Little T's latest trick: Yanking and strangulation (yikes)

Little T demonstrated his latest trick twice yesterday. He can use his newfound dexterity to yank out his NG tube, even though it's taped close to his face. We keep trying different techniques and he figures them out and yanks it out again. Then he gazes up at us with a huge triumphant grin. Often I want to smile back at him and cheer "Good for you! Nothing wrong with your brain!"

Perhaps in revenge for its ill treatment, his tube tried to strangle him last night. I woke to his feeding pump beeping insistently: Flow blocked. The flow was blocked, because the tube was wrapped around his neck!! I have no idea how it happened except he must have been pulling it. I unwrapped it from his neck and he went back to sleep. I hope he doesn't try any tube tricks tonight!

Special K day

Today turned out to be a day almost entirely directed by Special K. We didn't consciously do it, but it turned out to be a good thing. In the morning we lazed around and wrote thank you notes for presents given at Special K's birthday party. They're over a month late, but considering everything that's going on with us, I think it was okay.

That still leaves the Christmas gift thank yous. With K's party, the presents came from folks who either knew us too little for me to tell such personal info, or family and friends close enough to see up close what we've been going through and understand that the thank yous are late. But most lf our Christmas gifts are from distant relatives who would expect to be told what's going on. And my parents have been filling in people somewhat. But it's a bit awkward. An entirely blunt letter would begin:

Dear Distant Relative,
Sorry I didn't write you in January as I was supposed to. Instead I was denying to myself and everyone else that Little T's tumour was growing again. It was a very rude shock, because his tumour had been shrinking and he seemed so happy and healthy. Near the end of the month, we took him to the ER as the fog of denial finally lifted late one Sunday night. Little T spent 10 days in the hospital with Kasabach Merritt Syndrome. Then he caught RSV and was back in the hospital again. Somehow this was harder for us to deal with than when he was in the NICU, because we knew what it was like to have him home and he knows about home too. We grieved. We're still grieving. We've also lost the false sense of security we had when Little T was first discharged from the NICU. We now know it's going to be a long road. We've had several ups and downs since then. And we needed to recover sufficiently from the trauma of January to even be able to think about Christmas when we were naively happy and optimistic. I'm still optimistic, but I no longer believe as I did then that Little T's days of hospitalization are over for good.

Anyway I didn't write any Christmas letters and that thought passed away. After writing K's birthday thank yous, Little T and C went to the farmers' market. Special K initially refused to go, and then changed her mind and decided to go, but it was too late, C & Little T were long gone. We read story books, walked around downtown and went to a friend's open house. Then C and Special K "flew a kite". Special K held the kite up to the wind where it fluttered, but didn't actually fly. She had no interest in letting go. All in all, a very pleasant mellow day.

Why Little T was screaming yesterday aka another trip to the hospital

Little T started screaming again just now. That reminded me of last night, which I had put out of my mind. Last night we figured out at least one reason Little T was screaming yesterday. C checked Little T's Broviac dressing and found a nasty red rash and some fluid underneath. Some vomit had probably washed under the dressing and his skin was irritated from the acid. Of course we didn't know that for sure, and C didn't want to remove the dressing in case it was an infection. A Broviac is a central intravenous line that goes directly through the jugular vein which quickly flows to the heart. Not something to mess around with. So we contacted the Hematologist on call. He told us to take him to the Day Hospital, which was open until 10. What a relief we didn't have to go to the ER, a huge germ factory, which costs us $100 for the privilege of visiting.

My mother's intuition was so sure that it was just vomit that I didn't even go with C, but instead stayed home with Special K so she could sleep. Of course she didn't sleep very well, and is very tired now.

And it was just vomit. Not "just" to him, the vomit left on his skin was very painful. When he vomits on my skin, I have to wash it off right away or it burns terribly. And I don't have baby skin. Little T once again showed his sweet easy going nature. Me, I'd have screamed a lot with vomit taped onto my skin and would not have been pawned off with a binky. Little T just screamed now and then and he was soothed by his binky.

I checked his Broviac just now and it was fine. So there's another reason he screamed just now. Looks like he's just tired and very frustrated that he can't put his Binky in his mouth himself.

