Yesterday we found our first double-yolk egg. We’re not sure who laid it, but I think it was probably Boots or Bitchzilla. It’s huge, but it was cracked because the shell was so misshapen and thin. So we cooked it up for Barley. Hopefully they’ll be more careful next time so I can eat it. Everyone knows quantity means quality.
We’re now past 2 months, and I feel like we won’t be knocking on wood to talk about the challenges of the past year. Madeline proved to be quite a roller coaster when compared to our pregnancy experience with Ella. From a few days after the 18 week (gestational) ultrasound until after Madeline’s 2 week (after birth) appointment, we’ve been expecting the worst.
A few days after our 18th week appointment (for Michelle), she got a call from the genetic counselor at Kaiser who had some concerns about a bright spot in the Madeline’s bowel. I got a mysterious phone call from Michelle that was so out of character that it took me a few moments to realize that something was wrong. I left work to pick her up in the park outside work and we drove home in choked up silence. We spent the afternoon trying to understand what the spot meant, and whether or not we should chase the dragon of testing and observation or bury our heads in the sand and just accept what we would be given. The echogenic bowel meant that we were potentially looking at downs syndrome (and other trysome defects), cystic fibrosis, cytomegalovirus, blockages, hirschbergers, and other minor players. But it was 70% likely that there there was nothing wrong. This was a mild point of contention between Michelle and I because I was of the opinion that 70% were good odds and since we’d not do anything to the pregnancy, why drag ourselves through the torment. Most of all, I think I was upset that this time, I wasn’t scared shitless of the prospect of a baby and this just meant that there was something that wouldn’t quite allow for the joyous anticipation of number two.
After blood testing, family history, genetic counseling and a huge amount of internet sleuthing, we found out that Michelle had cytomegalovirus, or CMV in the past. Her “numbers” suggested that it was prior to pregnancy but no one could say with confidence that we shouldn’t worry. (The 2-4 hour waits to see the doctor and ultrasound techs certainly gave us the time to.) Ultimately we were tied to a 2 week schedule of wait and see. Not much happened, though the spot got lighter as time passed. By December, the spot had become inconsequential, possibly because of meconium in the bowel, and possibly because it wasn’t anything of concern. (At times, this all seemed like a bunch of meconium..)
Anyway, by late December things looked good and we were starting to relax a little. However, our first appointment in January came with a shock. Michelle’s amniotic fluid was low and she’d need to be on bedrest for the next few weeks until term. We expected to have another month to wrap up loose ends, but the doctor said that baby may need to come out at any moment. Until that time, we’d be back to the doctor every couple days to recheck fluid levels (always with a packed bag). Luckily, Michelle’s resting and uber-hydrating worked and the fluid level went back in to the OK zone.
On the 4th of these checks, we dropped in expecting another in and out appointment (I had a presentation at 11) but were surprised when the fluid level had again dropped. That and a lower than normal heart rate caused the doctor enough concern that she scheduled an induction… for right away. We were both kind of in shock, because the baby was early and we hadn’t brought anything for a stay this time. But baby was at least to 37 weeks and the machine said she was over 5 lbs, so we had some comfort.
I ran home and repacked our scatter stay bag, called work, and rushed back to the hospital, going much faster than needed. It was the only time I could say “My wife’s having a baby” if I was pulled over. By the time I got back to the hospital, sanitized my hands for the first of 10,000 times, and found Michelle in a delivery suite, she’d notified the cavalry and people were all in motion. Unnecessarily as it turns out, because induction took all of Thursday, all of Friday, and until the wee hours of Saturday morning to take effect.
So we read, we watched non-stop coverage of Miracle on the Hudson, and played solitaire. And Michelle, who hadn’t eaten a breakfast yet, couldn’t eat anything. So she sipped broth, protein drink, and lots of cran-grape juice. Luckily she was able to eat solids during the break between induction attempts. Finally, contractions began in earnest and Madeline sprung forth on Saturday morning in all her beauty and perfection. To an almost immediate dusky episode. The nurse (Jana) moved in to quick action and bulbed out a bunch of fluid and things quickly returned to, well, not quite normal, but you know what I mean.
It turns out her rapid movement through the birth canal meant that she was still carrying a bunch of amniotic fluid in her stomach. So she tended to spit it up. But she was beautiful and looked alarmingly like Ella.
We moved over to post-delivery for a stay and again had a wonderful nurse who took great care of us while making us feel competent about being parents since we hadn’t killed the first one. Madeline did have another dusky episode which we pulled the red help cord for, shortly after having accidentally pulling it when moving the bed. But again, things seemed OK with the exception of a medium-high bilirubin level. Still, after some amazing negotiating and string pulling on Michelle’s part, we were discharged to return home to our other little girl.
