...I had a 91 year old female patient with dementia who could NOT be contained. She paced the halls with her walker frequently and the staff constantly had to watch to make sure she didn't elope from the facility. I am pretty green on the acute care scene, but my years of long term care experience before nursing school have given me plenty of tools to deal with such patients and I was not bothered by her at all. She had sort of a gruff manner about her--one tough little cookie, and I liked her immediately.
ALL day for two days this little woman would go up to staff members and say, "Can you hear that baby crying? Where is he? I'm on my way to get him, but I can't find him. Can't you hear that? Are they hurting him? He's REALLY crying..." There was, of course, no baby at all in the entire hospital. She would get increasingly agitated as the day wore on and the baby's crying continued in her head. We were able to redirect her for a few minutes or so, but then there she was again, asking for that baby. For anyone not familiar with dementia patients...you just go with the flow as much as you can with these people. You don't remind her that her mother is dead if she asks. You don't argue with her if she says it's 1954. So...basically I lied to this woman all day. This little part of me would cringe on the inside. I'd say, "Oh, the baby is just finishing his shots. He's ok. Can I show you to the waiting room?" She would allow me to take her back to her room, get her something to drink. But a few minutes later she'd be back. Looking for that baby.
An aide found a doll somewhere and tried to give her "baby" back to her. She looked right at the aide and said, "That's a doll. I'm looking for my baby."
I commented to another nurse how terrible that must feel for this poor lady. I mean, if you are a mother you know you can't get to your baby fast enough when you hear that cry. The pain cry is different than the tired cry, the hungry cry. The pain cry makes you scramble. It couldn't be a nice feeling to be unable to locate the baby when you know he needs you.
It wasn't until the end of my second shift that this woman's daughter came to check in on her mother. When I told her about the woman's constant requests for the baby, the daughter stopped short. "A baby boy?" she asked. "Yes, always" I replied.
I teared up when she told me the woman had long ago lost her youngest child, her only baby boy in a family of girls, a month after he was born. Every time she asked for her baby over the next three days, I would take her hand, look her in the eye and say, "He's ok. I promise." Because, what else can you say?
Monday, September 30, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
6 Months!
I know every parent says this...but I CANNOT get over how fast time is flying by. I wish I could reach out and freeze my children, just as they are, for a moment so I can come back to it later when they are grown and gone from me. I learned a long time ago--you think you will never forget what it's like to hold your tiny baby in your arms...but it does fade a bit. The baby gets replaced by a toddler and then a preschooler. I find that as Tanner progresses through the baby stages, I am remembering things about Roo when she was his age, and I'll think, "Oh yeah, how could I possibly have forgotten that?" That makes me sad. Knowing I forget so many little things and I'll never be able to get them all back.
Tanner is...such a great joy at this stage. He weighs a whopping 17 pounds now, and he is on the brink of crawling. He gets into the position and rocks back and forth constantly. If I get on the floor and call to him, I can just see him thinking about how to get over to me. He ends up trying to crawl using his hands and feet and then toppling over completely. I hardly ever see him get frustrated over it, though. He is always on the move and can get across the living room in no time flat. He seems content to flop around and play with whatever he encounters along the way so I live in fear of the errant Barbie shoe or toy ring. He is a happy little dude most of the time, but when he is mad...WATCH OUT! He seems to be a bit like me in the personality department--doesn't have much of a neutral gear. He's either really happy or really not.
In the looks department he is all Jerry. His eyes are still blue and his hair is lighter than Jerry or I's.
We are just starting to toy with solids and he doesn't have a whole lot of interest, but I'm hoping he'll get the hang of it soon. Because breastfeeding? Hasn't been all that much fun since I went back to work. I spend WAY too much quality time with my breast pump. And then when I get home we have to re-orient to breastfeeding. I'm nowhere near ready to throw in the towel, but the small break that solid foods will provide will be welcome when it comes. He's also starting to wake up at night to feed again. Nooooooo! We were doing so great at sleeping through the night up until a couple weeks ago.
