Maybe I held on too long.  All that matters is that I’m happy now and I feel like I am where I was meant to be.  I’m having my second chance at love, at life, at family.

So Kenna was a gift.  She was so hard to come by.  And every day is still touch and go.

My dream of a family…still alive and kicking even though it has seemed so far away.

Rachel had moved out.  I was having issues with other family members.  S wasn’t feeling particularly warm and fuzzy toward his family.  And it felt like it was the two of us against the world.

Then Kenna was born.  Everything changed.

Dad and Vicki were at the hospital all day with us.  And I felt guilty because they arrived just before I was getting prepped for surgery.  It made for a long day for them.  It had already been a long day for us.

They stayed to see Kenna.  They stayed to see me.  We all talked once I was in my room.  And there were more visits, lots of visits, so many visits that the time in the hospital was a blur.  Dad and Vicki and Mawmaw and Christie, S’s sister, and Lonnie and Lindsay all spent time with me.  S was a constant fixture.

It didn’t end there.

That was just the beginning.

Soon, there was more healing.  Lots of healing.  Relationships that were strained…healed.  And I am so very happy about that.

It’s like a wonderful unexpected gift.  Kenna’s gift for us.

Babies are a blessing.  They have a wonderful way of bringing people together, reminding them how precious life is.  Ah, but Kenna has done even more.  She has given all of us a common goal.  We are all working together, getting closer, talking more, interacting more, all because we want Kenna to live.  It’s a gift that transcends family.

I am now getting closer to people I haven’t been close to for years…maybe ever.  Mere acquaintances have become friends.  And friends…well they are now family.  It’s not a bad way to live.

Kenna has quite the reach.

And I’m hoping her gift doesn’t begin and end with our family.  I’m hoping that everyone who reads is touched by my baby girl.  My wish for all of you is that you realize what a gift life is, how precious time is and that you stop wasting both.  I hope that you think about Kenna and snuggle closer to your spouse, kiss your kids more, pet your pooch, call your mom, make up with anyone you need to.

Think of Kenna and know that life and time are a precious gift.  Make the most of them.

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Happiness is slow and steady…

Thursday, January 26th, 2012

Slow and steady.  Yes, slow and steady wins the race.  Only this isn’t a race.  And if it was a race it would be more like a marathon or triathlon even, but not a sprint.  Kenna is my little turtle.

Her progress these days is less exciting.

At first there was mad progress.  Tons of stuff to constantly report.  She was living under a plastic sheet inside a plastic sealed box.  She was under bili lights.  She was on dopamine for her blood pressure.  She was teeny tiny, but now she’s gaining weight.  There’s been a lot of progress the last two weeks.  Now…it has tapered off.

Kenna is stable.  Stable is good.  Oh, but I get bored and I want progress.  I want to hear that she pooped…finally.  I want to hear that she’s off the oscillator and the ventilator.  She finally just started eating.

Okay.  It’s more than all that.  I want her home.  I know it’s too soon.  I know she’s nowhere near ready yet.  And even though I tell people all the time that she will be in the hospital until at least April, maybe May, I shudder and cringe when I think about how far away that really is.  Because…it’s so far.  It’s so long.

Still, progress is better than regressing.  It is so much better than her getting sicker.  She doesn’t have an infection.  She doesn’t have any bleeds on the brain.  We have much to be happy about.  Of course, I’ll be even happier when I can touch her.  I’ll be even happier when I can hold her.

Any progress is good progress.  We’ll take it.  Kenna is holding her own.  She’s staying strong.  She’s my determined baby girl.

We’re lucky.  We’re blessed.  We have plenty to be happy about.  There are so many people keeping up with her progress, so many people who pray for her, so many people who leave us supportive comments and words of encouragement on Facebook.

I’ve said it before and I’ll keep saying it.  This is what keeps us strong.  Nothing makes a person feel weaker than feeling alone.  The strength comes from having so many people offering love and support, knowing that we’re not alone.  That’s how I keep on…knowing I’m not alone.

I’ll keep sharing.  I can’t help it.  And Kenna, well she’ll keep growing…slow and steady.  And with all that love and support, we’ll all pull through.

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I’m not so strong all the time…

Wednesday, January 25th, 2012

Kenna resting peacefully. I need a script of what she's on.

I wear out.  Sometimes.  This being hopeful and happy thing can be truly exhausting.  And I never realize how exhausting until I just can’t maintain it anymore.