I enjoy being a girl! aka My first ever pedicure

This morning I got my first ever pedicure with my friend Jenny. I loved it!!! It was wonderful!!! Best thing: I sat down for an hour and someone massaged my poor neglected feet and legs. I put my aching feet into a warm whirling foot bath or foot spa. I got a warm yogurt massage of my legs and then a nice rub with hot stones. And after a toe trim, my toenails were painted a nice bright plum.

For the first time in my life, my toes look beautiful. I keep looking down at my feet in amazement. Jenny says my toes look like candy. It made me feel more beautiful.

I feel like I'm slowly emerging from the cocoon of Little T's pregnancy, medical issues and constant visits to the hospital.

Now I have a new dream!! I have a dream that one day I'll be able to get a manicure.

My disability is weird. It doesn't affect my lower body at all, so a pedicure was no problem, but I jerk too much to get a manicure. But someday I'll find the right drug, so I can!

How I'm reducing clutter: Take one, give three

I just decided to reduce clutter in my life. Well the truth is I decided again. This time I think I have a better system: If I buy something that's going to stay in my house, I have to find three things to give away, or at least put away until Little T gets older. When Little T gets older, I can bring things out, but then I have to give away 3 baby things. I just had my first test today -- a trip to Target. And so far so good. It made me think about whether I really wanted or needed something, because I value my time more than money and it's a little bit of a pain to find three things. So I didn't buy some snack containers.

So here's what I bought and gave/put away:

a size 3 soccer ball for Special K to learn how to kick. She's going to a soccer class later this summer

a wooden train she never plays with

an annoying Elmo car that ran out of its batteries

a sponge car she used to love, but now never plays with

a large water bottle with measuring lines and a wide mouth for mixing up Little T's formula

a Haas water bottle with a hard straw that hurts my mouth

a KAWL plastic coffee holder with an opening in its lid so I can spill it if I jerk

a honey bear sippy cup that's incredibly annoying to clean

The irony is that as I was making up this list and feeling very pleased and proud of myself, a delivery man on behalf of Coram called to deliver -- yes you guessed it more stuff!! At least it's formula so I don't have to give away more stuff.

From rasping to screaming to sleeping

I'm sitting in my family room while little T tries to sleep. Periodically he wakes up and screams. He struggles to find his binky and put it back in his mouth, his latest trick. Sometimes he can put his binky back. Sometimes I put his binky back. I'm really glad he can scream now. For months when he was angry, he could only manage a raspy dying man wheeze. It meant we could take him anywhere, but it also meant that at times people gave him strange stares.

Earlier I called his eye doctor and gave him the number of our pharmacy, so he can get different antibiotic eye ointment. His left eye's infected with staph due to a blocked tear duct, one of his more minor medical issues. He finally falls asleep and snores really loudly. Special K's at preschool, so I have some time to write.

Another exhausting chunk of time at the hospital

I dropped Special K off at L and S's house and spent another exhausting chunk of time at the hospital. It's amazing to me how draining it can be when on the surface it appears that I'm just sitting around and sometimes talking. However as with almost anything to do with Little T, it's not that simple. He had 2 apts today. The first was with GI (gastroenterology) and the second with Hematology. Poor Little T fell asleep every time we waited, but only once protested when he got woken up.

Little T fell asleep in the car on the way over. He got woken up to be weighed. But he didn't protest much. Well, no more than he usually does at being weighed. Perhaps he was stunned at his weight gain of 6.3 kg. I thought this couldn't be right. He weighed 5.9 last Tuesday, and a 400 g increase would be incredible for a baby whose greatest weekly weight gain had been 150g. And I was partially right. More on that later. Little T was also measured at 58.5cm. He's grown an entire cm in a month, which sadly is a great leap from zero growth last month. His head has grown from 43.4 to 45cm. His head's always grown from month to month, giving me hope that the steroids haven't completely ruined his brain. Keep up that head growth!

Then I met with a GI nurse practioner. She immediately asked for little T to be reweighed. His new weight was 6.25kg. He peed in his diaper in the five minutes since he was last weighed, so I suppose that accounts for the .05 kg difference. Then I had to recount his entire medical history concerning GI issues. He's had reflux since birth. It's sad to think that this was Special K's biggest medical issue as a baby and for Little T, it's an issue so minor that it's taken us 8 months and it getting worse for us to be able to deal with it.

