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Sleeplessness

The best cure for insomnia is to get a lot of sleep

W.C. Fields

This week has been rough. The little one is in what is referred to as a “sleep regression,” and has been keeping Jesse and I up ALL night. We were blessed with one of those babies who slept through the night almost immediately, so this felt like a deep betrayal on his part. I have been the sickest I have been in YEARS, with lots of coughing, sore throat, fatigue, and insomnia due to lack of ability to breathe. For the past five to six days my husband has been exclusively waking up with Corbin in order to try and let me sleep, we are both still working forty hours a week, and trying to have some semblance of a life. It has been a rough time in our house, and it will come to a head tomorrow when we head to our FIRST Spina Bifida clinic Day. We will be travelling to Orlando, and spending the next two days doing imaging/testing and then a clinic day on Friday morning.

For SB kids, Spina Bifida clinic is a day where you go to your clinic and see many many doctors and care givers all at once, and then meet and speak about your childs ongoing care plan, their progress and general wellness and progression. To say I am nervous is an understatement. I am sure my general anxiety has been part of my insomnia, I am so apprehensive about this set of appointments. I am so grateful that the baby has been doing so well. His local doctors have been so impressed with him, but after such a complicated 2019, I am so scared to get bad news. I know I have to be optimistic and just hope for the best, but we have had such a hard year, and I know my heart cant take any more bad or complicated news.

I am so proud of this baby. He is the light of my life. I am so happy he is in our life, and he has truly completely our family. I have no words to express my love for him and his tiny heart and soul. His big blue eyes, and his smile, and his spiky hair, and his cute little belly laugh. Sometimes when you go to so many appointments, and see so many doctors, and are constantly in clinical environment you get frustrated because you want everyone to see your baby as a baby, and as a person, and not a statistic or a patient. I just want to enjoy him and cherish our time together as we approach his seventh month of life. I want people to see his fun personality and his heart, his cuddles and smiles, and not his complications or medical conditions

I am dedicated to getting my baby the best health care possible. I am dedicated to giving him his best shots, and the most opportunities he can. We are a fiercely supportive family. I will not be overcome by my fears and anxiety

He is strong. He is loved. He is capable of anything.

Wish us luck this week!

At least ONE of us is sleeping…

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New Year! (Same me?)

Cheers to a new year and another chance to get it right

oprah winfrey

Well, its 2020. 1990 and 2050 are equidistant to each other as of right now. (YIKES) and here we are flooded with lots of messages about new resolutions and goals from all angles. I have fallen into those pitfalls in the past, and given myself really strict or quantitative plans and deadlines, inevitably leading to failure. This year I am going to focus on more qualitative measures, and more than anything I am going to try and be KIND to myself.

The last year has been SO hard. Over the past month I have found my anxiety and depression spiking, my menstrual cycle and hormones are all over the place despite being back on the pill. I’m struggling with a lot of acute anxiety symptoms related to hospital stays, and January and February are chalk full of inpatient and outpatient testing and appointments that keep me up at night. Quite literally. I have not been sleeping well. My goals this year are to get to a healthier place both mentally and physically. I called my primary to make an appointment regarding my physical and mental health, as both have been kind of in the dumps. I had my well woman visit, I hired a personal health trainer, and am working on exercise and healthy eating habits. I need to be the best me I can be, in order to navigate the very hard world of special needs parenting, and be the best mom and advocate I can be for my son.

One step at a time…

Update to follow, hopefully next month on how all of those things are going. So far I am battling a lot of anxiety and dealing with a lack of self worth. That is baggage I do not want to bring into the new decade.

As far as a baby update, he is doing great. He now rolls from stomach to back (although only when HE feels like) we are close to getting back to tummy, but we cannot figure out what to do with our hands. We are working on applying for secondary PT to come to the house, most offices are still closed for the holiday so been some red tape.

The only bummer for 2020 so far, and I am sure this is a bummer for many of the families I know that have medically complex children, is that as of Jan 1, all deductibles and out of pocket maximums start over.

My reaction to the new insurance year starting

Stay healthy everyone, and talk soon

-Laura

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Take a break

Take a break. Run away with us for the summer

Lin Manuel Miranda

Last week. I did the seemingly impossible and took a break from the NICU. We were going on week six, and I had completely reached my limits as not only a mom but as a human being. Every night I was spending hours sobbing, crying every time my mom called me from Florida as well. My husband (who seriously is the best thing to ever happen to me) had been consistently urging me for weeks to take a few days off and go back to Tampa to see my house and my family. I of course was extremely against the idea. The baby wasn’t consistently stable, my anxiety over leaving him would seemingly be even worse than the feelings I was having spending every single day in intensive care. I could also just foresee all the mother shaming I would experience leaving my newborn a thousand miles away, and going off to see the sunshine state and visit my dogs.

