It's a...

GIRL! :)

Just in case you didn't catch that, we are...

I am so excited and love being able to say, "she..." Saying he/she was getting kind of old.

The first question I asked and I'm sure you are all thinking, "How sure was the ultrasound tech that it was a girl?"

Well, she was pretty confident. We have two separate photos that she labeled "girl parts," see below.

I will be honest; I am not very good with these things. I don't necessarily see "girl parts"; however, I know that I don't see boy parts.

It is absolutely crazy though, when everyone thought it was a boy....well, 23 of my readers, Heath, and I were all convinced. Again, my intuition is way off! haha. If we ever decide to have a third, I know that it will be exactly opposite of what I think or feel. ha.

Watching her kick and swing her arms (a ton!) was so joyful! :) I could watch it all day. I love watching her be so active. However, she is feisty! She kept kicking at the ultrasound...wand? monitor? You know what I am talking about. She kept hitting it and causing me some discomfort. If her movement and feistiness is any indication of what she will be like in the future, we may be in trouble! :)  Or, as Heath said later, "If she is even half as dramatic as Lucy, we will have our hands full!"

As soon as the technician said it was a girl, I looked at Heath and smiled. :) I was truly overjoyed and almost to tears. I love girls and another one is fine with me. :)  Heath smiled and said, "We'll have a house full of girls."  I wanted to remind him that he still had Chico, who has enough male dominance and testosterone for 3 males.

On the way home he commented on how expensive girls are. haha. I know girls can be expensive with their makeup, clothes, jewelry, hair products, shoes, etc. However, boys can be just as bad with all of their "toys." And, if they are as metro-sexual as Heath, they can have just as expensive shopping trips too!

It was a wonderful day! :) I couldn't have asked for a better one.  All of my family members were excited too! Oh, and I also got a call from the hospital that said all of the blood tests came back normal and all looked good! No abnormalities at all! Whew! :) More good news!

I am literally on a cloud this week. Hopefully work won't get me down. It's almost the weekend! :)

Surprise!

Yep. I am the one who urinated on that stick. :)

If you are still somehow missing it, I'm pregnant! :)

I have been dying to tell you all! After my close family and friends, I wanted you all to be the first to know - my loyal readers! Almost every post that I am "loving" I want to tell you about the pregnancy. Or, I want to mention how tired or nauseous I am. You remember all of that, right?

The truth is, we were scared to tell right away. I had a really bad urinary tract infection at the beginning of my pregnancy. They can cause miscarriages. Scary! So, we kept the news to ourselves for a long time. Then, I continued to have bladder issues. Although I probably do have a condition called Interstitial Cystitis (IC), the pain that I was feeling was probably only amplified by my growing uterus laying on top of my bladder. As my uterus lifts out of my pelvis, I am getting some relief. The good news is that the Cystitis won't affect the baby! Perhaps I will tell you more about the IC later...

I bet you want to know how far along I am and when I'm due. Well, I am 11 weeks along and due September 14th. I know two other ladies due the same week. :) It'll be crazy!

I feel like my tummy is starting to "pop" though and I simply won't be able to hide it anymore. As the warm weather peels my baggy jackets and sweaters, it will only become more obvious. I seriously do feel like I am bigger with the second one. My abs...or lack thereof...did nothing to keep my uterus under control this time.

Here I am after I found out, at 5 weeks.

I was already about 10 pounds up from when I got pregnant with Lucy. I'm a statistic!!!  Oh well, nothing I can do now. My arm placement isn't the most flattering either. :{ Hopefully I won't gain as much this time...

I can't wait to share this pregnancy with you all. It is still unbelievable, as the beginning stages of pregnancy often are. Wish us luck with #2! :)

Scary Times: Part 4

Part 1
Part 2
Part 3

Where were we? Oh yes - everything was better. We were literally driving in the sunshine, discussing how amazing it felt to have the worry taken off of our shoulders. (Is the worry really ever gone though? Really?)

Later that week, we noticed Lucy's groin area was still swollen. We reassured each other that the surgeon, Dr. A, said that it was normal. We were to only watch for a fever and redness. Neither were prevalent; so, there weren't any problems. Right? Right.

As days continued, Lucy was still acting completely normal. She was perhaps even a bit more active and happy than usual. However, we kept our eyes on the swelling. It was obviously more swollen, because it had moved from just her groin area, into her right labia a little bit. Again, he told us this would happen.

On Saturday morning we decided to take a trip to the pumpkin patch. My mom and Alex were going to come too. I was on the phone with my mom when Heath called to me.

"Cori, it's a lot more swollen."

I didn't expect it to see what I saw. It was alarmingly swollen. I say the word 'alarmingly' because everyone kept trying to down-play it to me when I would describe it to them. Once they saw it, their reaction was, "Whoa!" I was simply shocked. I asked Heath, when he changed her diaper this morning was it that bad? He said no. It was almost like it had just puffed up like crazy in just a few hours.

I told my mom about it and told her I was going to call Children's. I had the number for Dr. A still on my phone. However, I knew he had been on call the weekend before, so I wouldn't be getting a hold of him.  Another doctor answered. I introduced myself and Lucy's case. He was not familiar. That part was kind of frustrating. I told him about the swelling and used the word 'alarmingly'. His reaction was blah. As long as she doesn't have a fever and it isn't read, then no big deal. I'm paraphrasing of course.

I got off the phone, looked at her groin again. That can NOT be normal I told myself.

Heath and I thought that maybe we could give her a bath. Dr. A had said that the soap and water was good for her incision. So, she soaked in the tub, playing, for about 20 or 30 minutes. Afterward, it looked...well, almost worse. It now looked a little purplish. Not quite red though.

