As Layla gets older (she is now 18 months), her tantrums are greatly reducing. We believe this is largely due to her speech development. She has quite a large range of words and is now putting together simple two-word sentences ("Hi daddy" or "Mine mommy" or "No thankyou").
Keith and I speak to the children properly. We don't use short forms or baby talk. Noah has been followed by a SLP since his infancy so we know how to speak to a child properly. That being said, it is strange how speech develops. Often, children come up with their own words for things. For example, Layla will often refer to her soother as a "soo". Clearly a shortform of the longer word we use for the pacifier. She will eventually master the full word, so this is the mid-point.
That said, where do they come up with some baby words?!?! For example, Layla refers to her baby blanket (and sometimes her soother) as her "nana". She isn't the first baby to refer to a lovey or soother with this word. My neice calls her soother a "nana" as well. I am not really sure where this came from - we still refer to her blanket and soother with the proper words (although I do find myself now asking her where her nana is). She clearly made up the word herself and labelled the objects consistently with this word. I find it very interesting. I would love to know the reasoning behind this.
She also has taken to using the word "No" a lot but refuses to say "yes". She does, however nod - which helps.
Another confusing aspect of speech development is her ability to say different names. To her, everyone is "Layla" (except mommy and daddy). Yet, if you ask her to give an object to a specific person, she will do it right, 100% of the time. At first I thought she was goofing around by calling Noah by her own name, but she has been doing this for months now!
Infant development is amazing. I find daycare fast tracks their development, especially when surrounded by older peers. Noah, for example, is learning french and both children are continually expanding their sign language skills. As fun as it is to watch them grow-up, I am always a bit sad when they learn to say a word properly. Noah used to refer to himself as "wo-wa" and I really miss that! But to see how clearly he can articulate his thoughts and feelings is amazing. Yet, you continually run into ways his speech is still limited by his age. For example, if he is mad he will say "I'm not feeling happy...I'm mad". It is a more roundabout way to say what he really means.
Of course, along with developed speech comes more complex reasoning and thus, resistance to parenting....but that is another post...
Tuesday, October 18, 2011
Tuesday, August 30, 2011
Noah's operation
I thought I would share some of Noah's journey, since everyone has been so supportive and kind. It was a tough week - but we are very thankful for the doctors and nurses who cared for Noah. We can see a difference in him already and I finally feel that he will be ok. We have had a sense of dread hanging over us for the past three years - knowing he was walking around with a partially repaired heart. We were always waiting for the other shoe to drop. It is very hard to relax in that situation!
Tuesday August 23rd: The night before surgery
We had a hotel room booked, a 5 minute walk to the hospital. We had to be at the hospital for 6am and since we live an hour away, it was easier to just sleep 5 min's away. My mom had come to stay with Layla and I was worried about leaving her but she smiled and waved as we left the house. Pre-op, Noah couldn't eat past midnight, so we wanted to make sure he had a good dinner. Keith made a favourite meal of his and he sits down and pushes it away. Keith and I were terrified - Noah was booked for surgery at about 1pm the next day. If his last meal was lunch, rather than dinner....we were scared for the following day with a starving preschooler. Luckily Keith bought Boost (disgusting meal replacement beverage) and protein "chocolate bars". So on the ride down to the hotel Noah munched and drank. Not a lot but enough to keep us happy. We think he knew something was up and was just too nervous to eat.
Driving into Toronto was awesome - he was enthralled with the tall buildings and general bustle of the downtown core. I didn't really think our hometown was a "small town" but now that I see his reaction to Toronto, I suppose I have to face facts.
After a particularly stressful parking event which involved a very large Buick Enclave and a very tiny parking garage with minimal turning room, we arrived at our hotel which was just FILLED with children. I have never seen anything like it. They even had a check-in desk for kids where they get a toy and a book. Our room was nice with a king bed but we didn't have time to enjoy. We had to get Noah to have his bath with the special scrub brush for the OR and get him to bed! Sadly, the mixture of the strange bed and having his parents in the room with him made him wide awake! It was nearly 9:30pm before he fell asleep and hogged the bed for the rest of the night.
All too soon we were called to the operating room. We had to give him some medication to make him a bit loopy so he wouldn't be scared of going into the surgical suite alone. Keith carried him down and we got him to a bed just as the medication was kicking in. He kept insisting on holding James (his train from the Thomas set) but he also kept trying to watch an infomercial that was inexplicably playing in the holding area before the OR. I tried to recite his favourite bedtime stories but was way too teary to do so. He looked at me clearly at one point and I was trying so hard not to cry. I didn't want to scare him. Keith took over the story telling. After meeting the OR team, they wheeled him away (with James!). I can't tell you how terrifying it is to send off your seemingly healthy child into cardiac surgery where you know he will be on bypass. We were both very upset, but got it together after he was wheeled away and we settled into the waiting room for a long wait. We anticipated we would be seeing our surgeon around 1pm. It was now 8am.
Time passed and aside from being disgusted by the family beside us who felt that the table I had my coffee on was their personal foot stool (they had bare feet!), it went relatively quickly. Around 11 or 12 (i lost sense of time) I saw our surgeon. He brought us to the back room to tell us good and bad news. Good news: They cleared out MOST of the tissue that was blocking his outflow tract - there was some on the aortic valve that he couldn't get off without damaging the valve. His pressure gradient had gone from 120-150 down to 15. His valve no longer was leaky. He received no extra blood products (other than those needed for bypass) and he was extubated (this is a change from even his first surgery - they extubate in the OR which speeds up their discharge process by many days). Bad news: there is a tear in one of the leaflets of the aortic valve. He admitted that he thought he did it at first but upon examination saw the stress on the valve was too great and this tore it. He could have fixed it but it isn't leaking so he left it alone. This probably means another cardiac surgery down the road.....5 years or 40 years from now....we have no way to know.
The wait between knowing the surgery is over and going to see him is excruciatingly long. Luckily, we had a friend sitting with us to pass the time. Once we got to go in to see Noah, I was shocked by two things: 1) he was on no other medication other than morphine. For some reason I expected some sort of cardiac medication; 2) he looked like he did before he went into surgery. He was pink and not puffy or sick looking. he just looked like he was sleeping (minus the tubes, drains and IVs).
We were moved to a private room within minutes of seeing him because a sicker child needed his bed spot...so off we went to our own room with a nurse who was just fantastic. She really valued family-centered care and a few hours after surgery, helped Keith hold Noah, which really was amazing. As soon as he held him, his heart rate dropped and he seemed more stable.
