Admitted

I was being admitted before the kidney infection was even confirmed.

The on-call doctor was very nice and comforting, but he was also direct when he said,

"We need to keep you pregnant. Not for the baby's sake, but for your sake".

It was decided that delivering the baby would mean weeks and weeks of recovery for me. I was 36 weeks along. Even though it wasn't quite full term, Bennett was a good size and would probably thrive if he was born. However, I was really struggling. It was getting scary. If I was to deliver, a vaginal delivery wasn't even an option. I would be having an emergency C-section if it came down to it.

The biggest concern was the fever. The things it was doing to Bennett's heart rate and mine weren't good. The problem: when you're pregnant there are very few things they can give you for a fever. Up until this point in my life, I had no idea a fever could make you feel so horrible. The headache it gave me made it hard to open my eyes and I could actually hear my head throbbing.

I know the Lord had a hand in what followed because as soon as I got to my room, I took a turn for the worse. I haven't stopped thanking him for making sure I was at the hospital before it got really bad.

The Tylenol I was given while I was being admitted didn't even touch the fever. I was shaking uncontrollably - to me, it felt like I was freezing to death. They finally decided to put me in an air- conditioned gown. This was a plastic gown that had vents all over it. They plugged a hose into the wall and it would blow cold air all over my body. To a person that feels like their freezing - that pretty much sounds like a death sentence. BUT, they didn't stop there. The nurses then filled surgical gloves with ice and placed them under my armpits and on my chest.

I couldn't stop crying. I just sobbed. Every nurse that came in my room just apologized profusely. I really wanted to be tough. I was willing to go through anything to keep Bennett safe, but the tears just kept coming.

Two hours after I was admitted, they called the on-call doctor back in. The fever hadn't budged and I was a wreck. Bennett's heart rate and mine were both still climbing. He finally ordered an ultrasound and told me I might be sent up to ICU.

I could NOT believe this was happening. I still can't believe it did happen. How did I ever end up so sick!?

They took the ice packs off and shut off the air. I couldn't help but be slightly relieved. I was put back into a wheelchair and wheeled down to Radiology. The ultrasound they did wasn't for Bennett. They wanted to get a good look at both my kidneys. If there was any sort of abscess on my kidneys, I was ICU bound.

In all honestly, I don't remember a lot about the ultrasound. I don't remember who did the ultrasound or what was even said while we were in the room. The one thing I do remember is Matt's face. We've had ups and downs in our marriage. There have been a few worrisome times, but (until the kidney infection) I've never seen Matt look genuinely worried. Matt has always had an ongoing unstoppable faith that things will work out, but I didn't see that look of peace in his eyes this time. He was worried. Really worried.

That was truly terrifying.

I have no memory of being wheeled back into my room. I have absolutely no idea how those nurses got me back into my bed. I do remember that when I got back, they decided to give me some pain meds to, hopefully, get me to relax and sleep. Things after that got even hazier. I remember watching Matt and realizing how late it was. Somehow it had gotten to be 3am.

For some reason, I remember the prompting vividly. It was as if someone had said it directly in my ear. I needed a blessing and I needed my dad here for it. I told Matt what I wanted and even though he looked a little nervous about calling at 3am, he called my dad.

The next thing I knew, it was daylight.

The E.R.

 

There was a knock at the door.

 

I had completely lost track of time. Had I fallen asleep? I didn't feel rested at all, but I must've finally fallen asleep. Or passed out from sheer exhaustion.

 

I went to the door. It was my parents. They had come to pick up the dessert I could no longer take to the family reunion. After opening the door, I walked right over to the couch and sat down. I couldn't stay standing without getting light-headed.

 

My mom took one look at me and said, "I think you need to go to the Emergency Room."

 

I thought I needed to too. However, the fear of being told it actually WAS just the flu and THE ONLY thing I could do was rest, was too much. Nope. I was staying at home. By tomorrow I would feel fine.

