Snapshots of a three-year-old

I just realized we've hardly taken any pictures of Amelia since she turned three! I am going to try to take some today.

We're very busy these days. Also, I have become better at living in the moment. This results in more peace overall but also a dirty house and an un-updated blog. I almost decided to shut this whole blog down, replacing it with a photo website of some kind. There are a few other writing projects I have been trying to focus on, and I felt bad about how little I write here.

But I decided not to. For one thing, as much as I admire people who record a sentence a day or a photo of their child a day,  this is the only place I have consistently recorded Amelia's life. It would be sad to end it.

Plus, in retrospect, I suppose the silence will be telling. There is a book I found in a used bookstore in DC (Amelia in her Ergo carrier) called "The Seven Stages of Motherhood." I like its personal stories and the way it presents motherhood as a knowable path. The chapter on mothering a preschooler (age 3-5) is called "Trying to Do It All."

That sums things up pretty well. Since Amelia started school, I have had more time to fill, and sometimes I try to fill it with EVERYTHING: cleaning, cooking, yoga, writing, shopping, errands. Yet Amelia is only in school a few days a week, and I also started a teaching job. (!) I haven't written about it here, but it started back in the fall. Officially, I am a "Young Writers Outreach Instructor" for Denver's Lighthouse Writers. It's an amazing job--basically I am a visiting writer going into schools to teach craft--and it fell into my lap with absolutely no work on my part (other than the fact that I joined Lighthouse Writers, the best writers' group ever). I took a session teaching 9th and 10th graders for 3 days a week in the fall, and then took another 7-week session of pretty much the same gig. I also taught a 6-week course back in the spring and worked for a week at their Summer Writing Camp. I love being a "writer in the schools"--it has been a dream of mine to teach writing as a visiting writer since I was a high school teacher. I love the job.

At the same time, the job has created some stress. For one thing, the teaching ends midday, around the time the half day program for Amelia's school ends. Amelia's teacher said I could pick her up late, but in the meantime, Amelia began--drumroll--NAPPING AT SCHOOL. So I usually pick her up around 2 or 3, after the kids wake up, have a snack, and go outside to play. It's cute to come pick her up and see "all the friends" in their coats and hats and sunglasses (required) playing. One day they were barking like puppies and I could hear them a block away. Still, it's more school than I had planned for Amelia this year.

Also, teaching always ends up taking time away from writing. During my first fall teaching session, I hardly wrote my own stuff at all. For this second session, I started out with a stricter schedule for myself, and I was doing well with it--for one week. The second week of the session, Amelia got the flu (EVEN THOUGH SHE GOT A FLU SHOT). So I stayed home to be with her. I am very thankful I have the kind of life that allows me to stop everything to be with my baby when she needs me, so this is not meant to be a complaint, but it does seem like every time I get on a roll with writing, something happens--we go on a trip, someone gets sick, etc.

On the other hand, after three years of motherhood, I've learned that "all things pass." So I will get back on the roll again soon. This week, I am just glad for a healthy child. And the fact that I don't have the flu.

Anyway, here are some "snaphots" of our three-year-old. Real snapshots to come later today!

Amelia visits Santa: She was annoyed that she had to wait in line. She was the only kid not dressed up in fancy Christmas clothes. Between kids, the elves furtively shielded Santa while he used hand sanitizer. When it was her turn, Amelia said she was "nervous" and I told her she didn't have to see Santa, but she bolstered her courage, sat in his lap, and asked for a robot. He kept prompting her "what else?," which I thought was unnecessary. Just a robot, Santa!

Amelia and the "scary room:" A couple of weeks ago, I woke up around 11 pm to Amelia calling me into her room. She said "something's scary!" and pointed vaguely to the corner of her room. I held her hand while she fell asleep again, but she woke up 3 more times that night. According to The Happiest Toddler on the Block, a book I cannot recommend enough, it's normal for kids develop fears around this age. Using the ideas in the book, I rallied the next day, and we rearranged Amelia's room. It did sort of look scary in the corner: the combination of the nightlight in the corner plus a bookshelf that has a tree branch on it made strange shadows, plus we had her humidifier over there, emitting a spooky mist. So I moved all that around and put her night light right beside her bed. Also, we gave her a flashlight and made some special spray (water and lavender oil) to spray at scary things. And, we remover her bed rail and told her she could get out of bed and turn on her light if she wanted to see her room.

This marks the major parenting victory of my life so far: all this worked! Amelia loved having her night light closer, being a "big girl" with no bed rail, and getting out of bed to turn on her light. The first night at bedtime, we heard her light turn on and off about 10 times. In the meantime, to tempt her back into her own bed after 4-5 days of sleeping with Mama while being sick, we put Christmas lights up beside her bed. The first night those were up, she played in her bed for over an hour and a half before finally dropping off to sleep.

