So I had my first "Bad Mommy day." It wasn't bad...I guess it's more like it was a "Bad Boy Scout" day.
I went to my mom's house to do some laundry since its easier than carrying a baby and laundry across the parking lot. I packed Aeva's diaper bag...enough formula for two bottles...a nipple..some recieving blankets...and since there were diapers in there, I threw in one more, thinking that the diapers in there were a bigger size.
WELL...Aeva ate at 2, and got changed. Slept a while, played a little...then ate again at 5. I changed her, she ate, and...mid-way through her bottle, she pooped. No worries, there are diapers in the bag. Well she had to sit in it for a bit since she has to be kept upright after she eats. Once the danger zone had passed, I went to change her...and found no diapers. My mother and my Aunt gave me the guilt trip of there should always be 6 diapers and blah blah blah. Okay fine. I was underprepared. So Aeva got to sit in her poo for a little bit til we got home.
She never sits in dirty diapers...one time won't hurt her, and besides, I had put vaseline on her tushy to protect it.
Later on when I got home, I went to make her milk and formula concotion. I realized the milk was bad after I made two huge bottles of the concoction. It MAY have been good, but I tossed it to be safe. Mommy strike Numero Dos.
And then I broke the NEW shredder. Well, at least I thought that I did. I thought that I overloaded it with the abundance of bank statements and crap that needed shredding. It just wouldn't work. In any setting. Today, a full 24 hours later...I realized that....well..it wasn't plugged in. WTF. It was UNPLUGGED?! Genius.
Just call me Super Mom.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Friday, May 29, 2009
Week 3...Already?
So today marks three weeks home for Aeva. (Yay!)
It's been a rough week...contradicting her awesome last week of limited puking, this week has been nothing but puke. Typically not large, but atleast 6 times a day. Today, it hit its peak, and my wit's end, and she now has a doctor's appointment Monday specifically to address her reflux.
Earlier in the week, I noticed that she was grunting and bearing down (FYI- when you're a baby, pooping is a mission in itself) so I thought maybe she's just gassy this week. I gave her gas medicine to try to alleviate the gas and it associated pain, but that didn't work. Can't/Shouldn't give it too often because of the calcium content's possible kidney stone creation. Next I tried giving her just formula, rather than her totally awesome breastmilk and formula conoction. Nope. That didn't work either. Today I contemplated the ready to eat formula that is already mixed (thinking that the air bubbles are causing issues) but its not the right caloric count straight from the bottle, so that's out. She's pooped like 3 times this week, she's not constipated...WTF.
Her two o'clock feeding this afternoon was the breaking point. It was the first and only time I've ever seen her puke up everything...everything...she ate. She'd scream when the bottle came near her...chew on the nipple...scream....all textbook signs of reflux in infants. I reached my peak...I sat on the floor burping her (I feed her on the floor, puke isn't something I want all over our belongings) I cried. I was frusterated. I just wanted my baby to eat. Well, eat and keep it down. I called and made a doctor's appointment for Monday (not available for today at this point) specifically to address her reflux. (She will also have her 4 month well baby appointment on Friday). I give in. Let's try SOMETHING. Thickening her formula may work. Let's try that for a week. If that doesn't work, let's go to medicines. She needs to keep it down.
At her 5 pm feeding I went out on a limb again....I gave her gas medicine after she ate an ounce of formula. She seemed uncomfortable and scared to eat, so it was worth a shot...an hour later, here we sit. So far, no puke. One wet burp, but hell I'll take a wet burp any day over f*^ing puke.
***
Aeva had her orthopaedic surgeon appointment today for a follow-up on her hips. Here's her hip situtation:
When Aeva was en utero, she was breech: feet first and facing my back. Awesome. It explained why I couldn't feel her move much. When babies are breech, there is a tendency for them to have something called hip dysplasia, meaning the head of the femur bone (femoral head) either is completely dislocated from the hip socket (the acetabulum), or can slip out of the socket (called subluxation). Aeva was born with bilateral developmental hip dysplasia, or simply that BOTH of her legs were totally dislocated from her hips because her hip socket was too shallow to hold the femoral head.The risk factors for such condition are: first born child, female, breech. Aeva had all three.
At 6 weeks of age for any breech infant, a check is done for this condition, typically with an ultrasound. Once diagnosed, Aeva was put into a Pavlik Harness. (See picture insert: Its actually the same annoyingly happy baby picture that came with the harness. The picture came from the company's webpage). The harness held her legs up and shifted out, pushing the femoral head into the hip socket. The angle as gradually be shifted as the angle of her hips corrects. As she grew, the acetabulum grew around the femoral head, thus holding it in place, like a proper hip socket does. A week ago Aeva graduated from wearing the brace 24/7 to only wearing it at night.
Today, the doctor told us to keep having her wear it at night only, for another three weeks, and see you in a YEAR! (Well, when she's a year old).
Her hips have normalized, and she will progess as a normal infant would at this point.
After her appointment I got pulled over and got a ticket. Get this: My registration was expired by SEVEN (7) MONTHS! lol I paid the registration on Anthony's cars, but didn't on mine. LOL So it's a $40 ticket and $42 in administrative fees (Nashville is just plain greedy). I know the cop was filling his quota, because as soon as I pulled out, he pulled someone else over too. WTF. I registered the car and now just have to tell Anthony and pay the ticket. LOL Oops. I'm curious how Anthony drove that car everyday for 92 days while I was in the hospital with Aeva, and didn't get pulled over for it. Is it really just my luck?
It's been a rough week...contradicting her awesome last week of limited puking, this week has been nothing but puke. Typically not large, but atleast 6 times a day. Today, it hit its peak, and my wit's end, and she now has a doctor's appointment Monday specifically to address her reflux.
Earlier in the week, I noticed that she was grunting and bearing down (FYI- when you're a baby, pooping is a mission in itself) so I thought maybe she's just gassy this week. I gave her gas medicine to try to alleviate the gas and it associated pain, but that didn't work. Can't/Shouldn't give it too often because of the calcium content's possible kidney stone creation. Next I tried giving her just formula, rather than her totally awesome breastmilk and formula conoction. Nope. That didn't work either. Today I contemplated the ready to eat formula that is already mixed (thinking that the air bubbles are causing issues) but its not the right caloric count straight from the bottle, so that's out. She's pooped like 3 times this week, she's not constipated...WTF.
