Uneventful beginning and roller coaster end

Jonas' pregnacy was largely uneventful.  I wasn't as sick as with Caleb but nearly so.  I would lie on the couch only getting up to throw up, change a movie, or make a sandwich for Caleb.  Poor, social, little Caleb would cry when a visiting someone would leave, he was soooo bored.  But he was also very helpful, getting drinks of water and such for me.  I think I had to go to the hospital once or twice to be re-hydrated.  But that was about it.

The fun all started when, at a routine appointment about a week before Jonas' due date, and as a result of Caleb being a forcept deliver, the Dr gave me some medicine to start an induction, 1/2 of a tablet placed on the cervix.  Expecting it to not work or at least take a while (at least a day so that Jonas didn't have the same birthday) I went home and Keith left to go to the airport to pick up Mom and Dad.  Before he left he asked me, "Are you sure you are going to be ok for 3 hours?"  I sent him on his way, but when he put it that way I got a little worried.  There was no way that they were going to have the same birthday.  However, I was starting to get strong pains and had some inkling of a doubt that he would make it back in time.  :)  I made supper (it was something with broccoli) and changed a couple messy underwear from a potty-training Caleb and sat on the chair to wait.

Keith came home and I encouraged him to get supper for Mom and Dad.  By the time he asked me if he could get me something, I said, "to the hospital."  HARD contractions in the back made me not remember how far apart they were (if I even timed them at all) and I was in a pain-induced panic on the way to the hospital sure that we weren't going to make it.  At the hospital I asked if I could walk and not be wheeled in a wheelchair.  And again with the signing the paper.  Do papers signed under duress of labor hold up in a court of law?!?!?!

When the nurse checked me (I was at a 3) she said "If you stay.. then..." something, something something.  I didn't get very far past the "IF."  I launched into a big rant about not going anywhere with pain this severe, no IF, lady, I was staying here.  Luckily, Keith said I didn't say a word.  I guess I'm not very vocal when I'm in labor.   This is the same nurse that told me, when I was dilated to an 8 or so, to tell her when I had an urge to push and she would call the doctor.  Only problem is I had an epidural with Caleb.  I don't know what it feels like to have an urge to push.  I pushed once, realized what the urge to push feels like and Jonas was out in push number two.  Oh, and the doctor lives 20 minutes away.  The nurse didn't have time to change the bed around from a laboring bed to a birthing bed.  She didn't have time to put a gown on.  She didn't even have time to go to get all the support people.  So, here she is with the gown hanging on one arm, bed half apart, holding Jonas' head hollering in the general direction of the door "I NEED SOME HELP IN HERE."  Dr. Blackner was pretty angry at her. Apparently, he has never been able to make it to a birth at which she was the head nurse.

Total time in the hospital until birth (or time to dialate from a 3 to a 10):  2 hours.  No time for an epidural. 

He barely squeaked in as a birthday present for Caleb, 11:30 at night.
They took Jonas to be checked and came back sometime later saying that his skin was all mottled and he was breathing funny.  They were going take an x-ray of his chest, and keep him in the nursery and have a nurse watching him full time.  I tried to get some sleep but I could hear him (he was the only one in the nursery) crying all night and I was very concerned.  The next day (or sometime after that anyway, it is all kind of one big blur) they said they see something on his lung and they were calling the baby ambulance from Mary Bridge to come get him.  They brought him in and let me hold him while they waited for it to come. 

A battery of 4 or 5 nurses came in with a portable isolette and introduced them selves to me as the team that would stand watch on Jonas' trip from Capital Medical Center to Mary Bridge Children's hospital in Tacoma.  A respiratory therapist, a person specializing in neo-natal resuccitation and I don't remember who all else.  I was very disappointed that they wouldn't let me ride in the ambulance with him.  But, I wasn't release from the hospital myself, officially anyway.  We hurried and got released and went up after him in the car.

Thus began my introduction to a whole (largely unnoticed by the outside world) world of desperately ill babies and children.