Here's his GI background in not so medical terms. We put an NG tube down him 6 weeks ago due to poor weight gain. A week after the NG tube, he started vomiting after every feeding. Being the cheerful guy he is, he only fusses a little, then you can hear his stomach heave and the vomit projects outward. Then he often smiles. What a relief! He doesn't mind that his clothes are now drenched in vomit, but he's outraged that I change his outfit.

Unfortunately he also stopped eating and breastfeeding cold turkey. My hormones went crazy and I tried pumping for a while. The vomiting and lack of eating upsets C and me in a primal way. Baby vomit, no food, very bad, very bad. One day after Little T had vomited 3 times in a row and covered a sofa cushion in puke, I sobbed uncontrollably. I felt so helpless and stupid that I couldn't feed my own baby. I hadn't been so sad since his days in the hospital. His petechiae, nausea, puffy face and other horrible side effects are awful, but don't reduce me to tears. Every animal knows that vomiting is bad. I was convinced that he was losing weight, but it turned out that he was in fact gaining weight, slowly at first, but then 50-100g per week. So now we have a baby who gets all his nutrition via formula poured down a tube that goes through his nose into his stomach. And I struggled for two long months to breastfeed him.

The NP then immediately put my back up by suggesting he was "overfed". His weight to height ratio was in the 91st percentile and she said "he looks fat". I pointed out to her that his weight today was one data point in time. He's usually weighed on a different scale, different time of day, etc and this weight just didn't seem right. She reacted huffily that the scale had to be accurate. I didn't get into a debate about calibration and the differences in scales can be greater than Little T's small weight gain. I was sorely tempted.

Instead I moved on to the fact that Little T had just been taken off massive amounts of steroids last week. As you may know (though hopefully not from personal experience) steroids linger for a long time and steroids puff out your face. For months, Little T possessed the fattest little face, while his toothpick legs resembled a newborn's. It was painful sometimes, because people would remark how much he'd grow when it was only his face. I added that my daughter K would get pretty fat and then start growing.

And most importantly Little T only started gaining weight and growing after we started trying to give him 600 calories a day with the help of the NG tube. And trying means usually less than 600, but at least 500. The GI NP implied 600 calories might be too much. I said the nutrionist had said he needed at least 600 calories per day. The NP said the nutritionist might have made a mistake.

The official title of a nutritionist is registered dietician. To me, the word registered (except with the word nurse) conjures up a little accountant with a calculator. And indeed nutritionists calculate precisely how many calories you need based on weight, age and level of activity. Yes, of course it's based on assumptions, but isn't most human biology?

Months ago, Hematology had called in Grace the nutrionist. Grace calculated Little T needs 600 calories. PreNG tube, Little was primarily breastfeeding. Even so Grace noted the number of times he breastfed, calories per oz in breastmilk and how many oz the average baby breastfeed. And she gave me the number of calories per day he was eating. If I was an RD, I'd remember the precise number. What I do know is that it was 400 or so. I suppose showing a mother a number on a calculator is easier than saying "Your child isn't getting enough food from you." I was heartbroken. As I said before feeding is such a primal thing. So we struggled for over a month to get him to breastfeed more, eat more solids. He wouldn't. So we put down the NG tube. It was very difficult to have it go down and I cried about it.

Even now I wonder "Did I do the right thing?" And in my darkest moments I feel I made a horrible mistake. But then I repeat to myself this mantra: "Breastmilk is best. But getting enough food is even better."

Now this crazy woman was telling me he was overfed. I knew it was horribly wrong. I would not pull the NG tube. If you'd told me before Little T was born that I'd be fighting to keep a little tube that goes into his stomach in order to feed him formula, I'd said you were crazy. I felt crazy. I told her, I probably barked at her to go look at his medical records. The NP backed slowly out of the room and said she'd bring a nutritionist.

I calmed down by playing with Little T who laughed and smiled at me. I waited for 20 long minutes. As time passed I knew I had won. Then the attending doctor, the NP and another nutritionist walked in as a posse. Perhaps the NP had said I was "difficult." The nutritionist had her calculator. The attending discussed 4 different options including removing the tube, but said he wouldn't recommend it. I think removing the tube was mentioned to save face for the NP. The nutritionist said he needed 600-700 calories a day.