Her two o'clock feeding this afternoon was the breaking point. It was the first and only time I've ever seen her puke up everything...everything...she ate. She'd scream when the bottle came near her...chew on the nipple...scream....all textbook signs of reflux in infants. I reached my peak...I sat on the floor burping her (I feed her on the floor, puke isn't something I want all over our belongings) I cried. I was frusterated. I just wanted my baby to eat. Well, eat and keep it down. I called and made a doctor's appointment for Monday (not available for today at this point) specifically to address her reflux. (She will also have her 4 month well baby appointment on Friday). I give in. Let's try SOMETHING. Thickening her formula may work. Let's try that for a week. If that doesn't work, let's go to medicines. She needs to keep it down.
At her 5 pm feeding I went out on a limb again....I gave her gas medicine after she ate an ounce of formula. She seemed uncomfortable and scared to eat, so it was worth a shot...an hour later, here we sit. So far, no puke. One wet burp, but hell I'll take a wet burp any day over f*^ing puke.
***
Aeva had her orthopaedic surgeon appointment today for a follow-up on her hips. Here's her hip situtation:
When Aeva was en utero, she was breech: feet first and facing my back. Awesome. It explained why I couldn't feel her move much. When babies are breech, there is a tendency for them to have something called hip dysplasia, meaning the head of the femur bone (femoral head) either is completely dislocated from the hip socket (the acetabulum), or can slip out of the socket (called subluxation). Aeva was born with bilateral developmental hip dysplasia, or simply that BOTH of her legs were totally dislocated from her hips because her hip socket was too shallow to hold the femoral head.The risk factors for such condition are: first born child, female, breech. Aeva had all three.
At 6 weeks of age for any breech infant, a check is done for this condition, typically with an ultrasound. Once diagnosed, Aeva was put into a Pavlik Harness. (See picture insert: Its actually the same annoyingly happy baby picture that came with the harness. The picture came from the company's webpage). The harness held her legs up and shifted out, pushing the femoral head into the hip socket. The angle as gradually be shifted as the angle of her hips corrects. As she grew, the acetabulum grew around the femoral head, thus holding it in place, like a proper hip socket does. A week ago Aeva graduated from wearing the brace 24/7 to only wearing it at night.
Today, the doctor told us to keep having her wear it at night only, for another three weeks, and see you in a YEAR! (Well, when she's a year old).
Her hips have normalized, and she will progess as a normal infant would at this point.
After her appointment I got pulled over and got a ticket. Get this: My registration was expired by SEVEN (7) MONTHS! lol I paid the registration on Anthony's cars, but didn't on mine. LOL So it's a $40 ticket and $42 in administrative fees (Nashville is just plain greedy). I know the cop was filling his quota, because as soon as I pulled out, he pulled someone else over too. WTF. I registered the car and now just have to tell Anthony and pay the ticket. LOL Oops. I'm curious how Anthony drove that car everyday for 92 days while I was in the hospital with Aeva, and didn't get pulled over for it. Is it really just my luck?
Saturday, May 23, 2009
Aeva's Second Week Home
Aeva survived another week home!
She's growing nicely, though we have no official weight to post this week. Her next doctor's appointment is June 5, the day she is officially 4 months old. That day she will get her 4 month well-baby appointment, her 4 month shots, and a physical to check on her progress of catchup growth and maturity.
She has been steadily eating 2.5 ounces, and has had a GREAT week keeping it down! She had a bad day last Sunday, and puked at every feeding. Since then, she has only had minimal puking each day since. She does have milk up in her sinuses from her reflux that I can't suck out with the bulb syringe, but allegedly, it's okay. Today, Saturday, at her 3 pm feeding, she ate 3 whole ounces!!
It truly is amazing! In the hospital, her medical team kept saying that with preemies, it "just happens," and one day, everything clicks and they figure it all out. Holy moley, they really were right. There was one day, a Sunday to be particular, that she just started eating the 2 ounces every 3 hours that she needed to. From there, she was sent home at the end of the week!!
At not even 3 weeks home yet, she's already up one whole ounce!!
She's a very good baby, and doesn't cry often. She only really cries when she throws up, but who doesn't? When she wakes up in the middle of the night, she only wimpers and grunts and makes cute little baby noises.
She's been pooping regularly, and having good urine output. I can't believe women push babies out this big! She is so ginormous to us, and yet is still so little in the grand scheme of things.
Oh, this past Thursday, the 21st, she came out of her hip brace for her hip dysplasia. She only wears the brace at night, and man o man does she hate that! She goes to see her orthopaedic surgeon on the 29th for another ultrasound to verify the position of the femoral head in the acetablulum. (The head of the thigh bone into the hip socket).
She's growing nicely, though we have no official weight to post this week. Her next doctor's appointment is June 5, the day she is officially 4 months old. That day she will get her 4 month well-baby appointment, her 4 month shots, and a physical to check on her progress of catchup growth and maturity.
She has been steadily eating 2.5 ounces, and has had a GREAT week keeping it down! She had a bad day last Sunday, and puked at every feeding. Since then, she has only had minimal puking each day since. She does have milk up in her sinuses from her reflux that I can't suck out with the bulb syringe, but allegedly, it's okay. Today, Saturday, at her 3 pm feeding, she ate 3 whole ounces!!
It truly is amazing! In the hospital, her medical team kept saying that with preemies, it "just happens," and one day, everything clicks and they figure it all out. Holy moley, they really were right. There was one day, a Sunday to be particular, that she just started eating the 2 ounces every 3 hours that she needed to. From there, she was sent home at the end of the week!!
At not even 3 weeks home yet, she's already up one whole ounce!!
She's a very good baby, and doesn't cry often. She only really cries when she throws up, but who doesn't? When she wakes up in the middle of the night, she only wimpers and grunts and makes cute little baby noises.
She's been pooping regularly, and having good urine output. I can't believe women push babies out this big! She is so ginormous to us, and yet is still so little in the grand scheme of things.
Oh, this past Thursday, the 21st, she came out of her hip brace for her hip dysplasia. She only wears the brace at night, and man o man does she hate that! She goes to see her orthopaedic surgeon on the 29th for another ultrasound to verify the position of the femoral head in the acetablulum. (The head of the thigh bone into the hip socket).
Monday, May 18, 2009
High Calorie Infant Formula
Since there is so much interest in what Aeva is eating, I thought I'd give the lo-down here:
There are 3 different types of infant formula categories: preemie, transitional, and term.
Term formula is what all of you are accustom to: it has normal amounts of nutrients for a baby birthed at term, and is 20 calories per ounce.
Preemie formula is ridiculously high in nutrients, and is for the time the preemie is born, and the time they are considered term.
Transitional formula is in the middle, and can be formulated into different caloric counts. It is higher than term formula in nutrients and protien, but not as high as preemie formula.
