Tag Archives: prematurity

March for Babies

Today was the March of Dimes March for Babies. We were Team March with the Muppets. (Self-explanatory – the five mile walk was to take place alongside the Million Dollar Miracle Muppets.) Continue reading

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High Risk Pediatrics

Normally, when the hint of a germ invades the house, I immediately revert to paranoid mommy mode (from within my Lysol wipes bubble of course). When Destroy began exhibiting signs of a stuffy nose on Monday I was calmer than usual. We had a doctors appointment on Tuesday morning.

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Doing Time: Navigating the NICU

I am speaking at the local Mothers of Multiples club on a panel about the NICU and hospital stays. Regular readers will know that I have *many* opinions on this topic. In fact, I have so many opinions on it that my first stint on lockdown is what started the words pouring out.

So below is a plethora of unsolicited advice: Doing time in the NICU is rough. It’s overwhelming.

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Unthinkable Thoughts

The U.K.’s Guardian recently posted an article about a 23-weeker. “Nathan was born at 23 weeks. If I’d known then what I do now, I’d have wanted him to die in my arms.” At first glance this seems like a horrible statement – who wishes death upon their child?

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The New Normal

(This post is the latest in the recent series, “Down the rabbit hole: What the hell happened this past year.”)

Last year, on April 13, I posted the following on my fledging StreamDoubleTrouble blog.

I am normal! After what seemed like eons since our last visual visit with our little ones, Jon and I returned to the doctor’s today to see how the twins are faring…Our high-risk perinatologist, Dr. Crites, smiled at the four of us and proclaimed, “Congratulations. You are having a perfectly normal twin pregnancy. You are now RELEASED!”

I’m normal! I’m still paranoid, but we are no longer classified as high-risk. My next appointment is with my regular doctor – who serves the general population of pregnant people. (Although appointments every two weeks mean I’m still being monitored very closely. I bet it’s “normal monitoring.”)

Go ahead. I’ll wait. When you’re done laughing uproariously at the absurdity of my bravado in announcing such a silly thing, and shaking your head at the now well-chronicled reality of the situation, the rest of this post awaits you.

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Grey’s Anatomy

I’ve watched Grey’s Anatomy since season one. I was utterly addicted for the first few seasons – speaking during my Thursday night drama viewing was completely unacceptable.

I remained loyal even through the Dead Denny Duquet story line. (Which was absolutely ridiculous, and bumped the show from Must See TV to Must Watch At Some Point After DVRing. What can I say? Grey’s has McDreamy and McSteamy, I have my McStreamy.)

This season’s major plotline is Callie’s pregnancy. (It involves a whole nightime soap arc of a lesbian lover who slept with a friend while the significant other was in Africa, but now the three of them each have a vote in how the kid will be raised plus Callie’s “very special vagina vote,” but for the purposes of this post, let’s just stick with the fact that Callie’s pregnant.)

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Imagine

This poem is not mine. But it is the best I’ve found to sum up the experience of prematurity. Every line is accurate.

It can be found at the end of the book “Parenting Your Premature Baby and Child: The Emotional Journey” by Deborah Davis & Mara Stein (page 832).

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Preemie Babies 101

Preemie Babies 101 is a site where preemie parents can find information, comfort and support about the ginormous twist and turns their lives are about to embark upon. I wish I’d found it sooner.

Afton Mower runs the site – her son became an angel at 21w2d gestation; he weighed only 12 ounces and was 10 inches long. Two years later, her daughter was born at 27w3d gestation and spent 94 days in the NICU. (For comparison by muppet enthusiasts, Search and Destroy were born at 27w4d gestation.)

Throughout her experience from the NICU and watching her daughter grow up, she decided to provide a social hub where preemie parents could band together and help each other through the ups and downs of the NICU and raising preemie babies.

Stressed, confused and exhausted parents are invited to read the experiences, opinions, and stories of other preemie parents, and share fears, thoughts, hopes about the strength of all our little miracles.

Today, you can read the muppets story there.

This story may seem familiar to regular readers of the blog. It is updated from its initial iteration in support of the March of Dimes Prematurity Awareness Day.

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Tricia’s Story (Parent Stories)

This story was thoughtfully submitted by one of our readers, Tricia.

I never thought I’d end up a mommy blogger. A world-famous Newbery Medal recipient, sure, but it instead appears my writing talents have headed down the road less traveled. One of my girlfriends started blogging about the random stories of mommyhood shortly after I found out I was pregnant.

My first trimester was rough – not just morning sickness, all day arfing sickness. I had just started a new job in December 2009, so being green on the job took on a whole new meaning. In January, we found out our family was growing a bit faster than expected. Our twins were due in August. In March, we learned our little muppets were two boys. I was finally feeling good.

“I think I’ll start a blog,” I decided one afternoon. I signed myself up on WordPress and there my page template sat for several weeks. No magical article-writing elves appeared to tell my story, so I sat myself down and announced to the global online community that Double Trouble was coming to town. I figured this blog would be a single source location for family and friends. I could sporadically post clever little anecdotes and event photos.

On April 13, I posted an article shouting from the rooftops that I was officialy having a normal pregnancy. Two weeks later, my world turned upside down. I started writing more and more – detailing and journaling my experience on bedrest and ultimately as an ante-partum patient in the hospital as I prayed for healthy twins.

Jon and I became parents on May 28, 2010. Our precious muppets were born weighing 2 pounds 3 ounces and 2 pounds 2 ounces. I held Search in my arms for no more than 10 seconds after his birth. I watched Destroy get wheeled out of the OR wrought with tubes and encased in a plastic incubator.

They were born 12 weeks too soon. And then I passed out.

I didn’t get to meet my muppets the day they were born. I spent hours shivering uncontrollably in a recovery room – demanding water from a nurse who tried my patience to its last nerve by insisting on following medical protocol instead of catering to my thirsty whims. Five hours after they were born, Jon was indoctrinated into life as a NICU parent. He was crying when he came back, but he reported they were doing amazingly well. There were so many wires…

The next day, I learned why people believe in love at first sight. Our nurses and doctors were cautiously optimistic. The muppets were all I could think about. So throughout the next 10 weeks, I took to the Web – sharing my thoughts, feelings and fears to anyone who may happen upon here. As I talked to people and shared our story, it seemed everyone knew someone who was premature. Suddenly, my new normal was “preemie parenthood.” Term babies seemed jumbo and odd.

I found the March of Dimes website accidentally as I scoured the Internet looking for any and all information on the hospital jargon being thrown at me. I became a mother on a mission. My boys were coming home healthy if I had to get a medical degree to do it.

The NICU staff laughed. “When you leave here, we’ll be sending you home part parent, part nurse.”

I never thought prematurity would be the cause I’d get behind. I did everything I was supposed to, but fate/humanity had other ideas and life isn’t fair. My body was broken but my boys are fighters.

The muppets are now more than seven months old. They’re laughing now (and having a grand old time spitting rice cereal raspberries) and it’s hard to remember how tiny they truly were when we first started our journey home.

I’m proud to be a preemie-parent. And I’m proud to be the mom to such nifty NICU grads. Next week our family will return to the hospital for a well-check with our pediatrician, and I expect at least one of the boys to tip the scales at 17 pounds – a far cry from tiny two pounders.

Thanks for getting the word out.

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