We talked more and decided that we'd increase the calories of his pumped night feeding to 400 calories and stop tube feeding Little T during the day to try to get him to eat again via mouth. Since he can only tolerate 40ml/hour on the pump and he sleeps about 10 hours at night, he can get a maximum of about 400ml. The current value of his formula was 24 cal/oz and we'd increase it to 26 cal/oz for 2-3 days and so on up to 30 cal/oz aka 1 cal/ml. Normal formula is 20cal/oz, so 30cal/oz must be very sludgy. In addition, we'd increase the amount of Prilosec he's getting. Then they'll see him again in 2-3 weeks to see how he was doing.

By this time I was pretty fried, so I had to ask a few times to get everything right. They gave a sheet for some blood test to look at his nutrition levels. I asked for an allergy test for milk since the increase of reflux also conincided with a huge increase in formula. The nutritionist and her calculator gave me precise numbers for exactly what Torin would need each night as we increased from 24 cal/oz to 30 cal/oz.

Then I walked across the street to Hematology. It was a little surreal. The waiting room wasn't crowded as usual with parents and grade school children. Instead five college teenagers sat there waiting for their friend Krista who had just been diagnosed with cancer. One kept repeating "It's weird weird weird." I kept agreeing in my mind, but not for the same reason. They said to each other how tired they were of waiting. I thought if only you knew how long I have sat here in this room waiting. Then they noticed Little T and oohed and ahhed over him. He soaked it all up and gave them big smiles.

Little T fell asleep. After the usual 20 minutes, M and a nurse in training came to draw his blood. I handed her the GI blood test sheet. She said she had to find the tubes for it. Wrong colour tube=wrong test. M and the training nurse pored over the book to find the tubes needed, then searched to find them. Another 20 minutes went by. Finally the training nurse drew what was a large amount of blood for a little guy. Little T smiled and laughed afterward.

Then I waited another 15 minutes for Little T's hematologist to arrive. I didn't mind, because she had kindly arranged to see him today instead of his usual time on Tuesday, so I didn't have to drive to the hospital twice in one week. She said his arm looked great. I told her about the 6.3 kg and she wanted to reweigh him.

Now Little T adores his hematologist. She can do anything to him and he'll smile. In fact he just smiled at her on the scale. A nurse commented that he usually screams on the scale. In fact this was the only time he's ever smiled on the scale. Weight of angel baby =6218.

His hematologist aka Little T's angel asked where Special K was. "With a friend" I replied. "She's easy to find babysitters for. It's Little T that's hard." She asked why. I said "I think people are afraid because of his medical issues." She very sweetly said she'd babysit if she wasn't working. Did I immediately gush and say "Thank you thank you!!! You're Little T's angel"? No, I was exhausted and said the first thing that came into my head "You're always working." a true, but poor response. She held Little T for a minute and oohed and ahhed over him. He gave her adoring smiles.

Then it was time to go home. Only 4 hours, so quick in hospital time. Little T and I got to sit in rush hour traffic. Fortunately Little T was exhausted and slept through it. I picked up Little K and talked to L a little bit about what happened. It was 6:45 by the time we got home. I had meant to get home earlier and bake the meatloaf for a hour. I put on the oven anyway. Then C came home and suggested we eat out and that's what we did.

Medical field guide

The Water owl is a rare strange bird, so I provide you with this field guide to the medical issues that form a background to her daily life. I hope this background makes things less confusing, but maybe not. Learning the habits of a new animal tends to be confusing for anyone. I chose thirteen questions, because it worked out that way and thirteen is my lucky number.

1. Why does Little T have a feeding tube?
   He doesn't eat enough on his own. The treatments from his vascular tumour messed up his eating. The tube allows us to pour liquid food aka formula down the tube into his stomach. At first he had an NG tube The tube went through the back of his throat down his esophagus and into his stomach. Now he has a Mic-key gastronomy tube that's a tube directly into his stomach. Click here for more details about his Mic-key



2. What is a vascular tumour? A vascular tumour is a proliferation of nonfunctional blood vessels. Picture if your blood vessels grew uncontrollably and formed tangled balls. Hemangiomas and vascular tumours are relatively common, but fortunately most are pretty benign medically. Unfortunately Little T's tumor got so large he developed Kasabach Merritt Syndrome(KMS) It's very rare like .1%. For most, KMS is the bogey man that doctors state is a risk like how they state there's a risk you could die during routine surgery.



