No Sick Time for Mama

So last night I came to the conclusion that I CANNOT get sick! I just can't. Aside from the fact that I am numero uno source of nutrition for two babies, I also have to rock them to sleep when they are cranky (I think there is something about the smell of their milk nearby that soothes them when they are fussy) because my wife can do it all day, but at night when they are tired and fussy it HAS to be me, and this requires both patience and energy. *sigh* both of which I lack when I am under the weather.

At first it was flattering that they wanted me, but now, not so much. Its hard enough to get one baby down (while the other one is making tons of noise) and then to get up and do it again, exhausting. Add to that the fact that as soon as they are asleep I have to pump, and as soon as I am pumping the big guy realizes I'm no longer there and coaxes my wife to bring him out to the living room where I am pumping so he can give me his sad face and get me to disconnect, put my milk making on hold and lay with him again. Then, once he is asleep I try again.

Now the point of this long rant:

I had a really bad toothache the other day (pregnancy made my gums really sensitive) and all I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep. Of course, the big guy needed to be nursed and then the little guy was giving my wife a hard time, so I had to get back up and help put him to sleep (because who can sleep when there is a baby yelling at us). When I was done, I had to pump. I was in so much pain, my milk took forever to "let down" so I was there for an hour and a half when it usually only takes 30-40 minutes to get what I need (About 10 ounces).

I usually have a very high tolerance for pain, so much so, that I didn't need any pain meds after my c-section. We filled the prescriptions anyway, just in case, but I refused to take them. I just hate taking medicine, I don't have the stomach for it and I don't want to pass it to the babies through their breastmilk.

That night, I contemplated taking the per.co.cet I got after my c-section, that is when my wife realized how much pain I was in because she knows I never take anything. I didn't take it, but I did take one 800mg ibu.profen that I also got when I came home. I figured it was better than the per.co.cet (which is tecnically a narcotic). My wife said maybe I had an infection and I should see the dentist the next day. I was fine in the morning but it did get me thinking.

I had just dumped all my milk (about 200 bags of 4 ounces of milk) that I had frozen because it was hitting the 3 month mark, and nobody was using it because I was pumping fresh milk everyday or nursing the big guy, and I needed to put FOOD in there. So of course then I panicked because I thought if I get sick, and have to take antibiotics, that milk would have kept us afloat until I was done with the meds and got my milk supply back up.

So now I've resumed pumping like a maniac, and luckily I can now manipulate my milk supply to as little or as much as I need. I had only been pumping 2-3 times a day (just enough for the little guys bottles) and have now increased it to 5-6 times a day so I can still give the little guy what he needs and still work on building up my frozen stock. I know I always say how much I hate pumping but I have to admit, I love my pump. It is a hospital grade one I got as a rental when the boys were in the NICU.

*Side note: When you have babies that are not able to go home for a while they prescribe you a hospital grade pump so you can stimulate and maintain your milk supply because a regular pump isn't strong enough. I was able to keep mine for 5 months, and I liked it so much I bought my own on e.b.ay.

I really think my pump can make anyone lactate. So far I am able to produce enough milk for the babies and the freezer and I will continue to do so as long as I am able. I hope that one day (probably when I go back to work), if I can no longer keep up with their needs, we can resort to supplementing with our frozen stock until its all gone. and then, and only then, we will be done with this breastfeeding saga.

Heart of Hearts

Today the little one has an appointment with his cardiologist. He is going to have an echocardiogram to see if the holes in his heart have closed. We didn't even find out about these until the day he was discharged from the NICU. The doctor was taking a closer look to see if there was something else keeping him on the oxygen and he happened to see these very very small holes (PDA and PFO are the technical terms). Of course I was immediately worried, but he didn't seem too concerned and said they were very small in comparison to what he usually sees. Still not enough to make me worry any less. *sigh* the poor little guy has really had a tough time.

With his oxygen requirement, blood transfusion (he was very anemic at birth), his heart, and his umbelical hernia, he has been through ALOT. Luckily he has been improving in all these areas. His hernia has completely healed, he is off his oxygen and all his lung medications (with just one breathing treatment), and he hasn't needed any blood since his transfusion. We haven't checked his blood yet, but just from looking at him, he seems to be much much better (in the NICU he was looking really gray). Also, he isn't symptomatic of being anemic (sleepy, not eating, etc.) so we think he is doing well in that dept.

As for his heart, the doctors who have seem him have said they don't "hear" the PDA and PFO anymore. I'm not sure how accurate that can be, so I have taken it with a grain of salt. I need visual proof to believe it. Anyhow, this is the last major milestone of his recovery so I'm hoping today brings more good news.

H.1.N.1.

I have been preparing for flu season since before the boys were born. I knew we would have to be extra careful with new babies, but I'm feeling really anxious since they are preemies, and especially with the little guys history of chronic lung disease. I have already ordered a few bottles (BIG 84 oz bottles-same ones used in hospitals) of the anti-bacterial soap we used while in the NICU (I finally found some online) and also a few cases of the anti-bacterial hand sanitizer. My wife thinks I'm crazy, but I just can't help but worry about the babies. The doctor in the NICU said that the little guy has a very high chance of being admitted to the hospital if he contracts so much as a cold, so I'm not taking any chances with them.