It was decided by the neonatal surgeon and his people that Jonas had a cyst on his lung and it was pushing his heart completely on the left side of his body and restricting his breathing.  It would have to come out along with as much as 1/3 of his lung.  However, surgery wouldn't be done until he was considerably less yellow.  Yes, he had the blood incompatability problem, as well.  They had him under bili lights and the kangaroo blanket (bililights in blanket form to wrap around their chest).  The hospital social worker bedded Keith and I in one of their "Parent Apartments."  Parent Apartments are rooms in the hospital, or apartments they had rented or purchased across or down the street for parents of the sick children in the hospital to stay in.  The first couple of days we stayed in one at the hospital.  It had a small fridge, bathroom and TV, what more could you ask???  

I think they put him on an IV and lights and just watched him for a that first day he was there.  I felt so guilty when I went there to visit my 7 pound something boy amidst all the 1 pound, 2 pound babies that were so tiny venilators would punch holes in their lungs, so they would have to have special venilators that would do special little puffs of air.  Babies whose mothers were still upstairs in the hospital recovering from their own trauma.

Oh, and it was quite an ordeal just to get in to see him.  You had to pass the reception desk that apparently wouldn't let "undesirables" in, though we never saw any altercations and they hardly even glanced at us.... even the first time we went in.  Then you had to go to a big sink where you had to open a scrubber, squirt soap on and spend 10 minutes scrubbing the skin off your hands... and any germs that happened to be brave enough to stay that far.  Then you had to run the gauntlet of rows of isolettes like soldiers standing watch over their precious charges, any one of which you would have love to hear the story on.  But even in those pre-HIPPA days privacy was valued and you didn't dare ask.  Once in a while you would see a barrage of doctors huddled around one of the isolettes murmuring quietly but intensely with worried faces.  It would make your heart break.

Jonas wasn't a happy camper.  He cried a lot.  We would go in and find another kind of pacifier added to the ever growing line on the window sill behind his bed.  We once had a nurse tell us "you know you are in for a rough night when you come in to take care of a baby and there are one or two pacifiers lined up, but you know you are in REALLY big trouble when there are 6 or 8."  They called me in often to nurse him- much more often than the 4 hours that they usually do-- because that was one of about two things that would calm him down. 

After about a day, for whatever reason, they decided that they didn't need to wait for his liver to break down all the biliruben and decided to do surgery the next morning.  Dr Blackner had encouraged us to give him a name and a blessing in the hospital.  He knew that the nurses and doctors would be very open to that (provided anyone who helped would scrub all their skin off too) and would pull a portable screen around us to give some privacy (well, as much as you can have in a room with 30 preemies and their nurses).  So we called Brother Johnson to bring Dad up (which was very kind as it was pretty late) so they and Keith could perform the ordinance and give him a priesthood blessing.  I sat nearby and tried to remember everything that was said so I could write it down.

I thought at the time (and many times since), that, although I wouldn't wish the situation on any one- having to give your child a name and a blessing in the hospital on short notice- it sure pares it down to what is important.  It isn't the fancy white clothes, who is going to stand in the circle, or even the food afterwards.  It is two parents-with their support people- appealing to Heavenly Father on behalf of their child.  A communion of earthly parents and Heavenly Parents where both are joyful and celebrating, but also a little apprehensive in giving up or receiving protection of the precious little soul for which so much has been given.  Though Jonas barely had a diaper on and had a myriad of wires attacking him, to me he was dressed in white encircled about by my arms, yes, but also those of whom he had just left, family of all sorts.  Monitors ceased their beeping and ventilators quieted their noises and angels sang, like a breath on your cheek.  Truly the veil was very thin then.

I never really felt that we would lose Jonas.  However, that night I woke up about 3:00 and kind of lost it.  They were going to cut into my baby, they were going to shove a tube down his throat and take away some of his lungs.  He was too little for that. 

Keith, wise man that he is, called the nurses and asked if I could come hold Jonas.  "It would be good for both of them."  After unhooking what wires they could I held him until they took him away to be prepped for surgery.

We began the 4 hour surgery wait.  A nurse came out and told us he was all ready and they were waiting for the surgeon to finish getting ready.  Surgery would begin in about 10 minutes.  She would come back in about an hour and give us an update.  30 minutes later the doctor came out.  When the doctor comes out unexpectedly there is only two possible outcomes.  Luckily, the doctor told us that everything went well, Jonas did very well.  The cyst turned out to be a pocket of air on the lining of the lung.  They didn't even have to dig into the lung.  He felt bad, wondering if the problem would have resolved itself.  But we felt, very strongly too, that things happened the way they were supposed to.  Who knows if that meant it wouldn't have resolved itself, it would have gotten worse, or if we needed to be in that position for some other reason.  So we ended up reassuring the doctor.