What else? I can't think of the other stories I wanted to tell, so here are a few fun facts. Amelia can spell her name and I think she can spell "Daddy" (she and Dean play with foam bathtub letters in the bath a lot). She can count up to 30 or so sometimes--I have heard her do it, but other times she refuses or does it wrong as a joke. She knows the sounds for most of the letters (I made up a song with letter sounds one day in desperation, trying to lull her to sleep, and it took). She loves the "Jennifer stories" I tell her sometimes to distract her while brushing her hair or the like--Jennifer is a girl just Amelia's age, again made up by me in desperation one day--I was trying to use Jennifer as an example of something, like a little story with a moral--"Jennifer didn't want her Mama to brush her hair, but her hair got so tangled she had to cut it all off!" But it turns out Amelia LOVES stories where Jennifer is "naughty:" Jennifer squeezes all of toothpaste out of the tube, refuses to share with her baby brother, dumps her food on the floor, much to Amelia's delight. I am not sure what this means, but in any case, Amelia loves stories and songs. She sometimes even makes up her own stories and songs, something I should try harder to get on tape.

I am sure there is a lot I am missing, but that's a peek into life here lately. Check back later for some real "snapshots" of Amelia!

This Is Your Brain on Toddlerhood

There have been a couple of times in Amelia's life that I have felt I could almost see her brain developing. The past week or two has been one of those times. From the moment she wakes up, she goes a mile a minute, talking, playing, reading, singing, moving toys and pens and buttons and who knows what all to the places they clearly need to be, and generally directing things around the house.

Her language development has been the most obvious--when she isn't cruise directing, she has been stating or describing what she is doing or what is happening around her in alarmingly complex sentences. I have been calling her "the narrator." When you go in her bedroom to get her when she wakes up, she will inform you "Mia sanding in her cib." In fact, now she might also say "I sanding in my cib"--she is getting more and more pronouns right. She says things like "Mia go with Daddy to pick tomatoes," or last night at dinner when she happened to glance up and out the window, "I'm looking out the window." Sometimes when she speaks she falls into a kind of "uh, uh, uh" noise and you can tell the wheels are turning in her mind as she looks for the right word or maybe the sentence structure, but more and more she just talks. She talks all day long. And she still prefers that you repeat back what she says. I don't miss not the quiet, exactly, but our days our... full.

Another reason our days are full, and this is perhaps related to the brain development spurt, is that Amelia's naps have suddenly and substantially shortened themselves. She was napping from around 12-2, and now she doesn't seem ready to go down for a nap till 1 or 1:30, if then. Then, she naps for about 45 minutes. She has a hard time settling down, and when she wakes up, after a period of initial fussiness, she is ready to go for the afternoon. She has been sleeping at night, though, for 11-12 hour stretches, from 7:30 or 8 to around 7 in the morning, so I am thinking since she is sleeping so long at night she just doesn't need a long nap. It's not the best news for me, break-wise, but it's not terrible. I am trying to take advantage of being able to have longer morning outings, and drastically decrease the number of things I try to do during her nap. (In fact, one of the things I have been doing during her nap is sitting down and watching "Friends," which conveniently reruns every day at 2:00.) Since I have less time during the day and more time during the mornings, I have been trying to get up a little earlier and enjoy the quiet. The early mornings have always been the best poem-writing times for me anyway, so maybe this is a good development for me, writing-wise.

Another note about toddlerhood--Amelia has had some real live tantrums lately. These are sometimes times when she is tired or maybe related to not feeling well, with the cold, for example, or last week she also tested positive for strep--one of the best tips I got about toddler behavior is that when they are acting SUPER terrible, they are probably sick. But there have been a couple of tantrums that seem mostly just about Amelia not getting what she wants, which I suppose is normal for almost two. Last week, we stopped by the "dinosaur bone museum" to play for awhile, and when we were leaving, not feeling well myself, I forgot to do my usual "in a few minutes, we have to say bye-bye to the museum" thing to prep Amelia for our departure (which usually works really well). We were walking toward the door, and Amelia seemed to realize we were leaving, and she just lost it. She was crouching and clenching her fists and screaming "dinosaur bones!" She was in fact standing directly underneath dinosaur bones, but no attempt of mine to point that out to her, or to calm her down in any way other way, worked, so I finally had to pick her up and carry her screaming to the car. She cried most of the 20-minute drive home, and what finally made her stop was a tip I read in The Happiest Toddler on the Block: "gossip." The author recommends that you "gossip" with your toddler's stuffed animals (or other family members, if they are around), both to discuss bad behavior and praise good behavior. The idea is that toddlers like to overhear stuff and sometimes you can get more across if they think you are not talking to them. So I talked to Elmo, who Amelia had carried around the museum all morning. "Hey Elmo! Listen! Amelia had a tantrum at the museum, and Amelia is so angry! Amelia wanted to stay at the dinosaur bones! But Momma doesn't understand tantrums. Momma understands big girl words! And Amelia is so good at big girl words!" And etc. Every time Amelia would start crying again I would say "Hey, Elmo! Listen!" And she would listen. By the time we got home, she was calm. I had asked Elmo if he thought Amelia would rather play with buttons or bracelets when she got home, and as we pulled into the garage, I heard a tiny, tired voice: "buttons."