The first night went ok, but Madeline ended up spending the second night in the special care nursery which I’ve already written about here.
After all that we still had a few issues with diet (no pizza, no onions, no garlic, but luckily dairy is ok) that resulted in severe gas, projectile vomiting and delayed “movements,” but now seem to have everything figured out. Madeline is doing great. She’s nearly 11 pounds after 9 weeks and starting to smile and look at us like she has no idea why we were concerned.
Michelle and I deal with stress differently. She used it to to learn as much as she could about echogenic bowel and everything it could potentially mean for our child (and her sibling). That’s a lot of information, especially with the access that Google Scholar allows. We’re very fortunate that she found this article, and that it described what was ultimately our situation. Obstetrical sonography: the best way to terrify a pregnant woman by Roy A. Filly MD. It describes the conundrum of echogenic bowel, both for the physician and the parent. And the conundrum of having machines become the truth of your child’s health and growth.
I’d not have done this much differently, but it was easy to forget that we started with a 70% change of nothing being wrong and narrowed it down with each test. We never did an amniocentesis, which would have actually potentially widened the odds that the baby might be injured, but there was sort of this system in place that you couldn’t really escape once you started. For better or worse.
In the end, I can’t be more grateful for the help, guidance and care we received – both from family and the doctors. Now we have our two beautiful girls and are glad the whole pregnancy thing is behind us. The uncertainty and stress seems like a bad dream.
Today was my first day back at work. We’ve not yet developed routine, but this morning we probably started something like one. It was a hybrid of what mornings were like 2 months ago and what mornings were like last week. Amazingly, we made it though – dog got walked, kids were fed, Michelle and I each ate something and took steps towards getting caffeine. The hard part was actually leaving my girls to rejoin the workforce. The shuttle ride to work was quite sad, partly because I didn’t recognize anyone, and partly because I’d grown accustomed to being around my family.
The day picked up though because my office mate put cookies on my desk. Breakfast cookies and coffee rock. The rest of the morning was like a light version of a regular day because no one knew I was back, and because my phone system wouldn’t allow anyone to leave voicemail.
It was nice to be back though, in some ways. I know this is a really loaded thing to say, but it was really nice to think again. I like my job and trying to do it from home with two kids was difficult and frustrating. That being said, if Michelle steps up and becomes my sugar-mamma, I’m all about going stay-at-home.
So, here comes the rest of our lives.
Ella and I took a quick trip down to Eugene to visit Uncle Joe and Aunt Zee (Lindsay), and also to give Michelle some uninterrupted work time at home. We rolled in to town around 2:30pm after a quick stop at the rest area right outside town for a potty break (Ella’s 95% done with potty training!). We stopped by the park to stretch the legs, then went to Skinner Butte to watch rock climbers. Ella was so enamored that we spent nearly an hour there with her climbing the smaller columns to the north end of the wall. She would climb up with some guidance on foot placement, then scold me for getting too close. Dad’s get to do stuff like that. Ella really wanted to actually try the main routes but I told her that she’d have to wait her turn. When there were actually unused ropes, I had a hard time talking her out of climbing. Instead, we went by the train yard to see Joe at Oakshire Brewery before heading home with him for dinner.
After dinner we played with duplos for a while then hung out, reminisced and complained about getting old over a few home brews and a bottle of Deschutes’s Abyss. Yum.
The next day we grabbed bagels and went to Alton Baker park and wandered around for a while before we had to get Lindsay back to her doctoral program grind. Ella chased seagulls around the park, then chased cats when we got back to Joe & Lindsay’s until we had to get underway.
On our way out of town, we tried to catch up with Travis and learned that Beth and Mirabess were also in town. (All our friends are moving away from Portland) Ella and Mirabess played with soft dough and ate some pizza while us adults caught up. A nice surprise before the surprisingly quiet and uneventful trip back to Portland.
Michelle and Madeline are back to work today after nearly 5 weeks off. We can’t believe that it’s actually been 5 weeks already. We haven’t established anything resembling a routine like we’d hoped. I suppose it would have been temporary anyway, but with the illnesses and such, we didn’t do a very good job of relaxing. We did however manage to paint two rooms, build most of a dresse, kill some rats and enjoy ourselves some. I’ll be going back after the first of the month so we’re trying to relish in the time with family while we can.
Michelle’s workplace is really cool about bringing the kids in, and at least with Madeline, the interruptions will be minimal. It was a little weird explaining to Ella why Madeline had to go to work. Luckily we have dance class today which is even more exciting than work.
