Nap-time and Feeding Tubes

Normally, I blog about things that have gone wrong, Wendy being sick, or my opinion on something concerning special needs children/moms.

This, however, is pretty humorous (even though I didn't think so at the time).

I laid Wendy down for a nap around 1:00. I was hoping she'd fall asleep quickly so that I could nap too. I'd had a headache, no, not a headache, a migraine since I woke up at 9:00. 

You're all probably thinking "ooo she got to sleep in, how lucky" NOT! I was up from 3:00am- 6:30am with my little Tator Tot. 

Ok, back to laying her down.... I changed her diaper and hooked her up for a feed and put her in her crib. I go back to my bedroom to sit in the dark until Wendy falls asleep.  When I look at the monitor, she was tangled 100 different directions. So I went in and unhooked her. Then she unsnapped the bottom of her sleeper and pulled it up where she could reach her tube. She pulled all the dressing and Mepilex off and tried to eat it. So I went back in there took the rest of the dressing off and even unhooked the extension so she wouldn't have anything to pull on.  For a while, she tried to pull at her button through her sleeper them she got frustrated and unsnapped the bottom and pulled her legs out... and then TOOK OFF HER DIAPER. I walked in and she was playing with the diaper and laughing about it, all with her bare tushie shining. I couldn't help but laugh.

Finally I taped her button down, put on a new diaper, and got a zip up sleeper. I laid her back down. By this time it was 2:30-ish.  After fussing for about 5 mins she finally passed out and slept until 4:45. So did I ;)

Mommy’s Surgery.

This doesn’t have anything to do with Wendy per say, but it has to do with me, her mom. Some of you may or may not know I had to have surgery last month. I had been told they thought I had endometriosis and I could start treatment right away, but the only way I’d know for sure if I had it was if I had a laparoscopy. So I went into surgery thinking they were going to find the endometriosis, burn some of it away and then I’d start the lupron shots. Well when I woke up, I was told I did not have endometriosis, rather I had 2 cysts/tumors growing and he removed them. When I woke up, I was ready to go home. They asked if I needed any more pain medication through my IV and I said no so they said I could go home as soon as I could pee. I asked them which way was the bathroom and the nurse said, we’ll get you a wheel chair. I decided to just walk.  After I got back to my room, she took out my IV and handed me my discharge papers and instructions. I had to leave in a wheelchair (hospital policy lol). Once I got home, I told my mom I wanted to be alone, so I propped up on pillows and took my pain meds and slept off and on all day. When Zed got home, he had Wendy with him. He helped out about changing diapers and doing her care at night, but starting the day after surgery, I was back doing everything for Wen (except in the afternoons because Zed helped a lot then). I hurt pretty badly for about a week, but after that week, I’ve felt fine. I’ve even had a period and didn’t cramp and hurt like usual.

Sorry this post is so late…. I am going to try to catch up on some things I have missed, like Wendy’s birthday for example.

But if you follow Wendy on Facebook then you shouldn’t be behind because I update there every day.

Living At A Hospital

When Wendy was born, I talked a lot about what was going on with her but I failed to mention what life was like for me and Zed. We literally lived in Nashville for almost 4 months between mine and Wendy’s hospital stay.


September 6, 2011 my water broke and I was admitted to Centennial Women’s Hospital in Nashville, TN. That night, Zed went home and got my hospital bag that I had packed, packed himself a bag, and came back to stay with me and he stayed with me on a hospital sofa bed until the day I was released. He stayed day and night, only leaving to report to work every Monday (just to check in and let his superiors know how we were and he would get to leave again after formation) and to go get himself supper every night (which at times he just picked up food from the hospital cafeteria).  Now that I look back on it, Zed was amazing. He slept on a very uncomfortable bed and he was so sweet to me, doing everything he could to help. Every night, he would help me get in the shower and while I was bathing he made up my bed so I had a nice place to lay down when I was finished. We used to lay in the hospital bed together and watch DVDs from Redbox. He really was the best husband I could have wanted.