We played with buttons, then had lunch. Toddlers are tiring. Lovable, but tiring.

The interesting thing is that Amelia still remembers this vividly. "Mia cied at the dinosaur bones. Elmo had to listen! Momma doesn't unersand tanums."

On a side note, with all these sicknesses and tantrums, sometimes I really miss breastfeeding. I just know it would calm her down so easily. I can pick Amelia up and snuggle her, and carry her around, and goodness knows I do, but it's not the same. Just saying, for the record: I don't regret weaning when we did, but I do miss the closeness, the calming nature of breastfeeding.

What else? We went to the zoo, and it was one of the first times Amelia was actually excited about the animals. She liked the elephants and hippos the best



and enjoyed peering over the wall at "Monkey Island."



She also fed some lorakeets



and rode the train with her friend Pigit,



and on another visit to the zoo with (L)u(l)i, she rode the merry-go-round.





We canceled a camping trip we had planned for this weekend because we all got colds, but we did go to a baseball game Sunday afternoon. The Rockies have a section called "The Rockpile" that features $4.50 bleacher seats, a good price for people who might only last a few innings. This was our view from our seats



and Amelia and Dean watching the game.



We had a good time--the day worked out well, since Amelia napped early and the sun went behind the clouds just time for the game. Amelia liked watching the people and even some of the game ("That man running!") She danced when music played and clapped when the other fans clapped, and the enjoyed her first experience with Dippin' Dots (which cost the same price as our seats). We lasted until about the 6th inning.

Our garden is thriving in the summer heat. We have piles of tomatoes, squash and zucchini, so much that I have just been planning our meals about what could include those things. We have a good amount of peppers, tomatillos, and cucumbers, too, and just picked some very pretty tri-color corn. This is our garden a couple of weeks ago; things are even taller and bushier now.





Finally, we are battling out an attempt to grow out Amelia's bangs. I really want to grow them out, since they grow fast and they are hard to trim, and our favorite hairdresser lives really far away. But Amelia is not a fan of hairclips ("Cips out!) so she looks pretty shaggy a lot of the time. Here is a picture of her with cips, just to prove she doesn't always look like a sheep dog.



We had some success with using a rubber band for a "ponytail" yesterday, and I made a big deal about how "now you can see!" So we'll see.

Hurricane

It has been quite a morning. Amelia woke up too early and has been a grouch. Plus she has played with Crispix, Play Dough, all of her toys, and helped me unpack groceries, an activity that entailed pulling everything out of the both the freezer and one cabinet, sampling several of the new items (grapes, cheese, oranges), and taking at least three breaks to read stories.

This is what my house looks like.







Is it just me? Do other people have days like these? Sometimes I wonder what I am doing wrong.

Speaking of weathering storms, we have all survived Amelia's first post-hospital sickness. She got a fever Thursday, first one so low I assumed it was teething and forgot about it, but later in the afternoon, it was around 102. She had no other symptoms so of course I immediately assumed she was at the beginning of another terrible illness. To make a long story short--really, I don't want to relive all the worry--I took her to the doctor Friday. Her doctor, who was never as convinced as the surgeons that Amelia's earlier problems originated with her appendix, drew blood. She wanted to be sure there was not some weird bacterial infection going on. After 4 tense hours waiting for the results, we got them: virus, possible mono. Amelia has had maybe one mild cold all winter, but she is certainly getting her share of Diseases You Didn't Think Toddlers Can Get. However, her pediatrician said that most 5-year-olds have antibodies for mono, meaning they already had it as babies or toddlers but it was never diagnosed. Apparently in younger kids mono passes quickly and is not nearly the problem it is in teens and adults. You can read more about that here. Anyway, they wouldn't know for sure it was mono with more tests, which the doctor said wasn't worth it. Whatever it was, Amelia's fever went away yesterday morning and she seems fine now.

I guess I should spend the rest of her naptime cleaning the house.