I wake up every morning feeling grateful that he is here. That both of them are here. The hole Matthew left will never go away. I know by now that I will always have it. When I look at my kids in the rear view mirror while I'm driving I always know that one is missing, but I am still incredibly blessed. When I was pregnant and someone would say something to me that was optimistic enough to frighten me I would say something like, "Oh, I don't count my babies before they hatch." Gees, that sounds terrible doesn't it? I loved him from the moment I knew of his existence, but I tried my damnedest to avoid dreaming of taking my baby home. Because there are no guarantees, you know? Now as I pass last year's landmarks and remember how scared I was I am just so grateful to be on the other side. On the 7th, I passed the one year mark of my first ultrasound with Tanner. I took that little picture out and I just held my baby and cried. I was 11 weeks pregnant, and I kept my eyes closed until I heard the heartbeat. He was just a little brand-new being, a little snippet of hope, a year ago and now here I am with a roly-poly little 6-month old in my arms snoring. That just blows me away, you guys.
I wish the stork would deliver one annually.
Tanner is...such a great joy at this stage. He weighs a whopping 17 pounds now, and he is on the brink of crawling. He gets into the position and rocks back and forth constantly. If I get on the floor and call to him, I can just see him thinking about how to get over to me. He ends up trying to crawl using his hands and feet and then toppling over completely. I hardly ever see him get frustrated over it, though. He is always on the move and can get across the living room in no time flat. He seems content to flop around and play with whatever he encounters along the way so I live in fear of the errant Barbie shoe or toy ring. He is a happy little dude most of the time, but when he is mad...WATCH OUT! He seems to be a bit like me in the personality department--doesn't have much of a neutral gear. He's either really happy or really not.
In the looks department he is all Jerry. His eyes are still blue and his hair is lighter than Jerry or I's.
We are just starting to toy with solids and he doesn't have a whole lot of interest, but I'm hoping he'll get the hang of it soon. Because breastfeeding? Hasn't been all that much fun since I went back to work. I spend WAY too much quality time with my breast pump. And then when I get home we have to re-orient to breastfeeding. I'm nowhere near ready to throw in the towel, but the small break that solid foods will provide will be welcome when it comes. He's also starting to wake up at night to feed again. Nooooooo! We were doing so great at sleeping through the night up until a couple weeks ago.
I wake up every morning feeling grateful that he is here. That both of them are here. The hole Matthew left will never go away. I know by now that I will always have it. When I look at my kids in the rear view mirror while I'm driving I always know that one is missing, but I am still incredibly blessed. When I was pregnant and someone would say something to me that was optimistic enough to frighten me I would say something like, "Oh, I don't count my babies before they hatch." Gees, that sounds terrible doesn't it? I loved him from the moment I knew of his existence, but I tried my damnedest to avoid dreaming of taking my baby home. Because there are no guarantees, you know? Now as I pass last year's landmarks and remember how scared I was I am just so grateful to be on the other side. On the 7th, I passed the one year mark of my first ultrasound with Tanner. I took that little picture out and I just held my baby and cried. I was 11 weeks pregnant, and I kept my eyes closed until I heard the heartbeat. He was just a little brand-new being, a little snippet of hope, a year ago and now here I am with a roly-poly little 6-month old in my arms snoring. That just blows me away, you guys.
I wish the stork would deliver one annually.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
In Case You Thought I Was a Normal Mother...
My 5.5 month old sleeps with an apnea monitor. Not because he was premature. Not because he needs it. Because I need it. A doctor did not order this. I alternate usage between the Snuza and the Angelcare monitors, and I CANNOT sleep if I can't hear the beep of his breathing movements. It can't be set to silent. I need the beep.
I also freak out if anyone tries to let him nap on a surface that isn't firm. I let him have a binky because there is some evidence that it COULD potentially help prevent SIDS. I would never, ever co-sleep, but his crib is in our room. I use a video monitor during the day when needed.
