Miriam's Hospital Stay

A lot has happened in the week since I have written. Miriam (and I ) were in the hospital for 3 nights. It started out with an afternoon of fussiness and when we took her temperature it was 101. Pete and I were off to the hospital with her after getting Nori situated.
Like most crises I find myself remaining calm and down playing the seriousness up to a certain point. When we started our adventure, my biggest concern was all the poking and prodding I knew they would put her thru. I wasn't that worried that something was actually "wrong."
Poked and prodded they surely did- drawing blood, urine catheter, xrays, lumbar puncture. They gave her some tylenol, her fever came down, and I was ready to go home to bed. She was cooing happily.

No such luck. We were told she would be admitted. I was still okay with this, thinking it would be one night and surely not too uncomfortable- we were at CHOP, supposedly the best hospital in the nation. They would have a nice spacious room for us to rest. My cool was fading fast after waiting several more hours for a room. I was  starting to lose it.We got to her room, Pete left. And I lost it.

Her temperature spiked to 103, they started 3-4 different anitbiotics, and was connected to heart monitors, pulse ox, ivs. Doctors and nurses filed in one after another to our room. They smiled and talked about things that were all starting to blur together. I would nod and try to appear calm.
Then the worst night of my life began.

Miriam was tethered to her array of machines next to a crib where she was expected to sleep. There was a small bed a few feet away where I was expected to sleep. The cords didn't reach.
There were several variables that no one addressed. She was two weeks old and I barely knew how to soothe, nurse and change her diaper at home, let alone in this jungle of cords, with nowhere for me to lay next to her (I did consider more than once climbing into the crib.) The most horrible fact was that  she was in terrible pain, moaning and whimpering with a fever of 103. The machines beeped, the hallway lights glared into our little torture chamber of a corner of a room and I haven't even mentioned our roommate yet. She was a few weeks old as well with just as many cries as Miriam and two parents that snored, boy did they snore.
I tried to comfort Miriam. Then I would lay her down and go to my cot. Five minutes later someone was crying- I was back up to see if it was Mira or our roomate. Then a machine would beep. The bathroom door would slam, a nurse would come in. I was delirious. I was delirious with the lack of sleep. I was trapped, like on an airplane ride that wouldn't end. And worst of all every few minutes I was overwhelmed with fear- my baby had a fever and the doctors kept saying "there is nothing else we can do." It was viral meningitis. 

For the next two days, her little body shook and moaned. She curled up on Pete or I's chest and we held her tight. In the daylight, things seemed a little better. I couldn't stopped crying. Maybe it was the postpartum hormones, or lack of sleep. But mostly it was feeling this little creature tremble, as though my own body was trembling. She came out of me two weeks ago. It was my blood and body that created her and pushed her into her miniature breathing and pooping self. And now stuck to me, my body wanted to do all it could to cause her to survive.
I entered this strange hyperalert state. I had no mental capability beyond nursing, holding her, crying, and eating. Man, I wanted to eat everything in sight. I was in survival mode and something told me to eat, to nurse, to stay awake.
There was of course, the occaional trip to the bathroom, a five minute no soap shower, or a visit from Nori or a friend.  These things were welcomed distractions, but before long, I was driven back to the room by a force greater than myself- to will this little baby to health. By day four, her fever broke. I could feel my heart relax. I thought about my bed at home. I was finally able to feel the fatigue.

During our stay, I didn't  pray. I had a faint feeling that God was present but I didn't feel the ability to enter into any spiritual part of myself. I was too consumed by this vigilant  mother state of doing things.
I was amazed at the friends and family that reached out with visits, with calls and texts. This was something tangible. I was held up by their love This was my faith when I couldn't summon the faith to talk directly to God. When I couldn't pray, others did.

Now, looking back, after many many hours of sleep, I wonder did I really believe God would help Miriam? Is my faith what I thought it was? Or maybe that is what believing is all about- realizing how little I believe.  Being able to be weak, to depend on friends and family, to love beyond where I know it is going "to be okay." To be mothered by God.

Oh- what love God must have for us, even if it is a fraction of what I feel for little Miriam.
We are blessed to be called children of God.