I thought to myself, if only I could talk to our doctor, Dr. B. Maybe if I called the hospital, they could contact her for me. It was worth a try. I called the hospital and she was there! She was only in for a couple of hours that day and I managed to catch her. (Thank you to whoever was having a baby that day!)

After I told her about it, she suggested that we just make a trip into the E.R.; she wanted to take a look at it. I was still optimistic. I asked my mom (who was also shocked when she saw it) and Alex to ride along. After the hospital trip, we would head to the pumpkin patch.

We arrived at the E.R. Dr. B had us just sit in the waiting room, so we wouldn't be charged for coming into the E.R. How nice was that? We waited about ten minutes. I was nervous. I sat on a steely, diner-type chair against the wall and watched my mom play with Lucy and Alex. She was always so calm and collected in these situations. I couldn't gage Heath. He sat just to the right of me, watching too. He didn't have a nervous tic like I did. My eyes were drawn to my shaking, right-foot. It was crossed over my left leg and my nerves caused it to move erratically side to side. I immediately put both of my feet on the floor and grabbed the chair. I needed to get myself under control.

Dr. B arrived. As soon as we got Lucy's diaper off, she said, "Oh, yeah. Let me call Children's."

She exited the room. We put Lucy's diaper and pants back on. I asked Heath, "Are we headed back to Omaha?"

His reply, with a regretful face, was, "Sounds like it."

Dr. B came back in after speaking to the same doctor I had called just an hour before hand. They decided that since Lucy was acting normal, we could wait to head back up to Omaha until Monday morning at 9 am. Dr. B thought that the abscess had come back and it was more than likely staph again. Finally, she told us that she thought that the surgeon would have to "go in" this time to clean it out. We took that for what it was worth and didn't ask a lot of questions.

We could take Lucy home, not to the pumpkin patch, and watch her. We couldn't give her pain medicine, because we needed to monitor her for a fever. If she had a fever or didn't act like herself, then we needed to go to the Children's E.R. again. I was scared; but, Dr. B was right. Lucy was completely acting normal. She was having so much fun. I knew though that the next two days and nights would be hell on my nerves.

We picked up Lucy's prescription for another anitbiotic (her fourth) at Walmart. She ran around like a maniac - typical Lucy. It was comforting. It wasn't until that evening, that Lucy changed. Ironically enough, when the Cornhuskers went into the locker room for half-time against Ohio State, down by 21 points, Lucy really started to act oddly. We were all feeling a bit queasy...but Lucy was more than just disgusted with the Huskers' performance. She seemed really tired. She didn't want to walk anymore and she had a temperature of 100 degrees. Heath and I decided to take Lucy to Omaha. We knew that we would never feel comfortable about being home and we wouldn't be able to sleep well knowing that she had a low-grade temperature. After packing some bags, we got out of the house around 10:30 pm.

The drive up I just kept asking Heath, "You don't think they will send us home do you?"

I mean, they didn't send us up there right away the first time. Would they dismiss us this time too?

He assured me that we would be staying the night. Lucy slept on the drive, while we listened to the last few minutes of the Husker game. This trip was much different. I wasn't panicking. I was nervous; but, I knew what to anticipate. I was a pro by now at the processes of Children's - right? Well...that is what I kept telling myself.

We got to the E.R. Nobody had a familiar face; it was a whole new staff. We checked in and were immediately ushered to the first check-up room. Wow - that was a change!  The nurse looked her over. She now had a temperature of 102 degrees. I said aloud, "Good thing we left when we did then. I'm glad we came in."

The E.R. nurse said he would get us a room quicker, since Lucy had been there just a few weeks before. And, that he did! We sat in the waiting room for maybe five minutes. I was much more pleased with our experience this time. We entered the E.R. room. I searched for familiar faces at the nurses' station - none.

The E.R. process was similar. I was doing really well. I had already talked myself through it. I knew that she would have to have blood drawn. I knew that they would need to insert an IV. I knew she wouldn't be able to drink. I was prepared to hold her down. I was not, however, prepared for the nurse to poke around in Lucy's arm for a solid two minutes looking for a vein. It was like watching Lucy get tortured. Heath was having a rough time with it, considering his light-headedness. I was annoyed and felt so bad for Lucy. I actually looked at Heath once, huffed, and shook my head.

"START OVER!" I wanted to yell.

We were finally taken to a room upstairs. We had to explain our story another 20 times. This time our story was much longer....well, as you can imagine. I had to go over parts one through three of our scary journey. I tried to remember all of her antibiotics' names, our family history of illnesses, and the many other facts about Lucy's behavior, eating, drinking, peeing, and pooping behavior, etc.

Since they knew Lucy had staph last time, everyone had to wear face masks, disposable gowns, and gloves in the room with us. Heath and I just stood there in street clothes, apparently taking in the infection - ? I figured they didn't want to spread it all over the hospital.

We were finally left alone to sleep at 2:45 am.

They started Lucy on antibiotics. We would have another CT scan in the morning. No one could tell for sure yet if this was staph again. We didn't even know if this was the same abscess or a different one yet.  Time would tell.

- To Be Continued -

Scary Times: Part 3

[As most of you may know, our Scary Times "saga" continued this last weekend. It looks like this three part story may have just become a 5 or 6 parter. Stay tuned...]

Part 1
Part 2

The last morning in the hospital was bittersweet. We were so ready to go home; but, we were nervous about not having Lucy monitored closely. We, once again, had a night of constant interrupted sleep. It ended with us being woken up at 7 am by the surgeon resident.  In our sleep deprived state, we still somehow found humor...

The surgeon resident, who was of Indian descent, asked if Lucy had been, "em, meeking da farrts?"