I don't know if this is normal behavior for someone who has never lost a baby? I feel like it's within normal bounds for my history, at least. I thought all moms lived in fear of SIDS and apnea. The T-Man loves to sleep on his belly, too, which only serves to increase my anxiety. And yes, I know that once they can turn themselves onto their belly it is ok to leave them there to sleep. I still turn him back onto his side or back every chance I get. Since Jerry isn't one to say much about my baby neuroses, I was surprised when my aunt seemed shocked by my level of paranoia at a recent family gathering. She seemed to think it was ludacris that I would use a sleep monitor when it came up in conversation.
So I'm wondering...Am I taking it too far? I do lots of other non-neurotic mom stuff, I swear: I let him get passed around at family gatherings (and I have a huge extended family); I frequently clean his binky off with my mouth; and if he scoots off his blanket on the living room floor I let him stay on the bare floor for awhile. Oh, and he frequently naps without the monitors if I am close by. Totally laid back right? My concern is that I might not realize if I am overprotective to the point that it is interfering with my children's lives.
When Roo was an infant I had trouble sleeping even though she slept through the night by the time she was discharged from the hospital. I woke up constantly to check her breathing. So with The T-Man I figured--why not? It doesn't seem to bother him or interfere with his rest. And it allows me to rest. I refused to defend my choice to my aunt at the family gathering on principle (you know, the mind-your-own-business, keep-nosy-family-members-at-bay principle).
On a similarly over-protective note, Roo started Kindergarten a few weeks ago (so cute!), and I am realizing that I have waaaaay overprotected her. I was the ONLY mother still walking her daughter to the morning line-up spot by the second day of school (and no, this didn't make me stop walking her). Ditto for picking her up after school. She has yet to ride the school bus.
See? I have issues.
I also freak out if anyone tries to let him nap on a surface that isn't firm. I let him have a binky because there is some evidence that it COULD potentially help prevent SIDS. I would never, ever co-sleep, but his crib is in our room. I use a video monitor during the day when needed.
I don't know if this is normal behavior for someone who has never lost a baby? I feel like it's within normal bounds for my history, at least. I thought all moms lived in fear of SIDS and apnea. The T-Man loves to sleep on his belly, too, which only serves to increase my anxiety. And yes, I know that once they can turn themselves onto their belly it is ok to leave them there to sleep. I still turn him back onto his side or back every chance I get. Since Jerry isn't one to say much about my baby neuroses, I was surprised when my aunt seemed shocked by my level of paranoia at a recent family gathering. She seemed to think it was ludacris that I would use a sleep monitor when it came up in conversation.
So I'm wondering...Am I taking it too far? I do lots of other non-neurotic mom stuff, I swear: I let him get passed around at family gatherings (and I have a huge extended family); I frequently clean his binky off with my mouth; and if he scoots off his blanket on the living room floor I let him stay on the bare floor for awhile. Oh, and he frequently naps without the monitors if I am close by. Totally laid back right? My concern is that I might not realize if I am overprotective to the point that it is interfering with my children's lives.
When Roo was an infant I had trouble sleeping even though she slept through the night by the time she was discharged from the hospital. I woke up constantly to check her breathing. So with The T-Man I figured--why not? It doesn't seem to bother him or interfere with his rest. And it allows me to rest. I refused to defend my choice to my aunt at the family gathering on principle (you know, the mind-your-own-business, keep-nosy-family-members-at-bay principle).
On a similarly over-protective note, Roo started Kindergarten a few weeks ago (so cute!), and I am realizing that I have waaaaay overprotected her. I was the ONLY mother still walking her daughter to the morning line-up spot by the second day of school (and no, this didn't make me stop walking her). Ditto for picking her up after school. She has yet to ride the school bus.
See? I have issues.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Been Awhile...
Wow, time really flies when you're having fun huh? As usual summer is blowing by at warp speed. I think it has been over two months since I last wrote. Let's see what I can catch you up on in the fifteen minutes I have carved out to write.
