2 years post court

Two years ago Jim and I sat in a little Russian court room and managed to convince a judge that we would be suitable parents for this little guy....

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I love reading my blog entries written while in Russia, it was such a special time.  Go search around January 2011 if you want to re-live the crazy. 



judge said yes!



 Now, stop and take a moment to pray for families waiting in limbo for their babies and babies waiting for their families.  A few families that passed court before the shut down are starting to make it home, pray they all do.  Then if you want to go above and beyond pray for a miracle...that the ban would be totally lifted sometime soon. 

mr. putin

Having Lydia, from birth, makes me think a lot about the time we missed with Oliver.  Well not really the time WE missed but rather the care and love HE missed out on.  Was someone there to snuggle him, nurse him, and respond to his every whimper?  Probably not.

Yesterday evening Oliver, Lydia. and I were playing monster trucks on the couch...

Oliver - "I'm happy baby Lydia came to live in our house."
Me- "She is fun to have.  We didn't have you when you were a tiny baby.  Do you remember where you lived?"

get ready for heartbreak...

Oliver- "In a crib"
No one can know what he remembers from 20 months old, but I'm sure that he did spend a large portion of those months in a crib, in an orphanage with 149 other kids and 6 caregivers. 

Me-"You still lived in Russia, but then mommy and daddy came to get you. so we could be a family together."
Oliver- "That makes sense."
Me- "It does make sense!"

You see, Mr. Putin, even my 3 year old knows a family is better than a crib in an orphanage.

However, Mr. Putin, I do agree with you.  Russian children should be raised in Russia.  Not in orphanages, but in loving Russian families.  That just doesn't seem to be working for all your kids.  See Russians just seem too fussy about children (in my opinion).  They don't want to adopt boys, or kids with brown eyes, or tan skin, or Asian features, or red hair, or crossed eyes, or a cleft lip, or down syndrome, or.... See Mr. Putin we aren't taking Russian children away from Russians, we are taking Russian orphans, that were overlooked by Russians, and giving them a loving family. 

You're mad that some Americans were abusive toward Russian adopted children.  That makes me mad too.  I despise that I'm grouped in with them, and that all Americans and a bunch of little Russians will be punished because of their actions.  Let's not even discuss the statics regarding orphans who age out of your system.  Let's just say the number of orphans that die 1-2 years after leaving the system is much much larger than the number of orphans killed by the misdoings of Americans....not that there is ever an excuse to the abusive of or killing of a child, I'm just saying.

When we were in the process to adopt Oliver Russian adoptions were put on hold since some bozo in TN sent her kid back to Russian on a plane alone.  But it was just a hold, Russia came around, things were worked out, and we were able to finish the process.  Mr. Putin, I pray that you let the families that are currently in-process, finish the process...especially families who have been to Russia and met THEIR babies, that heartbreak is just too much, for both parties.  I also pray that if  this shut down is indeed long term or forever you fix the culture of children in your country so the number of total yearly adoptions doesn't drop even with the loss of US adoptions. 

I went to pick Oliver up by myself and I'll never forget what the orphanage director told me on my way out.  "Thank you for adopting him, now we have room for the next child on the list."  Can you imagine, as a child, being on a waiting list to get INTO an orphanage? blah

Lydia & Oliver

On Saturday, two days after Lydia was born, we asked the people taking care of Oliver to please bring him in to meet her and visit with Jim and I.  Our friends were kind enough to not tell him that we had the baby, so we could do it ourselves. 

I'm lay/sitting in bed and Jim is holding Lydia while sitting on the couch.  Oliver comes bounding in and running about, asking for drinks of water, or a snack or to watch TV....then he stops in his tracks "that's a baby." he says while pointing at Lydia. 

Jim brings her over to me and Oliver climbs up on the bed.  We tell him Lydia is his sister, she came out of the belly, and he is a brother now.  His mind was pretty much blown.

exchanging gifts

he gave her a stuffed animal he made at that
dreaded sibling class

Now we are home and Oliver continues to be interested and protective of Lydia. The other day Jim was changing her diaper and she was crying, Oliver ran in yelling "no no no stop stop."  We do lots of explaining that even if she is crying it doesn't mean we are hurting her, just that she isn't happy to be bothered or she wants food or whatever reasons babies cry for. 

Oliver's favorite ways to help....

1. Turning the music on when we put her in the bouncy seat while we eat dinner.
2. Helping feed her bottles.  (I nurse, but I pump too)
3. Using the boppy pillow to hold her. (he calls it the U pillow)

4. Teaching her how to play.

5. And teaching her how to snuggle.

csection recovery

High blood pressure and high protein levels mean after a csection you get to be put on a nice drip of magnesium sulfate through your IV and it SUCKS!  I suppose it is less horrid than having the seizures it prevents, but still it isn't a good time.

They sew me up and wheel me away to an itty bitty shoe box sized recovery room to be closely watched for two hours.  I can't remember a lot of the details, but I do remember them putting in that magnesium, oh it burned in my arm so badly...just 24 hours to go.  Jim and Lydia came back, a friend from church came and said hi, I have no idea what I was doing. 