Hospital Story, Part 2

So Dean and I left Amelia with the surgeons. We walked back up to our room where Dean's parents were waiting with dinner. It was hard to leave Amelia and I was scared but I also knew that she definitely was not going to get better without surgery. And we felt very good about the care she was getting at The Children's Hospital.

On yet another side note I want to say how amazing this hospital is. You should take some time to look at their virtual tour. It is a beautiful place and remarkably cheerful considering the fact that it is filled with sick kids. Every detail seems designed to engage children. It is filled with toys and sculptures and aquariums to play with and look at. Even the floors are beautiful--the main lobby floor is a collage of colorful birds and butterflies, and the floors in the elevator are studded with beads and glittery squiggles. And they have all these little red wagons for the kids to ride around in. There are playrooms and a library. There is a free daycare for siblings. There is a fabulous omelet bar in the cafeteria, and they make great pancakes too.

We had left Amelia for surgery at 6:20 PM, and the nurse said she would give us a call at 7:30 to let us know how things were going. As 7:30 approached and then passed, I got that nervous, faint-y feeling again. On the one hand, as I mentioned before, hospital time is not like real time. On the other hand, she had said "at" 7:30, not "around" or "close to" or something like that. She had said she would call us on the surgery waiting room phone if she couldn't reach Dean's cell, so I left Dean and his parents in the room and went back down to the waiting room. Then I was even more nervous there, so I called Luli and the nurse had just called Dean. When I got back up Dean relayed the nurse's report that Dr. Bruny had done everything she wanted to do, and we could meet the surgeons down in the waiting room in about twenty minutes.

So we went down and waited. When Dr. Bruny came out she said the surgery had gone well. Amelia's bowels had kind of rearranged themselves to block in her abscess so they were able to find and clean out the infection pretty easily, and they found and removed her appendix too. The only strange thing was that her appendix did not actually look perforated (aka burst). So they were not sure, if the appendix was in good shape, what would have caused the infection. But the doctor didn't seem concerned about it. I, however, immediately wondered if there was some sort of mystery disease Amelia could have that caused random weird infection in her body. But the doctor, again, didn't seem concerned. She said sometimes the appendix is perforated and you just can't see it, and sometimes you just never know what caused the problem.

I am going to fast forward here and say that we still really don't know what caused all this. Dr. Staetz told us that the germ that caused the abscess was a strep germ that usually abscesses in the brain, but the a surgeon told us it lived in the gut. (In any case it was not the same as the strep throat I was to get the following day.) The pathology report on Amelia's appendix showed that everything was consistent with appendicitis, although the pathologists did not see a perforation either. Picture a team of surgeons shrugging their shoulders here. Anyway, they fixed it.

So. Amelia was out of surgery and on morphine for pain and some other meds (an antibiotic, an anti-nausea drug, and maybe one more). The next day she mostly slept and was still very out of it. We were waiting and hoping for her to talk. But she still had this NG tube in (it goes from nose to belly and releases fluid and gas from the stomach), and she had to have these long braces on her arms so she wouldn't pull it out, so overall it was best that she was kind of in a morphine haze. The following day, Friday, I woke up feeling terrible, even for someone who had slept maybe 7 hours in the last 3 days. My throat was killing me and I thought I was going to collapse. The nurse checked my temperature and I had a fever, so Jim drove me home to rest for awhile. We got back to the hospital around 5 PM, and honestly I don't remember Amelia's state exactly. I know had already removed the NG tube and that we were waiting for her to start passing gas to relieve her swollen belly so they would not have to put the tube back in. I think sometime that day she started saying a few words and saying her animal sounds. Overall she was improving and already in much better shape.

Friday night was fairly peaceful for Amelia but horrible for me because of my sore throat. An angelic nurse gave me her own personal numbing cough drops, which go me through the night. First thing Saturday morning I drove to a nearby Urgent Care center and got a strep test, which was positive, so I got some penicillin. After I got that in my system, I started feeling better pretty quickly. However we were still worried about Amelia's distended belly. The doctors were saying that if she didn't start passing gas soon they would have to put back in the NG tube. Since Amelia was very aware of what was going on at this point, we all really wanted to avoid that. It would have made her totally miserable. She can't stand it when something is touching her face or stuck to her hands. She doesn't even like to wear a hat. So a tube taped to her face and itching her throat and nose would have been quite a trial. Plus putting the thing in is no picnic and having witnessed it once I was planning on being very vocal about not wanting the tube unless it was totally dire. Luckily, Amelia gradually got gassy. We were infinitely relieved.