October 8 Wendy was born and transferred to Vanderbilt. I got released October 9. After spending all day at the hospital, we would go to our hotel room to sleep. We rented room 504 at the Holiday Inn Express, which was only a block from the hospital, until we got a room at the Ronald McDonald House. We lived out of suitcases, ate out every night, and rented movies on the TV. I don’t think Zed and I have ever been closer than we were at this time. We used to just go to different stores in Nashville, just to walk around and get out of the hospital and the hotel. At the time, I didn’t really enjoy staying in a hotel. I like to be home and have my own space, but after moving to the RMH, I missed the hotel. A room finally opened up for us after 30 days at the hotel. We had a small room, with 2 twin beds and a tiny bathroom. The only TVs are in the common areas, which was bad for Zed because he was crazy about watching The Walking Dead (and some other shows). I’m not saying it was a horrible place, because truly it is a blessing because they provide a place to stay as well as food, all for free (when we were paying over $100 a night at the hotel and that was with the “hospital discount”), but staying there wasn’t exactly comfortable. On top of everything, I ended up getting really sick, at the same time Wendy had surgery, and I couldn’t go see her for days. So I actually went home to stay for a night or two (we only lived an hour from the hospital). From then on out, Zed and I tried to go home once every week or two, just so I could clean and we could sleep in our own bed.


December 18 Wendy was finally discharged. We were all so happy to be going home. Zed and I had lived in a hospital for almost 5 weeks, then we stayed in a hotel for 4 weeks, and the Ronald McDonald House for 6 weeks. I love Nashville, don’t get me wrong, but I was ready to be back in Oak Grove (Fort Campbell)! In 15 weeks we had only been home 5-6 nights. What really sucked was paying rent and utilities while no one was even there.


It was not easy and I would not want to ever do that again, but I think it brought our family together. Zed and I relied on each other and reconnected. Spending so much time together helped make up for the year we had lost from him being in Afghanistan. Now, if Wendy ever gets hospitalized again, we have to stay in the room with her (because she’s so active and nurses have multiple patients and cannot keep watch on each toddler). We literally could not even go to the bathroom in her room without someone else there because she’d pull out IVs, rip off monitors, etc. I couldn’t imagine trying to do a long term stay with her now. Hopefully she will continue to be healthy and have no hospital stays in her future. 

Welcome To Holland

There is an essay that has been circulating around the disabled community for quite some time and you may have even seen me post it on my personal Facebook page. It’s called, Welcome To Holland.

WELCOME TO HOLLAND

by
Emily Perl Kingsley.

c1987 by Emily Perl Kingsley. All rights reserved

I am often asked to describe the experience of raising a child with a disability - to try to help people who have not shared that unique experience to understand it, to imagine how it would feel. It's like this……


When you're going to have a baby, it's like planning a fabulous vacation trip - to Italy. You buy a bunch of guide books and make your wonderful plans. The Coliseum. The Michelangelo David. The gondolas in Venice. You may learn some handy phrases in Italian. It's all very exciting.


After months of eager anticipation, the day finally arrives. You pack your bags and off you go. Several hours later, the plane lands. The stewardess comes in and says, "Welcome to Holland.”


"Holland?!?" you say. "What do you mean Holland?? I signed up for Italy! I'm supposed to be in Italy. All my life I've dreamed of going to Italy.”


But there's been a change in the flight plan. They've landed in Holland and there you must stay.

The important thing is that they haven't taken you to a horrible, disgusting, filthy place, full of pestilence, famine and disease. It's just a different place.


So you must go out and buy new guide books. And you must learn a whole new language. And you will meet a whole new group of people you would never have met.


It's just a different place. It's slower-paced than Italy, less flashy than Italy. But after you've been there for a while and you catch your breath, you look around.... and you begin to notice that Holland has windmills....and Holland has tulips. Holland even has Rembrandts.


But everyone you know is busy coming and going from Italy... and they're all bragging about what a wonderful time they had there. And for the rest of your life, you will say "Yes, that's where I was supposed to go. That's what I had planned.”


And the pain of that will never, ever, ever, ever go away... because the loss of that dream is a very very significant loss.


But... if you spend your life mourning the fact that you didn't get to Italy, you may never be free to enjoy the very special, the very lovely things ... about Holland.