Tanner had his 4-month check-up today. He weighs 14 pounds 11 ounces. He smiles, he laughs, he rolls over, he grabs objects with his hands, and is working on sitting up. He has already had his first haircut, and could use another. He was a bit of a fussy newborn, but since just past 6 weeks he has been such a joyful, happy little guy. He is so much fun. He has been sleeping through the night since about 7 weeks, but he doesn't nap very well during the day. I am a little sad at the end of each day at the thought of him growing up so fast. Why does the baby part always go so fast? His sister just absolutely adores him and frequently has to be reminded to be gentle and give him a little space. She is, however, very handy when he needs his binky replaced quickly, or someone entertaining to stare at for a few minutes while I shower.
I started a job at a tiny rural hospital working weekends. Jerry has been adjusting well to having both the kiddos on the days I work. Tanner doesn't seem to mind at all. I, on the other hand, have yet to get used to leaving him. I thought it would get easier this time around, having already gone through this with Roo. But no. I am really glad to be working, and I feel blessed to not have to leave him with a stranger, but it's HARD. Pumping at work really sucks. Then Tanner gets used to having a bottle for two days in a row and is a bit difficult to get back on the breast when Monday rolls around.
I took a break from classes after my course wrapped up at the end of May. I had forgotten what it felt like to be out of school...it feels way too good. Classes will be starting up again in a couple of weeks and I am not looking forward to it.
Jerry just got a new job and we are going to be moving! I am so excited to get out of this tiny, ridiculous excuse for a town. The town we are moving to is still pretty small but it is much more centrally located and is a mere 90 minute drive from the city Tanner was born in (I am currently 3.5 hours away from that city so...yeah). It's not a place I ever thought I'd live and I still have reservations about it all, but the job is too good to turn down. We got the go-ahead to pick a start date today. Now it's time to start house hunting!
I really want to write more. The days with my little family are so fleeting and I miss the aware-of-the-moment feeling that more frequent posting gives me. I like when I get the chance to take stock of everything that's happening and write it all down. This post feels so short, but I really do have ten more waiting in my head right now.
Tanner had his 4-month check-up today. He weighs 14 pounds 11 ounces. He smiles, he laughs, he rolls over, he grabs objects with his hands, and is working on sitting up. He has already had his first haircut, and could use another. He was a bit of a fussy newborn, but since just past 6 weeks he has been such a joyful, happy little guy. He is so much fun. He has been sleeping through the night since about 7 weeks, but he doesn't nap very well during the day. I am a little sad at the end of each day at the thought of him growing up so fast. Why does the baby part always go so fast? His sister just absolutely adores him and frequently has to be reminded to be gentle and give him a little space. She is, however, very handy when he needs his binky replaced quickly, or someone entertaining to stare at for a few minutes while I shower.
I started a job at a tiny rural hospital working weekends. Jerry has been adjusting well to having both the kiddos on the days I work. Tanner doesn't seem to mind at all. I, on the other hand, have yet to get used to leaving him. I thought it would get easier this time around, having already gone through this with Roo. But no. I am really glad to be working, and I feel blessed to not have to leave him with a stranger, but it's HARD. Pumping at work really sucks. Then Tanner gets used to having a bottle for two days in a row and is a bit difficult to get back on the breast when Monday rolls around.
I took a break from classes after my course wrapped up at the end of May. I had forgotten what it felt like to be out of school...it feels way too good. Classes will be starting up again in a couple of weeks and I am not looking forward to it.
Jerry just got a new job and we are going to be moving! I am so excited to get out of this tiny, ridiculous excuse for a town. The town we are moving to is still pretty small but it is much more centrally located and is a mere 90 minute drive from the city Tanner was born in (I am currently 3.5 hours away from that city so...yeah). It's not a place I ever thought I'd live and I still have reservations about it all, but the job is too good to turn down. We got the go-ahead to pick a start date today. Now it's time to start house hunting!
I really want to write more. The days with my little family are so fleeting and I miss the aware-of-the-moment feeling that more frequent posting gives me. I like when I get the chance to take stock of everything that's happening and write it all down. This post feels so short, but I really do have ten more waiting in my head right now.
Monday, May 6, 2013
Validation, Baby
On Thursday I had my 6-week postpartum check. It was great to have the chance to show Tanner off to the people who helped get us to the finish line. They all seemed genuinely happy for us, and Tanner's full head of hair was quite the topic of discussion.