Sunday was a day of waiting for poop. She was allowed to breastfeed again, and she was very happy about that. (I had requested a hospital pump and was pumping for maybe 5 minutes a night. I was too tired to do any more. Honestly I had come to terms with the idea that this might be the end of breastfeeding, but it all worked out okay.) Once Amelia had some milk, she started having more bowel sounds and finally some poop. Monday she ate some solid foods--Cheerios, rice and noodles Luli made and brought, some crackers. We had high hopes for going home on Tuesday. However, it was not to be. A blood test Tuesday morning showed that Amelia's white blood cell count was still slightly too high for the doctors' comfort. Dean and I were very frustrated because they told us that to go home, Amelia needed to be eating and pooping, and she was doing that. After several conversations with the surgeons we got the message that their decision might have more to do with medical liability than Amelia herself. Dean and I were frustrated because not only were we both tired of living in the hospital, we could tell that Amelia was just getting worn out. It was very hard for her to get much rest with nurses and doctors and who knows who else coming in and out of her room all the time. She looked exhausted and when we brought her back to our floor from a wagon ride, she would whimper when she saw where we were. And at lunch, when Amelia was sitting in my lap holding chicken finger in one hand and a cheese quesadilla in the other, it seemed plain silly to be in the hospital. But we made ourselves get over the frustration and tell ourselves that if out biggest problem with Amelia's doctors was that they were too careful, we were in good shape. (It turns out you can be frustrated and grateful at the same time. It was a spiritually interesting moment for me to realize that.)

Tuesday night was happy in that we had high hopes for getting out of the hospital the next day, and I even had hopes for a good night because the doctors had agreed that Amelia did not have to have her vitals checked while she was sleeping. Dean brought Thai food and the gratefulness in us had overcome the frustration. I have always tried to be grateful about Amelia's health, reminding myself when I am tired or frustrated how lucky I am to have a healthy baby. But I don't think I ever really appreciated it until we went through this. The truth is that what we went through, while obviously stressful, is nothing compared to what so many of the kids and parents in that hospital were and are going through. What was wrong with Amelia was not chronic and it is fixable. It is fixed. We are so grateful that she does not have cancer or a million other things that she just as easily could have. I still am thinking about those parents and kids many times a day, wishing them peace and strength. We are so, so lucky.

And I also want to thank everyone out there who sent us thoughts of healing and of love, who prayed for Amelia, who offered to help us with anything we needed, who called and texted and brought food and magazines and sent Amelia toys and crayons and balloons and cards. Each of those things really was so helpful. I knew I had good friends in Denver, but I didn't know how good they were until this! And we were especially lucky to have Dean's parents around. It will not go down as their best vacation ever, but their presence made it so much easier for Dean and me to get through the week. And even with so many of our friends and family members so far away, it was so helpful for me just to know how many people were thinking about Amelia, sending her support.

Wednesday morning, I woke up to a surgeon entering the room. He walked over to my air mattress and said, "Do you feel like going home today?"

Yes! And, although I was prepared to wait around most of the day for the discharge ball to get rolling, we ended up getting out of there pretty quickly because the hospital was totally full and they needed our room. Amelia got her last tube removed (note to surgeon: quietly singing "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star" while removing a main line from a screaming child is more sinister than comforting) and we got our instructions and off we went.

So we have been home two nights now. Amelia is getting better and better. She was wary at first, kind of looking around wondering where we had been for so long. You can tell her incision hurts when she squats down and tries to stand back up, and she is definitely not as agile or quick as she was before the surgery, but she already moving more and seems to be in less pain. Also, she is still a little overly poopy from her antibiotics. However, I just talked to a nurse and she said the poop sounds like a normal side effect. So I think we are in good shape.

I am very glad to have told this story and put it behind us. Look for some Amelia pictures to be posted soon--live from Denver, now appendix-free.

Hospital Story, Part One

As you may or may not know, Amelia was in the hospital from Tuesday, February 15, through yesterday (Wednesday, February 23). A lot of friends and family have gotten the story in bits and pieces through texts and interrupted phone calls, or not at all, so this post should fill you in. Plus I am hoping it will be therapeutic to write this down.

Amelia was sick with a cold at the end of January and then with what we thought was a stomach virus after that. You can read about the "stomach virus" below. Last Monday afternoon and evening, Amelia felt very bad and spent about 3 hours just dozing my my arms. When Dean came home, we noticed that Amelia's stomach was distended, so I called the pediatrician on call (for the 6th or 7th time). She said that that could be part of the diarrhea but to call if it was stil going on on Wednesday. Monday night was rough; Amelia was waking up at a lot with a fever and diarrhea. Tuesday morning, she seemed a little better. Her fever was lower, and when she saw our leftover pasta in the frig, she said, "num num num" and "nooo-dle".