3. What is Kasabach-Merritt Syndrome?
   Kasabach-Merritt Syndrome (KMS) is a very rare condition in which a hemangioma or vascular tumour gets so large and invasive that blood flows into the tumour and gets trapped there. Like cars stuck in a traffic jam, enormous amounts of platelets and fibrogen (blood clotting factors) are consumed. If untreated with blood transfusions, KMS kills. Sometimes patients don't make it anyway. C and I have read mortality rates anywhere from 10% to 37%.



4. What do you mean by giant? How big is his arm now?
   When Little T was born, the circumference of his left arm was 24 cm, or about the size of my arm and looked like a balloon. My brother said he looked like Popeye. Here's a photo. Now his arm has shrunk a lot and at its widest point is about 15cm. It's also much more differentiated like a proper arm.



5. What treatments made his arm shrink?
   In the NICU, he was on Interferon. It made him lethargic, and possibly depressed. It killed his appetite. After his relapse of KMS in January, he was put on Vincristine, a type of chemo instead. It caused neuropathy (temporary partial paralysis) of his legs and vocal cords. Vincristine made him feel nauseated and gave him reflux. It also made him lose his hair. Both times he also took massive amounts of Prednisolone, a type of steroid. When he was on Prednisolone, he ate about 3/4 of his recommended daily calories, according to his nutritionist but the steroids retarded his growth. When he was taken off the steroids, he started eating even less, because the steroid stimulated his appetite.
   
   
6. Why was Little T on chemo? Did he have cancer?
   Well, that depends on how you classify cancer. By the strict medical definition, no, he doesn't have cancer. However if you consider cancer to be an invasive tumour that is lethal if untreated and therefore you must attack the tumour with harmful methods like chemo and massive amounts of steroids, then yes he does. And we're actually part of an Children's Oncology support group. We went there at first, because there was nowhere else to go. We wondered if we belonged there, but as we told our story, all the other parents there had had similar experiences. It was incredibly sad and comforting at the same time.



7. Can his tumour regrow?
   Unfortunately it can and has. His hematologists thought that it wouldn't and he had his Broviac (central IV line) removed in December. Unfortunately it regrew in January and he had a reoccurrence of KMS and was hospitalised.



8. Does it hurt?
   Well, the doctors tell us that the tumour itself doesn't hurt. However the tumour compresses the surrounding tissue and nerves and causes Compartment Syndrome. The massive swelling from his tumour cuts off sensation and ironically blood flow to his lower arm and fingers. At first he didn't move his arm or fingers at all. Now he moves his fingers somewhat and shrugs his shoulders. So the process of growing doesn't appear to hurt, but the process of shrinking does, perhaps because circulation and sensation return to his arm.



9. What's the long-term future for his arm?
   No-one really knows. We're hoping he'll be able to use his arm. Right now he's rather lopsided, and he just learned to roll over at 10 months, because his left arm is so heavy and non-functional. We're hoping that through physical and occupational therapy, he'll be able to regain strength enough to crawl and eventually walk.



10. How many times has he been hospitalized?
    
    1. NICU - Birth to 6 weeks old for KMS
    2. December 2004 (5 days) for a urinary tract infection caused by being without liquid because he had an operation to get his Broviac removed. He had another Broviac installed after his relapse in January.
    3. January 2005 (10 days) for a reoccurence of KMS
    4. February 2005 (7 days) for RSV a few days after he was released from the hospital, so he probably caught it from the hospital.
    5. June 2005 (7 days) for line sepsis. His Broviac got infected.
    6. July 2005 (48 hours) recovery from G-tube surgery



11. You mention you have a movement disorder. What is it?
    I have Myoclonic dystonia a very peculiar rare neurological disorder that affects fine movement. Neurologists get excited when they see me, because it's so rare. Basically my head or arms or hands will randomly jerk when I perform small activity. It appears to be nonprogressive and in my case, it also only affects my upper body. Myoclonic dystonia is thought to be caused by a defect in the basal ganglia. The analogy that works best for computer geeks is that I have line noise in my basal ganglia that causes me to jerk. I agree with this theory, because it does seem to take me longer to learn fine motor activities. But once I've learned them, I do just fine, except for the random jerking.