That’s how yesterday was.

I was done.  I simply didn’t have anything left.

I’m not getting enough sleep.  I’m not able to pump like I want to.  And eventually life catches up with me.  I get overwhelmed.  All I need is a few minutes to cry…a few minutes to let it all go.  Then I can pull myself together again.  I bounce back really quickly.

And all I need to stay strong is for S to be loving and supportive.  Sometimes, that is too much for him.  Sometimes, he’s not in a place where he can do that.  All S needs is to know that he can take care of us, that there is going to be a job or money coming in.  And he hasn’t had that hope lately.  Worse, what work he has done, he’s having trouble getting paid for.

So no, S had nothing to give me.  And I could ever so acutely feel his displeasure.  That wore on me, too.

The problem isn’t that he was upset or that he took it out on me.  The problem was that I understand.  I understand him.  I understand how he thinks.  We’re trying so very hard to fulfill each other’s needs to help each other stay happy.  It’s never been so much work before.  We have a lot weighing down on us.  If it were just one thing…totally different story.  Lately, it’s everything.

And then I saw a post by a friend on Facebook reminding all of us that just one short month ago it was Christmas Eve.  And I realized how far we’ve come.  No wonder I’m worn out.

I went from being sick and scared on bed rest to emergency c-section in two and a half weeks.  I’ve been recovering from being sick.  And all the while I’ve been stretching myself thin, which is different from actual thin, the last two weeks trying to take care of Kenna and fight for her, trying to get our life back in order, and trying to create some semblance of a new routine.

Yeah.  Sometimes…I’m too hard on myself.  And I don’t allow myself enough rest.  And everything catches up with me.  And then it takes something so little to make it all right.

Last night, S made dinner so I could write.  And he cleaned up from dinner so I could write.  And when I was too tired to write anymore, S snuggled me and took a nap with me on the couch all curled together like puppies in a pile.  And when we woke…everything seemed so much more manageable.

There’s one thing I can’t manage.  There’s something completely out of my control.  And it’s what I care about most…Kenna.

Kenna is making the doctors nervous.  She hasn’t pooped.  And her lungs need work…they are still too stiff and her arteries are still too hard.  She’s come so far, but she still has such a very long way to go.

Please think of her.  It helps all of us stay strong.  And thank you in advance.  All prayers, thoughts, and words of encouragement are so very much appreciated.

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My life has changed…

Tuesday, January 24th, 2012

I think about how different my life was last year and the year before and especially five years ago.  In some ways…it’s obvious.  We’re married and have a baby now.  Having a baby is a big change.  Having a baby in the NICU is a ginormous change.  Really…it changes everything.

And I suppose I explained it best to Kenna the other night while I was visiting her.

I love visiting her.  I talk to her.  I tell her stories.  I still have Goodnight Moon memorized from reading it to my kids so many times.  And Kenna deserves the full experience.  She does, after all, respond to our voices.

On this particular night, I told her how much I miss having her with me all the time.  I miss having her in my belly.  I miss it.  I miss that connection.  I miss the nights when I would curl up in S’s arms or in his lap and he’d caress my belly and talk to Kenna.

Now there’s no touching my belly.  It still hurts too much.  It’s still bruised.  And there’s no talking to Kenna all day long.  I have to save it all up and share it with her when we’re there.

It’s hard not being with her all the time.  I call the NICU each night before I go to bed so I can sleep.  I need to know she’s okay.  I call in the morning to make sure that everything is okay.  I need to know that she made it through the night.  And I get increasingly agitated the later it gets in the day.  I need my Kenna fix.

I need to be with her.  Even though I can’t touch her.  Even though I can’t hold her.  What matters is that I get to be there and she can hear my voice.

That’s the biggest change.  Once again, my life isn’t my own.  Not only do I share it with S, and a teenager who barely needs me, but now everything is about Kenna.  All the choices I make and all the decisions for the future are about what is best for her, taking care of her needs, being her advocate, the best mom possible.  She has worked so hard to be here, worked so hard to stick it out, she deserves the best from me.

We have a long road ahead of us.  She has weight to gain, while I have weight to lose.  We’re both working on our health.  We both need to work on just breathing, although not in the same way.