She ate some nooo-dles and some toast. Then she slept and we played a bit. The diarrhea stopped for awhile. But then she started fussing again, so I soothed her to sleep in my arms on our bed. When she woke up, she was kind of whimpering and her fever was a little higher, so I called the doctor. I had just decided I could not go through any more time not having her checked out, and if they told me it was a stomach virus and to come back tomorrow, so be it.

Amelia's pediatrician, Dr. Staerz, is a great doctor who has a solo practice. She shares calls with another doctor a little farther away from us, and sometimes their patients go to the other's office. We ended up going to the partner's office because they had an earlier appointment. On the way, Amelia was talking to herself and had perked up.

However, when we got to the doctor's office, Amelia took another turn for the worse. She began vomit ting while we were trying to get a urine sample. Both of us were covered in partially digested penne. Luckily had I had some extra clothes for Amelia, but not for myself. The doctor decided to draw some blood to run some tests, but when her nurse tried to find a vein, she was nervous that Amelia was too dehydrated and asked me if I would mind going to Dr. Staerz's office so that she could do it. I did not mind because I wanted Dr. Staerz to see Amelia anyway, so we packed up and headed to the other office.

In the meantime, the nagging worry I had felt all week had become acute. I was just starting to feel like something was very very wrong. Amelia slept on the way to the second doctor's office, and she slept in my arms while we waited for her blood to be drawn. She woke up and started vomiting again, so I rushed her to the bathroom. Most of it got on me. At that point I was pretty much in for a penny, in for a pound vomit-wise. When Dr. Staerx saw Amelia, she said, "She isn't well." Indeed. She drew the blood, and then told me that she wanted to me to stay and have Amelia sip some melted Popsicle or Pedialyte. If she couldn't keep in down, she wanted to me to take Amelia to an emergency room for fluids.

It was almost a relief to hear that, because I just wanted Amelia to be better. We got some melted green Popsicle down Amelia by giving it to her with a syringe, but she threw it back up. So with the doctor called the local ER to let them know we were on the way, and I called Dean, and off we went.

Amelia again slept on the way to the ER. There was valet parking so I could take her right in, and it was very calm when we got there, so we were taken right back to a room. While I was talking to the ER pediatrician, Dean and his mom arrived. (Dean's parents has just arrived for a week's visit. Great timing.)

Then began the process of getting an IV in Amelia's tiny veins. She was much more dehydrated than we had realized, and it took the doctors and nurses at least 10 or 12 tries before they got one in (in her foot). It was awful. Amelia was scared and in pain and being stuck repeatedly with a needle. Plus every so often she would throw up, and her vomit was taking on a rusty color, looking more and more bloody each time. All I could think was "something is very wrong," but I kept trying to soothe Amelia and tell her everything was okay.

Just a side note to say I almost feel like I somehow became a real mother sometime during our experience in that emergency room. Despite all that was still to come, I think our time in the first ER was the worst part of this whole experience because Amelia was in so much pain and we had no idea what was wrong. She was so upset and we were so scared. It was truly the worst part of the worst night of the worst week of my life. I felt like I was going to faint. All I wanted to do when they were trying to get the IV in her, and later when they were drawing spinal fluid to test for meningitis, was to leave the room so I didn't have to watch these things happen to my baby. But I couldn't. And there was no way I actually would have. I realized that my job was to stand there and tell Amelia that she was brave and strong and that everything was going to be okay. And for that to happen I could not be upset. I had to be calm and strong myself. And so I was--or I tried very hard to be.

Anyway they finally got the IV in. They did the spinal tap. (Random memory--after the procedure the ER doctor was taking the tape off Amelia's back and he said, "I think getting the tape off is the worst part." Um, no, I think the part where you stuck a huge long needle into my baby's spine was the worst part.)

It's hard to remember the timing of things after that but we got the good news that Amelia did not have meningitis and then they told us that they had gotten the results from her earlier blood tests. Her white cell count was very very high. The ER doctor told us Dr. Staerz wanted up to go to the nearby Children's Hospital so they could do more evaluation. Then he told us one of the things that they would be looking into was leukemia.

That might have in fact been the worst moment in all of this. It was the most terrifying thing I have ever heard. The ER doctor kind of wound his speech back around to saying that odds were she had a stomach virus, but it was too late for that kind of talk. We were in a black hole of terror and Amelia was still throwing up blood.

We must have waited quite awhile for a team of ambulance people to come move Amelia. In the meantime the ER doctor had talked to an oncologist at Children's, who told him that based on what she could see of the blood test and what we were describing, it was likely not leukemia. So that was reassuring but in the way that pouring a teaspoon of hot water into an icy bathtub might be warming. Finally the ambulance people arrived, got Amelia strapped into to a stretcher, and off we went.

