Really? Brain surgery? Really? Really!?

Yeah, the title pretty much sums it up. Well, not really, because it's kind of a long story. But in a nutshell, I have to have brain surgery. My ginormous, intelligent brain finally turned on me. Go figure, right?  It is kind of ironic that the thing that's kind of been my thing for so many years, the asset I've really relied on, is causing me so many problems. It's been a good running joke, though. Even my grandparents said, "Well, I always knew there was more knowledge in there than her head could hold!"

Ok, so I'm going to go through the whole story the best way that I can. If I tend to ramble, I apologize. I have many, many thoughts running through my malformed brain, so it's hard to type them as quick as they come to me. First, I know that this is no big deal compared to what a lot of people (even people I know) have been through. This absolutely could be worse, and at the end of the day, I'm fortunate. Even though I'm going to have a little bit of a pity party and whine in the following paragraphs, I recognize that I'm blessed. Second, let me say that I do not want my blog to become all about my "condition." As far as I'm concerned, it's no big deal. If I was having my tonsils removed, I wouldn't devote a blog to it. Just because it's called something else, in this case - brain surgery, doesn't mean it needs an altar. There are many people who endure things far worse than this; there are many people who create blogs as a way to process what they are going through; there are people who blog about their conditions as a way to give/receive information. I'm not doing any of that. This isn't life-threatening. I don't need to cope - I had my meltdowns, so now it's onward and upward. And I'm not in the business of really giving information - what I've learned is that there is a lot of bad information out there, and I don't want to contribute to the problem. Additionally, this isn't a process. There is no story and no updates. Otherwise, it might warrant more attention, but there's really only enough info for 2 or 3 posts. I will blog about it now, because I want to tell you about it. And then I will probably blog after my surgery because, really, what else am I going to talk about? And then, hopefully, that will pretty much be it. So, moving on...  (and this will be long, so bear with me or take it in intervals)

If you are close to me or read my blog, then you know that in November/December, when I was 7 months pregnant, I got a sinus infection, bronchitis, an upper respiratory infection, etc. You name it, I got it. This entire time, I had a terrible headache in the back of my head that never went away. I've always suffered from migraines, but this was different. Every time I coughed, sneezed or blew my nose, it felt like the back of my head was going to explode. I chocked it up to a sinus headache and didn't give it another thought. Headaches are just a part of my everyday life, and I know how to deal. No biggie.

I was incredibly sick from then up until I gave birth in January. During that time, I was coughing violently and vomiting often. Not from nausea, just from coughing. I was miserable. And then in January, I developed preeclampsia, was hospitalized twice and ended up being induced 5 weeks early. Despite all of that and Ella spending four days in NICU, I now have a beautiful, healthy baby girl. As soon as Ella entered into this world, every single cold symptom I had disappeared, but the headaches didn't. Considering I wasn't getting any sleep and wasn't sleeping more than 2 hours at a time, I attributed the continuation of headaches to that.

But then Ella started sleeping through the night and I started back to work, and I continued to have a headache every single day. Always the same - back of my head. Most of the time, I just woke up with them. But coughing, sneezing, laughing...anything like that...either brought it on or made it worse. They also started to progress to causing pain in my neck. Most days, I couldn't (can't) turn my head. I definitely couldn't check my blind spot when I was driving. There were days that I couldn't even look down at Ella when I was feeding her. I couldn't lean down in the floor. My movement was incredibly limited. Everything hurt. The only relief came from lying down. The pain would almost completely disappear when I would lie down. This was another sign that it wasn't my normal headache. Anyone who suffers from migraines knows - simply lying down doesn't erase it.

So I decided to go to the chiropractor. Bless his heart, he tried. But he made me feel worse. I went several times, and after every visit, I hurt more than I did when I walked in. So I decided to go to the neurologist and rule out anything serious.

During my initial neurologist visit, he examined me and said it sounded like I had a bulging or herniated disc and that we needed to do an MRI to see what was going on. Then, on my return visit to review my MRI, he told me that I actually have what is called a chiari malformation. It's a congenital brain malformation in which the bottom of my brain, called the cerebellum (or specifically, the cerebellum tonsils), protrudes into my spinal canal. It occurs when part of your skull is abnormally small or misshapen, therefore pressing on your brain and forcing it downward. When the cerebellum is pushed into the upper spinal canal, it can interfere with the normal flow of cerebrospinal fluid, which protects your brain and spinal cord. This can lead to the blockage of signals transmitted from your brain to your body, or to a buildup of spinal fluid in the brain or spinal cord. The pressure from the cerebellum upon the spinal cord or lower brainstem can also cause neurological signs or symptoms. It's uncommon, but not unheard of.