Dr. VBAC and I did not see eye-to-eye on everything during my pregnancy. For awhile, I think he had some trouble deciding whether to be irritated or amused by me, but by the end of our journey I think we had developed a good rapport. He visited my hospital room 3 or 4 times a day and would sit and talk for much longer than necessary, frequently about non-medical things. He has a nurse practitioner who works for him named Nancy who I absolutely adored. Either Dr. VBAC or Nancy has called to check on me weekly since Tanner was born. These are people that I am eternally grateful to.
One of the issues Dr. VBAC and I had was whether or not I should have a VBAC. As you know, I chose to have a c-section with Roo. I had a wonderful peri, Dr. M, who delivered her safely and on-time. He passed away a year after she was born, and was thus unavailable as a resource to me during this pregnancy.
I didn't know it when I wrote this post, but Dr. VBAC likes to travel the country encouraging rural hospitals to allow more women to attempt VBACs. At nearly every appointment either he or the nurses would mention it to me as an option. I ended up feeling like he was pushing his own personal agenda on me, and I really resented it.
At the same time, I felt very conflicted. Obviously, I wish with all my heart that I had been able to give birth vaginally with Matthew. No one would be trying to limit the number of children I have. I wouldn't have to live in fear of uterine rupture or another horrifyingly painful recovery. And I love witnessing childbirth. In my nursing career so far, women and babies have been what most fascinates me. I wish I had the chance to have a vaginal birth. I wish it was that simple.
So my internal conflict raged throughout Tanner's pregnancy. Dr. M had said no, but Dr. VBAC was saying yes. A VBAC wasn't something I had known I wanted, but the more times it was offered, the more tempting the option became. In the end, fear kept me from trying. Fear and the knowledge that if I tried it and something were to go wrong, I could lose not only another little boy, but also a chance at future pregnancies. As any woman who has experienced infertility or the loss of a child knows, the chance of a future child can be priceless. I was more frightened during this pregnancy than I have ever been in my life. The premature labor and being hospitalized in the same places where Matthew and I were 7 years ago was emotional torture. Having a baby boy stirred some old feelings up that I had thought were long buried. Being separated from Jerry during the week caused some extra anxiety. I was....terrified the entire time.
Here I am now. Safely on the other side of all that. After Tanner's birth, I spoke with Dr. VBAC about the possibility of another pregnancy in a few years and I was glad to hear him say that I can attempt one in the future. He also casually mentioned that he felt the "VBAC ship had sailed."
But at my check-up, Nancy gave me a gift. Without any provocation whatsoever--we were talking about birth control--she paused, looked me in the eye, and said, "Reese, I want you to know that although we think you are ok to attempt another pregnancy, your uterine wall was thinner than Dr. VBAC thought it would be. We wouldn't let you labor in the future because we wouldn't want your uterus contracting. Dr. VBAC was actually very glad that you chose to have a c-section."
I didn't know what to say. Nancy knew that I had struggled with my decision, and she was handing me absolution. I looked at her, and I knew she understood exactly what she was giving me. I barely held back my tears.
I felt a weight lift. There was a part of me that worried that perhaps I had limited myself unnecessarily. There was a part of me that felt I had wimped out because I was afraid to try. I am so relieved that I followed my instincts and trusted that Dr. M, the peri who had actually seen my uterus, knew what he was talking about.
I don't know if I'll ever get another baby, but I know I haven't given up on the idea. In my heart, I really want to do it one more time. In my heart I want to hear that precious new heartbeat and feel those first tiny kicks one more time. And now I know for sure that the choices I made during Tanner's pregnancy just might make it possible for me to do it one more time. For right now, though, it's time to focus on enjoying the two wonderful babies I have here on this earth. It's time to put that tiny little flame of hope that is my fourth child away until the time comes to take it out again.
Dr. VBAC and I did not see eye-to-eye on everything during my pregnancy. For awhile, I think he had some trouble deciding whether to be irritated or amused by me, but by the end of our journey I think we had developed a good rapport. He visited my hospital room 3 or 4 times a day and would sit and talk for much longer than necessary, frequently about non-medical things. He has a nurse practitioner who works for him named Nancy who I absolutely adored. Either Dr. VBAC or Nancy has called to check on me weekly since Tanner was born. These are people that I am eternally grateful to.