I rode in the ambulance with Amelia while Dean drove the car. When we got to Children's Hospital they had a room in the ER waiting for us. A doctor came right in and the first thing he said was, "So what did you hear at [the first hospital]? A lot of people come in from there freaked out."

I said we were had heard leukemia as well as some other horrible-sounding diseases. After telling us that leukemia was a scary word but that the survival rate for it was over 95% these days, he went over the reasons he did not think that Amelia had it. He did the same for the other diseases they had thrown out at the other hospital. He also drew some more blood so that he could have a very good hematologist there take a look at the blood just to be sure.

Another side note--this experience has shown us how subjective a lot of medicine is. For example different doctors might read a high count of white blood cells in different ways depending on how the cells look and how old they are. Dean and I both realized we tended to think of medical diagnoses and treatment as very exact and scientific but that is not always the case. It underscored in my mind how hard it must be to be a doctor. I am a million times more impressed with doctors than I already was.

Again, I can't remember the timing, but we were in the Children's ER from about midnight to 6AM. A kind nurse brought in a cot for Dean and me to share. I also spent some time lying with Amelia on her bed. Every now and then she was still waking up, looking miserable, and throwing up blood. Her little lips were parched and rimmed with red. The hematologist came in and confirmed that Amelia's blood looked nothing like leukemia. The ER doctors kept coming in and checking. Finally he told us he wanted to admit her but he was not sure whether to send her to a room or to get a CT scan. He eventually decided that because her symptoms where not really in line with appendicitis and because it is so very rare for such a young child to get it, he would send us up to a room to let the hospital doctors continue to evaluate Amelia. Dean and I agreed that that seemed like the best thing to do at that point.

As we were wheeled up the our room, the sun was rising. It was the first time ever that I have stayed awake all night.

When we got to our room, we were greeted my our kind nurse Leesa, who would actually be our nurse for 5 of the 7 nights we would be there. Again, my memory is fuzzy at this point. Doctors came in and out. Amelia kept throwing up. The took a stool sample. Everyone was still leaning toward virus at this point. Apparently Dr. Staerz called around 8 or 9 AM and ordered an x-ray, and that's when things began to move along.

The x-ray showed that there were some issues with Amelia's bowels being blocked and I think they also showed that she had an infection in her abdomen as well. We were told the surgeons would come up and look at Amelia and either order a CT scan or do surgery right away. The surgeons came up. They said it was not a case in which we needed to rush to do surgery and ordered the CT scan. We got the CT scan. It confirmed what the x-rays showed: obstructed bowel, infection, possible ruptured appendix. She was going to need surgery to fix it.

By the time all this happened it was maybe 1 or 2 in the afternoon. Amelia was clearly in pain. We fully expected her surgery to happen very soon, but at that point the doctors began to speak of putting in a catheter and seeing how she did. I began to be suspicious that they were thinking of not doing the surgery that day. The doctor we were talking to, who was not a surgeon, was being vague on what the plans actually were. The fact that some emergency surgeries had come up was mentioned. At this point, trying hard not to be tearful, I made it very clear to everyone that I wanted Amelia's surgery to be done that day. Maybe she wasn't a life-threatening emergency, but she was in pain and we had already spend more than half the day waiting for decisions and test results and doctors to arrive and etc. Hospital time is very slow.

After that things started to move along. A surgeon came up to tell us she was scheduled for 6 PM. He talked about the surgery, the procedure, benefits and risks. We signed some papers.

We were still scared but relieved that things were moving in the right direction as far as fixing poor Amelia. I really don't know what we did all afternoon, but at 5 PM, a nurse came and told us they were ready for Amelia. Some people came and wheeled her crib to the surgery floor. We waited awhile and then talked to some anesthesiologists, then to Amelia's surgeon, Dr. Bruny. She was extremely reassuring. She seemed very calm, cool and collected, which was the case with most of the surgeons we spoke too, but she was also plain nice. Not that the other surgeons were mean--they were just direct to the point of being curt. I am not criticizing them--they have a very intense job. But Dr. Bruny made us feel very good. She told us her plan was to do the incision, clear out the infection and then remove the appendix. She answered our questions, and then wet to get ready for the surgery. They gave Amelia the first medicine that would put her to sleep, we kissed and told her we loved her, and the nurses, while playing with the stuffed animals in Amelia's crib, wheeled her away.

Whew. That's all I can do at this point. Spoiler alert: Amelia is home now, happy and playing, so don't worry about the ending. But I will have to write about the surgery and the days after ASAP.

