Happy Birthday Mr. Man! You’ll get cake and presents this weekend! I love you.
As I was lifted into an ambulance at seven months pregnant, I couldn’t help but recall my own childhood. Like most others, I dreamed of riding in a police car or ambulance. I hoped one day I would be able to explore where the EMT’s sat or maybe even hear the sirens blare. Hearing the sirens in real life was far less exciting, in fact it was terrifying. A routine ultrasound had revealed a major loss of fluids and a lack of movement from my baby. I wondered if someday she’d be mesmerized by emergency vehicles too.
The hour long ride to the hospital that was better equipped to handle a premature birth only gave me more time to worry. By the time I arrived at the Barbara Bush Children’s Hospital I had convinced myself that I was going to give birth that day. That didn’t happen though. I stayed there on bedrest under close monitoring. Nearly three weeks went past before they couldn’t hold off inducing me any longer. They did one last ultrasound before induction that estimated my daughter, who we had already named Kiera, at a little over five pounds. After 28 hours of labor Kiera was born at three pounds and five ounces.
Her brain was properly developed and she could breathe independently. Still, she needed to reach a healthy weight and she had to be capable of eating all of her meals independently before they could consider sending her home. They inserted a feeding tube and placed her securely in the incubator, while I prepared for the long journey ahead of us. I healed quickly and was released from the hospital, Kiera, on the other hand, would need to stay much longer. Our home was approximately an hour from this hospital and making that trip multiple times a day was not only illogical, but it would have drained our savings account when we had more urgent things we needed to buy for her.
It was overwhelming, Kiera had to be fed every three hours and while the nurses in the NICU were more than happy to help I felt that my job as her mother was to feed her. I wanted to avoid treating her any differently than a full-term baby would be treated. After considering countless possibilities and potential schedules I realized that this would be impossible. I vented to a nurse at the hospital and she told me that there was a Ronald McDonald House within walking distance from the hospital and that parents who could not travel, but had children admitted into the Barbara Bush Children’s Hospital could stay there for a nominal donation.
Toys, collectibles, and childhood memories are a hobby of mine. So I am going to expand on my hobby by documenting and reviewing new toys, subscription boxes and much more! I am a wife and mother of two so I will have a wide variety of items to review! I can’t wait to get started. My blog is still in the beginning stages but feel free to browse around and be sure to check out my ME & WE page . Thank you for joining me on my new venture!