Long Time, No Blog

I know, I know. I said I'd write, but the truth is I continue to struggle for the right words. I should be documenting all things Sylvie-chronicling achieved milestones, detailing new discoveries, sharing precious pictures. But with every new development, every first revelation, every adorable photograph, comes despair; A reminder that Sylvie's sweet grandpa isn't here to revel in those moments. Sometimes my conflicting emotions of elation and devastation are so overwhelming. How do I appropriately celebrate life in spite of death? I often find myself amidst an internal struggle of guilt. Guilt for feeling a new mother's joy and then guilt for feeling a grieving daughter's sorrow. Everything that I thought I knew about grief "before" has turned out to be myth. For example, the "Stages of Grief" are non-sense. I'll admit I've never read any Kubler-Ross, but from what I gather she describes grief as a process that eventually ends. I can tell you that I've been in the midst of several stages simultaneously. I've even "progressed" down the line and found myself right back at the beginning. And I doubt I'll ever recover. I am forever a different person. In my head I have divided my life into two time periods as I'm sure many people do after experiencing a major life-altering event... graduations, weddings, births, funerals. Every memory I have I file it into a category of "before daddy died" or "after daddy died." Everyone talks about how difficult the "firsts" are and, no doubt, they're absolutely right. But sometimes those firsts aren't as obvious as you might think. Of course the first Christmas without my dad was difficult, but so was the first time I passed by that tree. Or the first time I ate apple pie. Or the first time I went to Lowe's. I actually have an uncanny ability to relate EVERYTHING-even the most distant, trivial things-to my dad. I'll read an article on CNN about recalled Toyotas. My dad drove a Toyota. I'll see a commercial for Dancing With the Stars. My dad watched Dancing With the Stars (I know, right?!). I'll be slicing tomatoes for dinner and remember my dad asked me to water his tomato plants when he was in the hospital. And then he died. And so did his tomato plants.

Pictures

My awesome brother, Ryan, bought us a flickr photo account. Think he's trying to tell us something? It's kind of a hodge-podge of pictures for now, but we'll eventually get around to organizing it. In the meantime, enjoy!

http://www.flickr.com/photos/thecresswellchronicles

~Mommy

P.S. Can you tell who dressed Sylvie the day she was sportin' her green Daniel Johnston "Hi, how are you?" onsie, black leggings, goofy pink hat, and purple socks? I'll give you a hint... it wasn't me.

Letters Unread

As I try to make sense of my daddy's untimely death, I've been having this internal struggle with spirituality. I'm not a religious person, by any stretch of the imagination, and that's no secret. In fact, anyone who knows me well is probably laughing by now. I hesitate to label myself, but if I had to I probably most closely identify with agnosticism. How can I possibly confirm or deny the unknown? I do, however, have a better understanding and appreciation of people who turn to faith in times of despair. I've been surprised, shocked even, by some of my recent thoughts. I find myself constantly questioning. Where is he? Does he see Sylvie's infectious smile? Can he hear me weeping? Or did he just cease to exist? Either way, I'm finding comfort in the most unsuspecting ways, even if they are fictional... Along with my dad, a piece of me died that day in July. I don't mean that in a melancholy, bemoaning kinda way. You see, my dad didn't ever like to be alone. He was a people-person. If you knew my dad, you knew him as a social butterfly. I often dreaded going anywhere with him as he would inevitably run into someone he knew, turning our quick trip to the hardware store into a lengthy reunion. Moreover, he could walk into a room full of strangers and come out with life-long friends. My dad was never alone and he's not now either. If part of me is gone, then it must be with him, keeping him company. Where ever he is. Likewise, that missing piece of me is not empty. Rather, it is full of memories and my daddy's love.

