Just a few things....

I'm a terrible blogger.  I guess it's better than being terrible at the other roles in my life.  Wife, mother, student, nurse, knitter, blogger....  I think blogger is probably the safest to be terrible at.

Life is a lot different for me lately.  I feel the most like myself, though, since my son was born.  In case you don't know much about that, I will fill you in.

My beautiful son was born 2 years ago, by emergency C-section because my fluid was very low.  He was delivered at 8 pm on the dot.  He was 37 weeks, and he screamed the most beautiful screams when he was born.  He sounded strong, he looked strong at 7 lbs, 3 oz.  The pediatrician saw him, and told me he was perfect.  Then, some time went by....  I asked "Where is my baby?"  They explained to me he just needed some supplemental oxygen - no big deal.  Ok.... then it's midnight.  Still no baby, and he still needs oxygen.... and they are obtaining some blood gases.  I'm a nurse.  I'm a nurse, and I know all about obtaining blood gases.  Even though they are fluffing it up, and reassuring me, I know.  I know something is wrong.

At 6 am the next morning, I am facing 4 pediatricians, with concerned looks.  They aren't sure what's wrong - they think "... blah blah blah blah blah" (And yes, that's what I'm hearing.)  Have I mentioned - I am a nurse.  I know, I know, I know in my gut something is terribly wrong.  That is when I insist he be transferred to a different hospital.  My nurse brain kicked in, I threw out the mother's grief, and I insisted he be transferred.  Not only do I insist on this, but I give them my scientific arguments for why this should happen.  And they agreed.

So he was transferred.  He was intubated and placed on a ventilator within hours of arriving at the other facility.  Bilateral chest tubes were placed.  Drips were started.  My child had Primary Pulmonary Hypertension (PPHN), or as previously known, persistent fetal circulation.  He was sick.

I plan on writing more about this in the future.  I actually have a little dream to do a series on it.  I have a lot to say about it - a lot of feelings I want to share about it...... 

The good news is that I have a beautiful, perfectly healthy 2 year old now who has no lasting problems.  Unfortunately, I think it left me with the typical postpartum depression, mingled in with a little post traumatic stress disorder.  Just until recent months, I haven't felt myself.  Nothing off the wall, but just not myself.  Finally, finally, I feel like myself again.  And I still wish I were Buffy.