 

I needed to make it to Sunday. It was Father's Day. My Kneader's Chunky Cinnamon bread was in the fridge ready for Matt's Father's Day Breakfast. All of Sloane's presents were wrapped for her second birthday celebration.

 

A trip to the Emergency Room was out of the question.

 

My parents took my dessert and left. I went back to bed and alternated between crying and sleeping. My right side throbbed with pain. My fever was out of control, but every time I checked my temperature it said, "99.8" degrees. By this point, I was convinced that Bennett must have dropped into an awkward position. I had battled sciatica my whole pregnancy. My right side had always taken the worst hit. Sciatica and the flu - could this pregnancy get anymore difficult?!

 

Looking back, the pregnancy was the problem. Every symptom that pointed to a Kidney Infection, also could be blamed on the pregnancy. This was my fourth pregnancy in five years. My body had been through a lot. Every time a new symptom started, I immediately found a logical way to blame the pregnancy.

 

This was something that would be repeated to me by multiple nurses during my hospital stay.

 

When Matt got home from work, I tried to eat. I really tried to "MAKE" myself feel better. I wanted so badly to be well. I forced myself to sit up in bed and eat. I showered and tried to do my hair. I ignored the dizziness and the shivers. My thinking was that if I started to go through the motions, my body would just follow along.

 

Night came and sleep didn't. I had fully expected to be better by morning.

 

I wasn't. It was worse. But I wasn't ready to admit that to ANYONE.

 

I tried desperately to get ready for my family to come over that afternoon. Matt ended up doing most of the work. He got everything out, set everything up, cooked pizzas and cleaned the house. All the while, I sat propped up in a chair getting more and more sick.

 

Again, I forced myself to get somewhat presentable. I needed to look better than I did the day before. If anyone found out that I was getting sicker, I knew they'd drag me to the hospital. I didn't want that to happen. I was still worried they would tell me it was just the flu and to get over it. How embarrassing would it be to be told that you were just a wuss?

 

Everyone came over and all seemed fine. But, by the end of the party, I knew something was terribly wrong.

 

Bennett wasn't moving.

 

Bennett was my most active baby. He still is. The child never stops moving. He wiggles when he's awake and wiggles when he's asleep. Once he first started fluttering, he didn't stop.

 

My fever had especially made him freak out. I was convinced it was because I just shook so bad. I thought that the shaking made it really hard for him to stay comfortable. At the time, it seemed likely.

 

But now, nothing.

 

I watched from my chair while Sloane opened her presents. Third birthdays really seem to be the first time that they realize that the whole party is just for them. Sloane loved it. She loved her gifts and she especially loved all the attention. We had big plans for the next week. Tuesday was her actual birthday and Friday we were planning on taking everyone to Cowabunga Bay. Her celebration was far from over.

 

Everyone left. I was so relieved. I could finally go to bed and get better. However, I was still really worried about Bennett's movements.

 

That worry only escalated later on.

 

 I started bleeding.

 

I didn't cry. I didn't get upset. I looked Matt in the eye and told him to take me to the E.R.

 

Even though the bleeding was scary, it was oddly comforting at the same time. As weird as that sounds, it finally gave me a reason to the hospital. Ever since Wednesday, the "I just don't feel good" reason wasn't enough for me. I didn't want to burden anyone. The bleeding, however, was a legitimate concern. No one would could blame me for wanting to get checked out.

 

My sister drove all the way back over to our house and we left to go to the hospital.

 

Neither of us spoke on the drive there. We parked and walked into the E.R. It was empty. The lady in the window asked us what she could do for us.

 

"I have the flu and it's not getting any better."

 

"Are you pregnant?"

 

"Yes" (As if the huge belly didn't give it away).

 

"Go up to Labor and Delivery. If they want us to see you down here, they'll send you back down."

 

I wasn't that surprised. I knew they'd want the baby monitored, which is what I wanted too.

