Wednesday, January 14, 2015

DAY 3

The night before, I had sent Logan home to get some real sleep. Poor Logan had been sleeping on the chair/couch thing that they have for the dads that really just looks like a really hard cot. Not only that, I was waking him up every couple of hours to help me get out of bed to go to the bathroom, get my pump ready, then walk Dawson's milk down to the NICU. Before that night I didn't realize that he was also taking advantage of Dawson's care times as well. So Logan was being a baby hog and getting to change Dawson's diaper and take his temperature, which before I sent him home that night I didn't even realize there were set times for that!

Wednesday morning, probably around 5 a.m. I walked down by myself because I was going to see Dawson and hand deliver his milk and change his diaper. While I was down there I remember talking to the nurse and she said every thing had gone great through the night. I was ecstatic. This would mean I would get to hold him AGAIN this afternoon.

We couldn't wait to get to doctor rounds that morning. He was doing awesome so maybe we would get to try to feed him a bottle on top of holding him?! Things could only get better.

Things didn't get better. In fact, more problems were coming to light. I just stared at the doctor as he told us that the nurse thought she had seen signs of a seizure in the night. I thought there was no way. I had visited my baby in the middle of the night. Everything was fine. He was fine. That afternoon he was to be hooked up to monitors for his brain and have a video camera on him to watch his movements.

But that wasn't all.

He had another chest x-ray to look at his lungs and within the past 48 hours there had been no improvement. Even worse-at some point his collar bone had broke. This x-ray also showed that his bones were incredibly brittle. They were going to do x-rays of his lower half to make sure all of those bones were ok.

Those two things meant one thing to me at that moment: I would not be holding my baby today.

The doctor would not tell us his suspicions of what kind of condition we were looking at with Dawson at this point. He just kept saying we would most likely have to wait 4-6 weeks for the chromosome tests to return to find out if he had a chromosome syndrome.

Craving something to be normal in my life, I sent Logan to go get Emmy and to take her to dance class. After she went to dance class I wanted her to come see me, because if I couldn't snuggle Dawson then I was going to snuggle Emmy.

After he left I made my way back down to the NICU. Unfortunately I had walked in on them hooking the monitors to his head for the EEG. That was the moment it became real to me. I never imagined that my baby would have to have an EEG.

I took no pictures on Day 3. I was hoping it would be a day I could forget.

As I sat there watching my baby sleep and cry, I wished more than anything that I could take all of his discomfort away. I wished he didn't have to have his head wrapped. I wished he didn't have to lay on and around all the wires. I wished he could stop being poked and prodded and having to get new IVs all of the time. And I wished the machines would all stop beeping at him.

We did a lot of praying that day. Praying that all of the tests would come back that he was fine. Praying that this would be but a fleeting moment in his earthly journey so that he could live a long and happy and healthy life.

Tuesday, January 13, 2015

DAY 2

This was by far the best day that week, and will definitely go down as one of my top days ever. Every morning the doctors and nurses would do rounds in the NICU and talk to the parents and get them up to date on what was going on with their baby. That morning they had decided it would be ok if I finally got to hold Dawson for the first time. I was over the moon and could not wait.


He was so precious. I hated all of the things he was hooked to (oxygen, feeding tube, IV, and a bunch of other things that I didn't understand) but I got to hold him and that's all I cared about at that moment.

While I was doting on my baby, there were things happening that I didn't get, but the doctors were throwing things around. Dawson's lungs weren't doing well so he was on antibiotics to get gunk out. He was having a hard time swallowing so they were having to suck saliva out of his mouth a lot. His umbilical cord was questionable, which made them suspicious of his kidneys and bowels. And probably more noticeable to others than to me at the time-his forehead was shaped a little different because his fontanelle had closed prematurely. The doctors also kept asking me about my blood Chromosome test results, but I didn't think anything of it. Surely they were just asking a lot of routine questions.

All of that meant nothing to me at the time because I looked at him and thought he was just my perfect baby that was just a little bit of a preemie.



