Sweet Savannah

Savannah's favorite napping position.

I think I've started this post 4 times now. Obviously my NICU brain is in full swing and I have no idea what happened with the previous 3 versions.

Little Miss Savannah is basically the rockstar of the NICU. She was completely off all oxygen one week after birth. ONE WEEK!! To put that in perspective, it took Owen 2 months to go completely off oxygen (in Owen's defense, he didn't get the steroid shots and he went through a lot of trauma before delivery). She stayed off oxygen for 4 days, but when we started working on teaching her how to eat, she had to go back on a low flow. She just didn't have the energy to eat and breathe all at the same time (this is normal).

No oxygen! It's so nice to see her face (mostly). That last tube is for feeding.

She has amazing nurses and I am reminded daily of the sacred experience it is to spend time in the NICU. Angels walk these halls and it is so neat to be a part of the miracles in these baby's lives.

Savannah is such a sweetie. Once they figured out how much to feed her, the "feistiness" the nurses saw went away. She pretty much never cries and she LOVES looking around at everything when she is awake. She is a great pooper (yes, I'm talking about poop on the blog) and has already nailed me (and her incubator) twice. During those moments I am grateful she's in the NICU because her nurse gets to clean up the mess while I snuggle her. :)

Giving a daily update for a NICU baby isn't really feasible. It's constantly 2 steps forward and one step back but most days don't differ much from the day before. Baby steps.

We have no idea when she will be able to come home. The doctors and nurses also have no idea. If you ask them they will tell you to plan on being here until her due date, and be grateful if she comes home earlier than that. So we are taking things one day at a time and letting her take the lead on how much she can handle. But she is a champ and we are seeing miracles in her development. We think she wants to come home as badly as we want her to!

Spending so much time in the hospital during the holidays means I often forget that Christmas is only a couple of days away. But I am given reminders all the time. Twice now the NICU has allowed Christmas carolers to stand outside the door and serenade us. It's awesome. We were also given a HUGE gift basket full of things only a NICU parent can truly appreciate. People are so good.

Being reunited with Owen is the best. (It's right up there with being reunited with my bed.) It took him about a week to trust that I wasn't going to leave him again, and now we are in a pretty good rhythm.

Owen has learned how to smile for the camera. It's awesome.

Merry Christmas!!

SHE'S HERE!!!

We proudly introduce:

Savannah Marjorie Ditto

Born: Friday, December 9th

Weight: 3 pounds 12 ounces

Height: 16.5 inches 

Dan and I each have a Grandma Marjorie, and when we realized she was born on my grandma's birthday we knew we had to incorporate the name. Owen calls her "Uhhhhhhhh-nana". Unfortunately he won't be able to see her until we bring her home. :(

The delivery took place without a hitch (except they had to give me 2 blocks because the 1st one only sort of worked). There were several scary potential scenarios that I was at risk for, but thankfully they ended up being non-issues and it was all fairly routine.

She has lots of dark wavy hair, dark eyes and the longest baby feet you ever did see. She's got at least a few weeks in the NICU, but that was expected. The nurses tell me she can be feisty for her diaper changes (oh boy!) and her little cry sounds like a kitten. We are in love and can't wait to bring her home so we can finally all be together!

Day 22 - The End is Near!

31 Weeks!

We keep learning over and over again that making plans is futile. Babies come when they decide to come (or in our case, when the docs decide to make them come).

Backing up a bit here - I've become well-versed in telling the 20-second version of why I'm here (each time I get a new nurse I have explaining to do). I also have a 2-minute version, and the more in-depth 5-10 minute version depending both on my mood and how inquisitive the nurse is. I will say that in general I get a jaw drop when they hear about my uterine rupture. Yes, it's that rare. But to tell the full story I have to back all the way up to tell about sweet Lydia. Rather than go into details here, if you're interested you can read this article. Minus the part about the happy ending, this is our exact.same.story. For reals. I like to think/hope that maybe what we went through helped the doctors to know how to save that little girl. What a blessing that she made it!

Anyway - because of that scary surgery where they removed Lydia's tumor (for us it happened when I was 25 weeks pregnant), the doctor had to utilize a vertical ("classical") incision, and it's rather large. Normal c-sections utilize a horizontal scar that is in the lower part of the uterus, thus minimizing any risk for rupturing.  It was my giant incision that spontaneously opened when I was 32 weeks pregnant with Owen. I was at home. Putting meat balls in the oven. And my doctor is quick to remind me that by all accounts, Owen and I should not have survived.

There is no way to predict a rupture, which is why I've spent the past 22 days living at the hospital. (By the time I leave, I will have spent more time here than in our new house. Go figure.) So I'm not technically on "bed rest." I do not have an iv. I am in the hospital "just in case" I rupture again so they can whisk me down to the operating room and save me and baby right away. My room is the closest room to the elevators for that very reason.