This is what a chiari malformation looks like. A normal skull and brain are on the left. An example of my ginormous brain is on the right. The cyst in the spinal cord is a symptom that can occur if left untreated. 

Most people who have it never experience any symptoms and live life never knowing. But for some people, like yours truly, symptoms start appearing in adulthood, usually in your 20s or 30s. So basically, my skull is too small for my genius, ginormous brain. And the fact that it's trying to stuff itself down my spinal canal is why I feel like the back of my head and neck are going to explode at any given time. Luckily, headaches and neck pain are the only symptom I have. It's possible that my tendency for passing out is from my chiari, but there's no way to know for sure.  Other symptoms include problems with balance and motor skills, numbness in the extremities, dizziness, difficulty swallowing, sleep apnea, vision problems and slurred speech.

After a diagnosis, it's pretty black and white. Either you fix it, or you don't. I'm not in love with my neurologist, so I skipped the neurosurgeon he recommended and did my own research. I ended up at Emory with a neurosurgeon I love. I've also been incredibly fortunate to have people well connected within the medical field who were able to reach out to their contacts regarding my selected neurosurgeon. They've all reassured me that my doctor is the best there is to treat this condition. So that helps a lot.

My appointment with the neurosurgeon was Thursday, and again, it was black and white. Kyle went with me so that we could both ask questions and learn as much as we could before making a decision. I asked what would happen if I chose not to treat it. His answer: A life with chronic pain. My daily headaches would almost certainly get worse, and I would have to take medication daily for pain management. It's also possible that I could develop the other symptoms that are common with chiari malformation. It's also possible that I would develop syringomyelia, which is a fluid-filled cyst that develops within your spinal cord. And that beauty can lead to a whole host of problems, which I'd rather not explore.

So basically, that's it. I'm having brain surgery at Emory on July 5. My pre-op is on July 1. Here's hoping that my brilliant neurosurgeons don't have a rip-roaring good time on the 4th of July. I don't need any hungover brain surgeons cutting my beautiful head open. That brings us to the actual cutting open of the head...

The procedure is called posterior fossa decompression, and it will only take 2-4 hours. First step, they have to shave the back of my head. This has been the second biggest reason behind my meltdowns (I'll get to the first one later). I love my hair. I've always loved my hair. Most of the compliments I get are about my hair. And they are going to shave it. Granted, it's not all of it. It's not even most of it. But "some" is more than enough for me. I know it's terrible to complain about it because there are so many people who lose all of their hair, and in that respect, I'm incredibly fortunate. But I'm still upset about it. I'm going to have a 2 inch wide strip that runs from the top of the back of my head down to my neck. My surgeon said that my hair on top would cover up my buzzcut and gnarly scar, but it doesn't comfort me. They are still shaving my head, and it will take a really long time for my hair to all be the same length again. I'm sobbing now, and just thinking about it...I can't breathe. I know it's vain. But I don't care. I don't want them to shave my hair.

So after someone who doesn't cut hair for a living shaves my head, they are going to make an incision that runs down the middle of the back of my head to the base of my neck. Then, they are going to remove my C1 vertebra and a small bone from the back of my skull, relieving pressure by giving my brain room to expand. Depending on what they find, they may also carterize the bottom of my cerebellum tonsils so they shrink up. After they remove the bones, they will open the dura, which is the covering of the brain, and replace it with a synthetic material that stretches. That will enlarge the opening and give my brilliant brain even more room. Then, they'll sew me back up. People who have this surgery are afterwards knows as "zipperheads" due to the lovely scar we're left with. Yeah, I'd rather you just call me Ashley. Hell, call me Sarah. Just don't call me a zipperhead. Power to the people who like it, but that's just not me.

After the surgery is complete, I will spend a day or two in ICU, then be moved to a regular room for a few more days. The biggest reason is pain management. Apparently, this particular brain surgery is incredibly painful because they cut through all the muscles in your neck. Awe-some. I have an incredibly low pain tolerance, so I'm definitely not looking forward to this part. But, the way I'm choosing to approach it is - thank you, God, for getting me to this part.