One of the issues Dr. VBAC and I had was whether or not I should have a VBAC. As you know, I chose to have a c-section with Roo. I had a wonderful peri, Dr. M, who delivered her safely and on-time. He passed away a year after she was born, and was thus unavailable as a resource to me during this pregnancy.
I didn't know it when I wrote this post, but Dr. VBAC likes to travel the country encouraging rural hospitals to allow more women to attempt VBACs. At nearly every appointment either he or the nurses would mention it to me as an option. I ended up feeling like he was pushing his own personal agenda on me, and I really resented it.
At the same time, I felt very conflicted. Obviously, I wish with all my heart that I had been able to give birth vaginally with Matthew. No one would be trying to limit the number of children I have. I wouldn't have to live in fear of uterine rupture or another horrifyingly painful recovery. And I love witnessing childbirth. In my nursing career so far, women and babies have been what most fascinates me. I wish I had the chance to have a vaginal birth. I wish it was that simple.
So my internal conflict raged throughout Tanner's pregnancy. Dr. M had said no, but Dr. VBAC was saying yes. A VBAC wasn't something I had known I wanted, but the more times it was offered, the more tempting the option became. In the end, fear kept me from trying. Fear and the knowledge that if I tried it and something were to go wrong, I could lose not only another little boy, but also a chance at future pregnancies. As any woman who has experienced infertility or the loss of a child knows, the chance of a future child can be priceless. I was more frightened during this pregnancy than I have ever been in my life. The premature labor and being hospitalized in the same places where Matthew and I were 7 years ago was emotional torture. Having a baby boy stirred some old feelings up that I had thought were long buried. Being separated from Jerry during the week caused some extra anxiety. I was....terrified the entire time.
Here I am now. Safely on the other side of all that. After Tanner's birth, I spoke with Dr. VBAC about the possibility of another pregnancy in a few years and I was glad to hear him say that I can attempt one in the future. He also casually mentioned that he felt the "VBAC ship had sailed."
But at my check-up, Nancy gave me a gift. Without any provocation whatsoever--we were talking about birth control--she paused, looked me in the eye, and said, "Reese, I want you to know that although we think you are ok to attempt another pregnancy, your uterine wall was thinner than Dr. VBAC thought it would be. We wouldn't let you labor in the future because we wouldn't want your uterus contracting. Dr. VBAC was actually very glad that you chose to have a c-section."
I didn't know what to say. Nancy knew that I had struggled with my decision, and she was handing me absolution. I looked at her, and I knew she understood exactly what she was giving me. I barely held back my tears.
I felt a weight lift. There was a part of me that worried that perhaps I had limited myself unnecessarily. There was a part of me that felt I had wimped out because I was afraid to try. I am so relieved that I followed my instincts and trusted that Dr. M, the peri who had actually seen my uterus, knew what he was talking about.
I don't know if I'll ever get another baby, but I know I haven't given up on the idea. In my heart, I really want to do it one more time. In my heart I want to hear that precious new heartbeat and feel those first tiny kicks one more time. And now I know for sure that the choices I made during Tanner's pregnancy just might make it possible for me to do it one more time. For right now, though, it's time to focus on enjoying the two wonderful babies I have here on this earth. It's time to put that tiny little flame of hope that is my fourth child away until the time comes to take it out again.
Wednesday, May 1, 2013
A Trip to the ER
Let me preface this post by saying that I wouldn't even be telling this story if I didn't have Jerry to verify that I am not, in fact, crazy.
I kicked ass today. I got so much cleaning done. I felt like my old pre-pregnant self again. Better than my pre-pregnant self. I practiced handwriting with Roo. I made hotel reservations for my upcoming trip to the city (just me and the kids--should be interesting). I scrubbed the mud room free of all the spring mud. After a rough night, Tanner slept like a baby all day.