Okay, so as Wendy’s mom, I personally never mourned over not having a normal baby. I knew at 23 weeks pregnant that I was going to have a “abnormal” baby and I was fine with that and I was totally up for the challenge. In my personal experience, I think when I got to the airport my ticket would have already said Holland because I knew exactly where I was going.  But my point is, this is a really great way to to tell people how it feels to be raising a special child.

Just FYI: most SN parents LOVE Holland and now wouldn’t dream of going to Italy.

Life Worth Living

Those two pink lines can change your world,

but so can a doctor with a few simple words.

“Abnormal” and “rare” will scare an expectant mother to death,

but she knows she’ll fight for her baby until her last breath.

Being a special needs mother is no easy task.

Putting herself first is a thing of the past.

She becomes an advocate and expert and learns to persevere,

because her child has come first since they have been here.

As a mother, she’s always fighting and constantly giving,

because her child was given life, and that life is worth living.

Pouty Lips and Temper Tantrums; Reining In the Terrible Twos

The terrible twos isn't just something special needs parents go through. Unfortunately, this ugly phase is something all toddlers will experience to a certain degree. Some kids may experience them as early as their second year, beginning right after their first birthday, others may be two or three years old. Wendy is almost 22 months old, and the TT’s are in full force!


She has the sweetest little face, so it’s SO HARD to tell her no to anything, especially when she does that pouty little lip and looks up at you with those big, dark blue eyes, but it’s something that has to be done, usually for her safety. Most of the time, I’m telling her no, don’t eat this or no, don’t pull on your feeding tube when she freaks out and throws a huge tantrum, but there are other times when I can simply be changing her diaper or carrying her to another room and she gets mad. And boy does she know how to throw a fit! When a temper tantrum strikes, my sweet, precious Wen turns into a 16lb Tasmanian Devil that I can barely control.


Luckily, for me, this phase won’t last forever and the signing is helping give her a way to communicate, so we’re hoping that will help too. Being almost 2 and nonverbal is difficult. She can’t tell me what she wants, so she slaps me in the face or pulls my hair. It’s a good thing she’s so adorable or she’d probably be getting away with a heck of a lot less!  ;)

My child is different and I’m not afraid to shout it from the highest mountain.

Today I was sent a message on Facebook saying things like “Wendy will lead as normal of a life as you let her” and that “no one would know Wendy was special needs if I didn’t point out her differences” and for many reasons these things bothered me. This person, who I will keep nameless for their sake because I know many of Wendy’s followers would love to tell this lady off, sent this message because she said I was making her comment about becoming a grandmother about Wendy and her disabilities, which was not my intention, I just said that my mom had tried to do similar things but didn’t work out because Wendy ended up being a special child and I keep her with me all the time (if this makes sense, I’m trying to be vague as to not totally give this person away).

Did you know that 1 in 5,000 babies are born with an imperforate anus? Probably not, because I didn’t before Wendy was born and it’s probably because nobody talks about it. No one would have ever known Wendy was born without an anus had I not chosen to share it. But I did share it, because if I’m secretive about it, then she will feel like she has a reason to be embarrassed about it and Wendy is perfect in my eyes and God’s. He made her that way, so she should be proud of who and what she is. Other than Wendy’s small size, physically, she looks healthy and most people wouldn’t know that she was born with various birth defects and will face a life of the unknown, but if people comment about her small size, I’ll quickly tell them a little about her and her differently-abled-ness. Hell, I may just bring up something about Wendy and her chromosome disorder just because you mention your healthy grandchild, just like any other may mention that their child did this or that early/late. I have learned to be Wendy’s advocate and I am her voice. I will talk about her disability as much as I can and because of that, thousands of people know about Wendy and pray for her and if you don’t care to hear about it, unfriend me.

As far as me letting her live a normal life…  Am I overprotective? YES! I spent most of my pregnancy not knowing if she was going to live past birth and then 71 excruciating days standing over her in the NICU, so excuse me I keep her close and protect her as much as I can. That doesn’t make me a bad mother, that makes me a caring mother. Would I have treated a “normal” baby like I treat Wendy? I don’t know. I’ll probably never know. All I do know is that I’m doing the best I can with Wendy and what we’ve been given. I also know that I love Wendy with every part of my being and I will do everything in my power to give her the best life I can and if you think that means I’m holding her back, then I thank God that you weren’t given a special child and I was.