The three biggest complications (after the real biggies - you know...paralysis and death) are a collection of fluid (a big m word that I can't remember), infection (meningitis is the biggie) and leakage of spinal fluid. The surgeon told me that almost 100% of people have the fluid build-up, but that it usually remedies itself. This is because the patch they sew over my brain isn't watertight, so there is a little leakage. He said that if I can get past 8-12 weeks and not experience infection or spinal fluid leakage (which is the most serious one), then I'm as good as home free. One of my main desires was that in a few months, I could pretend like this never happened. It looks like that may be possible.

I did a lot of research after I found out what my problem was (shocked, right?), and I really did myself a disservice. There is a lot of great information online, but there was a lot of bad information too, and all it did was terrify and sadden me. One small example - multiple blogs of people who had this condition and surgery said they could never, ever ride rollercoasters again. If you know me, you know I love Disney World more than anyone my age should ever admit. Sorry, but I do. And I've been counting the days until I can go to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter. So when I read this, I told Kyle that, if that were the case, he was taking me to both places so I could ride everything once more.Luckily, my surgeon told me that this isn't true. I also read that I couldn't pick my child up for 6 months and that I couldn't drive for 3 months. These are partly true, along with some other junk, so that's where I'm heading with this now. The other downsides, other than them shaving my head, having a gnarly scar and enduring quite a bit of pain:

5. I have to miss Kings of Leon, which I have non-transferrable, non-refundable tickets for. I also really, really love them.

4. I have to take 6 weeks off work. This wouldn't be such an issue if I hadn't just taken 12 weeks off for maternity leave. No, I don't think I'm THAT important. Yes, I work with ROCKSTARS, and I know they can handle it. But that doesn't matter. I have a responsibility to them, which I take very seriously. And so far, this year, I'm failing them miserably. Additionally, my most outstanding meltdowns regarding this topic have been with them. In addition to failing them, I'm probably driving them bonkers.

3. My sister and her husband are going to be in Las Vegas when I have my surgery. I'm thrilled for them, and the downside isn't that she won't be there. The downside is that she wants to cancel her trip. I've begged her not to, and she has agreed. And she better keep that promise. I'm already inconveniencing way more people that I've ever wanted to, and I'm doing it for the second time in four months, and I don't want to add her to that list. Read this, Brittney: if you cancel your trip, I will absolutely pop a stitch. I mean it. Thanks to the time difference, you will be asleep in Vegas when I'm having this thing done, and when you wake up, it will be to a phone call that everything is A-OK. Got it? Good. I love you. XOXO

2. I'm inconveniencing everyone I love. I will need someone with me round the clock for 6 weeks. I'm putting them through something for the second time in four months, and it's not fair to them. My parents, Kyle's parents, our sisters (and brother-in-law)...and especially my amazing, wonderful husband. He spent every night in the hospital with me when I was there for the two weeks surrounding Ella's birth. And I'm doing it to him again. Not to mention the fact that I'm coming home with a less sexy back of head and neck. No more head rubs for this girl. Or ponytails, for that matter.

1. The number one thing, the thing that has caused me the most heartache and has been the biggest source of my meltdowns, has everything to do with my beautiful baby daughter. I'm supposed to be planning her first beach trip, not brain surgery. She and I have matching birthmarks on the back of our necks, but after they cut through my head and neck, they won't be the same anymore. She will never remember this, and I'm eternally grateful for that. But I can't pick her up for 2 months. That's better than the 6 months that I originally read, but still. I can hold her, but someone will have to hand her to me. I can't be left alone with her because I can't pick her up. The most important job I have is to be her mother, and I can't really and completely do that for 2 months. Luckily, there is no shortage of people who want to take care of her. But I just wanted this year to be fun and carefree, and so far, it's not shaping up that way. The most important thing, though, is that I come home to her in the end. I will work through everything else.