~Daddy's Little Princess

P.S. In a desperate attempt to stay connected to my the man I so dearly adored, I began writing to him. You can find a collection of letters unread here... Dear Daddy

Circle Of Life

Early Wednesday, July 22, 2009 my sweet daddy laid to rest. A few days prior, we brought him home from the hospital when it became clear that there was nothing more the doctors could do for him. Rather than continue invasive treatments, my daddy decided that he wanted to begin hospice care in the comfort of his own home, surrounded by family. That Monday he called Ryan, Uncle Matt, and Aunt Lisa to ask that they fly in. He also called other family members and friends to say goodbye. It was so surreal at the time and it continues to be. That night we gathered around him and stood vigil as he quickly deteriorated. We held hands, stroked his head, cuddled, shared memories, laughed, and cried. Unfortunately, the pain became unbearable and he asked that we call 911 for an ambulance transport to the hospital with the hopes of getting some relief. We were only at Metroplex for about 10 minutes before he took his final breaths. I wish that I could say he went peacefully in his sleep. The days following are all a blur. Then, on Monday, July 27 family and friends from near and far gathered for the most impressive service. Chris delivered a phenomenal eulogy, Ryan told silly stories, I read my Father's Day poem, Ronny sang two beautiful songs, friends shared special memories, and Scott escorted daddy to his final destination. If it had to be, his memorial far surpassed anything he could have imagined. The words people used to describe my dad are not common of many. My dad was inspiring. Truly inspiring.

Since that day, nearly two months ago, I have sat down to write this "first" entry countless times. I'm able to detail events that took place, but I can't yet articulate my emotions. Mere words can't seem to do my intense feelings justice. Because of that, I've been avoiding. Yes, this blog is primarily about my precious baby girl, but Sylvie is not independent of the rest of my life. Her birth is not mutually exclusive of my dad's death. My mom always told me that dying was a part of living. She's right. Sylvie's existence is symbolic of the proverbial "circle of life." His life ended just as hers begun. With that said, I felt like I couldn't move forward with this blog unless I addressed one of the most significant (THE most traumatic) events of my life. I've since decided that I don't have to, nor can I, sum it up in a single post. Why did I ever think that was necessary? I'm still feeling. I'm still hurting. And that pain will continue. I will never get over losing my dad and I will always miss him. But it's time for me to start therapy. My therapy. I will begin writing again.

~Daddy's Little Princess

Happy Due Date!

Today is Sylvie's original due date. She's now a whopping 7lbs 2.5 oz! I guess Sylvie knew today was the day she was supposed to be born because the girl has kicked it into high gear and started nutritively nursing! Today was the first time ever I actually heard, without a doubt, distinctive swallows. Her latch is more precise and her suck is stronger. I offered her the bottle afterwards and she only took half. She has never not finished a bottle before so I'm feeling confident that she got a good amount of milk straight from the tap. I think this is the turning point I've been waiting for! I'm so proud of my baby girl. And myself.

~Mommy

Memories

Today is my birthday. I am 31. You can't wrap memories up in a box, but that's the only gift I want. More memories. More memories with him. Just the firsts. That's all. Please. Just give me the firsts.

Sylvie's first tooth.
Sylvie's first word.
Sylvie's first step.
Sylvie's first birthday.

Thank You, Jan!

My boppy is the coolest! I like to lay on top of it while I'm nursing with Mommy, it makes me feel so sleepy. Thank you for helping me remain stable and calm, Jan!

~Sylvie

Thank You, Aunt Jo!

This blanket is extra special because my Great Aunt Jo made it for me! She used such pretty colors. Isn't she so talented?! Thank you for thinking about me, Aunt Jo!

~Sylvie

Unemployed

Well, it's official. Last Thursday I quit my job of 4 years as a Pre-K teacher to stay at home with Sylvie. I can't believe I actually took the plunge and did it! It's been something that I've always dreamed of, but was never sure it could be a reality. With Ronny's new job in the district, I think we can swing it. Money is going to be very tight, but it's a sacrifice that will be worth the satisfaction of being with my baby all day, every day. After everything I've been through to get to this baby, there is no way I can miss all of the monumental changes that occur during her first year. I can always make more money, I can't always make more memories.

~Mommy

Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to the two best daddies in the whole wide world. We love you bunches, lots, and tons!



We had a good time at Grandma and Grandpa's house today. We skyped with Uncle Ryan and ate Rudy's BBQ, mmmmmmm. Sylvie broke in her bouncy chair.



Grandma made an apple pie, Grandpa's favorite. It was delicious, as per usual.



Aunt Cathy helped change Sylvie's diaper.



Uncle Chris declined, but gladly held Sylvie once she was clean.