I giggled like an immature school girl as soon as he left. I took it as a good sign for my future state of mind. Little did I know that I would be "taking a test" later on that day.

A little after noon, we were visited by the home health care nurses.  Lucy had to be given antibiotics for the next two weeks, even though we were headed home. These antibiotics needed to be administered through the picc line that was inserted during surgery. The picc line was a tube that went into her arm, just above her inner elbow. It ran up her arm and into her heart. It would allow the antibiotics to be centrally dispersed. Surely, only a qualified, medical staff member could administer those right?

Nope. Say hello to nurse Cori and nurse Heath.

We were walked through the process:

First, prime the antibiotic line by attaching the syringe to the tube and pushing out any air. It is important not to have any air in the line, because it goes straight to her heart. Talk about stressful!!!

Then, wipe off the end of the picc line with one, two, three iodine wipes. Let it dry for 30 seconds. During this time do not let the end touch anything. Then, wipe the end of the picc line off with one, two, three alcohol wipes. Again, don't let it touch anything or you have to start over. We couldn't risk any bacteria getting into the line. Then, put in 5 ml of saline. Again, no air. Attach the antibiotic tube. Let the machine (which we also had to learn how to use) push in the antibiotics for the next thirty minutes. When the alarm goes off, you turn off the machine. Before you disconnect the tube, we must again wipe the connection place with three iodine pads, dry 30 seconds, wipe with three alcohol pads. Then, 5 ml more of saline and 2 ml of heparin. No air in either of those syringes, remember!

That isn't too bad for once a day, right? No - it isn't. How about three times a day? Every eight hours? Yep. Awful. We were doing it at 6 am, 2 pm, and 10 pm. And, we had to remember to set the antibiotic out (from the fridge) 30 minutes before, so it wasn't cold. Lucy had to sit still too.

I apparently passed the "absolutely, completely unqualified parental test" that they gave me. Which means, I did it once in front of them and they gave me a handout. Needless to say, I was stressing pretty hard about doing this for the next 10+ days!

In addition to the picc line, we also had to flush her drain and measure the nasty, infected output once a day. Gross...TMI...but it smelt awful. (Grandma and Grandpa: TMI stands for "too much information".)

The days at home were long. I felt like I had a newborn again. Lucy slept awful. It was like she was having night terrors or something. I debated if she was traumatized by the hospital or if she was in pain. Without her being able to talk, your guess is as good as mine. We had to set an alarm to get up around 5:15 am to set out the antibiotic. Day and night were no longer differentiated.

Heath and I were stressed. We were getting on each other's cases. Through all of this, we internalized a lot of our pain. We rarely hugged or patted each other on the back. We forgot to comfort each other. You feel so much like you are the one who needs comforting that you forget that someone else does too. Heath felt it just as much as me. It was difficult to remember.

Thursday came. Lucy was going to get her drain out. Whew! One tube gone and one less thing to worry about. We made the trip to Omaha again, to Dr. A's office. I liked Dr. A. He was comforting. He was real with us. He treated us like real people and not just another face.

Dr. A entered the room. We somewhat dreaded getting the drain out, because of the pain Lucy would feel. But, we looked forward to her being able to run around without tripping on the bag.  The drain came out with ease. No problems there. However, Dr. A had some additional information for us.

"The abscess culture came back. I was expecting to see, well, poop, with the appendicitis. The only bug we saw was....staph."

After the initial shock of hearing "staph", Heath and I gather a few questions in our mind. "How did she get it? So, it isn't appendicitis? How do we know for sure that it wasn't her appendix? What now? How do we explain all of these appendicitis type symptoms?"

Dr. A had no idea how Lucy got a staph infection. Neither did we. Apparently we have staph all over our bodies all the time; it isn't like she got it from someone else. He was pretty sure that it wasn't appendicitis now. Staph commonly settles in the iliopsoas muscle (a muscle that runs from your spine down the right-side of your leg, right next to the appendix). I say commonly, because in adults this is common. Common for Lucy's age? Nope. It is even rarer than appendicitis. Dr. A compared it to getting struck by lighting.

He said he was pretty sure that it was just staph and not appendicitis. Therefore, he recommended that we not go on with the surgery to get Lucy's appendix out. He actually said, "If it was my daughter...(30 second pause)..I'd ride it out."  This didn't exactly provide us with the peace of mind we wanted. We apparently just had to monitor Lucy closely, just in case it was the appendix.

Stressful.

Our minds were reeling. What just happened? Everything we thought we knew was out the window. We were told to continue to the antibiotics per usual and then get the picc line out a week later.

The days continued the same. On Sunday, Heath was administering the antibiotics. When he started the machine, Lucy started coughing and almost gasping for air. Her face turned instantly red and her lips turned blue. Heath yelled for me to come closer. My mind went blank and all I could yell was, "Turn it off!" My heart was sinking. I was trying so hard to remember the rules to infant CPR.

Within a few seconds of turning it off, the color came back to her lips and she was breathing normal. Her face remained dark red. I shakily dialed the number to our local home health care. The nurse, who I didn't know, told me to try the antibiotics again. Yeah, no. So, I called Childrens. Thankfully Dr. A was on call that weekend! I was able to speak with him directly. He said to leave it off and to clamp the picc line back. We would switch to oral antibiotics. He suspected something was wrong with the picc line "mechanics."

That moment was excruciatingly scary. But, we were happy to be done with that damn picc line!

We scheduled a time to go in on Tuesday to get the picc line out - two days before we were originally scheduled. We, again, looked forward to the visit. We wanted all of this to be over. Dr. A took out the picc line with just a snip of a stitch and a tug. He looked and it was clogged. We were basically expanding the tube and blocking her blood flow. Scary. Scary. Scary.

