Colin
Keith
Evelyn
Onto something completely different for the next post!
Sunday, October 23, 2011
More Messy Eating!
I promise to limit my proof of just how messy three babies can be... but I had to share these, taken tonight. It was my mom's birthday dinner and Edward's lasagna was her special request. The babies loved it, too!
Colin
Keith
Evelyn
Onto something completely different for the next post!
Colin
Keith
Evelyn
Onto something completely different for the next post!
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Welcome to the table!
For the past few nights, we've fed the babies a modified version of our own dinner at the table. They are SO excited to sit with us. Tonight was their first sampling of tomato sauce... which, as you can see, necessitated a communal bath.
Colin is doing much better. Thanks for everyone's emails and best wishes! We've stopped the prednisone and the ventolin every four hours, and his nose isn't running anymore either. I guess it's no surprise that as soon as my allergies improved, his did too. We're watching him closely, but he certainly seems to be feeling good and everyone is sleeping better at night!
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Trials And Tribulations
Regular readers of our blog will know that for the past three months, we've struggled to identify and treat Colin's breathing issues. We've been back and forth to the pediatrician's, but we usually return pretty promptly to square one: 2am ventolin and saline treatments and a lot of runny noses, huffing and puffing throughout the day.
Possibly exacerbated by a small cold he may have caught from me, Colin's breathing issues got dramatically worse over Monday night. He started to wheeze heavily and his breathing was laboured. At 2am Tuesday morning, I brought him to the Emergency at the closest hospital. A chest x-ray revealed that his left lung was murky, so he was diagnosed with pneumonia, given a ventolin mask and antibiotics and we were home by 6am.
But later yesterday afternoon, his breathing got much worse. His chest and ribs were heaving with every breath and he looked panicked and was very agitated - symptoms I know all too well. His wheezing was audible across the room. I rushed him to the Children's Hospital and they treated him for acute respiratory distress. We had six more ventolin masks and two rounds of inhalers over the course of the next ten hours as well as a dose of prednisone. His breathing and wheezing showed a slow but steady improvement while he was in the hospital, and we're doing another four days of prednisone at home along with his ventolin and a "maintenance" inhaler to get his lungs in better shape. Another x-ray showed atelectasis , which is pretty common for asthmatics. The maintenance inhaler should help reduce the problem, and hopefully keep it at bay. It could take three weeks for that inhaler to take effect, so we were told that we might end up back at Emergency before then.
Colin had a very peaceful night (FINALLY!!), but this morning he was extremely wheezy and laboured in his breathing, so back we went. They gave him more ventolin and monitored him for two hours. We were home in time for lunch :) His appetite over the past few days was poor, but this was compounded by his inability to eat because he couldn't breath.
But I am so proud of my little guy... though the three nose and throat suctioning episodes, the near-constant breathing checks and monitoring, the various masks, the serious lack of sleep, the two chest x-rays (in a contraption like this) he was still all smiles and charmed everyone he met. I even got him to raise his little arms and pump his fists in the air during the x-ray while doing his favourite "Go Colin!" chant.
Here's hoping we nipped this in the bud, and he'll continue to improve. Now, we have to figure out what's triggering his asthma. Edward and I have the devastating thought that it could be a little four legged pup.... Sigh.
Possibly exacerbated by a small cold he may have caught from me, Colin's breathing issues got dramatically worse over Monday night. He started to wheeze heavily and his breathing was laboured. At 2am Tuesday morning, I brought him to the Emergency at the closest hospital. A chest x-ray revealed that his left lung was murky, so he was diagnosed with pneumonia, given a ventolin mask and antibiotics and we were home by 6am.
But later yesterday afternoon, his breathing got much worse. His chest and ribs were heaving with every breath and he looked panicked and was very agitated - symptoms I know all too well. His wheezing was audible across the room. I rushed him to the Children's Hospital and they treated him for acute respiratory distress. We had six more ventolin masks and two rounds of inhalers over the course of the next ten hours as well as a dose of prednisone. His breathing and wheezing showed a slow but steady improvement while he was in the hospital, and we're doing another four days of prednisone at home along with his ventolin and a "maintenance" inhaler to get his lungs in better shape. Another x-ray showed atelectasis , which is pretty common for asthmatics. The maintenance inhaler should help reduce the problem, and hopefully keep it at bay. It could take three weeks for that inhaler to take effect, so we were told that we might end up back at Emergency before then.