All I know is that I am so blessed, so fortunate.  When I am weak, I have S to be strong.  When I lose my sense of humor, I have S to make me smile.  When I lose faith, I have S to help put everything in perspective.  Together, we can survive anything…whatever changes life dishes out.

We’re counting down the time until Kenna comes home.  And we do it with a smile, eagerly looking forward to adapting to that change.

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Be happy. It’s a whole new week…

Monday, January 23rd, 2012

And there are several things that are special about this week.  Ready?

First…I don’t have a doctor appointment this week.  For those of you who have been following me…this is phenomenal.  I have done nothing but doctor’s appointments, sometimes several a week, for what felt like forever.  So a week without doctor appointments…wow.  Whatever will I do with all that extra time?  Oh, I know.  I can spend it at the hospital, or getting more writing done.  But mostly…spending time with Kenna.

And this brings me to what’s special about today.  Ready?

Kenna is two weeks old today.  She’s made it fourteen days.  What a blessing my teeny tiny miracle is.  She’s had a week of ups and downs.  She’s toughed it out.  My baby is a fighter.  And I’m so very proud of her.  She started out at just over nine ounces.  And now…she’s a whopping 1 pound.  Yup.  She’s huge.

And now that I’m two weeks postpartum, I think it’s time to get moving on this weight thing.  I have been walking a little more, but it is so stinking cold.  I just can’t do it.  I didn’t move 1000 miles from the frigid north to freeze to death in the south.  So, I’m going to go through my many many many dusty work out videos to find something that peaks my interest and won’t kill me.  Bishop ate my favorite video.

We’re trying to find a new kind of normal.  We have our daily visits to the hospital.  I live for my Kenna time.  Even though all we can do is look at her right now, it’s so nice to see her looking healthier.  I think her skin is looking better and better.  Of course part of it is because the nurses have already started training her in the ways of the mommy.  Kenna has adopted my beauty regimen: lotion.  Yes, there is a special Eucerin lotion that they use to heal her: Aquaphor.  The results are phenomenal.

S would be happier if he was busier, but he’s doing what he can, making the best of his time, and trying to keep a smile on his face…and mine.  He’s been really funny lately, which is nice.  Funny is not a descriptor I would normally give him.  He’s serious.  He can be playful.  Ah, but lately, he has been working overtime to make sure he’s funny and keeping me smiling.  I’ve really enjoyed his antics, his joking.  It’s obviously working.

So, here we are facing a whole new week.  And we do it with hope that life will continue to improve, that Kenna’s health will hold stable, that work will pick up, that I will continue to heal and feel better so I can get back to doing everything that I need to do.  This is what I love about Mondays.  So much promise.  We’ll make the best of it.

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I wasn’t going to write today…

Saturday, January 21st, 2012

But I think Lisa was right.  I can’t help but write.  It’s something I have to do.

So, here I am, on a day that I really could just take a day off, and I’m at the computer doing something that I swore I wouldn’t do.  And the only thing I’ve come up with is that it’s cathartic.  Once I get the words out, I feel so much better.  It’s like when I’m nauseous and I finally give in and throw up.  All better.  Nice analogy, huh?  Well, they can’t all be pretty.

We went to the hospital last night.  And lately, every time we go, we sit down with a doctor.  This time was no different.  This time, I made the mistake of spotting the doctor that had placed the central lines in Kenna.  We hadn’t officially met yet and he had, every time we talked on the phone, expressed a deep desire to meet us.  And I’m a people pleaser.  And I wanted to thank him.

So we initiated the contact that ruined the rest of our night and possibly our entire weekend.

The doctor hauled us into the doctors’ office.  We sat there and listened to him explain how critical and sick Kenna was.  He explained that he didn’t think the medicine to close the PDA was working.  He explained that surgery was out of the question until she was at least two pounds.  Mind you, she’s not even one pound yet.  He told us that her lung disease was getting worse because of the PDA.  She’s still off the blood pressure meds, but they are thinking she’s going to be back on them again soon.  And he’s seeking FDA approval for a special experimental treatment they want to use on Kenna.

Yes, the FDA gets to decide whether or not my daughter gets medicine.  And they could take two to three weeks to decide it.  And I’m thinking it must be reasonably important if the doctors are willing to go to that effort for one baby.  Our baby.

We gave him our normal spiel, reminded him how many times Kenna had surprised us so far, how many times she had already beaten the odds.  We told him we were just going to remain hopeful, take it one day at a time.  And then we shook hands and went to see our baby girl.