Dr. A took another look at Lucy's abscess site and how it was healing. There was some obvious swelling. It even looked bigger than last time, in Lucy's groin area. He told us to expect the lymph nodes to swell a bit. We were to call him if it got red or if she got a fever. We discussed again the possibility of this all being her appendix. He stuck to his same recommendation. He felt pretty confident that it was just staph.

On the way home, we scheduled an appointment with our doctor, Dr. B. We really, really trust her. We wanted her opinion on the appendix vs. the only staph idea. She told us that the appendix rupture would have included some type of e. coli in the culture results. This culture didn't have that; so, she was pretty certain that this was only staph. She said the only confusion for them was how the heck did Lucy get this? Ditto.

We left her office with the weight off of our shoulders. It was a sunny day and this thing was behind us. We now just had to finish her oral antibiotics on Saturday and we were done...or so we thought.

- To Be Continued -

Scary Times: Part 2

For Part 1, go to: http://www.ilovelucyjean.com/2011/10/scary-times-part-1.html.

After what can only be called an emotional, exhausted, mental breakdown on both our parts, Heath continued to Walmart to get our overnight supplies. I was falling in and out of sleep when he returned. We decided to go into the bathroom to talk and to turn on a light. We didn't want to wake Lucy.

Heath showed me each of the items that he got, and looked for approval on the yoga pants and Huskers shirt he picked up for me at Walmart. Finally, for our culinary delight, he set a fountain drink caddy and a brown fast-food bag on the bathroom counter. Let me tell you something first...

Remember how I mentioned that we had gone to the doctor the day before? Well, when driving through town, I spotted the Burger King sign, "New California Whopper". I started to tell Heath that I had enough bad experiences at Burger King that the thought of even eating there made me want to gag. He kind of chuckled and said that he saw the same sign and thought the same thing. We then had a short 30 second rant on how gross it had become to us.

Guess what logo was on the side of that brown paper bag on the hospital bathroom counter? You guessed it: Burger King. Only in our hellish day could fate throw that type of irony at us. It was the only fast-food place open that late in the immediate area - even McDonalds was closed.

Oddly enough, we laughed. I think when you spend the entire day thanking the Lord for your many blessings, you just stop complaining. We stood in the bathroom, giggling like pre-teen girls who had stayed up too late, stuffing our faces. Heath munched on a chicken sandwich, while I poked around on chicken fingers. They were a little too crispy and were basically all breading. But, if you dipped them in the sauce, simply labeled "Zesty", they weren't too awful. I was more pumped about the fountain drink and swigged that caffeine right down. Heath and I somewhat reflected on the day. We knew there was much more to come though.

The nurses came in throughout the night to check Lucy's vitals. Lucy woke up and cried each time. By this time, she didn't trust any strangers that came in the door. I would help calm her each time they came in.

We woke up around 7 am to several nurses and doctors entering the room. I greeted them with my puffy eyes, no make-up, and morning breath. I'm sure I looked like a gem. Did I mention that I hadn't showered yet either? We were told that Lucy's surgery wouldn't be until the afternoon. This made it a long morning.

Heath decided to head home to get more things. It was obvious that we would be there for a couple more days. This gave me too much time to think. I was alone for about 2 1/2 hours. During that time, I held Lucy in the recliner, squeezed her tight, and well, panicked. I would start thinking about the surgery and start to work myself up so much that I thought I might be sick. My heart was racing and my face was red. I had to talk myself down several times. I've never felt such panic in my life.

I tried to ease my mind by asking one of the random nurses - or doctors or helpers or whoever she was in scrubs - that came in, if I could be with Lucy until she fell asleep from the anesthetic. She said yes. Whew! That made me feel a little better.

Thankfully my Aunt Amy showed up and once I had a good cry with her, I was distracted. It was so nice having someone in the room again, besides Lucy. When my Uncle Matt and Heath showed up, my mind was even more free. I was able to joke and laugh again. My heart stopped beating out of my chest.

Visitors came and went before the surgery that evening. It was originally scheduled for 5 pm...then 5:45 pm....then 6:30 pm....and then I think it was 7 pm when we started to head down. Heath carried Lucy as I held back tears. Some slowly streamed down my face as we walked down the hall and took the slow elevator ride down. Heath's sister, Heather, was crying, as well as my mother-in-law. I couldn't even bring my eyes up from the floor at the fear of losing it completely.

We were taken to a room to wait. A nurse came in to talk to us. Then, the surgeon came in and explained things. Finally, two nurses came to get Lucy. I realized then, that the scrubs lady had lied to me. We weren't going to be with Lucy when she went to sleep. I quickly told the nurse that I was misinformed. She shared my annoyance.

It simply broke my heart. Lucy was taken by a stranger, to an unfamiliar place, and all we could do was wave at her. I wrapped my arms around Heath.

I said, in between crying breaths, "I wanna kick that nurse who told me that!"

I wanted to do more than just kick her; but, my motherly, censored mouth came up with "kick" and kept me from calling her a much worse name.

During surgery, I was again oddly calm and optimistic. Being in the colorful lobby was comforting. Staring at the huge banners about being named the number one children's hospital in two areas of practice was comforting. Family was comforting.

The surgeon came out, said it was done, and it went great. I thought to myself that the hardest part was over. I breathed a sigh of relief and couldn't wait to get to Lucy. I just wanted to squeeze her so tightly. I actually sped walked, following closely.

There she was - puffy and still drowsy from the anesthetic. I hugged her and carried her back to her room. I thought that the night would be a peaceful one. Lucy would sleep...well, like a baby. It would be the best night of sleep she had in a long time. After lots of kisses from family, everyone but Heath's mom, Jeannie, left.

Everyone missed it, but Jeannie.