FYI: Breastmilk alone is 20calories per ounce.
SO, Aeva doesn't like the taste of breastmilk, oddly. Maybe it was something I was eating.
Anyways, she is to be on 28 calorie formula. She gets 1/4 breastmilk to 3/4 formula. The breastmilk gets formula added to it to make it 28 cal, and then it is added to formula. The overall concoction is 28cal.
She is on a high calorie diet so that she can catch up on her growth. She more than likely will be on transitional formula for her first year, but the calorie level will go down to 22 as she gets bigger. She will be weaned down to just normal 22 cal transitional formula.
I hope that answers some the questions about her food.
Let's not forget that she has reflux and pukes. All the time. More some days than others.
There are 3 different types of infant formula categories: preemie, transitional, and term.
Term formula is what all of you are accustom to: it has normal amounts of nutrients for a baby birthed at term, and is 20 calories per ounce.
Preemie formula is ridiculously high in nutrients, and is for the time the preemie is born, and the time they are considered term.
Transitional formula is in the middle, and can be formulated into different caloric counts. It is higher than term formula in nutrients and protien, but not as high as preemie formula.
FYI: Breastmilk alone is 20calories per ounce.
SO, Aeva doesn't like the taste of breastmilk, oddly. Maybe it was something I was eating.
Anyways, she is to be on 28 calorie formula. She gets 1/4 breastmilk to 3/4 formula. The breastmilk gets formula added to it to make it 28 cal, and then it is added to formula. The overall concoction is 28cal.
She is on a high calorie diet so that she can catch up on her growth. She more than likely will be on transitional formula for her first year, but the calorie level will go down to 22 as she gets bigger. She will be weaned down to just normal 22 cal transitional formula.
I hope that answers some the questions about her food.
Let's not forget that she has reflux and pukes. All the time. More some days than others.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
What Its Like to Have An Early Baby
Anthony has posted all of my Facebook notes that were written from the NICU as everyone requested updates on Aeva's progress. A popular question, with which I still have a hard time dealing with, was, "how are you doing?" I don't think I've ever honestly answered that question to any one other than Anthony.
There is no way to describe what it feels like to have an early baby. No pregnant woman ever contemplates the "what if" of preterm labor and birth, or complications. No one tells you of them. Sitting in the exam room of my OBGYN's office hearing him as "how far along is she" after I failed my urine test was a less than stellar feeling. He came in and instantly put me on bedrest, effective immediately following further testing at the neighboring hospital. There was no questioning this, I knew it was bad. When the tests came back so terribly that he sent me to Vanderbilt University down in Nashville because our hospital was ill equiped to handle 30week babies, it was worse. Getting steroid shots in hopes to aid lung maturity means business, and that there's a baby coming soon. I was determined not to have a baby that night.
I held out four days...2 steroid shots...3 ultrasounds...many bloodtests...and 4 days in a bed...until the anastesiologist walked in and said "just in case, is now, now." Anthony had gone home to do somethings, and luckily was on his way back, because I was being prepped for surgery. I had a lovely dose of toxemia, meaning my kidney and liver were rejecting the pregnancy, producing enzymes which in turn made my heart work harder than needed. It was a baby or me situation, and for it to be the both of us, baby needed to be delivered NOW. And NOW means NOW in the labor and delivery wing. I rolled over and I don't think I've ever cried so hard before in my lifetime. There was no way that this baby in my tummy could come now. It just wasn't time.
There's the feeling of fear. Fearful that she won't be okay...or that something is wrong with not just me, but with her. Fearful that even a c-section birth would be too stressful on her. Fearful that though the neonatologist said that babies born at that gestational age (30 weeks) have a 97% survival rate...that she wouldn't survive. They were worried about her because she was small...would be be too small to survive? Would she be underdeveloped? There's the fear that your husband would hate you for not carrying his baby to term. Fearful that he'd think you did something wrong to make this happen. Fearful that he thinks it's your fault. Fearful he'd just hate you.
Luckily, baby girl dumbfounded the doctors in her extreme healthy despite her very low birth weight. And luckily, Anthony didn't find it to be anyone's fault.
Anthony and I had a few choices of names picked...and it was this moment that I knew which one I wanted it to be. I wanted Aeva because it was strong name. AEVA RENDINA. So strong. Strong was what she was going to have to be right then when she was going to come out, and through the next few weeks through the rollercoaster of the NICU. Jaqueline came from my Aunt Jackie who was full of piss and vinegar. Also strong. Aunt Jackie was a strong, strong woman. This baby was going to need to be strong and have an attitude. Aeva Jaqueline Rendina. AJR. Her Daddy's initials. A strong man. This baby was going to need all the strength she could get.
I had an amazing anastesiologist who calmed me down...atleast enough that he could give me the epidural...which in itself is a wierd feeling. Not having sensation from bra-line down, but feeling the tugging of a baby being taken (not delivered, but taken) from your body is....well...hurtful. You literally feel empty inside when it comes out. You've come to know and love this little person growing inside of you as a part of you...and when it's taken from you...you're literally empty. What seemed like forever later, the baby made a sound, which at that time sounded like a kitten rather than a baby...the best sound in the whole entire universe. This early baby made a sound.
Not wanting her to be alone, I sent Anthony out of the operating room to be with her...I'm a big girl and can handle being alone...this baby was taken from its warm home and thrown into the terrifying world of a hospital of all places, without first being held and loved by her mommy or daddy...she needed her Daddy as close as possible...
I didn't get to see the baby for 24 hours....I was on anti-seizure medication again and didnt get to see her until the next time.
If there is anything in the world that just makes your heart sink...your stomach churn...your eyes water...and your mind go crazy..it's seeing that baby that you've felt moving in your womb...out into the world so little...so thin..so helpless...so peaceful...with tubes and iv lines...
I didn't see her when she had the breathing tube in (thankfully)..she only had it for 4 hours...
There's that feeling when you first know that you can finally go see her that's bittersweet...overjoyed that you can FINALLY see your little baby...and that feeling like you don't want to see her because it's your fault...There's nothing to say to anyone when you have to look through the plexi-glass of an incubator to see your baby...or ask permission of a NURSE to touch YOUR baby...or the feeling when you first hold them...the feeling of relief that she's okay and she's made it this far...but the feeling that it's your fault...the only thing to say to her at this point is, "Hi, I'm your mommy...I'm sorry."
I'm sorry is all I could really say for a long time. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're here so early. I'm sorry that I got sick. I'm sorry that if it came to "you or I" that they picked both of us...they should have picked you. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the home you needed to grow in inside of me. I'm sorry you have to finish maturing in a plexiglass cage...I'm just sorry.