Grandma and Grandpa babysat Sylvie while Daddy and I went to school to pack up and clean out. Now our garage looks like it threw up a Pre-K classroom. I've got a HUGE summer organization project on my hands. Ugh.

~Mommy

Thank You, Uncle Matt!

I love my cozy blanket. And my kitty is just about as big as me! Thank you for keeping me toasty warm, Uncle Matt!

~Sylvie

Thank You, Aunt Lisa!

I love my new car seat! Every time I get in, I am lulled right to sleep. Thank you for keeping me safe, Aunt Lisa, Uncle Roger, Cousin Griffin and Cousin Adriene!

~Sylvie

On The Mend

Sylvie was released from the hospital last Saturday. The doctors almost seemed uneasy about letting her go, reitterating that we should come back immediately if she has any other slight apnea incidents. On her discharge papers, the diagnosis read "Acute Life Threatening Event." That's a sure fire way to freak out mommy. Some one mentioned those terms were probably used to justify hospitalization for the insurance company. On Tuesday she had a follow-up appointment and was given a clean bill of health. She was up to 4 lbs 14 oz. Nursing continues to be a challenge, but we persevere. I'm just not sure how to make the transition from bottle to breast. There isn't much information out there other than annectodal so it appears as though I'm just going to have to figure out what works for us. What I have read, though, contradicts everything the NICU doctors told me. The resistance to breastfeeding from some neonatologist's perspective is that there is no way to precisely measure a baby's intake. However there are many alternatives that can be offered to babies not yet ready to nipple feed. Many other countries feed babies through a syringe or cup until they are ready to transition to nipple feeding. When a bottle is first introduced, it's a major setback for those who intend to later breastfeed. Babies often develop a preference for the bottle as it is instant gratification without much effort. Sylvie seems as conflicted as I am about all of this. She is so calm and comforted at the breast. I can tell she wants to nurse but struggles to stay awake for the time it takes to be satisfied. At the bottle she is frantic and stressed, but she deals knowing that she will soon be full. I've shed a lot of tears over our struggle this week. I feel so guilty and ashamed giving her the bottle, like it's a barrier between us. I desperately want to connect to my baby the way nature intended. I'm so afraid that the window of breastfeeding opportunity is quickly closing and I want to get through it before it does. The feedings are so time consuming that each session runs into the next. I start by offering her the breast for 20 minutes. She latches on to one side like a champ, the other side not so much. She mostly suckles for comfort, not nutrition. Then it takes her anywhere between 20-30 minutes on the bottle. When she's finished eating, I burp her, hold her upright in case she spits up, and wait for her to digest until I feel comfortable enough to lay her down. Then I pump for 20 minutes and when that's over, it's damn near time to start all over again. Sleep is but a distant memory. I can do this knowing that it's temporary, but (pumping) can not continue on a long term basis. The lactation consultants have been great with me, but truth be told, they don't have a lot of experience with breastfeeding preemies. According to them, most preemie moms end up bottlefeeding. The lc's are very impressed with my determination and keep close tabs on me, calling often to check in. I'm proud to report that my situation has prompted the lc's and nicu staff to collaborate more so and research further. Today my mom called one of her LLL friends for advice. She enlisted the help of a world reknowned lc who offered some great tips and encouragement. She reassured me that we're on the right track and we still have plently of time to establish a breastfeeding relationship. Lets hope it happens sooner rather than later. I refuse to give up, but I can certainly understand now why many do.

~Mommy

First Bath

Rub-a-dub-dub, a cute baby in the tub! At first, Sylvie was unsure what to think of her sponge bath. She started to fuss, peed on Mommy, and then quickly realized, "Hey, I kind of like this!" Freshly bathed babes smell sooooooooo good.