12. What's the basal ganglia and what does it do?
    The basal ganglia help the brain perform more complex tasks. For example, after you've learned how to write or type, you don't consciously think about how your hand moves, you just think I want to write or type a particular word. Your basal ganglia helps you coordinate all the complex movements needed to perform these actions. Remember how when you first learned how to write or type, you had to think about everything and it was very slow at first. Well that was because you didn't have the proper neural pathways in your basal ganglia yet.



13. Is your medical condition related to your son's?
    I'm told they're not related as they affect two entirely different systems. However I think the answer is that no-one knows the true cause of either condition, so it's impossible to know with current medical information and technology.

Little T's coming home!!

We're very excited because Little T's most likely coming home on Friday!!!! Well, as long as his blood pressure stays low enough. He's going to continue to need medical care at home. We're going to take care of his Broviac, give him 5 different medications at home, wrap and unwrap the bandage on his arm and give him massage and range-of-motion exercises. He will also get his blood tested twice a week at the Hematology clinic and will continue to receive transfusions as needed on an out-patient basis. He's down to about 1 transfusion twice a week now.

With all the medical care he needs, we're also scared. C is most scared about his Broviac, because it's a central line down to his heart and he has to open it every day and flush Heparin down it. I'm more scared about how I'm going to take care of him with all he needs and Special K. He's going to have a lot of doctors' appointments and physical therapy. Right now he gets fed every 2 hours 24 hours a day due to his reflux and nausea.

Special K burst into tears when we told her Little T was coming home, and expresses unhappiness whenever his homecoming is mentioned. OTOH at home, she'll finally get to do all the things we told her a big sister can do, like hold her baby brother, dress him and give him a bottle. I'm also scared that something will happen, and he'll have to go back to the hospital again. I know it'll all be okay in the end, and somehow we'll manage, but right now we're anticipating and waiting, and we don't yet have the joy of having him home.

So having said how much work he is, let me tell you some great things about my little boy. He's almost 6 weeks old and already is his own little man. He's very strong in spirit and body. His heart has always handled the big extra load that his condition and all the transfusions put on him. So he must have a big heart. He has a tough grip and good head control for a baby of his age. He's usually very calm, and gazes at you intently in a way several nurses have said is "very engaging." Few things bother him and he gets a lot of unpleasant stuff done to him. For example, he doesn't cry if he gets his Interferon shot and sleeps through it if he's asleep. But if he has a dirty diaper, or is hungry, you get about 30 seconds to fix it before he starts crying loudly. My friend Jenny gave me his horoscope today and according to that, he's a Virgo, so perfection is important to him.

So that's my update, which I know is briefer than usual, but we still have a lot of little errands to do before he gets home and I have to go pump now.

Flu shot shortage

You know in any other year, the flu shot shortage wouldn’t bother me much. I mean sure, it’s nasty to get the flu, but I’d just hope for the best. Unfortunately this is very bad timing for us. The drugs that Little T needs to take suppress his immune system. In addition he’s still pretty fragile and of course he’s too young to get the flu shot anyway. So C K and I all need to get the flu shot. And our medical group had ordered flu shots from Chiron and now they have none and are scrambling to get shots from other places. We went to a flu clinic at Safeway last week and it was crazy. They had 200 flu shots and there were over 300 people there in a long long line that snaked around the the frozen foods aisle, the bakery and deli. A lot of elderly people who could barely stand, let alone wait in a line for hours were sitting on upside-down crates that the manager had brought out for them. I heard on the news that a lady died from waiting in line to get the flu shot.

NICU Update on Little T

Little T continues to improve slowly. His arm is now down to 17cm. And on Thursday to Sunday he went for almost 3 days without needing any blood transfusions!! Hooray!! They've also reduced his CBC blood tests to once a day. He still has a ways to go before he can go home. For one thing he receives 7 different medications around the clock, and 3 more as needed, and some of them like the steroids require a weaning process. But at least now we can see the light at the end of the tunnel.

His arm is wrapped for four hours and unwrapped for 1 hour.