So the question of the last 22 days has been "when should we deliver?" I have to deliver via c-section (the contracting that occurs in a normal delivery would increase the rupture chances exponentially), and obviously we are trying to avoid another rupture. The goal has always been to get to 32 weeks, and then take it from there. Obviously the longer the baby stays in, the better things are for her (and less time in the NICU!) But it's a bit of a gamble. Dan and I discussed everything there is to discuss and decided we felt really good about waiting until December 19th. I would be 33 weeks and 2 days - exactly one week beyond where I was with Owen. We felt it was a good middle ground of not pushing my body too far, but letting baby "cook" a while longer. So much for that plan! My doc came in yesterday afternoon and explained that she had just come from a long meeting with all the other high-risk doctors that was all about me! (I don't know how I feel about being so well-known around here for my crazy medical history.) Basically all of the doctors agreed that it would be crazy to let me get as far as I was with Owen. So instead of delivering on the 19th, we are delivering on the NINTH. As in, Friday. As in, TWO days from now.

We knew she would be coming early, but I thought I would at least have another week. Mostly though, we're just grateful for amazing medical care that can allow us to grow our family. And just in case you were wondering, going through all of this is more than worth it for the life we were able to give Lydia. I would do it again and more if I had to. Families are Forever!

Day 19

In attempting to focus on the silver lining of this eternal hospital stay, I came to quite the realization the other day: being in the hospital is just like being on a cruise! And I don't even get sea sick!  Think about it: I don't cook, ever. My food is brought to me and I can eat in bed if I want (and I don't have to tip the delivery man!) My nurses refill my water several times a day. My private room and bathroom get cleaned daily (along with the garbage removal). The elevators are NOT equipped with mats to tell me what day of the week it is, but since the nurses update it on my white board every day, I don't even have to keep track of a calendar. And I even managed to make friends with one of the kitchen workers who now makes sure that I get a smoothie of my choice delivered every afternoon. So I'm basically living the dream over here! ;)

But, I'd like to think that after about 10 days of cruising it would start to get old, and 10 days was about when all of the "perks" started losing their appeal. Since I'm here on an "extended vacation" they let me order my meals from the cafeteria menu (which is MUCH MUCH MUCH MUCH better than the regular food the patients are offered). But now even the cafeteria food is just ok and I'm ready for normal food again.

Um, does anyone else notice the blob of mystery meat on here?
Seriously - it made me gag like crazy and I couldn't
touch anything else because of it's nastiness. They seriously expect
pregnant women to be able to put that down?

Thanks to lots of phone calls and visits the days are not as monotonous as I thought they would be. I even found a piano that I sneak off to play every once in a while when the room gets left unlocked (yes, I know this hospital well!) Also, I take a nap pretty much every day (because, why not?) I'm hoping by the time baby girl gets here that I'm well-rested and ready for the crazy few weeks of recovering and juggling my NICU baby and my Owen. But of course the last few nights my pregnant hormones have kicked in and I'm starting to not sleep all that great (but lets remember that I'm in a hospital - lots of noise and lights and a teeny awkward bed probably don't help either.) One of the perks of delivering my babes early is supposed to be that I skip all the late-pregnancy woes, but it's almost like my body knows what's going to happen so it's kicking in anyway. Go figure.

Owen chugging the milk I save for him every day. He spilled it ALL OVER ME
about 30 seconds after I took this picture. I got to walk back to my room from the
cafeteria looking like I wet myself. 

Owen continues to amaze me with his awesomeness. It took about 10 days before both of us could say goodbye without sobbing. Which on one hand is great, that he's doing well, but on another hand makes me sad that he is used to life without his momma. Sigh. Thankfully he visits lots and he now knows how to get to the fish tank and his favorite statue.

This little spot was MADE for Owen. There is a light switch AND a sink all
within arms reach. He sat and played there for a good 30 minutes one day.

Day 11

I'm here and I am surviving! So far the hardest part is being apart from Owen. He is handling it better than I thought he would, but it's still hard, and I still cry every time we have to say goodbye. His poor little mind is probably so confused with what's going on. Thank goodness kids are resilient and he won't remember this time of seeming abandonment.

Dan's family brought Sunday dinner last week and we all ate and had a grand time (but I forgot to take a picture!) And my family brought Thanksgiving dinner and the ever-important PIES and we all ate and had a grand time. (Don't tell anyone that we used some conference rooms on the first floor for both of these "grand times." Pretty sure we weren't supposed to be in there, but it's not my fault if a door happens to be left unlocked. And what are they going to do - kick me out?)

What are my days like? Well, I take long showers every day because, why not? It's not like I have something I need to get to, and I'm pretty sure the book I'm reading can wait an extra few minutes. So during my long shower on Day Two, I decided to shave my legs. Somehow I managed to cut myself with my dull razor, and I must have done a good job of it because I couldn't get it to stop bleeding. It wasn't anything crazy, but I didn't want to get blood on my pants. And while I know my nurse would have been more than happy to bring me a band-aid, I didn't want to be known for the rest of my stay as the girl who can't shave her legs without cutting herself (yes, I'm weird). So I looked around and Macgyver-ed a make-shift band-aid out of a paper towel and some medical tape. It was perfect! And I thought I was so smart for figuring it out without needing any help and ruining my ever-important reputation. Of course by the time I found the stuff and got it on, the bleeding had pretty much stopped. Go figure. And now I have nasty medical tape residue on my leg that won't come off. Gross. BUT, I achieved my goal of not getting blood on my pants and not bothering my nurse. So I count it as a win!