~Mommy

ER Visit and Hospitalization

Well, our home-coming was short lived. Early yesterday morning while I was (bottle) feeding Sylvie, she quit breathing several times. The intensity and frequency was far beyond anything it had been before. I rustled her around, patted her back, and blew in her face until she finally gasped for air. When she came to, her breathing was very labored, as if she had been running a marathon. Questioning whether I was an overreacting first time mom or my baby was seriously in danger, I woke Ronny and called the nurse advisory line. After answering a bazillion redundant questions and being put on hold forever, the nurse suggested we bring Sylvie to the emergency room. We quickly packed up and headed to Temple. Expecting a typical ER wait, I was surprised when we were seen right away. Maybe infants are a priority? The medical staff took us back to a room and began running tests. Sylvie handled the poking and prodding much better than her mom as they started an iv, inserted a catheter, x-rayed her chest, and suctioned mucus. She cried a little, but was easily soothed by my words and strokes. A resident consulted with the attending on duty and they concluded that Sylvie needed to be admitted for more tests and observation. Then the obligatory wait began. Ronny and I were so sleep deprived it was physically painful to sit upright in the bright, frigid, sterile exam room. I was running on an hour of sleep and Ronny not much more than that. Several hours passed before we were escorted to a private room in the pediatric ICU. It had been more than 24 hours since Sylvie was released from the NICU so she was no longer eligible to return there. Her brief exposure to the outside world could pose as a potential threat to the other NICU babies. I had grown accustom to and fond of the NICU so the unfamiliarity of this new environment was intimidating. The sight of Sylvie's cage-like, institutional-style aluminum crib prompted tears to flow. From me, not her in case that was not clear. It reminded me of those investigate reporting segments on Russian orphanages where the children are severely developmentally delayed due to lack of human interaction. I digress. Once we were settled in the room, a steady flow of doctors and nurses came in to exam Sylvie and question us. I had repeated the story so many times it was now a well-rehearsed script that just poured out. Her chest x ray revealed two small, yet concerning areas that appeared to be the start of pneumonia. As a precaution, she received several doses of antibiotics through her iv. The doctor ordered more rounds of tests to rule out some other possible causes for her condition such as whooping cough. Apparently there had been a recent outbreak in the county. Ronny and I alternated shifts through the night so we could take turns caring for Sylvie and resting. Sylvie has, thus far, proved to be a very content and easy baby, but she has seemed a little fussy during this hospital stay. Now I don't want my baby to be upset, but I must admit that I have enjoyed seeing her so comforted by nursing. It seems as though our breastfeeding relationship has improved and we've bonded even more so. I guess that's what happens during trying times. Today we learned that Sylvie's labs and urinalysis came back normal and she tested negative for RSV. However, she does have the paraflu virus, a mild form of influenza. There is no treatment, it just has to run it's course. This news coupled with the pneumonia diagnosis makes the doctors want to be overly cautious so they opted to keep her an extra night. We're hoping to be released tomorrow. In the meantime, Ronny and I are going to give Sylvie her first bath. 18 days old and the poor child has yet to be cleansed! Pictures to follow.

~Mommy

We're Home!

Sylvie was discharged from the hospital late Friday afternoon and we've hit the ground running! Hence, the lack of update. My apologies. Of course we're elated to finally have her home, but with any major life changing situation comes struggle. To say that we're "overwhelmed" would be an understatement of gross proportions. I had no inclinging I would react the way I did, but I pretty much fell apart once we got home. The house was a disaster, breastfeeding proved to be a challenge, and I was having intense (ir)rational fears of her stopping breathing. Things are getting better as we get into the groove of things, but this has been way more difficult than I ever anticipated. Cliche? Probably. True? Definitely. We spent most of the weekend staring at Sylvie, changing diapers, and feeding. Speaking of, Sylvie's diet has also been another huge stressor. I keep receiving conflicting advice and opinions from the hospital staff about breastfeeding preemies, leaving me feeling torn and guilty. Sylvie's neonatologist seems to be of the opinion that my breast milk isn't sufficient enough to meet her caloric needs and recommends that I supplement with fortified formula and vitamins. Conversely, the lactation consultant believes that my milk is better than anything synthetic. According to her, the doctors' knowledge of breastfeeding benefits are minimal and they are most interested in fattening up babies the quickest way possible and formula is a great "filler" that will pack on the pounds. In my mind it's the difference between eating one potato or five apples. I'm sure the nutrient values are not the same and maybe that's a terrible analogy, but it makes sense to me. Normally I would follow the guidance of the medical professional, but in this case my mother's intuition leads me to doubt her. Yeah, yeah, yeah, I remember what happened the last time I did that, but this is different. I am not disregarding her just to be difficult. After all, this is my precious baby and I want to do what's best to ensure she thrives. I have done a lot of research and everything I read says my body knows that I've had a baby prematurely and will compensate for Sylvie's early arrival by producing milk with extra nutrients than that of full term milk. In addition, she eats breast milk in larger amounts and with much more ease and comfort than formula. When she was being fed formula, she would often cough, choke, spit up, and forget to breathe, causing her heart rate (and mine) to drop. I absolutely dreaded feedings and that is certainly not the way it should be. With all that said, I left the hospital nodding my head in agreement with the neonatologist and promptly tossed the formula when we got home. Oops? I have been feeding my baby strictly breast milk and she loves it. In fact, today we had Sylvie's first pediatrician appointment and she is now up to 4 lbs 7 oz, a gain of 8 oz since Thursday-holla! That's my girl. :) Now we're faced with the question of when and at what rate can we wean away the EBM bottles and go exclusively to the breast. She's still small and tires easily so I want to give her some time to grow and mature. Breastfeeding is a more difficult skill that requires thought. I have high expectations for her, but also don't want to force her before she's ready. We're both still learning positions and latch. I'm also trying to find the confidence that she will be getting an adequate amount of milk. In other news, my incision is indeed infected so I'm on antibiotics. The doctors went ahead and stitched me up which makes me totally nervous to think they closed up grody germs inside of me. Hopefully the medicine will take care of it and I can put this all behind me. I am far more sore now that ever before. I'm going to attempt to get a few hours sleep before Sylvie wakes. I leave you with cuteness.

