Hey everyone...Happy Monday, day 32 of our hospital stay. I am sitting in a waiting room while they try to get #3 PICC line in Abigail. Poor girl was probably stuck 20 times or more over the weekend for attempts at IV's or trying to draw a blood sample. Out of all those sticks, they had NO success, not even once!! She is bruised up everywhere, from head to toe! Let's hope that this PICC attempt is successful and that it doesn't cause another infection. They need the PICC to finish her 10 day course of antibiotics. She has started to eat better last couple of days.... remember goal is 60 ml, she drinking anywhere from 24-48 ml..
Well, I guess that's it for now. Have a great week! Yeah they got the PICC in!!
post op day 2
love playing with my toys
what a cutie
Congential Heart Disease
Congenital Heart Disease is the #1 birth defect in America
looking like my big brother Jackson
my big brother
My Crib
Big Brother
Welcome
perfect
About Me
- Heartmom Rorick
- Welcome baby Abigail Ruth. Born on April 9, 2009 at 8:19am at St. Luke's Hospital in Houston, Texas. I weighed 6lbs and 6 oz. I was then transferred to Texas Children's Hospital in the NICU.
The family
Yeah!!! Finally!
ReplyDeleteGinger
I sure miss being at the hospital with baby Abigail, and everyone else. It was great being there and staying at night at the hospital, having "night-duty". Now I can understand what ya'll are going through, and seeing how tough it is!. Abigail is so special and has a big family that loves her dearly. Hope she gets to go home soon.
ReplyDeleteI love ya'll. Aunt Patsy
Have you seen this poem? I have it on my site along with my poems and thought you would find it interesting:
ReplyDeleteWhat it means to be the parent of a heart baby...
What does it mean to be the parent of a child with a heart defect?
It means going into your baby’s room a dozen times a night just to check to see if he’s still breathing.
It means standing over the crib to watch the chest rise and fall and when you don’t see it move, you begin to panic and put your head down close to your baby’s face to try and hear him breathe.
It means that when you don’t see the chest move and you don’t hear him breathing (because your own heart’s beating is drowning out any other sound in the room), you put your finger under the baby’s nose to feel the air on your finger – until you wake the baby and it stirs – and you’re thankful, so thankful that he’s still with you.
It means feeling a huge sense of relief when he hears you and opens his eyes and smiles.
It means saying a prayer of thanks for another day.
It means measuring out his medication and panicking if he spits some of it out. How much did he spit out? One cc? Two or three? Then wondering if you should guesstimate how much more he should have and if you’d overmedicate him.
It means checking his nail beds against your own to determine how blue he is today.
It means asking your husband, your mother, or your sister, “Do his lips look blue to you?”
It means snuggling him in an extra blanket for fear he won’t be warm enough.
It means worrying that even a sniffle could cause an infection that could harm his heart.
It means taking your baby to the doctor and worrying that he will catch something in the waiting room, so you walk back and forth in the corridor until the nurse calls his name and takes you straight back to the examination room.
It means knowing that everyday is a blessing and a gift.
It means knowing that you are the luckiest person in the world, just to be a parent.
It means cherishing every moment, every breath with such intensity that you feel tears come to your eyes for no apparent reason.
It means praying for a miracle to save your baby’s life.
It means praying your marriage is strong enough to endure the hospitalizations, separations, and grief.
It means praying for the will to live, even if your baby doesn’t.
It means your own heart knows a pain, no parent should know.
It means feeling weak, helpless, angry, and depressed because your child’s fate is out of your hands.
It means feeling strong, determined, and brave because you know you have to be.
It means your love knows new unlimited boundaries.
It means your pride in your child’s accomplishments is unparalleled.
It means your pain has taught you a deeper sense of compassion than you ever imagined.
It means we are all united by the same feelings.
It means that we all know the mixed up emotions of dealing with death – but more importantly of living with life.
It means that even though we are strangers, we are more to each other than friends could ever be. 1996, by Anna Jaworski
When we were there we learned with Parrish (because he was a hard stick too) is that: there is only suppose to be 3 tries a shift or per nurse. Also, having them use heat wraps can help with circulation. Sometimes we would have the Kangaroo Crew come to help. Paulette is one nurse who was great that I can think of. A few times we would just ask them to stop and give Parrish a break- but sometimes it depended on the doc/ nurse on at the time whether they would just keep trying or let him rest. Sugar worked at the beginning when he was smaller... I don't know if this helps and you may already know all this- just adding my experience one heart mom to another!
ReplyDeleteShe is just precious! I hope mommy, daddy and Jack are doing well! You are all in my thoughts and prayers!
ReplyDeleteIt was so great coming up there to see you Holly, and your precious baby girl. I'm so glad I was finally free of my little man long enough to spend some quality time. You look great, keep up the good thoughts and continue to be optimistic. Hope you all have a great week.
ReplyDeleteOh, and good luck Haley, with your interview tonight!!