Ok. So I think that's it. I told you that I'm having surgery, how I found the problem, what it is, symptoms, treatment, complications and downsides. I think that covers it. So let's end on a positive note, shall we? This really sucks, but it could absolutely be worse. I'm going to a great hospital and have an amazing support system. And when it's over and done with, I will have an improved quality of life - no more headaches, no progression of the condition and no further symptoms. And one day, when my baby girl has a problem, I will be able to tell her how I handled a less than fabulous situation with humor and rationale...after a few meltdowns, of course. Not only that, but it gave me a great topic for my 1,000th tweet, and I have a wide variety of Halloween costumes now open to me. I'm also looking forward to the perspective that I'm sure to have after this is all over. What is spilled milk, really, compared to this? Nada:)

So...that's it. Carry on:)

Ella's first cold:)

A lot has happened since I was an avid blogger, but my goal now is to just catch up. I will hit the high points and skim the low ones when I can, and when I remember them:)

My baby girl got her first cold last week. She had a little bit of a dry cough. It was so minor that we actually thought she had just learned how to do it, so she was amusing herself. Then came the runny nose. Again, it's one of those things that was probably harder on me than it was on her. I called her doctor every other day until they told me to just come in. The nurse said, "I"m sure she's fine, but you sound concerned, so why don't you come in..." Yep, I'm on my way.

I worked from home on Tuesday so I could stay with her, then Kyle stayed with her on Wednesday and Thursday, and then we split Friday. That allowed her to stay home with the humidifier for 24 hours a day and not go to school. We did that and suctioned her nose out as needed, along with giving her saline nose drops as needed. She went back to school this past Monday, then stayed at home with Kyle Tuesday and Wednesday because he was off those days. She seems like she is almost back to normal, but it's been a rather sleepless experience for me. She's been totally fine. We have to wake her up in the morning because she wants to sleep in, but I wake up every hour just to check on her. Like I said - probably harder on her than it is on me.

Her first sick day:(

Love from the Easter Bunny:)

We took Ella to Fort Payne for Easter, which was also her first trip to FP. We spent one night at my parents's house and one night at Kyle's parents' house. The Easter Bunny visited Ella at both houses! She got the all-important diapers, as well as a mermaid beach towel with her name on it, personalized sand pail with goodies and two baskets full of fun stuff like books, toys, bath toys, bibs and her first camouflage, ruffled onesie (courtesy of Aunt Allie).

We also went to church, which is the same church Kyle and I were married in. She was an excellent baby. She slept the entire time. I passed her off to Granna during the service, though, because my child is like her mother - she gives off more body heat than she knows what to do with. I was SWEAT-ING. She is sooo hot. But other than that, she was the perfect baby.

We then went and had her first Easter egg hunt. She found all of the eggs all by herself, including the prize egg!

All in all, I would say that Ella is a very, very lucky girl:)

Our sweet family before church

Longest 8 hours of my life...

I'm an awful blogger. I know. I can't even begin to tell you how much is going on right now, largely because I'm not ready to, but just know that I have an amazing excuse. No, I'm not pregnant again, and no, I have no immediate plans for departure from anywhere (work, Atlanta, this life, etc.) So I ask forgiveness, and with that, we're moving on. Additionally, I started this post the last week of April. Today is May 26. I don't know if it will show today's date or the date I started this draft as the actual post date. But I wanted to be honest and let you know that you're going to see a few posts in a row. A girl's gotta do what a girl's got time to do. Now the topic of this post...

Ella has started "school." I actually started back to work on April 20, but my mom and Kyle's mom (her Gigi and Granna) stayed with us and took care of her the first week. That way, I wouldn't have to jump in all at once. Those days were long, and yes I cried all night Tuesday and all day Wednesday, but because I knew she was home with people she knew, I didn't worry as much.

But her first day - good grief. I couldn't bring myself to tell her "bye" that morning. Every time I looked at her, I cried. Luckily, I'm swamped with work, so I don't have time to sit and sob. But, my heart hurts every minute of the day. Before Ella, our group worked 9ish-6ish. It was usually more like 6:30 and sometimes later when we left, but I can't do that anymore. School closes at 6:30, and it's $1 per minute that you are late after that. Plus, school is in Kennesaw, which is closer to our house. So I've shifted to being 8 a.m. - 5 p.m. most days. There are some days when Kyle can pick her up, but our regular routine is that he drops her off and I pick her up. The days where I have to drop her off...well...let's not think about that right now:)

The fact that school is in Kennesaw means I've got one heck of a commute to pick her up. It took me an hour and 20 minutes yesterday to get there from work. Atlanta traffic...thorn in my side. I left work at 5 p.m. and pulled in at 6:20 p.m. It's only 25 miles, but if you don't live here, then you won't understand.

When I walked in her room, she was in her crib, entertaining herself with her mobile. The teacher had just fed her and changed her and put her down, and she was having a big time all on her own. I grabbed her up before she could render who I was. Seeing her so happy made me feel better. It is true...school is much harder on the parents than on the kiddos.