~Mommy

Homeward Bound?!

I'm back at the Ronald McDonald House on a break in between feedings. I just talked to Dr. Guo, Sylvie's neonatologist, and she said that we could take Sylvie home either tomorrow or Friday-it's up to us! Oh. My. God. They're going to let me take home a 3 lb. 14 oz. baby?! She's mine?! I actually get to keep her?! My mind is flooded with a wide range of emotions-elation, relief, concern, doubt, disbelief. Mostly I'm just nervous about her size-my baby is teeny tiny! Dr. Guo could sense my anxiety and offered to let us stay, as a family, in the transition suite overnight. It's set up like a hotel room for parents to adjust to caring for a preemie with the reassurance, education, and support of medical staff close by. At a moment's notice, a nurse or doctor could be there to lend a helping hand for us nervous first-timers. We opted to stay tommorow night as we anticipate little sleep and Ronny will only have to struggle through one more work day. Plus, it will give us a little time to pack up and check out. A mommy in the NICU warned me not to believe it until I see it. Apparently, she was told her baby was being discharged on 5 separate occassions and it didn't actually happen until the 6th time. But her baby had more issues than Sylvie. Every time she was about to go home, her heart rate would drop, something that automatically sets you back 7 days. Sylvie still has to have her biliruben checked and she has to pass her car seat test. I'm not holding my breath, but things are looking quite favorable.

~Mommy

P.S. Speaking of car seats, my awesome Aunt Lisa bought Sylvie hers. It's so nice! Thank you, Lisa!

Party At Sylvie's Crib

Today brought the Cresswell's more good news. Sylvie has graduated from her isolette to an open crib! She's maintained her body temperature so she no longer needs the regulation from the incubator. We knew she could do it! She was also put on ad-lib feedings, meaning she can eat how ever much she wants. We tried her with 40 ml and she seems satisfied with that amount. Dr. Guo also gave me the green light to nurse her at every feeding. You know I'm a happy mama! Now I know I'm probably biased, but I'm thinking this girl may be a bit advanced. I am, as are her doctors and nurses, shocked at how mature she seems to be and how quickly she's progressing. I had been giving it some time, but I finally asked about discharge criteria. Dr. Guo reiterated that Sylvie does not have to be a certain weight, she just has to...

• tolerate her feedings, check
• be with out heart rate drops for a week, check
• pass her car seat test, pending
• be at least 35 weeks (gestation), Wednesday (!!!)

