And Then There Were Four
If you’ll recall from my first post, major life changing event number 1 was having twins. Our family went from two, plus two dogs, to four humans and two dogs in what felt like overnight. It was actually 218 overnights, but who’s counting. Oh, wait, everyone is counting because 218 days (or nights) is only 31 weeks and one day. Babies typically cook for closer to 40 weeks and ours arrived somewhere around 9 weeks early, and that was just the beginning.
After quite an intense pregnancy and birth (read the whole birth story here), our perfect, teeny-tiny little babies were admitted into the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit). Neala (pronounced nay-lah) or BGA (Baby Girl A) as she was so fondly called arrived first at 2 lbs. 14 oz. She was all arms and legs, skin and bones with a nice hairy back–that’s just how preemies are. Two minutes later Rylan, or BBB (Baby Boy B, or as we liked to say Baby B Boy) arrived, also all legs and arms and long, long fingers. He was 3 lbs. 1 oz.
And there we would spend the next 78, yes SEVENTY EIGHT days! On day 7, Neala was diagnosed with medical (meaning it can be treated with medicine and not surgery) NEC, necrotizing enterocolitis. I remember when the doctor called us, we were sitting on the couch, watching the Packers beat the Cowboys and I became absolutely HYSTERICAL. I was sobbing so hard I could hardly breathe. After I calmed down a bit, it was explained to me that she had gas within her bowel wall which can cause the bowel to rupture if left untreated. She was on antibiotics for 10 or so days and was also given only IV nutrition, so no food at all for 10 days (I think it actually ended up being more like 14 days). She recovered nicely, although we are still dealing with some small side effects of NEC.
And then it was Christmas.
And then it was New Year’s. Hello 2014, you look just the same from inside the hospital as 2013.
Then we were moved to the ICN (intermediate care unit) which is EXACTLY the same as the NICU, just down the hall.
And then I turned 31.
And then it was Valentine’s day.
Little Rylan grew and grew. Toward the end of his stay he had to have bilateral inguinal hernia surgery and really took it like a champ. I don’t think he ever knew he even went into surgery.
We were pretty sure by the end of their stay that they were actually just going to grow old in their little cribs and that we’d all be there for the rest of time. The days all started to melt together. We’d arrive sometime between 9 a.m. and 11 a.m., scrub in, change some diapers, feed (either breastfeed or bottle feed), pump, drink water, forget to eat until it was around 3 p.m., and do it all again until we were kicked out at 6:30 p.m. for shift change. Sometimes, when we were really feeling crazy, we’d go back at 8 p.m. after shift change. Wild times, I know.
We even got to the point where we nicknamed the hospital parking lots. There was the GI Joe Lot (parking garage, obviously), Cheetarah lot (just beyond the parking garage), and the Decepticon lot (the north lot). Obviously. Don’t ask. We’re crazy.
Anyone who has spent any time in the NICU/ICN knows how draining it can be. Like I said before, it’s a total time warp and before you know it, 78 days have gone by and you’re late on your bills, your dogs are deprived, you haven’t cooked a meal in your kitchen in months, you car is out of gas, your yard is covered in weeds and dog crap, the dust bunnies in your house are so big you can see them peeking out the window every time you come home, and you’ve basically stopped caring what you look like or feel like most days, as long as your babies are OK.
I will say that the nurses, doctors and support staff could not have been more kind, compassionate, informed, or dedicated to our little munchkins and that was one of the small things that got us through on a day to day basis. We knew that even when we were not there, they were being well cared for. Thank you staff at UNM Hospital!
The other thing that saved us was having a sense of humor. I mean, it is kind of funny when you’re 3.5 lb baby boy shoots poop practically across the room, right?
And then it was over. Just like that. Those crazy people at the hospital sent us home with two children at 7 p.m. on a Tuesday night. And it was terrifying, but we’re getting the hang of it. There are things we don’t always get right, but that’s parenting, isn’t it. I don’t actually know. This is my first time, times two.
And the next day, Patrick had to turn in his list ranking his choices for residency.
And then Patrick turned 31. Happy birthday babe.
You’re the Heart of Us?
The last 4 months have been absolutely monumental in my life, probably the most monumental 4 months in my entire 31 years. A series of recent events have shaped the way I view my past, present, and future in such an intense way that I thought the rest of the world would want to hear about it. You do, right?
Well, you might not, but here you are reading anyway. I realize there may be only one or two of you reading this (you know who you are), and I’ll be the first to admit that starting this blog may be very self serving and could end up being very boring for my few readers. Oh well. Like I said, you’re here now and so am I, the choice to continue reading is all yours.
Aren’t you curious about these “amazing” events I’ve mentioned above, or why I’ve named my blog, “You’re the Heart of Us?”
I’ll start with the events (details in later posts):
Event Numero Uno (no, I do not speak Spanish at all and have completely forgotten the years and years of French I took): I gave birth to one boy and one girl. Yes, twins. No, they are not identical. (I get that question all the time. Apparently, it’s not obvious that they’re not identical just by the fact that one is a boy and one is a girl. Think about it people, IDENTICAL means they are exactly the same.
Event B: Just kidding…Event #2: My rockstar husband matched for his residency in orthopedic surgery. His program is 5 years and there was a 1 in 8 chance that we would have to move for his residency. We don’t have to move! He matched here at the University of New Mexico!
Event #3: My parents sold their property and home in the Pecos Canyon. My dad had lived on the same piece of property since he was 14 years old. And this my friends, is where the name of this here blog came from!
Way back in 1956, my grandparents, Newcomb (yes, all the grandkids actually called him by his first name) and Kitty (who conveniently had a first name that was quite well suited to being a grandmother) started Brush Ranch Camps, a residential performing arts camp for girls. In the 70s, they also started a boarding school to utilize the camp property during the winter months when funds tended to dry up and everyone was pretty much just cold and bored. Or something. My parents actually met at Brush Ranch and lived happily ever after, mostly. More about their history later.
Back to the blog name. Somewhere along the line, someone wrote a song for Brush Ranch that was sung by hordes of children for 54 (is that right?!) years and it went like this:
Brush Ranch, Brush Ranch
Brush Ranch, Brush Ranch
Brush Ranch a part of us,
now you’re the heart of us.
Please don’t forget us,
now that you’ve met us.
We’ll always sing your song,
where ‘er we roll along.
Brush Ranch, Brush Ranch
Brush Ranch Brush Ranch.
This is the song that never ends, it just goes on and on my friends…you get the point.
So…I’ve taken a line from this song that I’ve sung well over a million times because the events I listed above are the heart of me now, they are what shapes my past, present and future, and what will inform this blog. Don’t worry, I’ll go into detail about each and plan to share stories of my twins, my experience as a resident’s wife, and lots of family history as it relates to good old Brush Ranch Camps!