So in the hours leading up to a csection there is no eating or drinking, then once on the magnesium there is no eating or drinking for the next 24 hours.  I could care less about eating, all I wanted was WATER!  Okay, lets not get dramatic, they did let me have fluids.  I was closely monitored for those next 24 hours.  Every hour a nurse came in, checked my blood pressure, temperature, oxygen, urine output, and gave me 20cc of water...but only if I remembered to ask.  Do you know how much 20cc of water is?  It's not even an ounce!  I quickly realized that ice chips were better than water and started requesting 20cc of ice at each hourly visit.  In the morning a young delivery boy from the nutrition department delivered me a tray of fluids, I said I wasn't allowed to have fluids and he said he was told to deliver it, I told him I loved him.  Sadly, I knew he was wrong and used all my self control to not chug that sprite he brought and pushed the try over to Jim.  

Now this magnesium also makes you hot and crazy and completely unable to focus.  Two of the pastors from our church stopped by, I think I talked, I tried to focus, it took all my energy to just keep my eyes looking in the correct direction.  I requested no other visitors and also asked to keep Oliver away until I looked somewhat more human.

Like I mentioned before, I was getting visited by a nurse every hour, now if the nurse just came to do the above mentioned tasks that would be great, however they all seem to have another agenda.  Well not all the nurses, just the ones that work at night.  So it's 3am, Jim is snoring away on the couch, Lydia is laying on me mostly because I can't move to put her anywhere else, and a nurse comes in.  She checks my vitals and then gives me a folder of discharge papers.  Discharge?  I just got here, I can't even move.  She goes on about some videos we need to watch on the TV and some other information...I'm overwhelmed.

However, the very best "nurse in the night with other agenda" story is below...

Lydia is in her bassinet, Jim is snoring on the couch, and I might even be sleeping.  However, when the door opens and the nurse walks in I wake right up.  She does her checks and then delivers a breast pump and other nursing supplies and talks about how I should start trying to nurse Lydia and pump every three hours.  It's like 4am, I must have said the right things and looked like I understood because she left.  Then Lydia started crying.  Lydia is crying, I can't reach her, Jim is snoring, and I need to start pumping breast milk...now I'm really overwhelmed.  I call out to Jim, how does he not hear her crying? 

"jim" "Jim" "JIM" "JIM!!!!!" how does he not hear me?  Men.

Now Lydia and I are both crying.  Jim finally wakes up and I complain that whenever his work phone makes the slightest noise he jumps up but when the nurse comes in or when his baby and wife are crying he has this wonderful ability to completely tune it out, I tell him he needs to work on that.  I make him set his alarm so it will ring at the time the nurse comes so when she arrives with her hoards of information he can listen to it. 

Eventually the IV is removed, the epidural and catheter are removed and I'm encouraged to start moving and walking.  The pain to get out of bed is awful, but once up it's not so bad.  I push Lydia around the hospital in her bassinet at various hours of the day and I wonder where are all the other mothers?  I know they were there, 20 other patients were discharged the same day as me. 

My blood is tested daily, my hemoglobin count is low and I'm dubbed at severely anemic.  Before leaving the hospital I'm giving prescriptions for pain medications and iron pills, I'm banned from driving for 2 weeks, and I'm set up with a million doctors visits for the upcoming weeks.  I'm not sure being pregnant agrees with me.  

Jim did manage to step up his game and wake up at proper helpful times.  I managed to avoid changing any of those sticky black poop diapers....victory! Lydia, managed to figure out how to nurse.  And Oliver is figuring out what being a brother is..more on that later.  

silly baby's arrival

12-6-12, 5:30pm

The urine test yields bad news, news of protein levels much too high.  I wanted to be told to go home, rest, drink water...I was actually told; induction? or csection?

It's a little funny.  Induction and csection were the furthest from my "plan." I don't like doctors and hospitals and interventions and needles and all that.  I was planning on staying home as long as possible, then arriving at the hospital to finish laboring and have a natural, non medicated, delivery.

6:30pm

I picked induction.  However, I knew that would only happen if the doctors could flip the baby.  Baby flipping ain't fun.  My doctor and another got an ultrasound machine and got to work trying to push baby's head out of my ribs and baby's butt out of my pelvis.  Wow, that was painful and it didn't at all work, baby wanted nothing to do with being in a different position.

7:00pm

Baby picked csection.  I'm not thrilled, but I'm keeping it together.  I ask if she will be the one preforming the operation and she says she isn't the one on tonight, but she will stay for me, well there is some good news.  Jim asks about the time frame.  "We just have to call the anesthesiologist and get an operating room ready, we should be ready to take you back in 20-30 minutes."  Oh this is getting real, fast!  Jim sends a few text messages and I get wheeled away.

getting wheeled away

I can't remember all that happened.  My head was spinning and I was suddenly surrounded by a lot of people and the operating room was cold and refreshing.  I remember keeping my eyes shut while they prepped the epidural, I didn't want any part of seeing any of that.  Tears welled up in my eyes, I focused on the button of the nurses jacket in front of me, I tried so hard not to shake or move, this part wasn't fun and I found myself apologizing over and over for crying.  Eventually my legs started numbing and the nurses tipped me over and centered me on the operating table.  Who painted clouds on the operating room ceiling?  Not even fluffy white clouds are going to calm me. 