Colin had a very peaceful night (FINALLY!!), but this morning he was extremely wheezy and laboured in his breathing, so back we went. They gave him more ventolin and monitored him for two hours. We were home in time for lunch :) His appetite over the past few days was poor, but this was compounded by his inability to eat because he couldn't breath.
But I am so proud of my little guy... though the three nose and throat suctioning episodes, the near-constant breathing checks and monitoring, the various masks, the serious lack of sleep, the two chest x-rays (in a contraption like this) he was still all smiles and charmed everyone he met. I even got him to raise his little arms and pump his fists in the air during the x-ray while doing his favourite "Go Colin!" chant.
Here's hoping we nipped this in the bud, and he'll continue to improve. Now, we have to figure out what's triggering his asthma. Edward and I have the devastating thought that it could be a little four legged pup.... Sigh.
Monday, September 26, 2011
Sunday, September 25, 2011
Birth Story - A Year Overdue...
I realized that I never posted our birth story, and I figured it would fitting to do so on their 1st birthday. Sleep deprivation and the general daily grind may mean that I can barely string together two intelligible words, but I will never forget the day they were born.
I went to bed at around 11pm on Friday, September 24th, feeling pretty good. I was 31 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Two days prior, I had a very routine prenatal appointment, and I was feeling very confident - as were they - that I'd make it to my c-section date of October 15th. I was so confident, that I didn't even pack our hospital bag. This was a mistake.
At 2am, I woke to a lot of sharp pain. In fact, I was already dragging myself out of bed while I was still partially asleep; a pretty major undertaking at that point of my pregnancy. I remember standing beside the bed, wobbly and groggy, trying to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, my water broke. I yelled for Edward, who literally jumped out of bed, and we both stood there, wide-eyed and mouths agape as we tried to process the situation. Every movement I made created more of a mess, so Edward grabbed a huge towel, and, thusly "diapered", we began a somewhat reasonable conversation about what to do next. Well, Edward was being reasonable. I couldn't decide if I was nervous, excited or terrified, so I settled on all three.
He asked about the contents of the woefully empty hospital bag: "What do we need?". "We need the three little stuffed monkeys for their incubators and the camera," I said, helpfully. "Don't you need, like, underwear and a toothbrush?" he replied. Um, right. Thank God he's on the payroll!
With a few necessities assembled and a garbage bag spread over the front passenger's seat, we drove the 10 minutes to the hospital. I gingerly waddled into the Emergency, looking for a wheelchair as Edward parked the car. It was early Saturday morning in late September, and the Emergency was full of university kids in various stages of inebriation and recovery. The room went silent as I slowly approached the triage nurse and informed her of my predicament. Then, the room erupted in mayhem. The kids were pushing their intoxicated friends out of wheelchairs which were careening madly in my direction. I found myself sitting in one, rescued from the exuberant crowd by a nurse who was just going off duty. She pushed me to Labour and Delivery just minutes ahead of Edward, who couldn't understand why he got a standing ovation, and cries of "Go Daddy!" when he entered the Emergency Room in search of me.
I was put on monitors and the babies were located. I wasn't dilated, and was having random contractions, so they decided they would wait to see if they could hold off labour for a few hours or even days to give the babies more time to mature. I sent Edward home, and tried to sleep. Deep down, I was a little disappointed that I'd have to wait a little longer to meet them. But of course, I wanted them to be as healthy as possible, so I mentally prepared myself to hunker down for a longer haul. At 8am, the High Risk OB materialized at my bedside to inform me that they were, in fact, going to go ahead with an emergency c-section. Baby A's ruptured sac wasn't replentishing its amniotic fluid and she thought it was only a matter of time until I went into full blown labour. I called Edward to come in, and he joined me moments before I was prepped for surgery.
I was wheeled into Labour and Delivery for my spinal epidural. It involved a resident anesthetist who had a REALLY hard time finding the right spot, so he tried many spots without success. Finally, the senior anesthetist pushed him out of the way with quite a cutting remark and finished the job within a matter of minutes. I was really emotional by this point, and was so relieved when Edward joined me and took my hand. We waited a few minutes while the teams of nurses, obstetricians, respiration techs and neonatologists assembled, and then without much fanfare, I heard the indignant cries of Baby A, followed by Babies B & C. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. They whisked the babies away, and got to work stitching me up. At one point, the OB asked us if we knew the genders of our babies. We didn't, so she announced that we had two boys and a girl.