As Noah became more and more conscious as we weaned morphine, he also became more and more hysterical. Not in a thrashing kind of way - he was just very weepy and easily set off by things. So, for example, if he didn't have his James train he would be very inconsolable. We knew we wouldn't be sleeping that night, so we chose to sleep in shifts. Keith went 9-2 and I went 2-7 back to the hotel to sleep. Since we didn't sleep the night before, we were exhausted. Sitting in a dark room with a lot of white noise is hard to stay awake in! Noah would wake on my shift and cry for his pillow or his daddy. It was very hard. Keith said his shift involved him sobbing for me and for his sippy cup. He was so thirsty but we didn't want to push it too much because the morphine made him feel ill.
Thursday August 25th: Post-op day 1
Getting through the night was ok, but getting through the next four hours until he was transferred to the cardiac ward was really tough. he remembered the train set on the ward and that is what he wanted. He wanted to get up to the unit and play. We endured hours of sobbing for that train set, or to go home, or to watch Curious George. It was very hard to see him so upset and not be able to explain properly why he had to be in pain and couldn't play.
Getting up to the cardiac ward around 11am, we got settled into our room and Noah fell asleep around 11:30. I went out to tell the nurse practitioner admitting him to take her time as he just fell asleep and she got very confused. You see, I used to work on this very unit, and talking to her like I normally would have as a nurse threw her for a loop. It took her some time to piece it together - very amusing! As Noah slept, Keith did the same and I played look-out to ensure Noah didn't roll onto his tummy or need anything.
Hours passed and he woke up a bit happier but still determined to see that train set. So, with the NP's permission, we unhooked him from the monitors and he walked all the way there! We expected the typical "old-man post-op shuffle": the hunched-over slow walk to the play room. But Noah just got up and marched to the room. He walked normally! Even the cardiologist was shocked at his abilities. I mean, he wasn't even one day post-op!
He looks less than thrilled, but he did well playing with the trains and then asking to do puzzles.
The challenge for the day was getting him to eat/drink. He wouldn't do either...can you blame him? Except with cardiac kids their fluid intake/output is very important so I drove him mad with insisting he drink to get him to pee. It was our ticket out of there!
Night was hard this night because his Tylenol and vital signs were staggered...so every 2 hours he was woken by the nurse for one of those things. Which meant, he called out to us and we would go lie with him. Noah seemed content though. At one point the nurse came in and he was just laying there awake and agreed to have his vitals done with no complaint. That is so very Noah....
He kept desating with his oxygen levels over night, so he did need a bit of oxygen. I had a hard time with this because I kept seeing it as a set back but thanks to the very lovely Lisa, the charge nurse that night, she assured me that being only one day post-operative, this most certainly wasn't a set-back- more of an expected outcome. We spent the following day blowing bubbles with him to get those oxygen sat's back up:
Friday August 26th - Post-op day 2
Noah was told he may be able to go home at rounds. This felt CRAZY fast to me. I worked on this unit 5 years prior and I don't think I ever discharged a child this fast. But, once his drains and pacing wired were removed there was no point in sticking around. This was a very busy day: drains/pacing wire removal, chest x-ray and an echo all needed to be done. He was still desaturating with sleep so we needed to figure out that as well.
We gave morphine before the tube got pulled and it was BAD. He got very very nauseated, sweaty and fidgety. He was feeling miserable and that was evident by him curled up into the fetal position moaning while I put cold cloths on his head and Keith rubbed his back and waited for him to be sick. I insisted they give an IV med to settle his stomach and they agreed. Just as they were about to pull the tube, the nurses listened to his chest and noticed he had decreased air entry to his right lower lung. So, we had to do an x-ray first to see if that chest tube could come out or not. All day Noah had been very lethargic and not himself: "Lack of affect" as we say in the health care world. So he went in a wheelchair and watched Toopy and Binoo on the iPad as he went down to x-ray - let them do their thing and came back up for an echo. He was so quiet and still the technician kept commenting on how good he was. Once the xray was back we found out there was some mild atelectasis in his right lobe and his lungs were a bit wet - so with a dose of lasix to pee off that fluid, they pulled the drain anyway. Sadly, we had to give more morphine - which bugged me but he still had the IV meds to keep the nausea at bay. This was a hard time because pulling chest tubes and pacing wires hurts like hell. He also needed his sternal dressing removed and his IV's taken out. So we did it all at once. He is a trooper though, and did quite well with it all.
Taking off the sternal dressing though, we thought we saw some pus - bad news - so we had to watch him overnight for a fever and had a doctor come and assess it. We had to redress it just to see if it would start oozing from an infection, however, no one thought it was infected (thank goodness) so we were able to plan to leave the following morning.
Because Noah was acting off all day, we had asked that we stay the night - and shortly after requesting this, he was acting normally and playful again. This coincided with a visit from his Uncle Nik. He loved Nik and finds him hilarious so that raised his spirits. My friend, Jen & Roula, also visited, as did both my sisters and their partners. It was nice to have people to visit with.
As Noah was falling asleep, he desat'ed to 86% so we were told to take him on another walk but I was afraid he would need oxygen over night again. For some reason, one more walk did it - and he was saturating 97% all night on his own!
Saturday August 27th: Home time!
Overnight Noah did great and we knew we were going home. It was a Saturday so things move slower in the hospital. We had to wait for our Nurse Practitioner to be free to discharge us and to get the OK from the doctor on daily rounds. It took until noon till we could go home. Yet to me, this was still very early post operatively. However, the reasoning was that he would probably do better at home and get up and move more to get rid of that atelectasis. To pass time, we watched the elevators - which at Sick Kids are fun to watch because they aren't in an elevator shaft - you can see them going up and down. He kept saying he didn't want to go home because of the elevators!
Around noon we packed up, took off his dressing and went home. Layla was soooo happy to see him. She kept waving and saying "hi" as she stared at him on the couch. Noah was happy to and shared his snack with her:
Tuesday August 23rd: The night before surgery
We had a hotel room booked, a 5 minute walk to the hospital. We had to be at the hospital for 6am and since we live an hour away, it was easier to just sleep 5 min's away. My mom had come to stay with Layla and I was worried about leaving her but she smiled and waved as we left the house. Pre-op, Noah couldn't eat past midnight, so we wanted to make sure he had a good dinner. Keith made a favourite meal of his and he sits down and pushes it away. Keith and I were terrified - Noah was booked for surgery at about 1pm the next day. If his last meal was lunch, rather than dinner....we were scared for the following day with a starving preschooler. Luckily Keith bought Boost (disgusting meal replacement beverage) and protein "chocolate bars". So on the ride down to the hotel Noah munched and drank. Not a lot but enough to keep us happy. We think he knew something was up and was just too nervous to eat.