But then I did something wild. I actually left. I didn’t think I would. The baby was more stable, we were seemingly in the home stretch of waiting. He had his dad, and in order for me to heal and succeed as a person and as a new mom, I had to go. I had to leave. I had to take five minutes to get my mental health in order, and have some semblance of normalcy. On day 122 of being away from home I turned to Jesse before bed and I said, “I have to go home.” My mother had said the exact same thing to me, and between the two of them I was convinced.

Tickets were bought, and I spent a little over 48 hours back in Florida. I got to see my nursery which had been completely designed and renovated while I was away (it is COMPLETELY stunning, my Mother-in-law and husband did and AMAZING job) I got to see my pets who seemed to have thought I had run away never to return. I got to see my HOUSE, and sleep in my BED, and drive my CAR. So many little things I had taken for granted when in town, and that were so healing and rejuvenating to me. Simple tasks like using my own kitchen and laundry room, sweeping my own floor, and eating food out of my own fridge was completely surreal. I went to Target and it was a completely spiritual experience. The week previous in Philadelphia I was having a hard time pumping milk, and my supply was really starting to dwindle. While in Florida my milk was up by about 2/3, probably just due to me feeling relaxed and in my own environment. I was able to sleep a full eight hours, run some last minute errands I needed for the baby, and pump a few days worth of milk to leave in the home freezer so we would have a slight back supply for our homecoming.

I think the only downside to me coming home briefly and re-charging was I felt embarrassed about it. I didn’t really tell many people it was happening, or see many of my family and friends for the very short time I was back, because not only was I VERY pressed for time, but I was worried what people would think. I was worried how people would feel, and perceive me as a mom. What kind of mother would leave her fresh baby, with all of his medical issues? How could she be so selfish? It hurt my heart to think what people would think about me. Mom shaming is a very real thing, and the standards new moms need to achieve are completely unattainable.

I have already felt the effects of mom shaming and my kid is barely a month old. But what people don’t realize that a big part of new motherhood tends to include losing yourself. Not on purpose, but just in the whirlwind of creating a new life, and one that requires a lot more care, we forget to think about ourselves for the most part, and unfortunately so do most people surrounding the new mom too. I had spent the last 122 days being, a vessel for life, a mother, and a patient, but I hadn’t spent many of those days feeling like an individual, and not very many of them feeling like “Laura.” The entire second half of my pregnancy was a clinical blur. I myself was healing from two abdominal surgeries, and even though I was trying to make my mental and physical health priorities, everyone around me, including myself was focused on the baby. Looking back to how I was feeling last week, and how I must have appeared to my loved ones, it is not shocking that they encouraged me to take a breather. Even just two days later I feel like a completely different person. Friends I talk to everyday have remarked even my written language seems more rested and positive, I seem very much more normal and level headed. Less depressed. A huge turn around.

I am now back with my son, and will be detailing our discharge story soon. I am back with him feeling like myself. I am Laura. I am a mom. I love my baby. However, I am also a person, and a human, with thoughts and feelings, a personality, an attitude, and an independent sense of self. He is my top priority but in order to care for him, I need to also take care of me. ❤

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A Wrinkle in Time

” “She believed that the Buddhists were right- that if you want, you will suffer; If you love, you will grieve.”

Anne Lamott

Today I fully intended to write about my first few days of recovery and continue this blog in a linear fashion, but I am not having the best day and so instead I think this will be a little bit more abstract. Today marks a little over eight weeks since I have been home. I have not seen my pets, my house, or the majority of my friends in a very long time.

I do not regret making this decision. I one hundred percent think that this was the best medical decision for my son, I feel incredibly lucky that we were both candidates for this treatment, as its harder to get than one would think. I am grateful to be in a safe place to stay, and I am grateful that my husband gets to be here with me, and continue to work so that we aren’t going into complete financial ruin. But the mental and physical toll of not only recovery, but being away from anything and everything familiar is hard. Its really hard. I miss walking my dogs, I miss seeing my mom. I spent several hours two days ago just crying.

Crying because I feel displaced.

Just a short vent. Some days are easier than others