Her alarms were going off.  Her blood pressure was low.  Her O2 sats were low.  And the male nurse working on her looked scared.  He was big and having trouble working on such a tiny baby through the incubator.  The doctor had followed us out and he helped.  It took a good five minutes, five minutes that felt like an hour, before the doctor stepped away, before Kenna stabilized.

S and I had stood there, tense, side by side, staring at the scene unfolding before us.  It was reality.  It was a slap in the face.  It was the first time I had really considered that she could die.  And it just sucked.

We stayed a while.  We talked to her and watched her get cared for by her night nurse.   We watched her get a diaper change and her temperature get checked.  We watched her get all snuggled in and stabilize.  And when I called at midnight before bed, she was doing better.  Her pressures had been low again, but once they ordered the blood pressure meds, Kenna stabilized before the meds arrived and could be administered.

She’s hanging in there.  Kenna is tough.

At the same time, I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to being scared.  She’s not even two weeks old yet, but I can’t imagine life without her.  Kenna wasn’t an accident.  She was planned and loved and wanted.  She is the realization of my dreams.  I always wanted to have a baby with a loving, supportive and involved husband.  I have that.  S made what was an otherwise horrible pregnancy bearable.  Kenna beat the odds and made it out of the womb alive.  I refuse to believe we’re going to lose her now.

And so I share.  I share to get all my worries and fears out, so I can face them and cope with them and force them from my mind and move on…get back in fighting mode.  I share because I know that if I do, there will be so many people fighting with us.  And I need the strength that comes from that knowledge.

Please…think of us.  And know, in advance, that it is so very much appreciated.

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So, this is what a good day looks like…

Friday, January 20th, 2012

The magic hat...

And I can’t say every aspect of the day looks good, just that it seeeeeeemed good overall.

It started with us getting up.  (Always a good start.) And I had a long long long list of things to accomplish for the day.  There were calls to be made.  Potential clients to speak with.  Paperwork to complete.  And so much more.

So, I didn’t waste time getting pretty, I simply got to work.  That’s the way we do.  I was starting to make some headway.  I even managed to get dressed.  Then S’s phone rang.  He had been speaking with this guy who had several commercial Hardie jobs available.  They were big projects and each successful completion would lead to more projects.  He could promise S five jobs per year.  There were jobs all over North and South Carolina.  He made S drool with promises of a Myrtle Beach project.

S had to go meet him ASAP.  And since it was uptown, he would bring me with him and we’d go to the hospital in the morning instead of in the evening.  I loved that idea.  And so we went.  I sat in the car and read my latest book that I received as a member of the From Left to Write online book club.  I love it so far.

The project doesn’t look like it’s going to happen.  The guy wanted too much work for too little money.  And S wasn’t even sure he could afford to pay his guys the normal rates without losing money.  So, no go on the job.  Is it wrong of me to admit that I didn’t want him traveling all over?  Because…I don’t.  Not with Kenna in the hospital for goodness knows how long.  Not even after Kenna gets out of the hospital.  Not at all.  I like him home with me at night.  I like our snuggle and unwind time.  I like talking to him.  I need the intimacy our life allows.

Then it was off to the hospital.  I had found a hat there once that I liked.  It was sage green with a pink flower on it.  And I could simply imagine it on Kenna when she came home, or maybe even before.  Mommy loves hats, so Kenna better get used to them.  Plus, as a preemie, they help her stay warm.  Yeah, that’s my excuse.  Well, imagine my disappointment when it was gone the next time I came.

So, I asked the respiratory therapist about the basket I saw it in.  She assured me they were free and went fast, so if I ever saw anything I liked to simply snatch it up and hold onto it until Kenna was ready for it.  Well, every visit since, I have peeked in the basket.  And today, voila!  The hat.  Maybe the same hat.  All I know is that I did what I was told.  I snatched up that hat.  It will be ready for Kenna when she’s ready for it.

Then, there was the call I made to the one job that S thought was probably dead in the water.  Well, we talked for a good ten minutes about the job and our personal lives, and I’d dare say the job still has some life in it.  He even promised to call back in a few days.  Woo hoo!  This job could literally save us.  We have started referring to our current state as rock bottom, but I’m sure we could fall way farther than this.

So, the day in review…new hat for Kenna, potential job for S, makes everything happier for me.

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