Around the time I was getting ready to start dinner, he started to fuss. A really high-pitched type of fuss. When I opened his diaper I almost fainted. His scrotum was hugely swollen on the right side all the way up into the crease of his groin and slightly discolored.
I freaked, you guys. To be honest, one of the things that made me apprehensive about having a little boy was dealing with the boy parts. All the nursing school textbook stories of undescended testicles, circumcisions gone wrong, circumcisions gone right, varicoceles, and inguinal hernias really scare me. I knew he didn't have a fever. I knew he was peeing, pooping, and eating on schedule. But he looked a bit pale when I thought about it and combined with the high-pitched cry and the obvious sudden discrepancy down there...yeah.
So...now Tanner clearly has some sort of inguinal hernia (at best) or testicular torsion (at worst) going on.
Jerry arrives home and I open his diaper to show him the goods. We head to the ER. Tanner, finished with his baby-rant, passes out again. Tanner dozes peacefully in his car seat.
We arrive at the ER. Tanner wakes up and proceeds to smile at the receptionist and a nurse who comes over to check him out. Obviously not in distress, we are shoved in a room and wait over 2 hours to be seen. Tanner stays awake the entire time, staring at the world in sheer contented wonder.
And...his parts look completely normal. Seriously. The PA was looking at me like, "Why are you here?" and then she recommended I follow-up with his pediatrician.
I mean, I'm thrilled that this trip to the ER didn't end with someone getting airlifted to a larger hospital (because that happened recently, remember?). Or with emergency surgery on my infant son. But I felt like an idiot because there really didn't seem to be anything wrong with him. And I'm an RN. I feel like I should know better or something.
On the way home I asked Jerry about 6 times, "I mean, it WAS swollen right?" and every time he agreed with me that it had been.
So I guess I'll call his pediatrician in the morning? It should be interesting trying to relay this little story to her. For now I'm just glad that my baby seems to be ok.
I kicked ass today. I got so much cleaning done. I felt like my old pre-pregnant self again. Better than my pre-pregnant self. I practiced handwriting with Roo. I made hotel reservations for my upcoming trip to the city (just me and the kids--should be interesting). I scrubbed the mud room free of all the spring mud. After a rough night, Tanner slept like a baby all day.
Around the time I was getting ready to start dinner, he started to fuss. A really high-pitched type of fuss. When I opened his diaper I almost fainted. His scrotum was hugely swollen on the right side all the way up into the crease of his groin and slightly discolored.
I freaked, you guys. To be honest, one of the things that made me apprehensive about having a little boy was dealing with the boy parts. All the nursing school textbook stories of undescended testicles, circumcisions gone wrong, circumcisions gone right, varicoceles, and inguinal hernias really scare me. I knew he didn't have a fever. I knew he was peeing, pooping, and eating on schedule. But he looked a bit pale when I thought about it and combined with the high-pitched cry and the obvious sudden discrepancy down there...yeah.
So...now Tanner clearly has some sort of inguinal hernia (at best) or testicular torsion (at worst) going on.
Jerry arrives home and I open his diaper to show him the goods. We head to the ER. Tanner, finished with his baby-rant, passes out again. Tanner dozes peacefully in his car seat.
We arrive at the ER. Tanner wakes up and proceeds to smile at the receptionist and a nurse who comes over to check him out. Obviously not in distress, we are shoved in a room and wait over 2 hours to be seen. Tanner stays awake the entire time, staring at the world in sheer contented wonder.
And...his parts look completely normal. Seriously. The PA was looking at me like, "Why are you here?" and then she recommended I follow-up with his pediatrician.
I mean, I'm thrilled that this trip to the ER didn't end with someone getting airlifted to a larger hospital (because that happened recently, remember?). Or with emergency surgery on my infant son. But I felt like an idiot because there really didn't seem to be anything wrong with him. And I'm an RN. I feel like I should know better or something.
On the way home I asked Jerry about 6 times, "I mean, it WAS swollen right?" and every time he agreed with me that it had been.
So I guess I'll call his pediatrician in the morning? It should be interesting trying to relay this little story to her. For now I'm just glad that my baby seems to be ok.
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