How could anything be wrong with my baby? Everything was going to be fine and he would be in the nursery I had stewed over for months. He was going to wear the adorable outfits I had been very picky about. I was going to get home and finish his blanket because in a couple weeks he was coming home with me. And I couldn't be more excited. 

DAY 1



I'll be honest. I don't remember a whole lot about this day, just that we were overjoyed and sure that we would ALL be home by Christmas.
Dawson had a hard time breathing, but being that he was 6 weeks early I wasn't really surprised. But since he was 4 lbs. 12 oz. already I figured we would be in and out of the NICU in no time. He was so cute and I couldn't take enough pictures of him, even though they all looked the same and he was hard to see because of all of his wires.



I also finally got to hear his sweet little cry for the first time.


Proof that I was feeling like things were great that day- I had done my hair and make up. Excuse the ugly hospital gown. I hadn't changed yet because I was still scared of my incision and I don't think I had had Logan go get me clothes yet.


(I guess I should also say to excuse my roots. Good thing a couple weeks later my sister-in-law Jessie was able to come to town so I could have her fix me up.) 
Emmy had stayed with my mother-in-law the first couple of days. Unfortunately, kids aren't allowed in the NICU so Emmy couldn't go see Dawson. She was pretty excited to see pictures of him though. 





Friday, January 9, 2015

Happy Birthday Dawson Gerald Gray

The day before Dawson was born was a normal Sunday. We had gone to church and gone to Blackfoot to have dinner with Logan's family, but apparently I like to go into labor on Sundays. I had just laid down on my air mattress which was the only place I was able to get comfortable for the past couple weeks. The Walking Dead had just come on and on the commercial I was planning on getting back up to find a snack and a drink, which an hour later I will have wished I had just gotten it before I laid down because there would be no getting up to get a snack, instead I would be on my way to the hospital.

10:50 p.m.- Moments after laying down my water broke. At first I thought what most think at this moment. "HOLY CRAP WHY AM I PEEING MYSELF?!" But after trying, there is no stopping. I yelled for Logan as quietly as I could so Emmy wouldn't wake up but making sure he knew I meant business. He came running out of the bedroom and I told him my water broke. He must have thought it was a joke considering I was only 34 weeks pregnant but there was no denying the steady flow of water. This was no trickling!

11:00 p.m.- Luckily I had just been texting my friend in the neighborhood so I knew she was still awake. Ingrid came over to stay with Emmy and we rushed to the hospital, unlike when I was in labor with Emmy and we just took our time. Whether because I was nervous or because it was cold outside, I couldn't stop shaking.

11:15 p.m.- After standing in the check in area of the hospital leaking amniotic fluid for everyone to see, they finally get me to Labor and Delivery.

11:30 p.m.- My awesome doctor, Leavitt, shows up. They start to monitor contractions and baby Dawson's heart rate.

11:45 p.m.- They realize Dawson is not doing well with my contractions. They are causing his heart rate to fall and it is continuously getting worse. At this point they start telling me it would be best for him if we do a c-section, but it needs to be immediate with how his heart rate is falling.

12:00 a.m. December 1, 2014- I am getting ready for surgery and Logan is also getting suited up. Luckily I didn't have to be put under because of the position of Dawson so Logan is able to also be in the room.

Since you receive an epidural during a c-section, you aren't able to feel anything, just pressure. However, this pressure was not fun. There were times I felt like my insides were being squished and like I couldn't breathe. All of this was making me hot, so I had Logan fanning me. Well, he was so intrigued with watching them rip out my insides that he wasn't paying attention and kept wapping me in the face. Also, all of the movement of my insides and being hot started to make me shake uncontrollably and nauseous. If I could pick whether to have another c-section or normal delivery, I would have to say a normal delivery is way more fun! This was plain torture! haha.

12:30 a.m.- Our precious Dawson Gerald Gray was born. Unfortunately, I didn't get to see him yet because he decided to give his mom quite the scare and wasn't crying yet and had to go straight to the NICU.