In Sickness and in... Sickness

You may have have noticed the labels for posts to the right of this web page, just under my list of links. I like my label word cloud--if you don't know how it works, the label sizes correspond to how many posts have that label, so the label "Amelia" is 164 point font and a label I've only used once, like "labor and delivery," is very small. Until my last post, the label "sickness" had never appeared at all.

Until the end of January Amelia really had not been sick very much; she has certainly had a few colds and I think I have mentioned them on this blog, but never enough to give them a label. However, since the end of January our household has not been the picture of health. First I got a bad cold, and then Amelia got it. She was sniffly, fussy, and slightly feverish for the very very cold snap that we had a couple of weeks ago. Even though by doctor's definition she was better--no fever and not contagious--it seemed to take her forever to really get well. Finally, at the beginning of last week, she was her old self again, happy and bright eyed and runny-nose free.

It lasted two days.

Thursday morning, Amelia and I were leaving for a playdate, and she seemed... off. She was fussy but not about anything in particular. Then, on the way out the door, she laid her head on my shoulder. This is very much unlike Amelia, the anti-nap baby. I considered staying home and putting her to bed, but morning naps haven't been going well around here these days, so I just decided to let her fall asleep in the far if she needed to, so we could try for a longer afternoon nap later. She did fall asleep in the car. An hour or so later, she had a low fever, 99.7.

So we came home. On the way, I called the doctor and made an appointment for that afternoon. Since Amelia had been sick so recently I wanted to her checked out. But during lunch, her fever went away and she was her old self. She ate a huge lunch and happily played for a couple of hours. Not wanting to drag her into a germy doctor's office unnecessarily, I canceled the appointment.

Then she took a nap. When she woke up, she was feverish. The thermometer read 101.5. Twenty minutes later, it was 103.9.

So, holding a hot fussy baby, I called the doctor's office again. They counseled me in basic fever management (for a very high fever, you can alternate Tylenol and ibuprofen every 3 hours) and I made another appointment for the next day. I was very upset at myself for canceling the afternoon appointment. I was also scared because Amelia has never had such a high fever. Nor has she ever wanted to just sit in my arms, doing nothing, not even nursing. My poor baby was very sick.

Thursday night was kind of rough, with Amelia waking every so often with her fever. Friday morning, we headed to the doctor. She quickly determined that Amelia did not have an ear infection, strep, of the flu. So she decided to try to get a urine sample to see if it could be a urinary tract infection.

Getting a urine sample from a baby who's too young to pee in a cup is a little tricky. Basically there is this plastic bag they they taped to Amelia's... area. She was not a huge fan. We sat in the doctor's office and waited for Amelia to pee.

And waited, and waited, and waited.

We read all the books in the examining room, looked at all the diagrams (Amelia was particularly interested in the skeletal system), shared water from a Nalgene, and made up stories about the pictures on the walls. Amelia nursed and then slept. I took her to the bathroom and let her play with running water from the faucet. We went back to the examining room, reread all the books...

Two hours later, still no pee.

So I decided to take her home and bring the sample back later. When we got home, no pee. After lunch...

a very dirty diaper, and a little pee. I'll spare the details, but this was not ideal. The bag was very dirty. I did what I could to collect the urine sample (they gave me a little cup to pour it into) and taped on the second bag, which they had given me in the event that what had just happened happened.

After her nap, we had two more dirty diapers and no more pee. So I took what I had collected into the office and explained what was going on. The nurses consulted with the doctors, and that's when we heard the dreaded two words of the previous post.

And this is not your average 24 hour stomach bug. This is one that can last up to... 10 days. With very high fevers. (Did you notice the shared Nalgene above? I am still dreading that I might get this too. So far so good). Friday night, Amelia's fever spiked up above 104. We got it down quickly with medicine and a lukewarm bath, but it was scary. The same thing happened the next morning, and I was holding her. Her fever went up so fast I didn't realize what was happening.

Now, on Monday, Amelia Valentine is still sick. It's sad to see her feeling so badly and to know there is so little we can do to help. She mostly just wants to be held by me. Every now and then she will perk up and play, but soon after she gets a stomach cramp and starts to whimper, then cry. She has eaten only a few bites of rice and pretzels in the past couple of days. She will drink a little Gatorade and water, but not much else. She scorns the BRAT diet and Pedialyte in any form, including popsicle. The good news is that last night and this morning, we have weaned her off the three hour cycle of medicine without any more fever spikes so far. And, thankfully, she is not weaned from breastfeeding, so she is getting a some liquid and nutrients from that. She is sleeping a lot this morning, and I hope she that soon she will be on the mend. And that the label "sickness" stays very, very small.

Two Words No Parent Ever Wants to Hear:

stomach virus.