We had another appointment at CHOP yesterday to check on Brigid's progress, and we're happy to report that she's looking even better now than she was a month ago.
In fact, from the obstetrical standpoint, we have been discharged from CHOP altogether. She is growing well, looking strong and healthy, and even the chorioamniotic separation seemed to be looking better - either closing or repairing - and doesn't seem to be a major issue anymore.
Only her heart is not 100% normal, and still it's looking better than it did at our last appointment. The valves are no longer leaking at all, and the ventricles seem to be functioning better. The only remaining issues are that the wall between the ventricles seems to be slightly weakened and the right ventricle appears a little "bulbous" in shape. Her heart is slightly enlarged still, but the hope is that all of these things would continue in their current trend and would heal over time. We will have one more appointment with fetal cardiology in a month, and if things are continuing to improve, that will likely be our last visit to CHOP altogether.
It was seven weeks ago today that we learned that our twins had TTTS. That has meant seven weeks of bed rest. Seven weeks of Patrick shouldering the majority of the childcare and housework, in addition to his job.
I've had two hospital stays - the first two of my life, besides the days following the birth of our boys. We have had good news, bad news, hopes answered, hopes dashed, reassurances and disappointments. We've cried through every doctor's appointment, good or bad, and are still not feeling one hundred percent confident that we'll be adding a healthy baby Brigid to our family in the next few months, though that confidence is growing more and more.
Patrick and I talked yesterday about how difficult this experience must be for people who do not have a faith in God. How sad to go through this with no hope for being reunited with little ones who have died, without trusting that there is a reason for this suffering - that it will make us stronger and bring us closer to each other and closer to the Lord. We have felt the prayers - of family, friends, and people we don't even know - carrying us through this difficult time. They bring us peace and comfort where we would otherwise feel overwhelmed and full of sorrow. Thank you for praying for us and for our baby girl! Thank you for doing our laundry, for cleaning our home, for mowing our lawn, for caring for our children, for sending us care packages, for bringing us meals, for checking in with us to see what we might need before you go out to do an errand. We are humbled, grateful, and so very blessed.
And we're pretty sure that we couldn't have gotten this far without your help.
Wednesday, April 27, 2011
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Days in Waiting
It's clear to me that the Lord is trying to teach me to put each day in His hands.
After having some contractions on and off this past weekend, we asked a neighbor to come and stay with our boys once they were all in bed on Sunday night and Patrick and I headed into the hospital. It was a scary time. I was crampy and contracting fairly regularly and we were worried.
Once I was taken back to triage, they put me on the contraction monitor and could see that they were coming at a steady pace. The first order of business was to get them to stop. The nurse gave me a shot of terbutaline, which is appropriately named because it made me feel like my heart was in turbo mode, and it wasn't until after she'd administered it and left the room that I thought to ask what it might do to little Brigid's heart, which certainly doesn't need any more issues. Shaky and feeling weird from the medication, I sat there looking at Patrick and fearing that this was going to be it. We'd deliver not only our deceased baby, but our live baby at a pre-viable age and have to hold her while the doctors were unable to do anything to help. It is my biggest fear right now.
The ultrasound tech came in to measure my cervix to see if the contractions were serving to shorten it and advance labor, and from the measurements she took, it seemed that way. I started to panic a little.
I was admitted for overnight observation and Patrick went back to the house to relieve our kind neighbor since it was now almost midnight. They hooked me up to IV fluids, gave me another medication to stop the contractions called Procardia, and hooked me up to the fetal heart monitor and the contraction monitor. Then they suggested I try to get some sleep.
How?
That was Sunday night. Since then, contractions have seemed to stop and then restarted a couple of times, I've gone off my IV and then had to go back on, I've increased the frequency and then the dosage of the Procardia. I've had an ultrasound to confirm that Brigid is doing okay and that my cervix was not shortening like we'd thought. I closed my eyes for a little while this morning, and, just as I'd had a brief vision of the Lord welcoming baby Fiona into his arms a few weeks ago, I had another this morning of a nurse bringing a healthy baby girl to my bedside, and it gave me hope. Thanks to a sweet nurse who took some time this afternoon to pull up a stool beside my bed and ask me what I was thinking about or afraid of, I learned today of a baby boy who was born in this hospital at 23 weeks and is now a thriving two-year-old. She wears his photo on her name badge to remind her why she does what she does every day. She sat and asked about our story and cried with me as I recounted all we've been through in the past four weeks. She was so very reassuring and encouraging, as I've had lots of time alone in this hospital bed to think and worry about things the past few days.