Of course, to add to my concern, every time I pump I sit at the computer and go through the news. Today there is an article on the swi.ne.flu. which points out that not only is it tough on adults, but worse for those under 6 months old (check), with respiratory problems (check), premature infants (check-check) and those who work with kids are more suseptible to it (check). Can I crawl into a cave somewhere and come out sometime in May??

Too add to my misery is the fact that we have alot going on in the coming months and so many invitations to see "people", my most dreaded species. We have already told many people that we just simply won't be attending their events and now I am considering staying in for the holidays, limiting ourselves to immediate family only - like just me and my wife. I have already put some pretty stringent requirements in place for those wanting to come near the boys, but I'm considering revising those to include some kind of space suit.

*If you know me, you know I'm not joking.

For now, I am putting a hold on visitors who are not blood related, and even some who are. I'm canceling any plans to go anywhere in the near future (say the next 6 months or so). I feel like a hermit some days, but others I am just thankful that we have made it this far (going on 5 months) without the boys getting sick. We had a close call with the little one when he was sounding congested but before I had time to worry, he was all better. Luckily I won't be going back to work until January, so I have 4 more months to watch over them like a hawk, and try and keep us all germ free.

Jelly Dictator

When the boys were in the NICU my wife and I had to "scrub in" before we could see them. This consisted of washing with antibacterial soap from our hands to our elbows for one minute. I never knew a minute could take so long. I always sang the slow version of the Happy Birthday Song and at the last "...to you" my water was off and I was reaching for my paper towel. At the NICU I averaged about 7 Happy Birthdays per wash.

Now, let me give you a little information on me before I continue, I hate to have dry hands and I lotion up every moment I get to avoid the horrid sand paper feeling. OCD? Maybe. The soap at the NICU seemed to suck out every last natural oil I had in my hands. Even after the washing, it was highly recommend by the NICU nurses that you use antibacterial gel before and after you touch your baby.

Since we had twins I would have to "jelly" myself up between babies. Since we spent a lot of time there, it was a repetitive routine to cleanse my germy hands. I change a diaper, jelly. I touch my keys, jelly. I sneeze (which was often because it was like an icebox in the NICU), jelly. I scratch my nose, jelly. I think of touching something, JELLY! At the end of the day my hands felt 80 years old! BUT....I was always willing to do it because I didn't want the babies to get sick.

I think the doctors and nurses at the NICU scared my wife and I by telling us about all the infections the babies could get, hence we turned into antibacterial whores. Before the babies got discharged from the hospital my wife stocked up on "free" antibacterial gel. Each time we would visit the boys we came home with a few bottles. I would come home and excitedly tell my wife: "I got one!" and she would look at me disappointed and show me the five bottles she came home with. Needless to say my wife had no shame.

Once the boys were home we used that "jelly" like nobody's business. My wife turned into a "Jelly Dictator". Democracy was out the window. If she told you that you needed jelly, you took it with a smile. I jokenly told her I had nightmares about her chasing me with antibacterial gel. She didn't think it was funny.

On one of our first pulmonary appointments for the little guy we were sent to wait for our doctor in an exam room. While we were there my wife saw the antibacterial soap. Her eyes lit up. Why was I prying the soap dispenser off the wall for my wife? Why was I contributing to her jelly fetish? This was the same soap that sucked the life out of my hands at the NICU and now we were taking it home! Sand paper hands here I come. But.....the worst thing about this doctors visit was right after I took the antibacterial soap the doctor came in and of course he went to wash his hands and THEIR WAS NO SOAP! I was mortified and probably bright red. My wife on the other hand.....cool as a cucumber. No shame. I still love her though.

Life in the NICU

I left out a lot of details of my hospital stay while pregnant because there is just not enough time to describe every day, but the 12 days we spent there both before and after birth were the worst days of our lives. We had the worst nursing staff imaginable, they either didn't know what they were doing or just simply didn't do what they were supposed to be doing, and needless to say I was pretty jaded and fearful for the level of care our babies would get from the nurses in the NICU.

I joke now that becoming a mom has made me the biggest bitch ever, my wife likes to say that I was just a more "challenging" mommy. Either way, I don't think any of us would have made it outta there without speaking up! Although not as bad as the nurses in L&D we had quite a few bumps in our NICU road. The doctors I loved and am still super grateful for, but not so much can be said about a few of the nurses.

Luckily the first 2 weeks were spent in the critical care bay of the NICU which we later learned is where the best nurses are assigned. During the first day and a half I couldn't even go down to the NICU because I was still on some heavy medication to try and stabilize my blood pressure. I'm happy now knowing that at least at this point our boys were still getting really good care, since I wasn't there to watch over them.