Driving into Toronto was awesome - he was enthralled with the tall buildings and general bustle of the downtown core. I didn't really think our hometown was a "small town" but now that I see his reaction to Toronto, I suppose I have to face facts.
After a particularly stressful parking event which involved a very large Buick Enclave and a very tiny parking garage with minimal turning room, we arrived at our hotel which was just FILLED with children. I have never seen anything like it. They even had a check-in desk for kids where they get a toy and a book. Our room was nice with a king bed but we didn't have time to enjoy. We had to get Noah to have his bath with the special scrub brush for the OR and get him to bed! Sadly, the mixture of the strange bed and having his parents in the room with him made him wide awake! It was nearly 9:30pm before he fell asleep and hogged the bed for the rest of the night.
Wednesday August 24th: Surgery day
We left the hotel bright and early. Noah led the way with his Cars backpack filled with toys and us with a bag filled with games and toys to keep us occupied until the afternoon call for surgery. When we arrived on the floor we learned he had been moved to first case and another child had been cancelled. So we were taken to get Noah's vitals done, his weight and height and give him yet another bath. All of this went ok except when weighing him in the hall, another child (post-op) was walking and moaning down the hall past him and I think this scared him. I was never aware of this stuff when I worked as a nurse, but as a mom I was a bit angry that the weight wasn't done in his room so he wasn't scared of what was to come. Regardless, we got him weighed and then all he wanted to do was play with a train set in the playroom of the cardiac ward: 
All too soon we were called to the operating room. We had to give him some medication to make him a bit loopy so he wouldn't be scared of going into the surgical suite alone. Keith carried him down and we got him to a bed just as the medication was kicking in. He kept insisting on holding James (his train from the Thomas set) but he also kept trying to watch an infomercial that was inexplicably playing in the holding area before the OR. I tried to recite his favourite bedtime stories but was way too teary to do so. He looked at me clearly at one point and I was trying so hard not to cry. I didn't want to scare him. Keith took over the story telling. After meeting the OR team, they wheeled him away (with James!). I can't tell you how terrifying it is to send off your seemingly healthy child into cardiac surgery where you know he will be on bypass. We were both very upset, but got it together after he was wheeled away and we settled into the waiting room for a long wait. We anticipated we would be seeing our surgeon around 1pm. It was now 8am.
Time passed and aside from being disgusted by the family beside us who felt that the table I had my coffee on was their personal foot stool (they had bare feet!), it went relatively quickly. Around 11 or 12 (i lost sense of time) I saw our surgeon. He brought us to the back room to tell us good and bad news. Good news: They cleared out MOST of the tissue that was blocking his outflow tract - there was some on the aortic valve that he couldn't get off without damaging the valve. His pressure gradient had gone from 120-150 down to 15. His valve no longer was leaky. He received no extra blood products (other than those needed for bypass) and he was extubated (this is a change from even his first surgery - they extubate in the OR which speeds up their discharge process by many days). Bad news: there is a tear in one of the leaflets of the aortic valve. He admitted that he thought he did it at first but upon examination saw the stress on the valve was too great and this tore it. He could have fixed it but it isn't leaking so he left it alone. This probably means another cardiac surgery down the road.....5 years or 40 years from now....we have no way to know.
The wait between knowing the surgery is over and going to see him is excruciatingly long. Luckily, we had a friend sitting with us to pass the time. Once we got to go in to see Noah, I was shocked by two things: 1) he was on no other medication other than morphine. For some reason I expected some sort of cardiac medication; 2) he looked like he did before he went into surgery. He was pink and not puffy or sick looking. he just looked like he was sleeping (minus the tubes, drains and IVs).
We were moved to a private room within minutes of seeing him because a sicker child needed his bed spot...so off we went to our own room with a nurse who was just fantastic. She really valued family-centered care and a few hours after surgery, helped Keith hold Noah, which really was amazing. As soon as he held him, his heart rate dropped and he seemed more stable.
As Noah became more and more conscious as we weaned morphine, he also became more and more hysterical. Not in a thrashing kind of way - he was just very weepy and easily set off by things. So, for example, if he didn't have his James train he would be very inconsolable. We knew we wouldn't be sleeping that night, so we chose to sleep in shifts. Keith went 9-2 and I went 2-7 back to the hotel to sleep. Since we didn't sleep the night before, we were exhausted. Sitting in a dark room with a lot of white noise is hard to stay awake in! Noah would wake on my shift and cry for his pillow or his daddy. It was very hard. Keith said his shift involved him sobbing for me and for his sippy cup. He was so thirsty but we didn't want to push it too much because the morphine made him feel ill.
Thursday August 25th: Post-op day 1
Getting through the night was ok, but getting through the next four hours until he was transferred to the cardiac ward was really tough. he remembered the train set on the ward and that is what he wanted. He wanted to get up to the unit and play. We endured hours of sobbing for that train set, or to go home, or to watch Curious George. It was very hard to see him so upset and not be able to explain properly why he had to be in pain and couldn't play.
Getting up to the cardiac ward around 11am, we got settled into our room and Noah fell asleep around 11:30. I went out to tell the nurse practitioner admitting him to take her time as he just fell asleep and she got very confused. You see, I used to work on this very unit, and talking to her like I normally would have as a nurse threw her for a loop. It took her some time to piece it together - very amusing! As Noah slept, Keith did the same and I played look-out to ensure Noah didn't roll onto his tummy or need anything.
He looks less than thrilled, but he did well playing with the trains and then asking to do puzzles.
The challenge for the day was getting him to eat/drink. He wouldn't do either...can you blame him? Except with cardiac kids their fluid intake/output is very important so I drove him mad with insisting he drink to get him to pee. It was our ticket out of there!
Night was hard this night because his Tylenol and vital signs were staggered...so every 2 hours he was woken by the nurse for one of those things. Which meant, he called out to us and we would go lie with him. Noah seemed content though. At one point the nurse came in and he was just laying there awake and agreed to have his vitals done with no complaint. That is so very Noah....