Someone's Mother-Again

I was looking at Miriam's birth photos today and was struck by the fact that I am someone's mother. The one who grew her inside of me, brought her into the world through me- literally. And now that she born, the one she is dependent on for life. The one who will adore and love her. The one who knows her little self more than any other. Yet today I realize I must enter this knowing of her with curiosity and patience. It was a long night.
Throughout the night, I didn't know if she wanted swaddled tighter, or to take it off. If she was hungry or too full and gasy. Was she hot or cold? Was her diaper wet bothering her? Did she want to be upright or on her side. All night we thrashed around the room together in a sea of blankets, leaking breast milk, pillows, nipple cream, snacks and spit up. Both her clothes and mine strewn everywhere in my attempts to adjust each of our temperatures multiple times throughout the night. I am surprised to find that my mothering is not as natural as I thought. After a night of trying "everything" to soothe her, my prayer this morning was- let me get to know Miriam Lord. I feel that I am not the mother I am supposed to be, the one that I feel I am for Nori in the sense of knowing her so well.
It is Monday, I was grateful to bring Nori to school and have a chance to just be Miriam's mom. To bath her slowly, trim her nails, massage her with special baby oil. And to lazily ponder over the past two weeks of her photos. I read a baby books re her development and spent five minutes sticking out my tongue to see if she will imitate me as the book says she may.  I dusted off the mobile and decided she would have "play time." After all this I called Pete and found myself crying on the phone. I didn't feel particularly hormonal before calling. I talked to him about the morning and how she was still fussy despite all my attention and energy. He seemed world's away in a place with adults that required him to be working. Here I was in this small bubble of a morning, with my baby. I cried because I felt alone, this bubble is meant to only hold the two of us today.

I hung up with Pete and debated a shower as I tried to continue to rock her as she whimpered.
Maybe a shower will make me feel more human and clear my mind. I looked down to realize she was asleep as I also realized I had forgotten the most logical explanation for her cries- she was hungry.
I hadn't fed for for over two hours.
Again, I am someone's mother, and I must start again in getting to know this little one. I need grace, I need showers. I need a little sleep and a little common sense wouldn't hurt either.

She's Here!

Tomorrow is Miriam's two week birthday. I just got back from the pool. It was the first time I exercised and the first time I was away from Miriam. Something about the trip to the pool felt like it ended the first small chapter in her life. There is so much to say about this first little blur of a chapter- where to begin?
 I am a mom again. So much of it is like a re-run of Nori's newborn days: the smells of spit up and breast milk, the dizziness of sleeplessness, the aching back and sore breasts. The black hair- everywhere- her back and legs and little shoulders. The tears that come for no reason at all. Being hypnotized for hours, just looking at her.
Yet, in many ways, it feels like a completely new experience. I am not afraid. I am not afraid that she will consume my life. There is a willingness in my heart to give to her whatever part of me she needs. I woke the third night of her life to nurse her for the 4th time in 6 hours and there was complete joy in seeing her. I am not afraid of her. I know that there is person inside that grunting, pooping-spitting breast milk out her nose-little gremlin.  I know these days will pass so quickly and I have a bird's eye sense of where I am, despite the bluriness. I know that in a few days I will be able to physically carry her, the bleeding and aching will slow down. In a few weeks she will smile, in a few months she won't fall sleep all curled up on my chest as though she is still inside me.She will want more space. She will forget how our hearts beated so close to one another as her body was formed in a warm sea of water.
So for now, I won't hurry. I won't hurry back to the life that I love- full of activity.  All that will surely wait for me. I will soak her in as much as my eyes and heart can hold. It feels like trying to hold water and watching it slip through my hands. Knowing she is not mine, yet trying desperately to capture her-to take that photo that will stop time and allow me to remember this.

Mother of two

Yesterday was first day home with both Nori and Mira. It was more natural than I expected. There is a balancing between them, although Nori seems to require much more than Mira for now.
Nori is loud and Mira quiet. Nori engages my mind and patience. Mira needs my body and is unpredictable.
 I cried once  because I was overwhelmed. I was trying to make a simple phone call to roder a wedding gift and they were both crying. I couldn't even hear the woman on the other end
I cried another time for sheer joy. I found that Nori had put Miriam's lovie blanket and pacifier in her seat with her, tucked under her blanket with such sincerity. My daughter is kind- I was brought to my knees with thankfulness and wonder.
As I was falling alseep last night I realized that my own attitude is based on the voices I choose to hear in my head and who I compare myself to. For example, do I hear the voice of my friends asking how tired I must be? Anf feel sorry for myself? Or do I listen to a mom friend who delights in skipping her nap to watch her baby sleep. I have friends that are home full time with two or more kids and I feel grateful I am only home with them both pnly two days a week. Or I could compare myself to another friend who is home with her baby full time while the older one is in school 5 days.  It is also easy to feel sorry for myself when comparing myself to Pete, who gets to sleep through the night. How I feel, all seems to be relevant to who I am looking at. Why not just keep my gaze close? To realize the secret of being content- in seeing the abundance of my heart and life.