I also have to take an infant cpr class so I'm registered for that on Wednesday. It seems as though "Wednesday" is a big day for us! I'm not getting my hopes up too high, but I have a sneaking suspicion our Sylvie is going to be coming home sooner than we expected. :) I had my follow up appointment in the clinic today and Dr. McBrayer commented on how well cared for my incision appears. After consulting with others, she decided to forgo stitching for now and let it heal from the inside out. We have to clean it twice a day and pack it with gauze. I go back on Friday to re-evaluate.

~Mommy

Transition

Sylvie's nurse called just as we were about to head to the hospital for her 7:30 p.m. feeding with news that she is being moved to the transition nursery! This nursery is for the less needy preemies that are just waiting to gain weight before going home. Of course we rushed up there as fast as we could to celebrate. We must've told her a million times how proud we are. I'm sure the nurses think we're loons. She is up an ounce from yesterday and she's grown a half an inch since birth! Sylvie is also maintaining her body temperature so they are steadily decreasing her isolette temp. in preparation for the move to an open crib. She has fractions of a degree to go. Come on, Baby, you can do it!

~Mommy

Mama Drama

I did seem to be healing well until a routine visit to the bathroom today. I started to sit down on the toilet when I heard a 'pop' and blood spewed everywhere. I knew instantly what had just happened. My c-section incision literally burst open. It didn't hurt but I panicked nonethless. I yelled for Ronny and grabbed some maxi pads to absorb the fluid and pressed them firmly on my abdomen. He rushed me to Labor and Delivery triage and, much to my surprise and slight relief, the doctors were not at all alarmed. Apparently this is a common occurence, especially in emergency c-sections. It's crazy because I often joked with Ronny about this exact scenario every time he hit a pot hole in the road or in an attempt to get him to do sympathy chores/errands. Who knew that kinda thing actually happened?! With my luck, it's no wonder. The doctor just packed the opening with gauze, instructed Ronny to change it twice a day, and told me to come back on Monday to see about getting it stitched back up. Like I said, it doesn't hurt, but I'm totally freaked out about having this gaping hole in my tummy.

~Mommy

They Call Her Mellow Yellow

My poor Sylvie has a mild case of jaundice so she is spending the day under phototherapy lights. She absolutely hates the little mask she has to wear and tries, sometimes successfully, to pull it off. We've gone in a few times and she's worked the mask down over her mouth and nose. When she hears our voices, she turns in response and that just about melts my heart. She knows her Mommy and Daddy. The worst part is that we can't hold her for very long. I hope her biliruben levels decrease by tomorrow so I can snuggle my sweet baby.

~Mommy

Day 1

I have been moved to the post partum unit which is just a hop, skip, and jump away from the NICU. Of course I'm not hopping, skipping, nor jumping just yet. But I did get my catheter and IV removed this morning so I am much more independently mobile now. I'm also much more alert now that all of the hard core drugs are out of my system. I was so eager to see Sylvie this morning I could hardly contain myself. The nurses showed us how to take her temperature, change her diaper, and clean her umbilical cord stump. Once she was dressed and swaddled, I held her to my breast and she instinctively latched on. I lost it. I have dreamt of this moment for so long. The nurses and doctors seem to frown upon me nursing her so soon but she is obviously ready and willing. They are "allowing" me to attempt once a day but I sneak more often. I want her to strictly breastfeed as soon as she's able so I see no harm in introducing it now. The girl could use the extra calories! My milk hasn't fully come in yet but I am faithfully attached to the pump every 3 hours so it shouldn't be long. All of my family came to visit so they took turns meeting Sylvie. I first took my dad. We exchanged very little words but our emotions spoke volumes. After all of the recent fear and uncertainty of his health, I felt a sense of relief today when my daddy held his first grandchild for the first time. We both just cried and cried. I'm still not satisfied and long for more time but we have reached one milestone that we've all thought not possible. Lets hope for many more.