He kept desating with his oxygen levels over night, so he did need a bit of oxygen. I had a hard time with this because I kept seeing it as a set back but thanks to the very lovely Lisa, the charge nurse that night, she assured me that being only one day post-operative, this most certainly wasn't a set-back- more of an expected outcome. We spent the following day blowing bubbles with him to get those oxygen sat's back up:
Friday August 26th - Post-op day 2
Noah was told he may be able to go home at rounds. This felt CRAZY fast to me. I worked on this unit 5 years prior and I don't think I ever discharged a child this fast. But, once his drains and pacing wired were removed there was no point in sticking around. This was a very busy day: drains/pacing wire removal, chest x-ray and an echo all needed to be done. He was still desaturating with sleep so we needed to figure out that as well.
We gave morphine before the tube got pulled and it was BAD. He got very very nauseated, sweaty and fidgety. He was feeling miserable and that was evident by him curled up into the fetal position moaning while I put cold cloths on his head and Keith rubbed his back and waited for him to be sick. I insisted they give an IV med to settle his stomach and they agreed. Just as they were about to pull the tube, the nurses listened to his chest and noticed he had decreased air entry to his right lower lung. So, we had to do an x-ray first to see if that chest tube could come out or not. All day Noah had been very lethargic and not himself: "Lack of affect" as we say in the health care world. So he went in a wheelchair and watched Toopy and Binoo on the iPad as he went down to x-ray - let them do their thing and came back up for an echo. He was so quiet and still the technician kept commenting on how good he was. Once the xray was back we found out there was some mild atelectasis in his right lobe and his lungs were a bit wet - so with a dose of lasix to pee off that fluid, they pulled the drain anyway. Sadly, we had to give more morphine - which bugged me but he still had the IV meds to keep the nausea at bay. This was a hard time because pulling chest tubes and pacing wires hurts like hell. He also needed his sternal dressing removed and his IV's taken out. So we did it all at once. He is a trooper though, and did quite well with it all.
Taking off the sternal dressing though, we thought we saw some pus - bad news - so we had to watch him overnight for a fever and had a doctor come and assess it. We had to redress it just to see if it would start oozing from an infection, however, no one thought it was infected (thank goodness) so we were able to plan to leave the following morning.
Because Noah was acting off all day, we had asked that we stay the night - and shortly after requesting this, he was acting normally and playful again. This coincided with a visit from his Uncle Nik. He loved Nik and finds him hilarious so that raised his spirits. My friend, Jen & Roula, also visited, as did both my sisters and their partners. It was nice to have people to visit with.
As Noah was falling asleep, he desat'ed to 86% so we were told to take him on another walk but I was afraid he would need oxygen over night again. For some reason, one more walk did it - and he was saturating 97% all night on his own!
Saturday August 27th: Home time!
Overnight Noah did great and we knew we were going home. It was a Saturday so things move slower in the hospital. We had to wait for our Nurse Practitioner to be free to discharge us and to get the OK from the doctor on daily rounds. It took until noon till we could go home. Yet to me, this was still very early post operatively. However, the reasoning was that he would probably do better at home and get up and move more to get rid of that atelectasis. To pass time, we watched the elevators - which at Sick Kids are fun to watch because they aren't in an elevator shaft - you can see them going up and down. He kept saying he didn't want to go home because of the elevators!
Around noon we packed up, took off his dressing and went home. Layla was soooo happy to see him. She kept waving and saying "hi" as she stared at him on the couch. Noah was happy to and shared his snack with her:
Every day Noah is getting better and better. We learned quickly that we have to stay on top of his pain meds - advil and tylenol...that's all he gets! He must feel great because he keeps doing more (physically) than he should be doing - and then he pays for it around bedtime when he gets upset with the pain. But overall I think we are both shocked at his resilience.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
2 week countdown
Noah's surgery is in 2 weeks. It is coming way too fast for my liking. Next week he has his very long pre-operative clinic day (x-rays, blood work, child life, surgeon) and then he is being pulled from school to keep him as healthy as we can.
So I thought I would just post on how we are doing: On the whole we are actually functioning ok. After the initial shock wore off, I think we just fell back into our normal day-to-day rhythm. However, that said, we also have moments of grief overtake us. I have to admit I get very sad when I wonder why Noah has to endure such things. I also wonder why kids have to be sick ever...doesn't seem very fair to me.
We bought Noah a book about staying in the hospital. He likes to read it and he asks us lots of questions about the hospital but overall he is quite oblivious to what is going on. I do, however think he senses "something" is going on - as he is more clingy to us.
Today Keith booked our hotel room close to the hospital so we don't have to wake up super early to get down there. For some reason, hearing of the booking made it seem real and I became a blubbering mess. I cried so much that I can't leave my office now or I will draw a great deal of attention due to my puffy and red eyes. I also only just realized that we won't see Layla for quite a few days and that made me equally upset (we plan to have us both by Noah's bed while he is in the ICU and then when we get to the ward take turns staying with him). She is too young to understand and I can't help but wonder if she will wonder where we are. That breaks my heart.
Tonight is DQ Miracle Treat Day - raising money for local hospitals. It feels fitting that it falls so close to Noah's operation. We will proudly buy blizzards and feed those sugary treats to our kids tonight to support a good cause. Quite frankly, when you are in our shoes, it seems like feeding sugar to children is the last thing to worry about right now...I am sure they will love it!
So I thought I would just post on how we are doing: On the whole we are actually functioning ok. After the initial shock wore off, I think we just fell back into our normal day-to-day rhythm. However, that said, we also have moments of grief overtake us. I have to admit I get very sad when I wonder why Noah has to endure such things. I also wonder why kids have to be sick ever...doesn't seem very fair to me.
We bought Noah a book about staying in the hospital. He likes to read it and he asks us lots of questions about the hospital but overall he is quite oblivious to what is going on. I do, however think he senses "something" is going on - as he is more clingy to us.
Today Keith booked our hotel room close to the hospital so we don't have to wake up super early to get down there. For some reason, hearing of the booking made it seem real and I became a blubbering mess. I cried so much that I can't leave my office now or I will draw a great deal of attention due to my puffy and red eyes. I also only just realized that we won't see Layla for quite a few days and that made me equally upset (we plan to have us both by Noah's bed while he is in the ICU and then when we get to the ward take turns staying with him). She is too young to understand and I can't help but wonder if she will wonder where we are. That breaks my heart.
Tonight is DQ Miracle Treat Day - raising money for local hospitals. It feels fitting that it falls so close to Noah's operation. We will proudly buy blizzards and feed those sugary treats to our kids tonight to support a good cause. Quite frankly, when you are in our shoes, it seems like feeding sugar to children is the last thing to worry about right now...I am sure they will love it!