This is when we finalized her name, and that her birth certificate and incubator tag got a name. She looked like an Aeva. She looked strong. She didn't look like what you would think a preemie would. She didn't look sick. She looked strong. She was Aeva Jaqueline Rendina.
Part of it was adjusting to bloodpressure medication. but when I'd see her for the first week or so, I'd get really hot, and faint, and would need to sit. The overwhelming feeling of guilt and pain (physically from the c-section, emotionally from this "journey") just hurt. We couldn't hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. Honestly, we didn't know yet if everything WAS going to be okay.
The only thing we could do was to pull up a chair and sit. Sit there and stare at her. Be there for moral support. Talk to each other, talk to to nurses...talk to her through her incubator (also called an isolette) so that she learned who we were from or voices.
When a preemie is first born, and for some time after, the only way to touch him/her is to put your hand on the soles of their feet, and to cup their head. Stroking a preemie like you would a "normal" (the PC term for this is to call them a term baby)baby is too much stimulation, and isn't optimal for them. Aeva learned affection, love, and security through this.
The sleepless nights thinking of how she is doing...the eagerness to be next to her even though we couldn't touch her...there are no words for it. For a while, she went through what we (NICU veterans) call a "spell." A spell is a bradycardia (decrease in heartbeat) and apnea (forgetting to breathe) episode. Essentially, when she turns blue. At first they are the most traumatic thing post c-section. The first time you see your baby turn blue because they are so small and early that they haven't learned to self regulate....is...well...heart wrenching. The good news is, is that the bigger they get, the less often they happen, and the more used to them you become. It gets to the point that spells don't phase you, and how to stimulate her to breathe again is second nature. The beeps and alarms of the NICU become normal, and you can tell what each one means by it differing tone. The higher pitched and faster it is, the worse the reason.
The guilt of thinking that it was my fault she was born early never went away. It got better, but it didn't go away. Consciously, I know it wasn't my fault. But as a mother, there is nothing else to say or think than it was MY fault. It was MY responsibilityto give her the right enviornment to grow in...MY responsibility to be healthy and keep her warm and comfortable inside so that she'd grow. But somewhere, the universe thought differently. Only 2-8% of women experiece toxemia (preeclampsia) in their pregnancies, and even fewer of that experience HELLP, a complication of the complication. I got both. I got it bad. Somewhere I pissed off the pregnancy goddess and she got her revenge.
There's the anger feeling...being angry that some women don't even WANT kids, and have ACCIDENTAL pregnancies, and carry their babies to term. How come I wanted nothing more than to have a baby and experience birth, and I had to get the short end of the stick. I took care of myself. Perfectly. I excersised. I ate well. I took my vitamins. I still got the short end of the stick. I only had gained 10lbs at 20weeks pregnant. At 30 weeks, 1 day, I had gained 37lbs. In the 48 hours I lost 20 of it. Water weight. I never looked pregnant. I looked like I was getting chubby. Never pregnant. Never really had a belly. I could still see my toes. I never really felt her move. She didn't move often. (Turns out she was breech and I only felt her back) The first time I felt her have the hiccups was the day that I was admitted to the hospital. The doctor was happy to see her "practicing" breathing en utero...it meant she had a good survival chance.
There's denial...the daily thought that "today's not the day. I can make it another one. I'm NOT having a baby today." But honestly, it's just denying the fact that it literally is a 15 minute by 15 minute wait...when my blood pressure was taken it was just the matter of how high was it. Was it high, but low enough to let me relax and try to hold out...or was it high and was just high. The anxiety of needing to know what my blood pressure was probably never helped. There's the denial post-"birth." Not wanting pictures to be taken of her. Not wanting too see the ones that were taken. Not wanting to see that the fact that she was soooo little was immortalized for all of posterity to see. Why would anyone WANT to remember her so little...
There are those moments that the only thing to do is to curl up and cry. Just cry. Not even say anything. Just let it all out. I had to stay calm to try to keep my blood pressure down that there were so so so so many tears built up. They came out over the following weeks.
Then there's that moment when all that stops. It's the moment that being a mommy kicks in. It's the moment that those selfish feelings are put aside...and the only feeling left, is the feeling that says to do whatever you have to do to help her. When you watch a baby in a pure survival mode it's all you can do...it's the feeling that if she's doing what she has to do to survive...then the only thing I can do is put aside my thoughts and do what I need to do to help her to make the struggle just a little easier on her.
In those early days, it meant talking. Letting her hear our voices. It meant eating well so that the breastmilk was nutritious. It meant pumping as much milk as possible because breastmilk was her key to success. It meant taking each day as it came...just like she did...And the hardest one was...it meant not holding her. Holding her stimulated her. It made her burn precious calories that she needed to grow...to regulate her own temperature...to make blood, fat and everything else she needed. It meant out of 1440 minutes in a day...we held her 20. She learned to love us by us doing her care...taking her temperature...changing her diaper..taking care of her umbilical cord...
There is the rollercoaster ride of the NICU...sometimes everything goes well...and then all of a sudden, there's a step backwards. Indeed, it was a rollercoaster.
But then there's the triumphant feeling of leaving. Of putting her in the car seat and rushing the nurse through the discharge information...and then walking out that door. For so long we'd watched people take babies out of the hospital while we were bringing stuff in...today was the day that we weren't taking anything IN. We walked OUT. Healthy. Together. Triumphant over the horrifying NICU. We beat it. We made it through it. Most importantly, AEVA made it. SHE fought each and every day to make it. We just were there for moral support.
I'll never accept the fact that she was born early. I'll never believe you when you tell me it wasn't my fault. I'll never be able to get frusterated with her for things that aren't her fault, and that are just from prematurity. It's hard to not get frusterated when she throws up all the time..or when she doesn't do something "right." The only thought that goes through my mind when frustration starts to...is that its not her fault. She's doing everything the best that she knows how to. If she was a term baby, she'd know how to better. It's not her fault that she has to work just a little harder to do some things. And it's definately not her fault she was born early.
I don't like pregnant women right now. I'm jealous. I HATE hearing pregnant women complain about how fat they are, or how scared of labor they are...how how it hurts when the baby pushes into their ribs. Shut up. Some of us never got any of that. Some of us never got to be "pregnant." (The big 'ol fat kind where you can't see your toes or when you need help standing up from a chair." Some of us WISH we couldnt lose tthe baby weight...it means that we were pregnant. So those of you who are, or know people who are pregnant, make sure you know that pregnancy is a sacred time. It's beautiful.