~Mommy

Birth Story

My blood pressures were higher than normal on Saturday morning and my swelling had worsened so the doctor on call, of whom I am not very fond, decided it would be best to begin the induction. I was rather upset and doubting his decision. I wanted us to get through the next couple of days to the originally scheduled induction date by increasing my blood pressure medication as I hadn't yet maxed out. (Not to mention, I was really looking forward to the on-again/off-again baby "sprinkle" my amazingly supportive friends had planned to throw me that day.) I was certain that would have been the decision of my other doctors. Alas, Dr. Poor Bedside Manners assured me time was running out and we shouldn't push our luck. Naturally, I was feeling defeated and betrayed by my body again. I reluctantly agreed and at 11:00 a.m. a resident inserted a dose of cytotec into my cervix to stimulate contractions and dilation. I was hooked up to the NST and started on a magnesium (seizure prevention) and saline IV drip. I was comfortable and, luckily, not feeling the side effects associated with mag. My friends and family went ahead with the celebration and joined me in my laboring room. Thy were SO good to me and I definitely have the memory I so desperately wanted. One of my students and her mom even showed up making it even more special. I was bawling like a fool! After opening tons of presents and visiting, everyone left and the doctor checked my cervix again. Still closed. She administered another dose of cytotec and shortly thereafter I started contracting. By 8:00 p.m. they were strong enough to warrant a request for medication so they gave me an injection of fentanyl. I tried to sleep but by then I was so uncomfortable that I couldn't so I just closed my eyes and rested. Lather, rinse, repeat a few times. At 2:00 a.m. my doctor and favorite nurse, Kristi, came in to check me. I was 1 cm dilated and my blood pressure had skyrocketed to 180/90. Ronny was sleeping on the couch so I asked Kristi to help me to the bathroom. I got up and as soon as I sat on the toilet I told her I felt like I was going to pass out. Being that this is a common occurrence for me, I knew for sure I was about to faint. She did her best to calm me but I started to lean toward the floor, begging her to let me lay down. I started telling her "I'm going, I'm going!" While she paged a doctor for help getting me into bed, I felt pressure and the urge to push though I knew it wasn't the baby. I yelled "Something is coming out!" and I passed a blood clot about the size of a baseball and began gushing blood. When they got me on the bed and hooked me back up to the NST, Sylvie's heart rate plummeted. That is when things got very scary. Doctors and nurses were swarming everywhere and yelling orders to each other about prepping the OR "STAT" for an emergency c-section. Ronny was standing there in shock and disbelief. No one was really acknowledging me as they ran the gurney down the hall. I'm not even sure of my reaction as I was rather doped up. Ronny wasn't allowed in the operating room with me. I remember crying and begging them to save my baby. Kristi explained that I was going under general anesthesia so I would be asleep for the surgery. When I came to, doctors were hovering above me telling me I had a beautiful baby girl who came out wailing. Her apgar scores were 8 and 9. They also informed me that my pre-eclampsia had progressed so viciously that my placenta ruptured and tore in half. Remember that "blood clot"I spoke of? Yeah, not a blood clot. That was part of my placenta. I probably don't need to say how horrible I feel for second guessing Dr. Poor Bedside Manners. Ronny got to be with Sylvie the entire time and came in shortly after I was waking up with video and pictures of the most precious tiny baby I have ever seen. I took some time to recover and after a few hours, Ronny and I went to the NICU to see her. Although he had been with her for several hours, Ronny waited to hold her so I could be the first. My husband is amazing. And so is our daughter. Now I know how my mom must've felt the first time she held me. I finally fully understand and appreciate how much she loves me.

~Mommy

Birth Announcement

After 4 years, several thousand dollars, countless invasive tests, an ovarian ectopic pregnancy, a miscarriage, one surgery, 2 weeks of bedrest, a 5 week hospital stay, and a lot of heart ache, my dreams have finally come true. And I'd do it all over again... and again, and again, and again.

Sylvie Grace Cresswell made her grand entrance into the world on Sunday, May 24th, 2009 at 2:51 a.m. by way of a very dramatic emergency cesarean section. Weighing in at a petite 3 lbs. 12 oz. and 16 in. long, she is healthy and beautiful. Sylvie will probably have to stay in the NICU for 2-3 weeks so she can plump up, but as of today she has required little medical intervention-no ventilators, oxygen, c-pap, pic lines, or feeding tubes, she's just sleeping in an isolette to help regulate her body temperature. I'm sore, swollen, and starving (been on a clear liquid diet for 3 days and low-sodium before that, yuck), but those minor inconveniences are overshadowed by my joy to finally be holding my miracle baby. Thank you all dearly for the thoughts, prayers, and precious gifts.

~Mommy