And now that he's more stable, we have a more normal issue to work on. Little T is a very poor eater. Every three hours, he's supposed to eat 70ml (2.33 oz) of breast milk heavily fortified with formula powder, because he gets a lot of fluid from his transfusions and medications. However he only drinks about 30ml (1oz) from a bottle on average and at most about 60ml. So he gets a lot of it down his feeding tube.

He's usually very mellow and content, but he has a short fuse when it comes to eating. You get about a minute to feed him and then he starts screaming very loudly.

His newest neonatologist who just came on today wants to start him with on demand feeding with a minimum of 280ml per shift (12 hours) with no feeding tube. I agree in principle, but I'm nervous about it. This boy is skinny! Not skinny like Special K. I mean really skinny. His right arm is bandy with no fat and his back is wrinkly because it has no fat. He has a slight double chin and his belly is round, but half the time it's from gas. I know they won't let him starve, but still I worry.

On Wednesday I finally got to breastfeed him again and he finally calmed down and did well. On Friday night I discovered that he had given me thrush. Ouch! So we've stopped breastfeeding until it gets better. Thrush also has made my supply go down. I hope it goes up again once I get better!!

Little T gets a night primary nurse

C went to the NICU with my brother. Little T's night nurse who had been looking after him for 5 nights in a row said she wanted to be his primary nurse, because "he's so engaging when he's awake." That means a lot, because even though of course all the babies there require around the clock care, Torin requires a lot more hands-on nursing than the average baby there. Most of the babies who are there long enough to get a primary nurse, are frankly too premature to protest much at anything. They get 1 or 2 medications and don't have this arm that has to be wrapped and unwrapped. He's also a month old now and has gas or colic or whatever it is that makes babies extremely fussy at times. They can and do give him Ativan if they can't console him, but they do seem to try to comfort him first.

Clarity goes home from the NICU

Clarity the baby who's been across from Little T his whole stay finally went home. She's almost 3 months old and has been in the NICU pretty much since birth. She got transferred to Stanford the same day he was born. I was really happy for them, but also really jealous. Maybe that's why Little T had a hard time breastfeeding that day. We also learned something from them. Clarity was ready to go home early last week, but her family couldn't take her home. The hospital wouldn't release her without nursing care at night and at first the insurance company refused to provide it. I expect we'll face something similar, because Little T will probably require a lot of physical therapy for his arm and our HMO has a limit of 60 days after injury.

Little T's first breastfeed

Little T really breastfed for the first time. He drained my breast! I've only fed him on one side so far due to his arm. Before then he'd just take a few sips and then stop. Then on Monday he wouldn't nurse at all, just screamed and screamed. Finally I gave him a pacifier and he promptly fell sound asleep. I felt weird and sad that he preferred a pacifier over me, but that's what he's used to right now. And on Tuesday the nurse didn't read his feeding plan that said I come in at 10:30 to breastfed him and fed him at 9:30 so he was too full to try and breastfeed. ARgh! But he also drained his bottle, which he hasn't done since he went on Interferon! Hooray!

Entry from my live journal

Well, it's not the new year by Western standards, but it is by many Pagan standards, because we just had the shortest day of the year. So the days will get longer and longer until the wheel of the year turns again.

Last night I went to Mary Anne's lovely cookbook party and she asked me if I was writing. C asks me this all the time. And I had to say no, not really, but I felt more sheepish with her. So I started to tell her what little I had been doing. And then my main reason to myself for not writing ran off and so I chased after her. And then I talked more about motherhood and not writing. And Mary Anne said that now she'd decided not to be a mother, she felt this pressure to be a better writer, because she couldn't say to herself well I'll always be a good mother.

And at the same time at this party, I received lots of validation that I was at least for those few hours a good mother, because Special K was at her most mellow and charming. She talked a lot for the first time to a bunch of people she didn't know, even saying her first 3 syllable word, octopus. Usually in front of strangers, she confines herself to a few monosyllables and I look like an idiot for saying she talks a lot, which she does when we're alone. She stayed up for hours past her bedtime and was clearly tired, but enjoying having her proper place as the centre of the universe confirmed. Today she's tired and somewhat fractious, and she cried because Daddy went away while I held her. But I still remember last night.