As a funny side note, on Jonas' chart it listed the surgery as a "blebectomy"- removal of a bleb.  Who knows what a bleb is but it is sure fun to say.

Then began the nearly 2 weeks (that seemed like 2 years) of recovery.  His little body looked so small when we were allowed to see him again.  He was so still and small-looking with so many instruments, tubes and wires going every which way.

A polaroid the nurses took of Jonas just after they removed his breathing tube,
all swollen and bruised

For the next week Jonas was in the NICU.  Keith went back to work and I bounced around from Parent Apartment to Parent Apartment.  Jonas was a little bit better behaved but I still felt like I was on a short leash. The nurses would call me in when he wouldn't calm down and I would nurse him.  I didn't have a car because Keith had one and we left one for Grandma and Grandpa.  Grandma and Grandpa Nielson had extended their stay to take care of Caleb while Jonas was still in the hospital.  Caleb loved having Grandma and Grandpa to play with but he would cry every time I left to go see Jonas. So, I was stuck with where I could walk.  There was a thrift store and a couple fast food restraunts that I could go to and still be back in time to nurse.  I even had to get a security escort to go nurse him when it was dusk or dark as the hospital is in the more seedy part of town.  I got very antsy, and very bored.  I got depressed and lonely.  It also didn't help that everyone was waiting for Jonas to be able to nurse long enough to sustain his weight and be able to go home.  I had lactation specialist after lactation specialist come in and consult with me.  I felt like such a failure. I wasn't holding him properly, I wasn't producing enough milk or any number of other excuses.  It was very liberating and appreciated when one (who had been on vacation) came in and said that it was just because Jonas didn't have the stamina yet to nurse for long enough.  She did a lot for my self esteem that suffered severely during that time.  I wanted to kiss her.
Jonas was moved to the transitional nursery or level 2 nursery.  It was carpeted and quieter.  They even had lights periodically on the ceiling down the hall that would light up when someone was being too loud.  The babies were actually dressed and wrapped in blankets.  He spent another week there.  I was able to do more in taking care of him.  When I was there they let me change his diapers and clothes and give him baths.
It was about this time that Grandma and Grandpa Nielson left to go home and Grandma and Grandpa J came to help.  It was all a grand adventure for Caleb.
It is a number game when you are waiting for a child to be able to get out of the hospital.  Do the oxygen sats stay up on their own?  Is he eating enough? (We actually had to weigh him before and weigh him after nursing to see how much he ate).  Is his heartrate staying even without any drops?  Each little milestone was celebrated, each little dip in numbers left a shadow of weeks more in recovery.
The last two nights Jonas was in the hospital they let me bring him into my room, they were nice enough to put me in a parent apartment at the hosptal--- I guess probably for that purpose.  I was so excited because that meant he was very close to coming home... but I was paranoid.  Though they wouldn't have let me do it if there was a concern that he wouldn't be ok or if they had any doubts that I could take care of him.  It is a little nerve wracking not having the monitors telling me that he was ok.  I've decided that I have kept that feeling for most of Jonas' life.  Through this experience of having him in the hospital, and all the issues we have had with his asthma I have invested a lot of emotional energy.  I panicked when he went to Kindergarten.  It wasn't until then that I felt a need for a cell phone.... but I digress.
It was glorious to finally take him home.  To finally be together as a family, to lead some semblence of a normal life.  It would be another couple of days before Keith's parents went home and reality hit that I had two kids to keep happy. LOL
We enjoy having Jonas in our family!!  He keeps us entertained with his dancing, stories and the creative things he says.  Life would definately be much duller place without Jonas!!

If you look closely you can see Jonas' birthmark on his forehead.  Lots of nurses called it a stork bite, had one call it a skid mark.  I liked that better than stork bite.  It was mostly gone by the time he was one and just stick out, bright and purple when he got angry or was crying.