The morphine. Oh my gosh, the morphine. It caused Lucy to have fits. She didn't want anything touching her. She hit us, the bed, her thousands of cords hooked up to her. She rolled around furiously. She'd shout "owwiee" and "mommy". I'd try to pick her and she'd just hit me and push me away. There was no calming her. This happened all night long. We quickly learned that all we could do was move the cords out of her way and keep her from hitting her head on the bed side. Every time the nurses came in for vitals, it happened.

Jeannie left around midnight, and two morphine induced fits.

At around 2 am, I lost it. I bawled to Heath. I hated watching her like that. I hated hearing her yell "Mommy" and not be able to do anything for her. I cried. I cried hard. I stopped holding my tears back and finally allowed them to flow. I allowed the breath to escape from my lungs. I collapsed and emotionally checked out.

Thank God for my brave husband. He took over for the night, keeping the cords out of Lucy's way during each of her "fits". I sat near the couch and watched from across the room. It was a trying night.

They finally took her off the morphine at around 7 am. Then she slept like a rock. She slept like I had imagined she would sleep the night before. She was peaceful and calm. It was nice...until around 4 pm. Then, it became worrisome.

"Is she supposed to sleep this much? Is this normal"

We finally got her to open her eyes for some apple juice around 5 pm. Then, she saw me eating some macaroni and cheese and opened her mouth for some. Ahh....that was my Lucy! Sometime in between bites she fell back asleep.

Lucy slept for over 24 hours straight. It did allow for us to sleep some too.

The next day, our mission was to get her to eat.

We tried all day. It was a slow process; but, it got better with each meal. Her cousin Alex came to visit her too. They were able to go for a wagon ride around the floor. We ended up in the playroom. Lucy was almost herself. It was a wonderful feeling. Besides her puffiness, the bandages and her drain bag, she looked happy.

She still took long naps; but, at least she played in between.

Things were looking up and it really did seem like the worst was behind us. All we had to do now was wait for the second surgery...

- To Be Continued -

Scary Times: Part 1

Where have I been? Well, most of you know. But, here is my completely un-Halloween related scary story - the worst type of scary...

Lucy had been fighting something. She was having the occasional fever and she had been tugging on her ear. She was even turning her pacifier to the side and chewing on it. I thought for sure she was teething, with her two-year molars, and the ear infection came with it.

I stayed home with her a few days and it seemed like she got better. Later that week it came back; but, this time it didn't subside. Finally, we decided to take her to the doctor. She needed to get that ear infection taken care of.  On that Wednesday morning, we took her in. She had one ear infection and the other ear was getting one too. Poor girl. We picked up some oral antibiotics and headed home.

That night Lucy started to say, "Ouchie." We had also started to notice her favoring her leg. We thought for sure that she had hit her knee at DayCare or something similar. But, by the next day, the favoring had become a limp, and she wouldn't even put weight on her right leg. I continued to think it had nothing to do with her fever and ear infections. Why would it?  Heath got paranoid enough that he decided to call our doctor.

"Cori, Dr. B sounded really concerned. She wants me to bring Lucy in right away."

At that point it was still unclear to us how the two could be linked. We had done some googling that only left us freaked out. Apparently, an infection can settle in a joint...like a hip joint.

We walked into the same waiting room that we were just in the day before. This time, our hearts were beating just a bit faster. I kept telling Heath, and myself, "It's going to be alright. She'll be just fine."

Our doctor didn't seem to be nervous or worrisome. It helped calm our nerves. She said she wanted to take an x-ray, to make sure it wasn't her hip bone, and that they wanted to take some blood. They took some blood and while the test was running, we were escorted to the x-ray room. It took both of us to hold her down.

The x-ray? Normal.

Great. We sat in the examination room, playing with a puzzle. There was an odd sense of optimism.

The next few moments were kind of a blur. The doctor walked in, accompanied by three nurses. She didn't say anything but, "Lucy is very sick."

I know that she followed up by saying that she was sending her to Children's Hospital, they would run an IV, and that Lucy's white blood cells were doubled. I just can't remember in what order. I was still stuck on, "Lucy is very sick."

I'd be lying if I said that cancer hadn't crossed my mind.

I managed to muster, "So, she'll be going by ambulance?"

"Yes. I'll call and they will be expecting you."

We asked what she thought it could possibly be. She said an infection in her joint or possibly even her appendix, which would be very rare.

In the blur of movement and conversation, we had to hold Lucy down for the nurses to insert an IV. Heath sat in the corner chair, unable to watch the needle penetrate Lucy's skin. I stood over Lucy, telling her that it would be okay - not knowing if I was lying or not. My fearful tears began to fall near Lucy's head.

The doctor re-entered to tell us that Children's had requested Lucy to come in "as-is". That way they could run accurate tests once she arrived. We were then given the option to drive her up; we took it.

As long as the drive to Omaha should have been, it really wasn't. We took turns calling our family members and trying to give them a run-down of what just happened. I only called my mom and started crying so hysterically, that Heath had to call everyone else for me. It was rough; but, Heath was so brave for me and Lucy. I am very thankful.

We entered the ER at Children's to wait for almost two hours. My fear turned to annoyance and then quickly to anger. I watched a girl with a sprained ankle go in before us. Didn't they know that Lucy was "very sick"? Being in an urban hospital was very different than what I was used to. We were literally just being shuffled around. We met numerous nurses and doctors. We had to retell our story to several people.

We finally made it to an ER examination room at about 5:30 pm. They took more blood, while I had to hold Lucy down again. They also took her vitals and looked in her ears. The IV also needed replaced to be compatible with their equipment. It was very hard for me to accompany them, holding Lucy still, against her will. I just wished I could explain to her what was going on.