When we first got the chickens last spring, I read Storey’s guide to chickens from cover to cover. One of the many things it covered was the issue of rodents. The coexistence of rodents and chickens is almost unavoidable because the chickens are rather messy and clumsy eaters and the design of most coops allows the small, conniving rodents access to pick up the scraps. Though nearly unavoidable, you want to reduce opportunities for rodents to the best of your abilities.
Last fall, our rodent story begain with a family of mice that set up shop in the garage to take advantage of the loosely guarded scratch (dried corn). At first, I was gentle. I caught 9 mice in 24 hours and released them all a block away at the abandoned building and blackberry thicket. But then I had to start using kill traps when the little buggers failed to take the hint. After a week or so, we’d cleaned up. No food source, no mice.
Then, about a week ago I looked outside and saw a rat. Not a tiny, cute field mouse, but a big ‘ol Norwegian. I wasn’t surprised (we live in the city after all) and the hens have a steady diet of chicken feed, scratch and kitchen scraps. I wasn’t immediately sure of what to do since we couldn’t exactly get rid of the food source (lazy, sloppy chickens), but resolve wasn’t formed until I noticed the rat had burrowed in to the compost bin and had pulled out bits of celery stalk, carrot, apple core and potato. I’d be happy to have vermicomposting , but that’s done with worms and flies, not rats. And I now know why: Rats take stuff out of the compost bin. And their tiny little feet leave prints in the snow.
So, we decided to trap. It didn’t take long for us to catch the rat, but then evidence has come in that maybe it wasn’t a solo gig. The biggest surprise of all? I was walking from the garage to the house when my foot sank. The brick I had stepped on sunk about 4 inches under my foot. Panic set in because the neighbor across the street was dealing with a drain-related sink hole. Over the next few trips between the house and the garage, another several bricks sunk underfoot. Crap.
Wondering what to do if we had a sink hole, I remembered the house we rented in SW Portland with burrowing rats who dug from the crumbling crawl space out to the middle of the yard under the bird feeder to get bird seed from underneath. So I pulled up a few bricks and discovered tunnels. The rats had created a maze of tunnels under the brick patio. Tunnels filled with chicken food and bits of compost. Impressed and annoyed, things have been escalated. I worked on cramming the tunnels full of dirt and fixing bricks. I ended up placing about 7 gallons of dirt back into the ground before sanding the bricks and resetting the traps. This is likely to be a protracted battle, and I suspect that I’ll lose.
We’ve successfully made it through the first week. No big deal, I know, but it’s satisfying in the sense that we’ve seen a glimpse of how this whole 2 kid thing will work. We’re a little surprised how compatible Ella has been with a baby. Pleased, but a little surprised since she’s been the center of the universe.
Yesterday we took Madeline to her pediatrician for a recheck on her bilirubin and for a general introduction. Everything went well and we went home happy to know that she was likely going to kick the extra bilirubin on her own. Then a few hours later the little girl started turning blue around the lips and below her nose when suckling and sometimes just randomly. These “dusky” episodes were rather concerning and my mother-in-law and dad, both versed medical professionals checked and decided that it was likely nothing, but still somewhat concerning.
So we called her pediatrician again, who wanted to have her admitted to the special care nursery overnight for observation. One of the things they wanted to monitor was her oxygen saturation level, something we tried to do at home with an oximeter my dad brought home from work. We couldn’t get it to fit anywhere on her since it was designed for an adult finger, so I broke it trying to make it work. (I fixed it later that night)
We checked Madeline in to the Nursery where she was hooked up to a bunch of sensors and had some blood drawn for a culture. Michelle and Kathy spent the night with her, doing normal mom things like feeding and fretting, while I returned to be with Ella. It was a rough drive home, but I did manage to store up on sleep.
Michelle called this morning to let me know that they were being discharged, but that Madeline’s Bilirubin count had increased. Ella and I drove out to pick up the rest of the family this morning, and the combined joy of having a well baby and hearing the inauguration on the radio made me swell a bit. I tried to explain it all to Ella, but the best I could convey was that Mommy was finally coming home with sissy.
Now Madeline is upstairs sleeping with Michelle (also sleeping) and soaking up some blue light to help break down the bilirubin. It comes out as green poo. This will be the happiest I’ve ever been to see green poo.
I’ve cheated the wireless system here and was able to put some pictures on flickr. Here they are.
Madeline Grace Freed entered the world this morning at 8:50 AM after only one push. Since she’s roughly 2 weeks early we expected a smaller girl. We thought that was the case, but she clocked in with almost identical vitals (19.75″ long, 6 lbs 10 oz) and she scored the same 9 on her Apgar, so she’s in good shape. And she’s lovely.
I know you’re expecting photos, but the wireless here is basically down, so you’ll have to settle for a cell phone pic in the meantime.