7:50pm

I ask what time it is, I'm happy to hear it's 7:50.  8 is my favorite number, so I'm happy baby will be born in the 8:00 hour.

That epidural and spinal are no joke, all feeling lost and no ability to move as much as I thought about wiggling my toe, I just couldn't...so strange. What was moving were my teeth and hands, the shaking was so hard to control, not cold shaking or nervous shaking, just a side effect of some medicine shaking.  Jim arrives in his new attire and sits down on a stool next to my head.  I try to coax him into looking at what's going on, but he won't do it, he stays to the right of my head and asks 100x if I'm okay, while the anesthesiologist stands to the left asks 100x if I feel anything.  I'm good, well as good as can be expected.  Maybe I'm even getting a little excited. 

"Okay, you're going to feel some pressure."  This "pressure" they speak of has NOTHING on the pressure needed to attempt to flip a baby.

I hear my doctor say "No one say the gender, it's a surprise, dad will announce.  Okay dad, here is your baby"

It felt like it took Jim a century to determine that it was a GIRL!!! Finally, he managed to get the news out.

8:05 is called out as the time of birth.  I can see Jim and Baby Lydia off to my right.  Lydia is getting cleaned and measured and poked and prodded.  She is born almost 3 weeks early, but she is in great shape.  I felt awful for having to deliver early.  It wasn't Lydia's fault, it was my body was saying it was all done.  Luckily she was ready enough.  Lydia, Jim, and our favorite baby nurse, Jamie all leave for the nursery to continue harassing Lydia.

so far, this is my favorite picture of her

I'm left to be put back together.  As I'm being sewn back up the doctors carry on the conversation they were holding before the arrival of our child side tracked them....back to talks of Kate Middleton.  Chatter about DJs with bad accents and tough cases of morning sickness, I even join in the conversation.

Before long my doctor says goodbye and some nurses wheel me off to a recovery room.  I get hooked up to some IV meds and wait for Jim and Lydia to return.

meeting Lydia 

More on recovery at a later time...
 

silly baby, continued

Last post I mentioned that the doctor found some elevated levels of protein in my urine and I was instructed to go home and drink a ton of water, then return to the doctor the next day to be checked again.

12-5-12

Went home, drank loads of water, returned to the doctor, "you're protein levels are even higher today, we are going to admit you to the hospital."

Like now?

"Yeah, now.  Is there someone that can take care of your son?"

Umm I'll call my husband, and run home to get some stuff then come back

"okay.  oh, let's check your blood pressure"

I love when doctors give you crazy news then ask to take your blood pressure.  I managed to almost pass.

So, Oliver and I leave.  I make a few calls, and go home to pack up a few things.  Jim meets us at home then we all head back to the hospital together.  Blood pressure tested every 15 minutes, urine collected, baby monitoring, blood drawing.  Blood test, pass.  Pressure, borderline.  Urine, high levels of protein.  Baby, doing great.  Those results equal "you're going to be here for 24 hours of monitoring, and we'll decide what to do with you tomorrow."

The challenging part is that, since I've got a kid with me, they think I've done this before.  I find myself asking a million questions and mentioning over and over that this, indeed, it my first go at it.

We shall see what tomorrow brings....

12-6-12

Slept a bit.  Another blood draw at 5:00am, similar results as yesterday.  As of midnight I was banned from eating or drinking, just in case they decide to flip baby and induce, or have a csection.  By 10:00am I was asking for water, my doctor came in and said I could keep eating and drinking until 11:00am, how kind.

Also talked about options of what's next, but it really all depends on what is found in my urine.  I've never though or typed so much about urine in my life! 

Up next, silly baby's arrival....stay tuned.  

silly baby

For the most part pregnancy has been fairly uneventful, or maybe it's just that nothing since the great rash of August seems to be nearly as bad.  The pregnancy induced carpal tunnel causing most of the fingers on my right hand to go numb, not a problem.  Heartburn, take a tums, or three or four or...  Swollen feet and lack of ankles, just plain funny. 

However, today's weekly visit to the OB was not as fun.  I had an ultrasound to check baby's size.  Baby is measuring about 3 days ahead and about 7lbs, 4oz, organs look good, but baby is head up.  Head under my ribs then curved around my left side like the letter C, butt down, and feet wrapped up the right side.  Silly baby.  Next week I go back for an ultrasound to check the position again and make a plan.  The doctor assured me that whatever the plan ends up being they will keep checking position before doing anything drastic.  Luckily baby is still surrounded by enough fluid, but not too much, so turning still seems possible.  

Also, my urine sample (pregnancy is so glamorous) yielded news of protein.  Probably not an issue, just didn't drink enough today.  So back to the doctor tomorrow after I drink a large amount of water to make sure I don't have pre-eclampsia, which I probably don't since my blood pressure is still good.  Or it could be some kidney issue, which I also hope it's not since kidneys seem important.

So drop a little prayer that baby gets where it needs to be and the protein does the same. 

Lots more points for adoption, lots.