Monday, July 25, 2011
Talking about surgery
I have been told by other parents, that I should blog about our struggles with Noah's health issues because other people with chronically ill children may benefit. With that in mind I thought I would blog about a big issue: how to tell your child that he has to have surgery - for Noah, one that he can't live without. At Sick Kids we are blessed with Child Life Specialists who talk to kids about surgeries and are absolutely amazing. However, until our pre-op clinic, we have to handle it ourselves.
When we went to cardiac clinic two weeks ago, we told Noah we had to do some tests on his heart. He thought they were fixing his heart, and told us so. We didn't agree or disagree but he seemed ok with it.
On our own, Keith and I both started talking to Noah about the surgery. We aren't trying to dwell on it too much or he will be more afraid of it arriving, but we do want him to be aware of it. A few nights ago, when Noah was telling me how he took a train, subway and bus to the hospital two weeks ago, I told him we would be going back soon for the doctors to fix his heart. He was ok with this and sort of brushed the thought aside and kept telling me about his train trip.
Last night, while Keith was putting Noah to bed, he also brought it up by telling him he would have to go to the hospital soon to get his heart fixed. In a completely gut wrenching moment, Noah told Keith he was scared. Keith answered him in the best way possible by agreeing that it was scary, and that mommy or daddy would be there with him at all times. It is absolutely important that we don't lie to Noah by telling him it isn't scary or that it won't hurt. We both refuse to do this - it will just serve to make Noah loose trust in us. As a nurse you are taught to be honest, but that doesn't mean you can't add a bit of hope in there: "Yes, this will hurt, but I will hold your hand and when it is done we can pick out a toy out of the treasure chest" (A box of trinket toys for kids around Noah's age who are afraid of procedures that will hurt).
So at dinner last night Keith was telling me, for Noah's sake, that they had spoke of going to the hospital soon. Noah instantly got a scared look on his face. I just reiterated that we will always be there for him - either Daddy or Mommy. But that we also have to look after Layla, so we will take turns staying with him.
I am trying to not dwell on it too much - so as not to make him fear the event. But I also don't want him walking into the hospital in a month's time, thinking we are just going for normal tests again. I am not too keen on telling him they will be cutting him open to get to his heart - so I am leaving that for the Child Life Specialist, who uses a muppet-type of doll to explain this. Anyone who has had a child go through surgery at this age knows how tricky it can be. I do, however, thank the heaven's that we were able to hold off until he was 3 years old because at 2 years old he would have been hard to reason with and speak to so this makes it somewhat easier.
He is doing ok otherwise though. We went for a long bike ride and he pedaled most of the way - he got tired near the end but after a short break he was excited to go again. He isn't eating much lately, which I suppose is to be expected - with heart conditions, when the heart doesn't work optimally, one of the first places to take notice of heart failure is the stomach (think of the fight or flight response - same deal). He is still laying around a fair bit but he doesn't look ill to me. I am thankful we are going to repair his heart, because having a surgery hanging over our heads for the past two years has been very hard and we have hope that he will feel and act much better after the surgery, even though his heart still won't be 100%.
So that is our current struggle surrounding the heart condition. It consumes a lot of our brain power and emotions but we still carry on our day-to-day living, which at times can seem odd given what we face in a month's time.
When we went to cardiac clinic two weeks ago, we told Noah we had to do some tests on his heart. He thought they were fixing his heart, and told us so. We didn't agree or disagree but he seemed ok with it.
On our own, Keith and I both started talking to Noah about the surgery. We aren't trying to dwell on it too much or he will be more afraid of it arriving, but we do want him to be aware of it. A few nights ago, when Noah was telling me how he took a train, subway and bus to the hospital two weeks ago, I told him we would be going back soon for the doctors to fix his heart. He was ok with this and sort of brushed the thought aside and kept telling me about his train trip.
Last night, while Keith was putting Noah to bed, he also brought it up by telling him he would have to go to the hospital soon to get his heart fixed. In a completely gut wrenching moment, Noah told Keith he was scared. Keith answered him in the best way possible by agreeing that it was scary, and that mommy or daddy would be there with him at all times. It is absolutely important that we don't lie to Noah by telling him it isn't scary or that it won't hurt. We both refuse to do this - it will just serve to make Noah loose trust in us. As a nurse you are taught to be honest, but that doesn't mean you can't add a bit of hope in there: "Yes, this will hurt, but I will hold your hand and when it is done we can pick out a toy out of the treasure chest" (A box of trinket toys for kids around Noah's age who are afraid of procedures that will hurt).
So at dinner last night Keith was telling me, for Noah's sake, that they had spoke of going to the hospital soon. Noah instantly got a scared look on his face. I just reiterated that we will always be there for him - either Daddy or Mommy. But that we also have to look after Layla, so we will take turns staying with him.
I am trying to not dwell on it too much - so as not to make him fear the event. But I also don't want him walking into the hospital in a month's time, thinking we are just going for normal tests again. I am not too keen on telling him they will be cutting him open to get to his heart - so I am leaving that for the Child Life Specialist, who uses a muppet-type of doll to explain this. Anyone who has had a child go through surgery at this age knows how tricky it can be. I do, however, thank the heaven's that we were able to hold off until he was 3 years old because at 2 years old he would have been hard to reason with and speak to so this makes it somewhat easier.
He is doing ok otherwise though. We went for a long bike ride and he pedaled most of the way - he got tired near the end but after a short break he was excited to go again. He isn't eating much lately, which I suppose is to be expected - with heart conditions, when the heart doesn't work optimally, one of the first places to take notice of heart failure is the stomach (think of the fight or flight response - same deal). He is still laying around a fair bit but he doesn't look ill to me. I am thankful we are going to repair his heart, because having a surgery hanging over our heads for the past two years has been very hard and we have hope that he will feel and act much better after the surgery, even though his heart still won't be 100%.
So that is our current struggle surrounding the heart condition. It consumes a lot of our brain power and emotions but we still carry on our day-to-day living, which at times can seem odd given what we face in a month's time.
Monday, July 18, 2011
The end of breastfeeding
All good things have to come to an end, I suppose. As my La Leche League book tells me, "Everybody weans". I have loved breastfeeding from the moment I figured it out with Noah. Before babies I knew that I wanted it to work out for me and through many tough moments, both my children nursed until approximately the same age. We made it through Noah's surgery, tongue ties, too much milk, fast flow, lazy nursing, fast nursing, returning to work and pumping...you name it.