There's that moment when you get to come home and prepare for homecoming...to nest..finally...that's like nothing else. It's what having a baby SHOULD feel like. Exciting. Happy. Anxiety. Wanting everything to be perfect. There're those moment when you're so tired from not sleeping that all you want to do is sleep...but all you CAN do it stare at her...wondering how could such a little girl have gone through so much already. Anthony and I didn't survive the NICU. We aren't veterans. Aeva is. SHE did that. Aeva made it through the NICU.
There's that feeling of running your finger over your c-section scar. The scar that reminds you daily of what happened. There's no forgetting this. There's no forgetting that Aeva was born early under an emergency circumstance. There's a 5 inch scar reminding me every. single. day. Everyday. Every time I shower, I see it. I see the place that Aeva was taken from...the place they opened up to see her little tushy staring up at them...Being butt first was her little way of telling the doctors to "kiss my ass." :) There's the tingly sensation around the scar from nerves regrowing...its the feeling of being empty...of knowing she was taken from there...
Then there's relief. Relief knowing that the little girl laying on my chest is healthy. She's HEALTHY. She defied all odds and is healthy. She's not delayed in any way; she's met all milestones thusfar. She's a strong little girl. There is no strength in the world that surpasses that of child who has survived the NICU. Watch out world, Aeva's here.
There is no way to describe what it feels like to have an early baby. No pregnant woman ever contemplates the "what if" of preterm labor and birth, or complications. No one tells you of them. Sitting in the exam room of my OBGYN's office hearing him as "how far along is she" after I failed my urine test was a less than stellar feeling. He came in and instantly put me on bedrest, effective immediately following further testing at the neighboring hospital. There was no questioning this, I knew it was bad. When the tests came back so terribly that he sent me to Vanderbilt University down in Nashville because our hospital was ill equiped to handle 30week babies, it was worse. Getting steroid shots in hopes to aid lung maturity means business, and that there's a baby coming soon. I was determined not to have a baby that night.
I held out four days...2 steroid shots...3 ultrasounds...many bloodtests...and 4 days in a bed...until the anastesiologist walked in and said "just in case, is now, now." Anthony had gone home to do somethings, and luckily was on his way back, because I was being prepped for surgery. I had a lovely dose of toxemia, meaning my kidney and liver were rejecting the pregnancy, producing enzymes which in turn made my heart work harder than needed. It was a baby or me situation, and for it to be the both of us, baby needed to be delivered NOW. And NOW means NOW in the labor and delivery wing. I rolled over and I don't think I've ever cried so hard before in my lifetime. There was no way that this baby in my tummy could come now. It just wasn't time.
There's the feeling of fear. Fearful that she won't be okay...or that something is wrong with not just me, but with her. Fearful that even a c-section birth would be too stressful on her. Fearful that though the neonatologist said that babies born at that gestational age (30 weeks) have a 97% survival rate...that she wouldn't survive. They were worried about her because she was small...would be be too small to survive? Would she be underdeveloped? There's the fear that your husband would hate you for not carrying his baby to term. Fearful that he'd think you did something wrong to make this happen. Fearful that he thinks it's your fault. Fearful he'd just hate you.
Luckily, baby girl dumbfounded the doctors in her extreme healthy despite her very low birth weight. And luckily, Anthony didn't find it to be anyone's fault.
Anthony and I had a few choices of names picked...and it was this moment that I knew which one I wanted it to be. I wanted Aeva because it was strong name. AEVA RENDINA. So strong. Strong was what she was going to have to be right then when she was going to come out, and through the next few weeks through the rollercoaster of the NICU. Jaqueline came from my Aunt Jackie who was full of piss and vinegar. Also strong. Aunt Jackie was a strong, strong woman. This baby was going to need to be strong and have an attitude. Aeva Jaqueline Rendina. AJR. Her Daddy's initials. A strong man. This baby was going to need all the strength she could get.
I had an amazing anastesiologist who calmed me down...atleast enough that he could give me the epidural...which in itself is a wierd feeling. Not having sensation from bra-line down, but feeling the tugging of a baby being taken (not delivered, but taken) from your body is....well...hurtful. You literally feel empty inside when it comes out. You've come to know and love this little person growing inside of you as a part of you...and when it's taken from you...you're literally empty. What seemed like forever later, the baby made a sound, which at that time sounded like a kitten rather than a baby...the best sound in the whole entire universe. This early baby made a sound.
Not wanting her to be alone, I sent Anthony out of the operating room to be with her...I'm a big girl and can handle being alone...this baby was taken from its warm home and thrown into the terrifying world of a hospital of all places, without first being held and loved by her mommy or daddy...she needed her Daddy as close as possible...
I didn't get to see the baby for 24 hours....I was on anti-seizure medication again and didnt get to see her until the next time.
If there is anything in the world that just makes your heart sink...your stomach churn...your eyes water...and your mind go crazy..it's seeing that baby that you've felt moving in your womb...out into the world so little...so thin..so helpless...so peaceful...with tubes and iv lines...
I didn't see her when she had the breathing tube in (thankfully)..she only had it for 4 hours...
There's that feeling when you first know that you can finally go see her that's bittersweet...overjoyed that you can FINALLY see your little baby...and that feeling like you don't want to see her because it's your fault...There's nothing to say to anyone when you have to look through the plexi-glass of an incubator to see your baby...or ask permission of a NURSE to touch YOUR baby...or the feeling when you first hold them...the feeling of relief that she's okay and she's made it this far...but the feeling that it's your fault...the only thing to say to her at this point is, "Hi, I'm your mommy...I'm sorry."
I'm sorry is all I could really say for a long time. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that you're here so early. I'm sorry that I got sick. I'm sorry that if it came to "you or I" that they picked both of us...they should have picked you. I'm sorry I couldn't give you the home you needed to grow in inside of me. I'm sorry you have to finish maturing in a plexiglass cage...I'm just sorry.
This is when we finalized her name, and that her birth certificate and incubator tag got a name. She looked like an Aeva. She looked strong. She didn't look like what you would think a preemie would. She didn't look sick. She looked strong. She was Aeva Jaqueline Rendina.
Part of it was adjusting to bloodpressure medication. but when I'd see her for the first week or so, I'd get really hot, and faint, and would need to sit. The overwhelming feeling of guilt and pain (physically from the c-section, emotionally from this "journey") just hurt. We couldn't hold her and tell her everything was going to be okay. Honestly, we didn't know yet if everything WAS going to be okay.
The only thing we could do was to pull up a chair and sit. Sit there and stare at her. Be there for moral support. Talk to each other, talk to to nurses...talk to her through her incubator (also called an isolette) so that she learned who we were from or voices.