Edward had the camera, and he was allowed to see the babies almost right away and take their pictures, which we have shared before:
Colin
Keith
Evelyn
These pictures were the first time I'd laid eyes on our babies, and I couldn't believe how tiny and still they looked - well, except for Keith, who looked MIGHTY unhappy at having been turfed off his gravy train, where he had spent the previous seven months lolling about while the other two fought over the scraps. Everyone was congratulating us, but as I waited for a chance to catch a glimpse of our babies as they rolled by on their way to the NICU, I didn't feel at all celebratory. The nurse who was with us kept anxiously scanning the hall, telling us she was sure the babies would be by any minute. Edward was allowed to see them, and reported that they were "working on them" in the delivery room because they had more space there than in the NICU. These are not things one wants to hear about one's children. But eventually, after several stressful hours, I finally got to see them as they came by, one by one. Under their masks, hats and wires I couldn't see too much, but what I did see of them looked tiny, yes... but perfect.
Edward at Colin's bedside on September 26
Despite some initial breathing issues, primarily with Keith, once the babies began to thrive, their improvement was astounding. They gained weight, started to eat their feeds, breastfed like champions and charmed all the nurses. Looking at the babies around us in the hospital, we knew how lucky we were.
Before we knew it, they went from being in the excellent care of the nurses, to being in our nervous, sleep-deprived and wholly inexperienced care. Somehow, we all managed to survive this first year. Somehow we managed to wade through the mountains of dirty diapers, clothes and bottles. The 3am groggy feeds, the hours spent cuddling a colicky baby, cleaning up after yet another bad reflux episode and kissing bumped heads and bruised knees. We made it because our friends and family shared all those moments with us: the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Because those desperate and tearful late-night phonecalls always brought sympathy, advice and help. And because we have always viewed our babies as an incredible gift, no matter what the time of night or the issue at hand.
We are so very, very lucky.
HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY, BABIES A, B AND C!!!
I went to bed at around 11pm on Friday, September 24th, feeling pretty good. I was 31 weeks and 4 days pregnant. Two days prior, I had a very routine prenatal appointment, and I was feeling very confident - as were they - that I'd make it to my c-section date of October 15th. I was so confident, that I didn't even pack our hospital bag. This was a mistake.
At 2am, I woke to a lot of sharp pain. In fact, I was already dragging myself out of bed while I was still partially asleep; a pretty major undertaking at that point of my pregnancy. I remember standing beside the bed, wobbly and groggy, trying to figure out what was going on. Suddenly, my water broke. I yelled for Edward, who literally jumped out of bed, and we both stood there, wide-eyed and mouths agape as we tried to process the situation. Every movement I made created more of a mess, so Edward grabbed a huge towel, and, thusly "diapered", we began a somewhat reasonable conversation about what to do next. Well, Edward was being reasonable. I couldn't decide if I was nervous, excited or terrified, so I settled on all three.
He asked about the contents of the woefully empty hospital bag: "What do we need?". "We need the three little stuffed monkeys for their incubators and the camera," I said, helpfully. "Don't you need, like, underwear and a toothbrush?" he replied. Um, right. Thank God he's on the payroll!
With a few necessities assembled and a garbage bag spread over the front passenger's seat, we drove the 10 minutes to the hospital. I gingerly waddled into the Emergency, looking for a wheelchair as Edward parked the car. It was early Saturday morning in late September, and the Emergency was full of university kids in various stages of inebriation and recovery. The room went silent as I slowly approached the triage nurse and informed her of my predicament. Then, the room erupted in mayhem. The kids were pushing their intoxicated friends out of wheelchairs which were careening madly in my direction. I found myself sitting in one, rescued from the exuberant crowd by a nurse who was just going off duty. She pushed me to Labour and Delivery just minutes ahead of Edward, who couldn't understand why he got a standing ovation, and cries of "Go Daddy!" when he entered the Emergency Room in search of me.
I was put on monitors and the babies were located. I wasn't dilated, and was having random contractions, so they decided they would wait to see if they could hold off labour for a few hours or even days to give the babies more time to mature. I sent Edward home, and tried to sleep. Deep down, I was a little disappointed that I'd have to wait a little longer to meet them. But of course, I wanted them to be as healthy as possible, so I mentally prepared myself to hunker down for a longer haul. At 8am, the High Risk OB materialized at my bedside to inform me that they were, in fact, going to go ahead with an emergency c-section. Baby A's ruptured sac wasn't replentishing its amniotic fluid and she thought it was only a matter of time until I went into full blown labour. I called Edward to come in, and he joined me moments before I was prepped for surgery.