On September 1, 2009 Noah weaned abruptly. He was 16 months old I made a post on a parenting forum, entitled "Crushed":
UGH I just went to put my son to sleep and he refused to nurse. He just wanted me to put him into his crib. As soon as I did he fell asleep. He has never, ever refused his bedtime nursing session!
I kept offering and he kept biting me. I thought he just didn't have a good latch so I kept trying. He bit me hard and I said "NO" out of pain and his face crumpled and he sobbed. UGH that is just a lovely nursing memory isn't it?
I hope this isn't in response to the pregnancy. I can't imagine he gets much b/c he only nurses the one time and never for long before he is asleep. I am terrified to try again b/c all I can think is that our last nursing session will have been yesterday where I just spent my whole time reading perezhilton. Lovely....
I left his room and sobbed. I am fairly certain my husband thinks I am crazy!
I was, without a doubt - devastated. I got over it though because I was pregnant with Layla at the time (so I would be breastfeeding again in only 7 more months!)
I have one photo of me nursing Noah, laying in bed together when he was a toddler.
I have suspected Layla was close to weaning for a while. She hasn't relied on it for a long time but I push it because I didn't want to stop. Today, on July 18th, 2011 I think I have to throw in the towel. Layla is now 15 months old, exactly. It has been three days in a row where she has refused. Personally, I think it is due to her teething, as she has refused to eat at school today too. However, since this is day three perhaps I should take this window of opportunity and wean her. I share similar thoughts to my last weaning session - as I didn't really "appreciate" the last time I nursed. In fact, the last few times were comical. She would lay down, nurse for a bit, then sit up and pop between both sides while trying to nurse and rest her cheek on my chest. Then she would giggle and pop back on. I have known for a few months now that she was close to being done and I would watch her nurse and think, "this could be the last time". I tried to cherish it, but I am left with the last few days as a memory - her arching out of my arms trying to get to her crib. Oddly enough, the same way Noah weaned. They are just a month apart in age from when they stopped. Similar to Noah, I have one photo - a self portrait - of our time nursing. She wasn't a cuddly nurser - she was all business with breastfeeding. It isn't a great photo but it is all I have.
I am not sure if we will have another baby, so this is very sad for me. I am sure most people will think I am crazy but at least I'm not sobbing this time!
On September 1, 2009 Noah weaned abruptly. He was 16 months old I made a post on a parenting forum, entitled "Crushed":
UGH I just went to put my son to sleep and he refused to nurse. He just wanted me to put him into his crib. As soon as I did he fell asleep. He has never, ever refused his bedtime nursing session!
I kept offering and he kept biting me. I thought he just didn't have a good latch so I kept trying. He bit me hard and I said "NO" out of pain and his face crumpled and he sobbed. UGH that is just a lovely nursing memory isn't it?
I hope this isn't in response to the pregnancy. I can't imagine he gets much b/c he only nurses the one time and never for long before he is asleep. I am terrified to try again b/c all I can think is that our last nursing session will have been yesterday where I just spent my whole time reading perezhilton. Lovely....
I left his room and sobbed. I am fairly certain my husband thinks I am crazy!
I was, without a doubt - devastated. I got over it though because I was pregnant with Layla at the time (so I would be breastfeeding again in only 7 more months!)
I have one photo of me nursing Noah, laying in bed together when he was a toddler.
I have suspected Layla was close to weaning for a while. She hasn't relied on it for a long time but I push it because I didn't want to stop. Today, on July 18th, 2011 I think I have to throw in the towel. Layla is now 15 months old, exactly. It has been three days in a row where she has refused. Personally, I think it is due to her teething, as she has refused to eat at school today too. However, since this is day three perhaps I should take this window of opportunity and wean her. I share similar thoughts to my last weaning session - as I didn't really "appreciate" the last time I nursed. In fact, the last few times were comical. She would lay down, nurse for a bit, then sit up and pop between both sides while trying to nurse and rest her cheek on my chest. Then she would giggle and pop back on. I have known for a few months now that she was close to being done and I would watch her nurse and think, "this could be the last time". I tried to cherish it, but I am left with the last few days as a memory - her arching out of my arms trying to get to her crib. Oddly enough, the same way Noah weaned. They are just a month apart in age from when they stopped. Similar to Noah, I have one photo - a self portrait - of our time nursing. She wasn't a cuddly nurser - she was all business with breastfeeding. It isn't a great photo but it is all I have.
I am not sure if we will have another baby, so this is very sad for me. I am sure most people will think I am crazy but at least I'm not sobbing this time!
Thursday, July 14, 2011
Noah's heart
...and so, Noah needs more surgery...and soon.
That is all we know up to this point.
As I tell people this, I do so in a detached manner that seems to alarm the person on the receiving end. I was telling Noah's teacher yesterday who said, "Um...this is a small surgery?". I respond, "No...it is open heart surgery". She looks at me and says cautiously, "...you are handling this....well....". It sort of makes me feel like a horrible parent. Keith is a bit detached too. To him, we knew this was coming so it is just what we expected. To me, I seem to be spitting out the information but not absorbing it. I talk about it in that detached manner nurses do: "I have a repaired VSD, ASD, Co-arct patient in room 6 here for pre-op workup for a muscle bundle resection and valve repair....". It is slightly demented how I am treating it, to be honest. I am walking around acting as though I didn't receive devastating news yesterday. I think every minute though, my layer of ice is melting and some poor sap will ask how the appointment went and I will finally dissolve into tears of grief.
Don't get me wrong, I did tear up as I BBM'd my brother to tell him what was going on as I stood booking his next appointment in the cardiac clinic. He was (and always is) the first person I tell these things to and he always says just the right thing to make me tear up. He is always very supportive. I didn't want to cry in front of Noah though - he doesn't know what is happening. He knows his heart needs to be fixed by a doctor, and that is it so far.
So the day was ok. I always have minor panic attacks walking into Sick Kids these days. After working there for four years in total, I find that those memories and experiences are completely obliterated and replaced by the memory of the hospital stay with Noah. Truthfully, the incident traumatized me, and likely Keith. But I can't really get past it. So I was a bit anxious all day. We took Noah on the train and subway so that distracted us. He was such a good boy.