When a preemie is first born, and for some time after, the only way to touch him/her is to put your hand on the soles of their feet, and to cup their head. Stroking a preemie like you would a "normal" (the PC term for this is to call them a term baby)baby is too much stimulation, and isn't optimal for them. Aeva learned affection, love, and security through this.
The sleepless nights thinking of how she is doing...the eagerness to be next to her even though we couldn't touch her...there are no words for it. For a while, she went through what we (NICU veterans) call a "spell." A spell is a bradycardia (decrease in heartbeat) and apnea (forgetting to breathe) episode. Essentially, when she turns blue. At first they are the most traumatic thing post c-section. The first time you see your baby turn blue because they are so small and early that they haven't learned to self regulate....is...well...heart wrenching. The good news is, is that the bigger they get, the less often they happen, and the more used to them you become. It gets to the point that spells don't phase you, and how to stimulate her to breathe again is second nature. The beeps and alarms of the NICU become normal, and you can tell what each one means by it differing tone. The higher pitched and faster it is, the worse the reason.
The guilt of thinking that it was my fault she was born early never went away. It got better, but it didn't go away. Consciously, I know it wasn't my fault. But as a mother, there is nothing else to say or think than it was MY fault. It was MY responsibilityto give her the right enviornment to grow in...MY responsibility to be healthy and keep her warm and comfortable inside so that she'd grow. But somewhere, the universe thought differently. Only 2-8% of women experiece toxemia (preeclampsia) in their pregnancies, and even fewer of that experience HELLP, a complication of the complication. I got both. I got it bad. Somewhere I pissed off the pregnancy goddess and she got her revenge.
There's the anger feeling...being angry that some women don't even WANT kids, and have ACCIDENTAL pregnancies, and carry their babies to term. How come I wanted nothing more than to have a baby and experience birth, and I had to get the short end of the stick. I took care of myself. Perfectly. I excersised. I ate well. I took my vitamins. I still got the short end of the stick. I only had gained 10lbs at 20weeks pregnant. At 30 weeks, 1 day, I had gained 37lbs. In the 48 hours I lost 20 of it. Water weight. I never looked pregnant. I looked like I was getting chubby. Never pregnant. Never really had a belly. I could still see my toes. I never really felt her move. She didn't move often. (Turns out she was breech and I only felt her back) The first time I felt her have the hiccups was the day that I was admitted to the hospital. The doctor was happy to see her "practicing" breathing en utero...it meant she had a good survival chance.
There's denial...the daily thought that "today's not the day. I can make it another one. I'm NOT having a baby today." But honestly, it's just denying the fact that it literally is a 15 minute by 15 minute wait...when my blood pressure was taken it was just the matter of how high was it. Was it high, but low enough to let me relax and try to hold out...or was it high and was just high. The anxiety of needing to know what my blood pressure was probably never helped. There's the denial post-"birth." Not wanting pictures to be taken of her. Not wanting too see the ones that were taken. Not wanting to see that the fact that she was soooo little was immortalized for all of posterity to see. Why would anyone WANT to remember her so little...
There are those moments that the only thing to do is to curl up and cry. Just cry. Not even say anything. Just let it all out. I had to stay calm to try to keep my blood pressure down that there were so so so so many tears built up. They came out over the following weeks.
Then there's that moment when all that stops. It's the moment that being a mommy kicks in. It's the moment that those selfish feelings are put aside...and the only feeling left, is the feeling that says to do whatever you have to do to help her. When you watch a baby in a pure survival mode it's all you can do...it's the feeling that if she's doing what she has to do to survive...then the only thing I can do is put aside my thoughts and do what I need to do to help her to make the struggle just a little easier on her.
In those early days, it meant talking. Letting her hear our voices. It meant eating well so that the breastmilk was nutritious. It meant pumping as much milk as possible because breastmilk was her key to success. It meant taking each day as it came...just like she did...And the hardest one was...it meant not holding her. Holding her stimulated her. It made her burn precious calories that she needed to grow...to regulate her own temperature...to make blood, fat and everything else she needed. It meant out of 1440 minutes in a day...we held her 20. She learned to love us by us doing her care...taking her temperature...changing her diaper..taking care of her umbilical cord...
There is the rollercoaster ride of the NICU...sometimes everything goes well...and then all of a sudden, there's a step backwards. Indeed, it was a rollercoaster.
But then there's the triumphant feeling of leaving. Of putting her in the car seat and rushing the nurse through the discharge information...and then walking out that door. For so long we'd watched people take babies out of the hospital while we were bringing stuff in...today was the day that we weren't taking anything IN. We walked OUT. Healthy. Together. Triumphant over the horrifying NICU. We beat it. We made it through it. Most importantly, AEVA made it. SHE fought each and every day to make it. We just were there for moral support.
I'll never accept the fact that she was born early. I'll never believe you when you tell me it wasn't my fault. I'll never be able to get frusterated with her for things that aren't her fault, and that are just from prematurity. It's hard to not get frusterated when she throws up all the time..or when she doesn't do something "right." The only thought that goes through my mind when frustration starts to...is that its not her fault. She's doing everything the best that she knows how to. If she was a term baby, she'd know how to better. It's not her fault that she has to work just a little harder to do some things. And it's definately not her fault she was born early.
I don't like pregnant women right now. I'm jealous. I HATE hearing pregnant women complain about how fat they are, or how scared of labor they are...how how it hurts when the baby pushes into their ribs. Shut up. Some of us never got any of that. Some of us never got to be "pregnant." (The big 'ol fat kind where you can't see your toes or when you need help standing up from a chair." Some of us WISH we couldnt lose tthe baby weight...it means that we were pregnant. So those of you who are, or know people who are pregnant, make sure you know that pregnancy is a sacred time. It's beautiful.
There's that moment when you get to come home and prepare for homecoming...to nest..finally...that's like nothing else. It's what having a baby SHOULD feel like. Exciting. Happy. Anxiety. Wanting everything to be perfect. There're those moment when you're so tired from not sleeping that all you want to do is sleep...but all you CAN do it stare at her...wondering how could such a little girl have gone through so much already. Anthony and I didn't survive the NICU. We aren't veterans. Aeva is. SHE did that. Aeva made it through the NICU.
There's that feeling of running your finger over your c-section scar. The scar that reminds you daily of what happened. There's no forgetting this. There's no forgetting that Aeva was born early under an emergency circumstance. There's a 5 inch scar reminding me every. single. day. Everyday. Every time I shower, I see it. I see the place that Aeva was taken from...the place they opened up to see her little tushy staring up at them...Being butt first was her little way of telling the doctors to "kiss my ass." :) There's the tingly sensation around the scar from nerves regrowing...its the feeling of being empty...of knowing she was taken from there...