I was wheeled into Labour and Delivery for my spinal epidural. It involved a resident anesthetist who had a REALLY hard time finding the right spot, so he tried many spots without success. Finally, the senior anesthetist pushed him out of the way with quite a cutting remark and finished the job within a matter of minutes. I was really emotional by this point, and was so relieved when Edward joined me and took my hand. We waited a few minutes while the teams of nurses, obstetricians, respiration techs and neonatologists assembled, and then without much fanfare, I heard the indignant cries of Baby A, followed by Babies B & C. It was the most beautiful sound in the world. They whisked the babies away, and got to work stitching me up. At one point, the OB asked us if we knew the genders of our babies. We didn't, so she announced that we had two boys and a girl.
Edward had the camera, and he was allowed to see the babies almost right away and take their pictures, which we have shared before:
Colin
Keith
Evelyn
These pictures were the first time I'd laid eyes on our babies, and I couldn't believe how tiny and still they looked - well, except for Keith, who looked MIGHTY unhappy at having been turfed off his gravy train, where he had spent the previous seven months lolling about while the other two fought over the scraps. Everyone was congratulating us, but as I waited for a chance to catch a glimpse of our babies as they rolled by on their way to the NICU, I didn't feel at all celebratory. The nurse who was with us kept anxiously scanning the hall, telling us she was sure the babies would be by any minute. Edward was allowed to see them, and reported that they were "working on them" in the delivery room because they had more space there than in the NICU. These are not things one wants to hear about one's children. But eventually, after several stressful hours, I finally got to see them as they came by, one by one. Under their masks, hats and wires I couldn't see too much, but what I did see of them looked tiny, yes... but perfect.
Edward at Colin's bedside on September 26
Despite some initial breathing issues, primarily with Keith, once the babies began to thrive, their improvement was astounding. They gained weight, started to eat their feeds, breastfed like champions and charmed all the nurses. Looking at the babies around us in the hospital, we knew how lucky we were.
Before we knew it, they went from being in the excellent care of the nurses, to being in our nervous, sleep-deprived and wholly inexperienced care. Somehow, we all managed to survive this first year. Somehow we managed to wade through the mountains of dirty diapers, clothes and bottles. The 3am groggy feeds, the hours spent cuddling a colicky baby, cleaning up after yet another bad reflux episode and kissing bumped heads and bruised knees. We made it because our friends and family shared all those moments with us: the good, the bad and the downright ugly. Because those desperate and tearful late-night phonecalls always brought sympathy, advice and help. And because we have always viewed our babies as an incredible gift, no matter what the time of night or the issue at hand.
We are so very, very lucky.
HAPPY FIRST BIRTHDAY, BABIES A, B AND C!!!
Sunday, September 18, 2011
Birthday Party!!
Evelyn strikes a pose in her ladybug birthday shirt
Keith = MORE!
Colin spies the cake
Thanks to everyone for coming and making the babies' first birthday party such a fun time! The babies were absolutely wonderful, and happily mingled with all their well-wishers. There is no doubt that these guys LOVE a party :)
More pictures to come - these were the first ones off our camera.
Wednesday, September 14, 2011
....And We Found Our Nap
Flexibility is key in this whole baby business! The babies are snoring quietly as I type. Except for poor Colin, who is snuffling and gasping. I think this is why they've decided to nap - Colin is now coughing a lot of the night, and is keeping everyone up. They're exhausted, and so are we :( I took him to the doctor yesterday, who proclaimed him "a mess". With his persistent and spreading eczema, his perpetually runny nose and his wheezing, he certainly looks worse for wear. So, the doctor sent us home with a stronger medication for his skin and a Ventolin inhaler, and diagnosed him with asthma. As an asthmatic myself, this is a hard thing to hear. Hopefully, it will clear up as he gets older.
We raised his crib even higher, and last night at 12:30 gave him saline nasal spray and then again at 2:30 and tried out his inhaler. I'm not sure if any of this is helping, as his allergies seem to come and go in waves. I'm currently battling through a small cold, so here's hoping everyone is healthy for Saturday, and that we get a little rest in between!
We raised his crib even higher, and last night at 12:30 gave him saline nasal spray and then again at 2:30 and tried out his inhaler. I'm not sure if any of this is helping, as his allergies seem to come and go in waves. I'm currently battling through a small cold, so here's hoping everyone is healthy for Saturday, and that we get a little rest in between!
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