When we got there, our appointment was supposed to be at 9am and they told us it actually was at 11am. Noone called to tell us so I got quite upset. They saw us at 9:10. They were great and explained to Noah what would happen and he lay on the table, quietly watching Treehouse tv for nearly an hour and a half. He fell asleep at times and was quite warm (Turns out he also had a fever of 103 degrees - not sure why yet). After the echo he had an ECG where he just lay quietly on the table again, prompting the RN to ask him if he "is always this serious".
We had to eat lunch and pass some time while we waited for our 12:30 appointment with the cardiologist. This wait was the longest because we knew the news would be bad but we just wanted to hear it. We had to see a fellow first, and that was even more torture because she couldn't tell us what was wrong yet. Finally we see our cardiologist and basically all he could tell us was that the muscle that is building up under his aortic valve has gotten so crowded that we can't wait any longer to do the surgery. He couldn't tell us if the valve needs replacing or anything more. We have to wait until his case is presented to the surgeon and cardiologists on Monday. Keith asked some great questions and I felt like I just sat there with a goofy look on my face. Somewhere between a grin and a grimace.
Noah fell asleep on the bus ride home - and then we were settled on the couch (him, slightly febrile still) relaxing and watching tv.
I carried on (as did Keith) normally. Making jokes, playing and having a good time with the kids. After Noah had some Tylenol he was a bundle of energy and we had a great time playing. For yesterday, at least, I refused to let his defect and surgery affect our time together. I refused to sit beside him on the couch quietly crying. I just wanted us to have a normal and fun time. And so, I let him throw foam blocks at me and laugh hysterically, even though we aren't supposed to throw toys at people, because lets face it - the kid needs to be let off on some of the rules now and then.
Sometimes my mind wanders to all that can go wrong. I know all this from working there and this knowledge destroys me. I think of when he will be healing and we have to remove his chest drains or pacing wires and how it will hurt him. I think of him laying in bed, intubated and on a ventilator. It is gut wrenching. I can't get these images out of my mind and that is why I choose to be numb for now. When he was a baby it went so fast and was a life-or-death operation. We didn't have time to dwell on the situation. With a week old baby, you are coping with being a new parent, mom has post-partum healing herself, struggling to figure out how to breastfeed, living on no sleep. We had no choice but to deal and move on. This time, the waiting....it's excruciating...
So, as I type this, the ice melts a bit more and I get a bit more sad. Waiting for Monday and even for our surgical time (which will be before Halloween) is like a huge weight hovering over us. Once we get that date, we can set forward with our plan: who will stay in the hospital, who will stay with layla, who will work, who will watch Jade, etc. We plan for 10 days in hospital and who knows how many more days at home recovering after.
I will update when I know more. :)
That is all we know up to this point.
As I tell people this, I do so in a detached manner that seems to alarm the person on the receiving end. I was telling Noah's teacher yesterday who said, "Um...this is a small surgery?". I respond, "No...it is open heart surgery". She looks at me and says cautiously, "...you are handling this....well....". It sort of makes me feel like a horrible parent. Keith is a bit detached too. To him, we knew this was coming so it is just what we expected. To me, I seem to be spitting out the information but not absorbing it. I talk about it in that detached manner nurses do: "I have a repaired VSD, ASD, Co-arct patient in room 6 here for pre-op workup for a muscle bundle resection and valve repair....". It is slightly demented how I am treating it, to be honest. I am walking around acting as though I didn't receive devastating news yesterday. I think every minute though, my layer of ice is melting and some poor sap will ask how the appointment went and I will finally dissolve into tears of grief.
Don't get me wrong, I did tear up as I BBM'd my brother to tell him what was going on as I stood booking his next appointment in the cardiac clinic. He was (and always is) the first person I tell these things to and he always says just the right thing to make me tear up. He is always very supportive. I didn't want to cry in front of Noah though - he doesn't know what is happening. He knows his heart needs to be fixed by a doctor, and that is it so far.
So the day was ok. I always have minor panic attacks walking into Sick Kids these days. After working there for four years in total, I find that those memories and experiences are completely obliterated and replaced by the memory of the hospital stay with Noah. Truthfully, the incident traumatized me, and likely Keith. But I can't really get past it. So I was a bit anxious all day. We took Noah on the train and subway so that distracted us. He was such a good boy.
When we got there, our appointment was supposed to be at 9am and they told us it actually was at 11am. Noone called to tell us so I got quite upset. They saw us at 9:10. They were great and explained to Noah what would happen and he lay on the table, quietly watching Treehouse tv for nearly an hour and a half. He fell asleep at times and was quite warm (Turns out he also had a fever of 103 degrees - not sure why yet). After the echo he had an ECG where he just lay quietly on the table again, prompting the RN to ask him if he "is always this serious".
We had to eat lunch and pass some time while we waited for our 12:30 appointment with the cardiologist. This wait was the longest because we knew the news would be bad but we just wanted to hear it. We had to see a fellow first, and that was even more torture because she couldn't tell us what was wrong yet. Finally we see our cardiologist and basically all he could tell us was that the muscle that is building up under his aortic valve has gotten so crowded that we can't wait any longer to do the surgery. He couldn't tell us if the valve needs replacing or anything more. We have to wait until his case is presented to the surgeon and cardiologists on Monday. Keith asked some great questions and I felt like I just sat there with a goofy look on my face. Somewhere between a grin and a grimace.
Noah fell asleep on the bus ride home - and then we were settled on the couch (him, slightly febrile still) relaxing and watching tv.
I carried on (as did Keith) normally. Making jokes, playing and having a good time with the kids. After Noah had some Tylenol he was a bundle of energy and we had a great time playing. For yesterday, at least, I refused to let his defect and surgery affect our time together. I refused to sit beside him on the couch quietly crying. I just wanted us to have a normal and fun time. And so, I let him throw foam blocks at me and laugh hysterically, even though we aren't supposed to throw toys at people, because lets face it - the kid needs to be let off on some of the rules now and then.
Sometimes my mind wanders to all that can go wrong. I know all this from working there and this knowledge destroys me. I think of when he will be healing and we have to remove his chest drains or pacing wires and how it will hurt him. I think of him laying in bed, intubated and on a ventilator. It is gut wrenching. I can't get these images out of my mind and that is why I choose to be numb for now. When he was a baby it went so fast and was a life-or-death operation. We didn't have time to dwell on the situation. With a week old baby, you are coping with being a new parent, mom has post-partum healing herself, struggling to figure out how to breastfeed, living on no sleep. We had no choice but to deal and move on. This time, the waiting....it's excruciating...