 

By the time we got up to Labor and Delivery, I was a mess. I hadn't been on my feet that much in days. I was staggering, shivering and crying.

 

The triage nurse's look said it all.

 

She thought I was in labor. She was kind and her initial reaction was excitement, but as my story unfolded, her excitement turned into genuine concern.

 

She immediately took us to a room and slapped a fetal monitor on my stomach.

 

Her look changed again.

 

This time she was out rightly distressed.

 

Bennett's heart rate was high. Way too high. I wasn't sure what to think about this. Everything I had read about pregnancy seemed to say that a low fetal heart rate was a concern. I had no idea what a high heart rate meant. She checked my pulse. It was at this point that she starting asking a bunch of questions. I was slightly confused by them all because they didn't seem to relate to the flu at all. She finally put a heart monitor on the end of my finger. After a minute or so, an alarm started going off. Another minute passed and a different alarm sounded. The first alarm indicated that Bennett's heart rate was too high. The second would indicate that my heart rate was way too high as well. These alarms would become common background noises for the next couple of days. She told us she was going to go grab a mask, just in case it was the flu. That was fine and I actually thought about maybe having her grab one for Matt. I quickly decided against it. If it was the flu, he had likely already been exposed.

 

When she came back in, I immediately noticed she wasn't wearing a mask.

 

She had me sit up and she started pounding on my back. I cried out in pain. She and Matt helped me lay back down. She then checked my temperature. "103 degrees".

 

It was starting to become obvious that whatever I had was NOT the flu.

Week 35

Something was wrong.

I couldn't put my finger on it, but something was wrong.

I just didn't feel good at all. My appetite was gone. My energy was non-existent and I had little or no patience to offer to my littles.

Thursday got really bad. I was in pain. My right side hurt all over. I remember wondering if it was the start of contractions. No. That wasn't it. The pain was too isolated. What was it? It almost felt like a kidney infection. I had had a kidney infection before. A few months before I got pregnant with Holynd. It was horrible. I fainted because the pain was so bad.

This couldn't be a kidney infection. It didn't hurt bad enough.

That night the fever hit. I was shivering uncontrollably. Suddenly, it all made sense.

I had caught the flu.

I shivered and shook all night long. I ached everywhere. Sleep did not happen.

I got out of bed Friday morning and immediately called my doctor. I explained to the nurse what was going on. She confirmed my suspicions. It was the middle of summer and I had, somehow, caught the flu.

I was really concerned about the fever. She asked if I had been taking my temperature.
"Yes. It's always right around 99 - 100 degrees."

"That's pretty normal. Fluids and rest. Call Monday morning if you're not feeling better".

"What about a bladder infection or a kidney infection?"

"Oh. You'd have to be pretty sick to start running a fever from either one of those."

So that's what I did. I rested. Well, as much as a person can rest with three kids running around making demands. I tried my best to put on a brave face, but I was not doing well. I couldn't shake the feeling that something else was wrong. I began to wonder if this fever was going to send me right into labor. But, at that point in time, I felt like I had done all I could do. I had called my doctor and I was trying to rest.

I desperately wanted to get better before Saturday. We had a big family reunion Saturday. I had ordered a dessert from one of my favorite places for the occasion. Matt was even taking the day off to go with us.

By the time I got into bed Friday, I knew I wasn't going to be able to go. Little did I know, this was only the beginning of the downward spiral. That whole night was awful. I was forcing myself to drink as much water as I could. I kept taking Tylenol the minute I was able to take it. None of it was helping. I was getting sicker.

It was another night of no sleep. I felt like someone had beaten me with a bat. Worst of all was this horrid headache that would not go away. It made me dizzy and I had trouble staying on my feet.