Those first two days were pretty tough not being able to see them. I felt robbed, like I knew I was pregnant and had just given birth but I had nothing to show for it. I didn't even feel like a mom. Once I was able to go down to see them, this totally changed. The first time I saw my babies I cried. They were so tiny and full of tubes and IV lines. I couldn't even touch the little guy cause he was on a ventilator. They let me hold the big guy (who at this point wasn't very big at all) and we took lots of pictures and video.

While I was still in the hospital recovering I spent most my time in the NICU learning as much as I could about our sons medical conditions and what to expect. They told us that they would be there at least until their due date which was 2 months away. Going home without them was the hardest thing I ever had to do. As it was I didn't trust the nurses and then to have to leave them with these people for hours at a time, I was lost. I called to check on them every 3 hours around the clock. I asked a million questions and wrote down all their milestones.

The big guy had a fairly easy stay. He was what they called a "feeder and grower" because he had no oxygen requirements. All he needed to do was tolerate his feedings enough to get off the IV, learn to bottle feed and grow. He did these things without much fuss, and aside from a little jaundice, he had no setbacks and came home a month earlier than expected.

The little guy on the other hand had a completely different experience. He was on the ventilator for 2 days and then CPAP for 3 days, and finally the nasal cannula for the remainder of his stay. While I was still in the hospital we had to sign a release to have an umbelical line put in to give him what he needed and check his blood with as little stress to him as possible. He was also very anemic and by the time he was a month old he needed a blood transfusion.

Since it took him longer to tolerate his feedings, he had his IVs in longer and blew out his veins every day (meaning he had to have a new IV put in constantly). To avoid the daily stress of getting poked for a new IV they asked us to sign yet another release to have a PICC line put in. This can be dangerous because its a longer IV that goes in through the arm like a regular IV but its threaded into the bigger veins close to his heart. I found out from one of our nurses that the nurse practitioner had attempted to put the line in and was unsuccessful. I was pissed that they didn't tell us when it was going to happen and more pissed that the doctor didn't do it himself (sorry but no practicing on my son). I went in the next day and insisted on being there for every procedure, and told them that I only wanted doctors to perform any procedures! They understood my concerns and had the doctor attempt the PICC line the next day.

I have to say this one was the hardest to watch. They poked him 9 times! And still couldn't get it in. Finally I said no more. I couldn't watch and it just felt like too much. The doctor agreed and said they'd try again the next day with a different doctor who is known for his keen ability to get IVs in on one shot.

The next day I had my wife go in for the second attempt because I just couldn't watch again. Of course, for her they got this great doctor who got it in on one try. Luckily he only had the PICC line in for exactly one week and then he was eating enough that he didn't need IV fluids. The remainder of his stay was due to his oxygen requirement. I spent every day and night there and called in for the few hours I spent at home. I pumped and tried to breastfeed, but with preemies its close to impossible to breastfeed them while they are so small. That first month I don't remember sleeping at all. It was a constant battle for the little guy to make sure he got the care he needed. Because he was more fragile the doctors didn't want to give him my early breast milk while I was still on medication, so I was constantly reminding the nurses that the big guy got the older milk and the little guy got the newer milk. Doesn't sound too difficult but believe me there are several times I caught them giving him the wrong milk. What made it worse was the fact that they thought they had the power to change the docs orders by saying "oh I'm sure its ok". To which I responded "NO actually it isn't take it out and give him the correct milk!" Luckily he was fed through a tube still so they could just suck it right back out.

This is where I feel like I just turned into a massive bitch. I had no patience with these idiots and I didn't have any desire to hide it. I had to make signs for their charts to say "No student nurses, No cuddle people" because no matter how many times I told them they never seemed to get it. I still don't understand why they would have student nurses in the NICU with all these fragile babies but what really got me was that they don't even ask you. As a parent you have to specifically object to having them work on your babies. Another interesting thing I learned was that they have these cuddle people that are regular volunteers that come in just to hold babies. I think it was for people who can't go in and visit with their babies that often. They are supposed to be supervised by the nurses. Since I was there like 20 hours a day they never had an opportunity to hold our babies. Thankfully! Because I watched some of them handle these little babies and they had no idea how to hold them, and the nurses would use this as break time and leave rather than supervise!

I dreaded leaving them and it became so much harder for the month that the big guy came home and the little guy was still there. My wife was still working and so I had to stay home with the big guy all day and then when she came home I'd spend the evening into the early morning with the little guy at the hospital. So all day I would be calling to make sure they were doing their job. It was a fine line to walk cause I want to make sure everything is done correctly but at the same time I didn't want to piss off the person caring for my baby. I hated it!

The little guy was there a month longer than his brother (seemed like an eternity) and was just not progressing in terms of his oxygen requirement. As his due date got closer the doctor started talking to us about bringing him home on oxygen. I was more than happy to do it so long as we got him outta there. At that point there was nothing they were doing for him that we couldn't do at home. I was there to do all his meds, breathing treatments, feedings, etc. anyway so why not have him home with his brother. As planned, he came home on his due date, and on oxygen. It was exactly a month later than his brother and two months after birth.