It's now Wednesday night. I have had only five contractions all day, and the doctor seems to think that I should be able to go home on this medication, because, even though the dosage makes me feel very strange since they've increased it, it is working. I miss my home. I miss my boys. If you can believe it, I miss cooking and grocery shopping and running the vacuum (especially since we just got a new one and I haven't gotten to use it yet)!
We are, as we have been from the start, in waiting. That can be frustrating at times, but it's also somehow peaceful and reassuring knowing that things are not in our own hands. There are things I can do: staying in bed, drinking 200 ounces of fluid per day (!) and taking my medication. But the outcome is in the hands of our trustworthy and all powerful heavenly Father, who works all things together for our good and loves us very much. In happy times, when things are going well, it's easy to forget Him as the giver of all good things, but during these days of uncertainty, I feel myself drawing close to Him for comfort and peace. While I am often tempted to fear and worry, there are more times that I feel close to Him and confident that He is more than able to bring us a healthy baby girl.
But for now, we wait.
After having some contractions on and off this past weekend, we asked a neighbor to come and stay with our boys once they were all in bed on Sunday night and Patrick and I headed into the hospital. It was a scary time. I was crampy and contracting fairly regularly and we were worried.
Once I was taken back to triage, they put me on the contraction monitor and could see that they were coming at a steady pace. The first order of business was to get them to stop. The nurse gave me a shot of terbutaline, which is appropriately named because it made me feel like my heart was in turbo mode, and it wasn't until after she'd administered it and left the room that I thought to ask what it might do to little Brigid's heart, which certainly doesn't need any more issues. Shaky and feeling weird from the medication, I sat there looking at Patrick and fearing that this was going to be it. We'd deliver not only our deceased baby, but our live baby at a pre-viable age and have to hold her while the doctors were unable to do anything to help. It is my biggest fear right now.
The ultrasound tech came in to measure my cervix to see if the contractions were serving to shorten it and advance labor, and from the measurements she took, it seemed that way. I started to panic a little.
I was admitted for overnight observation and Patrick went back to the house to relieve our kind neighbor since it was now almost midnight. They hooked me up to IV fluids, gave me another medication to stop the contractions called Procardia, and hooked me up to the fetal heart monitor and the contraction monitor. Then they suggested I try to get some sleep.
How?
That was Sunday night. Since then, contractions have seemed to stop and then restarted a couple of times, I've gone off my IV and then had to go back on, I've increased the frequency and then the dosage of the Procardia. I've had an ultrasound to confirm that Brigid is doing okay and that my cervix was not shortening like we'd thought. I closed my eyes for a little while this morning, and, just as I'd had a brief vision of the Lord welcoming baby Fiona into his arms a few weeks ago, I had another this morning of a nurse bringing a healthy baby girl to my bedside, and it gave me hope. Thanks to a sweet nurse who took some time this afternoon to pull up a stool beside my bed and ask me what I was thinking about or afraid of, I learned today of a baby boy who was born in this hospital at 23 weeks and is now a thriving two-year-old. She wears his photo on her name badge to remind her why she does what she does every day. She sat and asked about our story and cried with me as I recounted all we've been through in the past four weeks. She was so very reassuring and encouraging, as I've had lots of time alone in this hospital bed to think and worry about things the past few days.
It's now Wednesday night. I have had only five contractions all day, and the doctor seems to think that I should be able to go home on this medication, because, even though the dosage makes me feel very strange since they've increased it, it is working. I miss my home. I miss my boys. If you can believe it, I miss cooking and grocery shopping and running the vacuum (especially since we just got a new one and I haven't gotten to use it yet)!
We are, as we have been from the start, in waiting. That can be frustrating at times, but it's also somehow peaceful and reassuring knowing that things are not in our own hands. There are things I can do: staying in bed, drinking 200 ounces of fluid per day (!) and taking my medication. But the outcome is in the hands of our trustworthy and all powerful heavenly Father, who works all things together for our good and loves us very much. In happy times, when things are going well, it's easy to forget Him as the giver of all good things, but during these days of uncertainty, I feel myself drawing close to Him for comfort and peace. While I am often tempted to fear and worry, there are more times that I feel close to Him and confident that He is more than able to bring us a healthy baby girl.
But for now, we wait.
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