So, as I type this, the ice melts a bit more and I get a bit more sad. Waiting for Monday and even for our surgical time (which will be before Halloween) is like a huge weight hovering over us. Once we get that date, we can set forward with our plan: who will stay in the hospital, who will stay with layla, who will work, who will watch Jade, etc. We plan for 10 days in hospital and who knows how many more days at home recovering after.
I will update when I know more. :)
Thursday, July 7, 2011
To have more children or not...that is the question....
As I approach Layla's 15 month milestone, I am reminded that I was just finding out I was pregnant with her when Noah was 15 months old. Keith and I have had this argument since we were married - how many children do we want?
Keith, coming from a two child family, is ok with stopping at two. Most people would probably agree with him: we have the "million dollar family" - a boy and a girl who are both lovely children.
I come from a 4 child family and I love the idea of a bigger family. I loved the noise, the chaos and the fact that if I was mad at one sibling, I still had two others to hang out with. To me, two is way too small. As I always say to Keith: "If Noah and Layla are fighting, who do they hang out with?!?!"
We have seemed to decide (informally) that 4 is too much. Three may be ok - but there is a constant debate in our house: With two, you can move on from the baby phase (the diapers, potty training, breastfeeding) and start saving for nice vacations, educations and house renovations. We both grew up in families where we didn't take annual trips to cottages or various vacation locales - so it isn't like this is something we need to have annually, but it would be nice to give to our children. We have had only one vacation since having children, when we took Noah on a car trip through New England. It would be nice to go on another trip relatively soon, with both children.
There is also my career to think about. I have just finished my Masters and yet I haven't found a permanent job. I have worked contract for four years due to school and back to back maternity leaves. This has also left a slight financial strain on our family, despite us both making good salaries. Also, as vain as it sounds, this is the best shape I have been in since my wedding and I am kind of enjoying it!
And so, we are approaching the time where I would want to make a decision. I loved having Noah and Layla 23 months apart. It seemed perfect. I would want to have another child relatively soon, as I don't want Noah to be too much older than the youngest child.
However, Layla (over the past few weeks) is going through a particularly difficult phase: kicking and screaming tantrums, biting, hitting - all of which I attribute to her final eye teeth coming through and the cold/eye infection she is currently plagued with. Yet, with her being such a handful it does make us wonder if two is just perfect. Simultaneously, Layla is also the most cuddly and lovable toddler ever - she will sit on my lap and cuddle into my chest all evening while we wait for dinner to be ready. She loves to be held and she has the most infectious smile. Similarly, Noah is the most polite child I have ever met: saying please automatically and apologizing more often than necessary. He is a lovely and gorgeous boy who will obviously be a lovely and gorgeous man one day. My kids are, honestly, amazing and beautiful - and seeing the children we made and how they each are their own little person, with their own (very different) personality traits makes me really want to see what else we can make.
I don't want to live a lifetime of regret at stopping at two if i really wanted three - but I just don't know what to do right now. I didn't really appreciate my last pregnancy as being "the last". I am still nursing Layla and I am hesitant to stop just in case I don't get to nurse another little baby.
We have made one decision - we won't actively try for a third. It was very hard going to a fertility clinic with Noah (luckily Layla was just a lovely surprise). I don't want to go through the emotional turmoil of "trying" again - it is very hard. So if we do decide three would be ok, we would leave it up to fate.
And so, as my biological clock ticks away, we sit and watch Layla having a tantrum on the floor and our current decision may be to stick with two - but I am fairly certain my mind will change once those eye teeth come through...at least until the 2 year molars begin to come through....
Keith, coming from a two child family, is ok with stopping at two. Most people would probably agree with him: we have the "million dollar family" - a boy and a girl who are both lovely children.
I come from a 4 child family and I love the idea of a bigger family. I loved the noise, the chaos and the fact that if I was mad at one sibling, I still had two others to hang out with. To me, two is way too small. As I always say to Keith: "If Noah and Layla are fighting, who do they hang out with?!?!"
We have seemed to decide (informally) that 4 is too much. Three may be ok - but there is a constant debate in our house: With two, you can move on from the baby phase (the diapers, potty training, breastfeeding) and start saving for nice vacations, educations and house renovations. We both grew up in families where we didn't take annual trips to cottages or various vacation locales - so it isn't like this is something we need to have annually, but it would be nice to give to our children. We have had only one vacation since having children, when we took Noah on a car trip through New England. It would be nice to go on another trip relatively soon, with both children.
There is also my career to think about. I have just finished my Masters and yet I haven't found a permanent job. I have worked contract for four years due to school and back to back maternity leaves. This has also left a slight financial strain on our family, despite us both making good salaries. Also, as vain as it sounds, this is the best shape I have been in since my wedding and I am kind of enjoying it!
And so, we are approaching the time where I would want to make a decision. I loved having Noah and Layla 23 months apart. It seemed perfect. I would want to have another child relatively soon, as I don't want Noah to be too much older than the youngest child.
However, Layla (over the past few weeks) is going through a particularly difficult phase: kicking and screaming tantrums, biting, hitting - all of which I attribute to her final eye teeth coming through and the cold/eye infection she is currently plagued with. Yet, with her being such a handful it does make us wonder if two is just perfect. Simultaneously, Layla is also the most cuddly and lovable toddler ever - she will sit on my lap and cuddle into my chest all evening while we wait for dinner to be ready. She loves to be held and she has the most infectious smile. Similarly, Noah is the most polite child I have ever met: saying please automatically and apologizing more often than necessary. He is a lovely and gorgeous boy who will obviously be a lovely and gorgeous man one day. My kids are, honestly, amazing and beautiful - and seeing the children we made and how they each are their own little person, with their own (very different) personality traits makes me really want to see what else we can make.
I don't want to live a lifetime of regret at stopping at two if i really wanted three - but I just don't know what to do right now. I didn't really appreciate my last pregnancy as being "the last". I am still nursing Layla and I am hesitant to stop just in case I don't get to nurse another little baby.
We have made one decision - we won't actively try for a third. It was very hard going to a fertility clinic with Noah (luckily Layla was just a lovely surprise). I don't want to go through the emotional turmoil of "trying" again - it is very hard. So if we do decide three would be ok, we would leave it up to fate.
And so, as my biological clock ticks away, we sit and watch Layla having a tantrum on the floor and our current decision may be to stick with two - but I am fairly certain my mind will change once those eye teeth come through...at least until the 2 year molars begin to come through....
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