Logan was able to go see him and take his first picture so I could see him.


Saturday, January 3, 2015

Pregnant with Dawson

We were SO excited when we found out we were expecting again and that Emmy would be a big sister. It was also perfect timing because a few weeks later, Emmy and I would be heading to Georgia for several weeks so the majority of the time I would be the sickest I would be with my mom and have help. I also got really lucky because we (my mom, sister, and Emmy) had a girls trip planned to go to Disney World but I ended up not getting sick until we were on our way home from it.

Until about 20 weeks I was still sick and could barely eat anything of substance, but I was no where near as sick as I was with Emmy.

But of course, true to pregnant Katie fashion, I started having other issues. The rest of my pregnancy I was dealing with a kidney that was not emptying as fast as it should have been because it was a tad "squished". It would cause so much pain that at first they thought I had a kidney stone and were treating me for that, until they realized it wasn't that and that I would just have to deal with it. YAY.

I also had really, really bad acid reflux. I tried multiple medicines that didn't work, then found out the secret of pickles. Turns out pickles get rid of acid reflux, so I was eating about 5 a day, until about 30 weeks when just the thought of a pickle made me want to puke, so I started to just deal with the reflux, AKA not eating past a certain time and definitely not laying down until 5+ hours after I ate. But as you can imagine this was not a good solution for a pregnant girl, so mostly I just ate and ate and ate and prayed I wouldn't be able to taste the acid seeping up. TMI I'm sorry.

At around 16 weeks I started to have Braxton Hicks contractions regularly in the evenings. On our anniversary date when I was 30 weeks pregnant we were at a movie and I started to notice I was having contractions every 10-15 minutes and that lasted for 6 or so hours, but the doctor had told me that unless they were 8 or less minutes apart to not worry, at which point I would go to the hospital with the NICU if under 35 weeks pregnant. This continued to happen frequently until I gave birth.

A foreshadow to what I would find out 5 days after Dawson was born, I had accidentally taken a blood test to see if my baby would be born with Chromosomal syndromes. I say accidentally because I don't think I took this test with Emmy and unless you are someone who would abort your child then knowing this information wouldn't really come in handy since there is nothing you can really do. A week later I got a call- my numbers were 272 (if I remember right) and anything over 269 is considered a positive. The nurses said not to worry because it was just barely off so most likely it was just a fluke and my baby would be perfect. After telling Logan, we decided not to do the invasive test because the only Chromosome Syndrome we even knew of was Down Syndrome and we would love him regardless. At our next ultrasound, however, the tech looked for signs of a Chromosome Syndrome and found none. We were sure Dawson would be born perfect, and we were right, just not in the way we would have ever imagined.





Rewind to 34 weeks with Emmy

WARNING: This is a fairly boring story with no pictures.


Up until a month ago, I thought 34 weeks pregnant with Emmy was the most traumatic time in my life, so before that moment surely disappears from my memory, since it now seems so small comparatively, I feel like I should blog about it.

While pregnant with Emmy, I had a sharp pain in what I thought was my hip. At around 25 weeks it started to progressively get worse and worse, but would only last for a little while and I could typically sit in a position that made it disappear temporarily. After telling my doctor this, he assumed it was just a pulled muscle from my body growing, which would have made perfect sense. At 32 weeks, it had gotten to the point to where I would have to sit on the couch in a certain position to get any sleep, but I kept blowing it off as a normal pregnancy discomfort.

On a Sunday night, when I was home alone (at the time, Logan was working in North Dakota-11 hours away) I was in so much pain that I tried just about everything. I sat in my normal spot on the couch with no luck. I did multiple yoga poses in hopes it would just give me a moment of relief with no luck. I laid in a hot shower until it turned cold with still no luck.