Lord, let me be thankful in all things, knowing you will give me my daily bread and having joy in all things that  you have given me.

From Mama

Nori,
I have loved these last days of us as "threesome." You are truly the delight of our hearts. You sparkle so much. And cause my heart to sparkle in return. We love your passion, your zeal. You exhaust us with your volatitily and dramatic-ness. But we wouldn't want you any other way than as you.
Can I really love another as I love you? But they say our love will only grow for you, but I am sad to imagine another capturing our hearts. But our hearts will grow to love you more because of her and to love her more because of you.
A prayer for my sister daughters-
May you always embrace her as your sister. The one you shared my womb with. The one who most closely shares your blood and flesh. May you always spur each other on to be better. To love others more, to love yourselves more, to be reflections of God's grace. To forgive each other and yourselves. May your relationship come from a place of authenticity and may you each be truly unique in our eyes and in yours.Amen.
We love you and believe in you Big Sister!

Mama

She's Coming!!!!

My Baby Sister is almost here!!! I can hardly wait. When I get excited that something is about to happen, I ask Mama, "To-Now?!!!" There's today, tomorrow, tonight, why not to-now? Mommy says no, not to-now, but soon!!
Mama has been talking to me a lot about Baby Sister. She says that when she comes Mama is going to have to rest in bed for a few days. I am going to be her BIG helper. And I will have to play by myself more because Mama will be nursing Baby Sister. I pulled my shirt up the other day and discovered that "I have boobies too!" And that I will have milk for Baby Sister too, then Mommy can rest more.
Daddy says he doesn't have any milk, I guess he won't be doing any nursing.
Sometimes I look in Mommy's belly button and see Baby Sister, she is SOoooo cute. She likes to kick me sometimes. Mama says when she comes out she will give Mama an ouchie and I said, "Baby Sister- don't hit my Mommy!" I like to listen to Mommy's belly too. The other day, Baby Sister told me she wants to come home now.
And then there's the whole bit about sharing. Daddy and Mommy both like to talk about sharing A LOT lately. I think sharing is over rated. Who likes sharing and why? Mommy and Daddy's friends like to say, "I am in for a big suprise," when Baby Sister comes. I love suprises, so this doesn't sound too bad to me.

In other news, I started SCHOOL a few weeks ago. I love it! I love the teachers, the art projects, and all my new friends. I still cry "just a little bit" when Mommy and Daddy drop me off. They say I am dramatic. I guess they are refering to how I flail my body around and scream when they leave. Then within a few minutes I get into my day at school. Mommy and Daddy really love my school too, they say it is better than they expected and that they like the curriculum, the teachers and all the stimulus it gives me. The other day I told Mom (I like to call her this every once in while to show her how grown up I am) that "Sometimes I ride the school bus to school." She was impressed, but then I heard her talking to Daddy- something about my first lie. I wonder what a lie is.

When Baby Sister comes, I am in charge of getting her party ready!! I am so excited! I picked out a cake mix and I am going to blow up balloons.
Mama and Daddy are going to go to the Doctor's to get her. I go with Mama to the Doctor's to check on her every week now. I get to hold the tape measure to measure her, press the button to listen to her heart, and then I get my heart checked to.
Mama says that I was born at the same place. When I came out, I was a little baby too! Now I am growing up! I can even dress and undress myself most days.  Sometimes at night or in the morning I get dressed by myself on top of my PJs. I also like trying on all my different shoes. Mama found me once surrounded by three of my favorite pairs, fast asleep. I wear underewears now sometimes too. I like to try to use the potty at least once a day, but usually nothing comes out except farts.

The three of us have had SO much fun this summer. We went camping!  I got to ride in a boat, roast marshmallows and sleep in a tent! We had lots of fun day trips too. I went to Nana and Pappy's for a weekend with Mama. Mama and I enjoyed our days together during the week so much. We felt like the perfect duo. Yesterday we took the blanket to the playground so we could lay back and imagine what all the clouds could be. And I have been swimming LOTS. We found a pool where I can where my floaties and swim without any help from Mommy or Daddy! Mommy says I am "pure delight" when I swim. I feel like I just bubble over with joy because I am so happy and feel so many wonderful sensations swimming in the water.

I guess I will have to "share" my blog with Baby Sister too. I wonder what we call it now.
Wish me luck! I will write again once she is here!

My Dog Park Room

Now that I am going to be a BIG sister, I got a new room! Mama calls it a "forest" theme. But the only forest I go for walks in is the dog park, so I call it my dog park room.