We asked the ER nurse what they thought it was. He said that they were testing her for blood infections and so on. He explained a little more; but, my mind stayed wrapped around blood infection. It scared me.

Every time Heath and I were in the room alone, we would obsess over what was going on and all the horrible, possible outcomes. Thank goodness I had scared my mom on the phone enough that she had immediately headed north, with my sister and her family. They came just at the right time. I was verging on a complete breakdown.

One of the several doctors we met with ordered an ultrasound. By the time we go into the ultrasound room, it was about 8:30 pm. They found no fluid on her hip joint. So, basically, it was back to the drawing board. The tech called the radiologist. He said to check her ovaries. That scared me too. I shuttered at the thought of little Lucy not being able to have children of her own. At some point, they also checked her appendix.

We were ushered back to the room and then told that her appendix had an abscess (a pocket of infection). It had more than likely ruptured. They wanted to do a CT scan, to confirm. We finally had the CT scan at around 10:30 pm. My family had left once they found out more about what was going on.

Again, we had to hold Lucy down while they strapped her in. She was so tired at that point; we all were. Thankfully she fell asleep in the machine. The CT confirmed an abscess around the appendix. It was also surrounding her bladder, her ovaries, her hip muscles, lower intestine, and I think they even said it involved her uterus. Apparently her immune system was so good that her organs walled the infection in. They kept it in one place - thank God.

We were told that the area was too inflamed and had a lot of puss, etc. around it. They couldn't take her appendix out without first cleaning the abscess out. They would have to do surgery to drain out the infection. Then, she would have to wear a bag for a week. The infection would continue to drain out, into the bag. It sounded like we had at least a couple months of this stuff left. But, for the night, we would have to stay in the hospital. Lucy would have surgery scheduled for the following day.

We finally got into a room at midnight. The day marked what would be one of the longest days of my life. Once the floor nurses poked and prodded on Lucy again, while I held her down for the hundredth time, we were left alone.

Heath was in street clothes and I had come from work, so I stood there in dress slacks and high heels. Of course, the one freaking day I actually wear heels! We decided that I would stay with Lucy. He would run out to get us some food, some pajamas, and some toothbrushes.

He left and I just sat there watching Lucy. I started to cry and pray again; but, very few tears fell. I think I was out of tears for the day. Little did I know, but Heath was sitting in the parking lot crying and praying too. Brave faces are hard to sustain. Sometimes all you can do is ask God for help and for the strength to make it through the following days.

- To Be Continued -

Parenting: I Just Don't Have the Stomach for It

I have the heart, soul, legs, back, and mind for parenting. But, stomach? Nope.

Last night, we enjoyed a nice evening. I went for a run while Heath and Lucy ran around outside. We came home, ate dinner as a family. Then, I cleaned up a bit and cut a few coupons while Heath and Lucy rolled all over the floor.

It was nice and simple, and enjoyable.

 - DO NOT CONTINUE IF YOU HAVE A WEAK STOMACH -

I decided to finally put my post-workout bum in the shower and five minutes in.....

"Cori! Lucy just threw up. I mean larger than life!"

I peek my conditioned head out of the shower and there he is. He is covered in vomit. It is on his shoulder, his cheek, down his arms, and he's holding Lucy, also covered in vomit.

"Can you get out, so we can get in?

I only had one leg shaved and conditioner in my hair.

"Can I rinse the conditioner out first?"

"Fine. Hurry."

He runs back out of the bathroom, for I don't know what reason. I throw a towel on and hop out. He comes rushing back in. He is in the exact same state, holding Lucy.

He walks past me and I start gagging. I just can't do it and I could not believe that he was just, like, bathing in it and hadn't flinched a bit.

He throws Lucy in the tub. She is also unfazed. She is just excited to be getting in the tub and hadn't shed a single tear. I watch as he peels her clothes. He then peels his own, down to his underwear. He leans over and starts pulling......gag......chunks....gag....out of her hair. He picks some up off the side of the tub and throws them in the toilet.

I'm just standing there, gagging, shaking my head, and holding a towel over my nose.

"Do you want to give her a bath, while I go clean the stairs?" he asks.

"Um, yes!" Do I want to scrub it off the stairs? Absolutely not!

Apparently, he picked Lucy up to go to bed. When he was walking up the stairs she started heaving. She threw up a little on the stairs and he tried to catch/shield it. Then, he ran through the kitchen, making a trail, to the sink. Then she threw up so more.

Awesome.

He left the bathroom. Lucy was in the tub, with the water running, playing with a bucket.

I stood there, a good three feet away, watching her. Course of action?

1) Turn the air vent on. Gross...
2) Get myself clothed.
3) Drain the tub water and start with new, clean, vomit-free water.
4) Freak out a little bit when having to reach into the water to pull the plug.
5) Refill the tub.
6) Use toilet paper to pull out the remaining remnants in Lucy's hair.
7) Gag some more.
8) Steal the bucket from Lucy and dump water on her head.
9) Continuing giving the bath, like normal.

It was a late night, well, later than usual. Lucy seemed fine. I think she ate too many chicken nuggets - five!

Heath's comment about the whole ordeal, besides telling me what a good team we were at cleaning up?

"I don't think Lucy really chews her food."

"Nope."

Oh and my leg never did get shaved. I have to be careful how I cross my legs...I hide the unshaven one in back...haha.

Pride VS Development

Are you truthful with the doctor about your child? Don't get me wrong; I am. But, do you ever struggle with answers to your doctor's questions? I have issues with my pride and Lucy's development.

Every doctor's visit we get a check list for Lucy.

• Does she know her name?
• Does she say mommy/daddy, or some variation?
• Does she assist you with dressing her?
• Does she try to climb?