And as I snuggled in bed with her this morning. I realised that while I have my doubts about my ability to raise another human being to adulthood without damaging them too much in the process, I think every mother does and on the whole I feel good about it. And it's when I do feel good about myself that Special K is at her best.

Aloha!

'm back from Hawaii. We had a FABULOUS time!!!!! Special K was pretty good on both flights, even though the one coming back was a red-eye. She enjoys sleeping on us, but next time we'll definitely get her a seat. The airplanes were very crowded.

Highlights of our trip included:

K watching the waves crashing in and clapping for really big ones.

Swimming with Special K in the ocean

Snorkeling and see tons of fish. It was like swimming in a living tropical aquarium.

Watching a green turtle swim in the water.

Hiking almost to see live lava flowing. We turned back when we met a ranger who was supposed to be at the lava flow. She had a gas mask, but was walking back because the air quality was too poor.

Listening to Hawaiian music on the radio while driving. K was screaming in the back but after a few minutes, fell asleep.

It's great to be back home.

Woo hoo! I'm amazed! Sometimes democracy really does work!!

For the first time in my life, I put a sign on my lawn endorsing a candidate. It was for City Council. He actually came to my door and talked to me and DH. He was canvassing our town on his bike. He seemed really well-informed, earnest and had some great ideas. But I didn't think he'd win, because he's new, definitely not part of the party machine, and he wouldn't accept contributions of over $100. But he actually got elected! I'm so excited!

Evening out

Saturday came, the evening when Castor and I went out for a whole evening sans Special K for dinner and the opera Abduction from the Seraglio. I tried to stay positive about it and push away the guilt and fear. I talked to Special K again that day. She seemed to listen. I gave her a goodbye breastfeed just before we left which seemed to make her happy. Though when Robin the babysitter arrived, SK protested a little when placed in her arms, but Robin allowed her to stand on her lap. We left and SK watched us go with a somber expression. We met my dad at a Cuban restaurant and went to the opera. I tried and mostly succeeded not to worry about SK. We had a lovely time.

We arrived home after 7 hours to a silent house. Silence is bliss in this case. Robin said SK only cried a little. SK believes in laughing and crying before bedtime, so this is normal. Robin looked calm and content. I was amazed and very relieved. I feel a great burden has been lifted from me. It's funny how little things like this can mean so much.

First Halloween as a mother

I had my first Halloween as a mother and it encapsulated the highs and lows of being a mother. We (K dressed as a pumpkin and I dressed as a witch) went to the local Senior Center at lunchtime to hand out candy. After a while, K woke up enough to be charming and smiling to one and all. We had a lovely time.

Then I locked Special K in the car with the windows closed. I have a black interior car and it was 68 degrees outside. I've never felt so stupid in my entire life. I have VW roadside assistance, but the number and everything else was locked in my car. Fortunately another mother happened to have a Passat so I got the number. I made the call, explained the situation and was told they'd come in 20 minutes. They said to call 911 if I needed to.

K was a bit perplexed and restless, but okay for all but the last few minutes. Just as she was sliding into full meltdown mode, the tow truck arrived. Perhaps knowing she was about to rescued and soothed by the rumble of the tow truck's engine, Special K fell asleep. The driver mumbled about not being able to break into Passats, while I said a silent prayer to Freya. And after a few agonising moments he jimmied the lock, setting off the car alarm. Special K started screaming and I took her out of the dreaded car seat. A few minutes later, Special K was smiling again.

C has been sick since Labour Day and I'm going insane.

C pushed himself hard at work to meet a deadline and afterwards he got sick. He finally went to the doctor on Tuesday and got some antibiotics. Every time he starts to get better. He has a relapse and gets worse again. I don't know how mothers with two kids do it. Normally I don't feel C is a kid, but right now I do. I have to keep making him go to bed.

I'm going insane. Special K is teething which makes her very fussy and demanding. Yesterday I got a plugged duct and it was sooo painful!! I soaked it in warm salt water and had Special K breastfeed from it a lot and it was feeling better. But then last night while breasfeeding, she started fussing a lot and thrashing around, and kicked and hit my very sore boob. I started crying because it hurt so bad. Then C got all grumpy about it, because he was trying to sleep.

Normally I go talk to my mama, but she's out of the country and not reachable.