Then there's relief. Relief knowing that the little girl laying on my chest is healthy. She's HEALTHY. She defied all odds and is healthy. She's not delayed in any way; she's met all milestones thusfar. She's a strong little girl. There is no strength in the world that surpasses that of child who has survived the NICU. Watch out world, Aeva's here.
Notes and Thanks
I included the last couple of months of notes from Naomi's notes to show how much Aeva has been through and how much She has over come. Nothing can describe the feelings a parent goes through while watching their child struggle from birth. Not being able to hold your child after birth and to see a breathing tube stuck down her throat envokes alot of bad memories. Yet, Naomi & Aeva pulled through these hard times. Cause their Tough.
Now on to the thank you's
First and fore most is Naomi for making such a beautiful daughter and Aeva for being such a resilient child.
The Vanderbuilt staff they provided us guidance, friendship and helped Aeva get healthy. They also took time with us and provided us with the utmost care. They also put up with me of which is no small feat.
And every one else From My parents coming out to Naomi's Mother being there for us, To our friends and families who have shown endless support in a myriad of ways.
Now on to the thank you's
First and fore most is Naomi for making such a beautiful daughter and Aeva for being such a resilient child.
The Vanderbuilt staff they provided us guidance, friendship and helped Aeva get healthy. They also took time with us and provided us with the utmost care. They also put up with me of which is no small feat.
And every one else From My parents coming out to Naomi's Mother being there for us, To our friends and families who have shown endless support in a myriad of ways.
Aevas first week home
Aeva has now been home for a bit over a week now. She is adjusting well to home life, and has even gotten to venture out a little bit into the real world. (nothing exciting, only the Tricare office on post when I wanted to kill her pediatrician). She left the Vanderbilt NICU weighting 7lbs 3.3oz (5/8), and was 7lbs 8oz on Monday, (5/11), and was was 7 lbs 11.8oz on Friday the 15th. She is growing at the rate that she should, and is eating well.Most of you know that Aeva's issue that kept her in the NICU so @#$%ing long was eating. She is now eating 2-2.5 ounces every 3 hours, keeping the majority of it down. She is a puker and atleast 2 times a day will puke up a little bit. It's funny: after being in the NICU for so long, we learned how to judge how much puke was "a lot" versus "a little." Sometimes its more than others..but its ALWAYS all over something...my leg...my arm...the floor...herself...:)She's a pretty easy-going baby...not too demanding, and very self satisfying. (I probably just jinxed it.) She sleeps well...better if on a lap or chest...and loves to be pushed by our cat, Whiskey, when she's in her swing.Whiskey is not having jealousy issues, he is actually very protective of her and will pull guard duty and watch her.
Aeva comes home
Tonight, May 7,2009, is Aeva's LAST NIGHT in the NICU!!! At 3.5 weeks post-due date, something in that little girl's head clicked, and she's EATING!!! She's gone from eating maybe just over an ounce, to eating 2 ounces every 3 hours, and even once today, almost 3 ounces!!! (She even pooped two days in a row, for those that understand poop issues.)Tomorrow morning we venture home, where I went on Wednesday and nested. I guess this is what having a baby is supposed to feel like. I must say, this is a much better feeling than the stressed, scared, and worred feelings we had when she was first born. I will keep everyone updated on her progress through notes...or perhaps I should start a blog..."Aeva's Adventures." (Though she cant take real adventures yet...that would be waaaayy too many germs.)PS: Her hips are just about normalized, and in 2 weeks she goes to part time of wearing her brace, and she sees her prthopaedic surgeon in 3).
The Next couple weeks of Aeva
Aeva had an ultrasound of her stomach done to ensure that everything was working correctly, as well as an xray of her abdomen to also make sure everything was working and looking fine. She passed both tests with flying colors: there is nothing wrong.SO, we decided to take out her feeding tube. Besides, who like to suck on a bottle with a tube down your throat? It cant be comfortable! Taking out her tube is like a sink or swim situation. She needs to keep her urine output up, poop, and eat the correct volume of food to make her team happy.Instantly, her enthusiasm for eating increased, and she was excited and enthusiastic to eat. She wasn't eating what they wanted her to, but she was making a decent start. Each day she got a little better, but she was only gaining a tiny bit.WELL, last night, she decided to stop taking her bottles. Over the weekend, she was on formula only bottles, and now she was back on her 50/50 combination of breastmilk and formula. She doesn't like the taste of it, and was fighting eating it. After convincing her doctor that she doesnt like breastmilk (which was a feat in itself) we decided to lower the ratio of breastmilk to formula, now 1/4 breastmilk to 3/4 formula. Luckily, it did dilute the milk enough that she cant taste it, but reaps the benefits of mommy milk. They also upped the calories of her formula so that each ounce she drinks is 28 calories. (Breastmilk alone is 20 calories per 1 oz.). (She was on 26 cal food previously). With all tis change, she hasn't been eating well today. Currently, she is sleeping, and I hope to feed her in 2-3 hours, and a good amount. Hopefully tomorrow will bring better eating.Her weight gain and growth wasn't "terrible" (says the team) but it coul be better. She still looks healthy, so they are okay with continuing attempting to let her figure this out on her own.She really needs to poop, the poor girl hurts. SHe may eat better once she poops, and also once she gets out of her brace for her hips. Let's hope tomorrow is better.Thank you all for the concern and interest in her well-being!
Aeva comes out
Aeva was born by emergency c-section 9 weeks and 3 days early on February 5, 2009, at 8:07pm in Nashville, TN, due to a severe pregnancy complication I encountered. (I am healing fine, and just about back to normal). She was born very healthy, which shocked even the doctors. She was small for her gestational age of 30 weeks.Aeva has gone through a rollercoaster ride through the NICU, and has done rather well, with minimal setbacks. She has made it through apnea spells, caffiene dosages for her heart, digestion issues, jaundice, and extremely low birth weight.Today, April 14, Aeva is 2 days past her due date and is considered term. She has bilateral hip dislocation, meaning that since she was breech, her hips are not in the sockets. She is in a brace that holds her legs into the hip joint, in efforts to allow her hip to grow and create a proper socket for her legs to be in. Tomorrow is the ultrasound to see if her legs are indeed in the sockets. She weighed 5lbs 14.7oz Monday the 13th, and grows each and everyday. Currently she is learning, slowly, how to eat from a bottle. She has had some vomit issues the last few days, but we're pretty sure it is due to air. She is still learning how to suck on a bottle,and the seal she has now isn't tight enough, so she ingests air. Once she masters eating, she will be set to come home.