These are just a few of the questions I can remember from her last two visits (12 & 15 month).

Sometimes they are difficult to answer. The bragger mom in me wants to say, "Yes! My child is super smart and can do anything!" The paranoid mom in me wants to answer the question correctly. I hate that the only options are: Yes and No.

Where is my 'Maybe'?

Does Lucy assist me while dressing her? Well, kind of. Sometimes she puts her arm out. Sometimes when I say shoe, she'll raise her foot to me. On other occasions, I may as well be dressing a watermelon; she just lays there like a slug. Then again, on some occasions, I might as well be dressing a....well...a squirmy, unruly toddler, trying to crawl away mid pants change!

Alright, so I would check 'Yes'. I just always feel the need to follow up with an essay answer.

When the doctor goes over the questions and answers with us, I feel like my parenting skills are being tested.

"How many words does Lucy know?"

"Oh, lots.....um....."

I start counting on my fingers, while quietly whispering, "...momma, dada, Chico, thank you, please, puppy, baby.." and so on.

Finally I just blurt out, "... like ten."

Immediately, I think, "Does 'thank you' count as two words then? Lucy also says, 'Here you go.' Does that count as three? Or, since I counted the 'you' in 'thank you' already, is it just two?" - Ugh!

I just want to say, "Lucy is really smart and she amazes me with everything she knows! We try to work with her as much as possible and sometimes she says or does things I didn't even realize she knew!"

I have to remind myself that the doctor isn't questioning Lucy's intelligence and she isn't grilling me on my parenting. She is asking, so she can recognize developmental problems.

Cori - she is asking you, so she can recognize developmental problems!

At the 15 month appointment, we were asked how many body parts Lucy knows. Dang it! We haven't even been working with her on it. We didn't really even realize that she was old enough learn them. When I think about it....well, duh! Therefore, we've been working on them a lot. She already knows foot, nose, belly button, eyes, and mouth.

She's going to ace that 18 month appointment. haha.

Oh wait, this isn't about questioning her intelligence or my parenting skills...I obviously need to refer back to the underlined text above.

Do you see the issue? Am I the only one?

Birth Plan

About a year ago today, I was perfecting my Birth Plan. I was giving copies to my husband, my sister, the doctor, and the nurses - basically everyone who would be in the delivery room with me!

I had thought a lot about how I wanted my labor and delivery to go. Like a movie of course! Except - a movie where I actually get there on time to have an epidural! Anyway - And, after going to birthing classes and knowing more of what my options were, I felt ready to visualize. My initial thoughts were: safe and painless! My two biggest goals. However, when you start getting into the details, it's a lot to think about!

I was encouraged to do a Birth Plan; but, I wasn't sure how helpful it would actually be. Take it from me though, it was great! It helped in three ways: 1) It made me think about the process and I felt better prepared for an emergency change of plans. 2) It helped Heath and my sister to know what I had planned, in case I wasn't in the 'mood' to be telling them during the labor. :) 3) It let the nurses and my doctor know ahead of time what I was planning for. They were able to assist me SO much more, by knowing my feelings.

When I was writing a birth plan, I had to scour the Internet for ideas - just to make sure I covered it all! I thought I was able to make a pretty complete plan. So, since I've been thinking about that day a lot (as Lucy's 1st Birthday approaches), I thought I would share my plan. Hopefully, it will help any mothers-to-be out there to make a plan of their own. I recommend doing it! :)

I know that everyone's plans are different. Perhaps you are planning a natural birth or even a water birth - either way, I hope this helps provoke thought and/or memories!

By the way, of course this was in a Word document, in cute text, with maroon titles and bullets. :)

Cori {Last Name}’s Birth Plan
Due Date: February 10, 2010
Supporters: My husband, Heath {Last Name} and my sister, { First & Last Name}
*Please be aware that my husband has high anxiety about hospitals, needles, and above all, surgery.
Basics: This is our first baby; therefore, we may need to have more direction than ‘an experienced’ couple. We are open to any and all information that your staff would like to share with us about the labor and post labor. We trust the judgment of our doctor and the nursing staff to make decisions that are in the best interest of our baby and for me. We understand that this plan is not set in stone and could change at moment’s notice. However, we have decided to share with you what we hope to achieve with the birthing experience.

I feel as though I should share my own anxiety about the IV and an epidural. I do not like to be talked through these processes. I would rather look away and only told when the procedure is completed. – Thank you

Induction: We are open to the idea of an induction, if it is recommended by our doctor. Otherwise, I would like to go into labor naturally.

Pain Relief:· I plan to request an epidural; however, I do not and will not know when the proper time is for this. Please suggest it, when appropriate.
· As for other pain relievers, I do not foresee their use at this time. However, please suggest it, if the situation seems appropriate.

Environment during Labor:· I plan to change positions, as well as walk around, unless told otherwise.
· If it is a ‘middle-of-the-night’ labor, I would like to alternate walking and napping.
· My husband and sister will keep guests to a minimum (if they are at all allowed) and will ask them to wait in the hall during cervical checks.

During the Delivery:· I hope to be sitting up during delivery.
· At this time, I do not want to use a mirror.
· I’d only like an episiotomy, if there is a medical emergency. Otherwise, please allow time for the perineum to stretch naturally.

Post Delivery:· My husband does not want to catch the baby; but, he does want to cut the umbilical cord. He will inform you, if he changes his mind.
· As routine, I would like to hold the baby immediately after the birth.
· My husband and I do not wish to see the placenta after birth.
· I plan on trying to breastfeed; however, I am new to the process. Please advise me on when and how to do so.
· I will accept guests after the baby has been breastfed and not during.
· I would like the baby to stay in my room with us during my entire hospital stay, if possible. (I totally changed my mind on this after doing it! Let the nurses take them to the nursery!)· If for some reason the baby needs to be taken from the delivery room, I would like my husband to escort her when possible.
· If the baby surprises us and is a boy, then we would like a circumcision.