I called my mom. There would be no family reunion for me. Matt knew I was in no condition to take care of kids, so he took the kids to work with him. So I laid in bed and cried. I couldn't take care of my kids. I couldn't take care of myself. I just laid there and prayed, "Let this pass. I need to be a mom. This isn't fair to my kids. Why would You let me get sick? I was already struggling as it was. If anything, let it just be me. Do not let Matt and the kids get sick".

It wouldn't pass. It would only get worse. My poor little Bennett was just along for the ride.

5 minutes for September

I love September and October.

 

My absolute favorite time of the year.

 

I'm going to try and take 5 minutes to blog our happenings so far.

 

So much as happened and we're only 9 days into the month.

 

I love it.

 

Benna was blessed on September 1st. It was perfect. He was so sweet dressed in white. These pictures make me cry. He's perfect. Benna and I went through a lot together while I was pregnant. I'm just so glad he's here and safe. We started calling him Benna because that's how Maddox pronounces his name. Hearing Maddox talk to his little brother is the most amazing thing ever. Maddox loves to tell Benna about his favorite things. Trucks, cars, squirt guns, juice, bouncy balls and Silly Putty are some of his favorite subjects. Sloane likes to tell Maddox that "Benna can't talk!", but Maddox doesn't care. He chats with Benna all day long.

 

 

 

 

My house is full on children who love to learn. Holynd and Sloane have been looking forward to Preschool since June.

 

Holynd. My little Holl-e-wood. She's still so bright and smart. She often tells us that she's a "scientist" and that she wants to "learn everything!".  I can not get over what a wonderful little girl she is.

 

My Baloanie. I could barely keep it together while I got her ready for her first day. I sobbed after she left. Sloane has more determination then most people can wish for. Her Preschool teacher just loves her (so far).

 

Sloane also got to experience her first day of dance class.

 

It didn't go well, but she had a good time. She spent the first 20 minutes running laps around the dance class, then the next 10 minutes hanging upside down on the barre. When the teacher finally got her to stand in her spot, she then decided to torture all the girls who were standing next to year. I ended up having to drag her out of her class kicking and screaming so that I could give her a time-out. Not my greatest moment. Sloane will tell you that the class was a blast!

 

My 5 minutes is up. Sloane is begging for a snack; Maddox is downstairs kicking his walls; and Bennett will be up any minute wanting to be fed.

 

 

Three years with you!

Sloane is.... well, she's Sloane.

 

She's a spitfire.

 

When I asked her what kind of party she wanted, she said,

 

"Orange".

 

That was it. That's all I had to work with.

 

June is my month for Peterson parties, so I decided to have an "Orange" themed party. I wanted to give Sloane exactly what she asked for.

 

The problem: I was starting to get sick.

 

At the time, I thought that I was just having a really rough third trimester. I was becoming pretty certain that I was going to have him early. That was the only explanation. I felt like my body was just starting to shut down. I was exhausted and in pain most of the time. I think I cried almost every night. 

 

But I wasn't going to let that keep me from giving Sloane her Orange Party.

 

 

I was pretty pleased with how it turned out. We had Taco Soup, which is one of Sloane's favorites. She calls it, "Bean Soup with Meatballs". Matt was amazing and did most of the setting up, since I was pretty uncomfortable.

 

Sloane is my baby girl. She always keeps us laughing. Sloane is spunky and stubborn, but also incredibly sweet. Last year, we were a tiny bit worried about our Sloane. She wasn't talking very much. I laugh to think we even worried about it! She talks non-stop and is very very smart. I can't believe she's about to start Pre-School. The month Sloane was born was a pretty incredible month for Matt and I. Matt started a new job and that was a pretty big turning point for us. Having two kids was, also, a pretty big adjustment. I think I would've died if someone had told us we'd be having another baby just 16 months later.  

 

As for Sloane's birthday parties, I was planning on having the Petersons over to celebrate on the second Sunday, then my parents over the next week to celebrate Sloane's birthday and Father's day.

 

By that point, things were getting a little rough.

 

But that's a whole other story.