By 4 a.m. I was done. I called my mom in Georgia and told her I either needed her there with me or that Logan was going to have to come home from work until I had baby Emmy, to which she responded, "Call your mother-in-law now or I will." Well, I was not calling my mother-in-law at 4 a.m. for a little pregnancy discomfort. How embarrassing! So I called Logan and gave him my same sob story, to which he told me that he was calling Lori (mother-in-law) because she could be there way faster than either him or my mom could be.

An hour later in walked Lori. At that point I was nauseous, laying on the cold tile floor in front of the open door (in February in Rexburg, Idaho) eating ice by the bag. I thought all I needed was someone to sit there and tell me everything will be fine, but she walked in, took one look at me, and told me to grab my purse and jacket because we were going straight to the hospital.

After lots of poking and prodding, and laying in an ER bed for what seemed like an eternity, they realized I was actually having contractions every 2 minutes and sent me to Labor and Delivery. Once there, they told me that since I was 34 weeks pregnant, they wouldn't stop the contractions but a few hours and quite a few painkillers later, they gave me a shot to stop the contractions. They told me they didn't know why I was in pain or why I was having contractions. And then an ever so kind nurse informed me that I would be more comfortable at home on my couch. I'm being pretty sarcastic when I say kind, and I wish I knew her name so I could tell her she was very wrong and I got home to my couch to realize I was in more pain than I had been when I first showed up to the hospital.

So Lori and I did as the nurse said and went home. It was a Monday evening so my favorite show was on (The Bachelor). After watching for a few minutes I got in so much pain that I turned it off. If you ask Lori, this is how she knew I was really hurting and that we needed to go back to the hospital. Haha. We had a sectional couch at the time with cushions that came off, so she grabbed those and made me a "bed" in the back of her Excursion. Turns out there are a lot of pot holes between Rexburg and Idaho Falls because that morning I had felt every single one, and the trip back was worse even with the cushions. The contractions would hurt so bad that I would moan (maybe even scream I can't remember) every time we hit a bump. (These contractions are also the reason I didn't realize I was in labor when I really was. My labor contractions were a breeze compared to these!)

Once there, they took me straight to Labor and Delivery and started the process all over again. At this point, I was so exhausted that I don't remember of that night. There were a lot of doctors, a lot of nurses, a lot of tests, and a lot of ultrasounds. All of which showed nothing but a very pregnant girl with contractions. Lori remembers the ultrasound better than I do, but apparently Emmy's hand was near the spot that I felt pain near my hip, almost "pointing" to it.

At 10 a.m. on Tuesday morning they decided they were going to take me for surgery to remove my appendix even though they knew it wasn't my appendix that was causing the pain. They hoped that once in there, they would be able to determine what was wrong. They also told me that since they didn't know what was going on, I could come out of surgery with Emmy having been delivered. Logan was then able to leave work in North Dakota and head to Idaho Falls.

Between Logan not being there before the surgery and the uncertainty of what would happen while I was in there, I was freaking out. They wheeled me into an all white room that had hip hop blaring, put a mask over my face and told me to take deep breaths. I don't think it took more than 3 seconds for me to pass out.

I am pretty sure I will never forget coming out of that surgery. When I woke up I immediately started crying hysterically. I couldn't swallow so they gave me the littlest sip of water then I quickly asked if they had to cut me all the way open. (I hate that stuff.) Nope I was still pregnant and I just had three little cuts and they were bringing in the machines to check on Emmy. A nurse came in, checked on Emmy, said she was fine, and quickly left. It happened so fast that I was sure they didn't really check on her and asked them to bring her back in to check again. Of course they didn't listen and just started to wheel me back to my room and calm me down. Hearing later I guess I really was a mess. Haha.

When I got back to my room the doctors came and explained to me that I had good reason to be in pain. I had an ovary torsion, which basically means that as Emmy was growing, my ovary was twisting and had cut off it's own blood supply and died, so they had to remove it. I was so incredibly thankful that they had finally figured out what was wrong and that I wasn't just crazy. Nine hours after Logan had left work (it usually takes him 11), he was at the hospital showered and with my things. I was so glad he was there to help me recover. After a few days of being at the hospital, we were finally able to go home.