Caesarean Option:· I hope to avoid a c-section, if at all possible.

If a C-Section is necessary:· I would like my husband and my sister to be present in the surgery room.
· Please keep discussion with me minimal. Considering my husband’s and my own anxieties, I do not wish to know what you are doing (making an incision, etc.).
· Once she is born, we do wish to see her.
· Also, please inform us of the steps you are taking with the baby (she is being weighed, checked, etc.).
· Although I realize there will be moments of separation, we would like to stay with the baby as much as possible. If I cannot go with the baby, please let my husband know if he is welcome to be with her.

Notes:____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Whew! That is a lot of information, right? It is amazing how it takes me right back to the delivery of Lucy! :) It makes me smile.

I took copies of this to my doctor about 3 weeks before my due date and we read through it together. It also provoked a lot of discussion about the labor and delivery. I don't regret taking the time to do this at all and I don't think I ever will!

Happy birth-planning to all new mothers! Everyone else? I guess, have a good day! :)

Health Check

I've always been a pretty paranoid person. You can ask my husband. He is constantly saying, "Nothing bad is going to happen; you just have to trust that." Well, hunny-dew, easier said than done.

Lucy will roll over to her side in the middle of the night and I'll see it on the video monitor.

"Heath, she's on her side. What do you think? Do you think I should go roll her back over? I worry about her." Of course, I've woken him up. He doesn't even roll over and look at me or the monitor anymore.

"She's fine Cori; go to sleep."

"But, I worry about her Heath."

"She's fiiiine."

Well, about three-weeks ago, I was changing out of my work clothes and into my lounging around the house garb. I went to make a bra adjustment and noticed a small knot on my right breast. Hmmm.....I felt a little more and then said something to Heath. He felt too.

"You should probably go get that checked out."

"Yeah, I probably should."

That was basically where it ended. It was small and not at all what I imagined a cancer lump would be like. In fact, it was more of a knot than a lump; so, I blew it off. I kept telling myself that it was something to do with the pregnancy and/or breast feeding.

About a week and a half later, I was changing again and doing the same bra adjustment. There it was, again. This time it seemed easier to find. Larger? I'm not sure; but it seemed more prominent. I tried to talk myself into the fact that it was nothing. Why? I'm not sure. I made an additional comment to Heath about it; but, he didn't stress an appointment either. I think both of us were just trying to be optimistic and not jump to conclusions......or some would say being ignorant.

It was that weekend that I spent a lot of time with Lucy. I put her to bed one night and began to pray. I prayed about all of the usual things and then thought of a few others that I wanted to pray for. When thinking about it, I occasionally pray for a mom I read about who is currently battling cancer; she has two young children. I remember reading her story for the first time and how it broke my heart. Well, it impacted me so much that she and her family are routinely in my prayers.

It dawned on me that I was doing what she had done - and so many others I've heard about. I was putting this appointment off. I was talking myself out of worrying. For what? Why? It was shear laziness on my part. I have good insurance, a good doctor, and sick-leave at work. What the heck was I waiting for?

So, my psyche got the best of me and I called for an appointment on Monday morning, last Monday. I got in for the very next day - possibly the soonest I've ever gotten in! I was very apprehensive and I think the visit actually made Heath a bit nervous too. When I made the appointment and she said, "What's this for?", I had to answer, "I noticed a bump on my breast." It really made the whole situation hit home. Yes, it could be nothing; but, what were your first thoughts? Exactly.

There I was, in the waiting room, again telling myself it was nothing. I soon enough got to the room and my doctor came in. She studied the knot and squeezed it a bit. It wasn't sore and you could move it around - two things I've been told are good. She said, "Well, I'm not worried." Whew!! Relief. Then she said, "It is close enough to the surface; how about we cut it out and see what it is?

"Umm.....okay-?"

I trust my doctor 100%; so, I wasn't going to question her. Plus, I kind of wanted to see what it was myself. Next thing I know, I was walking into the clinic prep-room. I assume it's where they do stitches and that kind of stuff. I laid down anticipating that cutting my boob open would be very painful!

She got the numbing needle and started to inject the medicine. Honestly, it was probably one of the least painful shots I've ever had. It was surprising to say the least. Then, she said, "Ohp, it popped."

What do you mean it popped? I quickly imagined some sort of ketchup packet like thing exploding and the remnants floating around in my breast forever.

"It was just a cyst. I thought it was too hard to be a cyst; but, that's what it was. I hit it with the needle and it just burst." She then stated that she thought it was a something-something-noma. I didn't know and I didn't ask.

Of course I followed up with what causes a cyst and that type of thing; but, I was more relieved that it 1) wasn't serious and 2) I didn't have to have stitches in my boob! I will admit though, I was a little bummed that I didn't get to see it. I was semi-excited for that.

When I called Heath, the first thing he said was, "Good news?" It made me realize how much he was secretly worrying about me. He always tries to be so strong, for me. But, I am so thankful most times.

This entire experience has changed me. It was nothing; but it could have been something! And not once did my doctor or the nurses make me feel stupid for coming in. I never felt that it was a waste of time and even now, I don't feel that way. I need to guarantee myself that I am doing everything I can to keep myself healthy - if not for me, for Lucy.

I strongly encourage everyone to get a yearly physical, if you don't already. And, I encourage you to get questionable things checked out. It took two hours of my day and it put my mind at rest. If you are contemplating a visit, please go. You won't regret it. Maybe it's good to be paranoid sometimes.