In other news, I've made it through the first 2 Gilmore's (the new ones, obviously). I'm keeping myself to one per day so I can truly appreciate them. The picture below is my giddy face when the "la la's" started at the beginning of the first episode. Bless whoever thought of a Gilmore revival!

My Incarceration: Day 7

This is a picture of the meal I earned after enduring the 3-hour glucose test this morning. I failed the 1-hour test last week. 😩  I blame it on the giant bag of Reese's that husband lovingly gave me. I have no self-control, especially when I'm stuck in a hospital.

Get in my belly!

They make you fast for the 3 hour test. Remember how you're not supposed to fast when you're pregnant? And then while you're not eating, you have to drink this nasty stuff that's basically one thousand percent sugar. Gross. I'm not sure how this test is legal, but whatever.

I figured a perk of living in the hospital would mean that I could start the test at 6am to minimize my fasting time. The doc okayed it. My nurse was on board. Too bad the phlebotomists who administer the test refuse to start until 7. Too bad I didn't know that until AFTER I woke myself up at 6. So I had to wait until after 10 this morning to eat anything. TEN!! (insert dramatic gasp here). Remember how I'm pregnant? When I told husband I wasn't going to be able to eat til 10 he responded with, "Whoa! You're going to be so grouchy!" (Bless him.)

So help me if I don't pass. How is a woman in the family way supposed to survive 5ish weeks in the hospital without chocolate?! I'm so nervous that I grabbed a pie as part of my breakfast, just in case the news is bad.

And if you were wondering if our life has settled down yet, it hasn't. Husband got in a fender bender on his way to work yesterday. 🚗  Thankfully he was driving his old ghetto car, but still. We have so many trials! 😉

To end on a happy note, I live for visits from my Owen. He's already learning the finer points of how to have fun in a hospital.

And So It Begins...

My "incarceration" began yesterday, and in true Ditto fashion it began with a bang! Being a crazy high-risk pregnant patient means I get to spend the rest of my pregnancy in the hospital. Yes, I said IN THE HOSPITAL. When is my due date? Oh, just February 4th. Yes, I said FEBRUARY 4th. But since the docs won't let me stay pregnant for too long (we don't want to have another explosion), baby girl will be here sometime before Christmas. (Best Christmas present ever!!) That means 4-6 weeks of living in the hospital. Lucky me.

Remember how we moved 3.5 weeks ago? Well, we did. I had all sorts of plans about getting everything perfectly setup and organized so that when I get out of the hospital with a new baby in tow I'll just be able to enjoy my new home and snuggle my perfect children (wink wink). Well, I'll still be able to enjoy my new home, but life happened and all that organizing just didn't get done. 

Thanks to new germs from a new place, Owen has either been sick or teething (or both) 97% of the time we've been in the new house. Needless to say the transition was tough on the poor kid. And 10 days after the big move he decided to share his germs with me. Worst cold I've had in years. And remember how when you're pregnant you can't take any medicine that actually helps? I felt like a pioneer. So instead of all the organizing/unpacking that I wanted to get done, Owen and I watched a LOT of Baby Einstein (if that stuff works on adults I must be a genius now!) ;)

And then. Then! We were T-minus 3 days to check-in and I had every minute planned out for what I wanted to get done, which involved a lot of help from Dan because I'm not allowed to lift anything. Then Dan's back decided to go out on him. It started Sunday and slowly got worse. By Tuesday morning I had to help him get dressed for work. Wednesday morning (the BIG day!) he woke up and couldn't move. (Not exaggerating here.) I spoon-fed him his breakfast and took care of Owen and packed bags for both Owen and I. Bless my angel mother-in-law for coming to the rescue when I realized I couldn't get it all done in time!

I left for the hospital with Dan flat on his back next to a load of painkillers and some food to keep him going. There is nothing worse than not being able to take care of your family! 

I won't elaborate on the separation from my Owen except to say that the goodbye was more than heartbreaking. And being pregnant and extra emotional sure doesn't help. He came for a visit today and it was balm to my soul.

Getting to the hospital was uneventful (nothing like driving yourself to the hospital because your husband can't move). They saved my lunch tray for me (hooray!) and I figured it was a good sign that my first meal had a package of peanut butter included.

The peanut butter. And my "I just bawled my eyes out because I had to say goodbye
to my family" face

This has nothing to do with my hospital stay, but my new ward managed to throw me a baby shower in the few weeks between the move and the incarceration. (Bless them!)  Can you believe how gorgeous this quilt is? I'm in love. And seeing it is a good reminder of why I am here. She will be worth it! (I keep telling her she better be the perfect baby after all this!)