Saturday, May 16, 2009
Where it all started.
During my first tour of Iraq, Brandon, Naomi’s brother showed Naomi my webpage and we became pen pals. We spent months writing each other and found that we had much in common. I looked forward to reading her weekly emails. Soon we were talking quite frequently. A few months later in Oct of 2006 I came back to the states. Even though there was an over indulgence of partying going on we maintained contact. Naomi put up with my highly intoxicated phone calls for some time. Finally in Nov during a four day holiday things started to come together. Naomi was in Boston, Ma for a Middle Eastern studies conference and I like Boston. We decided to finally meet in person. First things first, I had to ask her brother Brandon to sign my paper work to be allowed to travel. For those of you who haven’t met him, he is a big man. I mean who in the right mind asks a 6’3 250 pound man if he can go away to Boston with his little sister. Well I never said I was the picture of mental stability so I asked and I was granted permission. Landing in Boston I was so nervous I had to stop at the rest room to wipe the sweat from my face. The taxi ride over to the hotel where Naomi’s conference wasn’t any better I was sweating like a fat boy in a long buffet line. So I had to stop again to freshen up.
When Naomi met me I was in awe she was beautiful, and the words she said to me had me instantly. She said, “What took you so long?” I was head over heals. We went to a Boston bruin’s hockey game against the buffalo sabers. After wards Naomi asked what we should do next I said how about we go to the bar where everyone knows you name. She said no we cant I am not 21. I was confused because she was a senior in college, and I am not to quick sometimes. Once I got that all figured out we walked the city. After leaving Boston I couldn’t wait to see her again with me living in Tennessee and her living in the communist state of California it would be a while.
Soon after Boston, My Future Mother-in-law came to Tennessee to visit her son. I think it was more to met the man her daughter talked so highly of. I got to see baby pictures of Naomi. I was also asked the tricky question; does my daughter have any tattoos? Mmmm no comment at that moment and this moment.
As luck would have it Naomi was going to visit her other brother during Christmas break. And I would be in New Jersey with my family. After Christmas, Naomi took the train up to Jersey to spend time with me and my family. What a good Christmas present.
During this time frame there were quite a few timeless moments such as Naomi falling down my bedroom stairs. My dad making fun of her while cutting my cars exhaust pipes and slipping and almost cutting his thumb off. Like I said classic moments.
It would be a few months before I would get to see her again. And that moment was Naomi’s graduation from college in May of 2007. I got to spend a couple days in California with her got to see her graduate and met the rest of Naomi’s family. The day after graduation Naomi and I headed east in her Grand Cherokee to start our lives together.
The next months would be a slight foreshadowing of what was to come. The week after we arrived and started to settle in I had to go to a field problem for 2 weeks. I came home for 3 days and I left again for another 2 weeks. Then I came home and had to leave for the army’s version of playing army in Louisiana for 3 more weeks. It all went pretty smoothly except Naomi kicked our roommates out. In hind site it was for the best.
On Jan 8th 2008 we took the next step and married in a small ceremony attended by my parents my grand father and her mother. No more partying for me. Just kidding, as time will tell me liking to party is what in part made Aeva. On Feb 8th as a one month anniversary present I left for Iraq again. I came for mid tour which happens to be for some reason the time frame for army couples to conceive. Naomi and I were no different a few weeks after redeploying I was given the news Anthony you are going to be a father. I was elated I always wanted kids. The reality set in, oh shit I am going to be responsible for a whole other life. Feed it, change it, teach it from right or wrong. Boy oh boy was I scared. As time went on I came to the realization the hey if millions of stupid people can raise kids I am sure Some one as smart as Naomi and I can too.
When Naomi met me I was in awe she was beautiful, and the words she said to me had me instantly. She said, “What took you so long?” I was head over heals. We went to a Boston bruin’s hockey game against the buffalo sabers. After wards Naomi asked what we should do next I said how about we go to the bar where everyone knows you name. She said no we cant I am not 21. I was confused because she was a senior in college, and I am not to quick sometimes. Once I got that all figured out we walked the city. After leaving Boston I couldn’t wait to see her again with me living in Tennessee and her living in the communist state of California it would be a while.
Soon after Boston, My Future Mother-in-law came to Tennessee to visit her son. I think it was more to met the man her daughter talked so highly of. I got to see baby pictures of Naomi. I was also asked the tricky question; does my daughter have any tattoos? Mmmm no comment at that moment and this moment.
As luck would have it Naomi was going to visit her other brother during Christmas break. And I would be in New Jersey with my family. After Christmas, Naomi took the train up to Jersey to spend time with me and my family. What a good Christmas present.
During this time frame there were quite a few timeless moments such as Naomi falling down my bedroom stairs. My dad making fun of her while cutting my cars exhaust pipes and slipping and almost cutting his thumb off. Like I said classic moments.
It would be a few months before I would get to see her again. And that moment was Naomi’s graduation from college in May of 2007. I got to spend a couple days in California with her got to see her graduate and met the rest of Naomi’s family. The day after graduation Naomi and I headed east in her Grand Cherokee to start our lives together.
The next months would be a slight foreshadowing of what was to come. The week after we arrived and started to settle in I had to go to a field problem for 2 weeks. I came home for 3 days and I left again for another 2 weeks. Then I came home and had to leave for the army’s version of playing army in Louisiana for 3 more weeks. It all went pretty smoothly except Naomi kicked our roommates out. In hind site it was for the best.
On Jan 8th 2008 we took the next step and married in a small ceremony attended by my parents my grand father and her mother. No more partying for me. Just kidding, as time will tell me liking to party is what in part made Aeva. On Feb 8th as a one month anniversary present I left for Iraq again. I came for mid tour which happens to be for some reason the time frame for army couples to conceive. Naomi and I were no different a few weeks after redeploying I was given the news Anthony you are going to be a father. I was elated I always wanted kids. The reality set in, oh shit I am going to be responsible for a whole other life. Feed it, change it, teach it from right or wrong. Boy oh boy was I scared. As time went on I came to the realization the hey if millions of stupid people can raise kids I am sure Some one as smart as Naomi and I can too.
Come one.. Come all See the Greatest show on Earth
Come see the show that is our family. Its a small one, but it has personality. And we all know that personality goes a far way. Naomi & I (the Authors) decided to make this blog so that You (the veiwer) can keep updates on our little piece of everything Aeva, and the on goings of our lives. So feel free to read about Us and comment if you like.
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