What I've learned so far...

Blogging is hard when you have a little one. Case in point...I started this draft on March 8. Today is April 9. Being productive has been a challenge, period. I either want to hold her or she wants to be held, so I very rarely have two free hands. I have been making notes on my phone so that I remember what I wanted to blog about so that, whenever time rolls around, I cover everything I wanted to. I know things will get lost in the mix, but that's ok. I also have a ton of pictures, but I haven't had time to upload them. Her newborn pictures are fantastic, but I'm biased. Hopefully, I will manage to get them up soon. In the meantime, I wanted to share what I've learned so far about my little princess...

1. My princess has some not-so-princess-like habits. She...well...let's see, how do I say this delicately...she toots. A lot. I didn't even know babies did that. But my girl does. She won't burp to save her life, though. She has apparently chosen her method of relieving herself. It's pretty hilarious. I know that I probably won't think it's as funny if she is still doing it when she is five years old, but I do know that I will miss it. How crazy is that? :)

2. She's no dummy. The doctors told me that she would probably be about a month behind because she was a month premature. Apparently, they didn't know who her parents were. She may be a little behind growth-wise - at 2 months, she is 9 lbs 5 oz and 22 inches long - but her development has been right on cue. And she is so alert. She is doing a great job of holding her head up and making noises. She's spectacular to watch.

3. She really only has two prerequisites. That whatever it is, it must be soft and warm. And if it comes with milk, even better. We've had to translate this into bathtime. She hated it at first, mostly because she was cold. But now that her lower half is constantly in water, she's a little better. If Daddy is around, then he constantly pours warm water over her while I'm doing the work. That part, she looovvveeesss.

4. If you aren't doing anything, then you better be holding her. And if you are doing something, you better stop and hold her. She has periods during the day where she will lay on her back and entertain herself, but for the most part, she would prefer to not be flat on her back.

5. My girl has a face for everything. To be so little, she can convey every emotion in 30 seconds, just by using her face. Priceless.

6. If it comes anywhere near her mouth, she will try to eat it. No exceptions. And she will eat until you take it away from her. No kidding. If I don't limit her intake, she will eat until she's sick.

7. She can sleep through pretty much anything. If she is asleep in her bouncy seat, I can literally run the vacuum right by her, and she won't budge.

8. She loves her Boppy newborn lounger. When she came home, she was too little to sit in her bouncy seat or her MamaRoo. But she nestled right into her lounger. It saved us, especially in the beginning. It was the only way she would consent to being put down. It honestly was probably the best thing we bought.

Those are the main things I have so far. There is so much more, and I learn every day. There has been so much else going on too, but it's hard to go through it all without this being 14 pages long. In a nutshell, she has had many visitors and she has been to the Aquarium to meet everyone I work with. We are taking her to FP for Easter so she can meet the rest of the family. I go back to work April 20. That's all I can say about that because just typing those few words has made my body temperature rise about 8 degrees and my eyes are welling up...so...moving on...  I finally got her nursery finished. Now that everything is on the walls, I can see where I want some different things, but all in good time. And she is just now starting to fit into her 0-3 months clothing. Most of her newborn stuff still fits, but she now has some more options:)

And on that note, I must depart. It's 8:50 p.m., and the little one eats at 9 p.m. Hopefully it won't be months before I do this again, but no promises:)

Surprise! Ella has arrived!

So...a lot has happened since my last post. A. Lot. So this is going to be a really long post, because as I mentioned, a lot has happened. When I posted last Monday, Jan. 24, I had just been readmitted to the hospital because my blood pressure at my weekly doctor's appointment was high again - 160/117. At the time I posted, I thought that I might get to go home on Tuesday. Obviously, that didn't happen. So...here we go.

On Tuesday, I was still in the hospital and waiting for the doctor to come around for my update. I sent Kyle to work because I didn't think there was any reason for him to sit in the room with me all day. He left the hospital around 9:15 a.m. About 10 a.m., my doctor and midwife came to my room and ran through my situation. Basically, my pregnancy induced hypertension (PIH), which I was diagnosed with the previous week, had become preclampsia and was approaching severe preclampsia, and they had made the decision to induce me. I panicked because I was only 35 weeks 2 days, but they assured me that the baby would be fine and that it was better to get her out now instead of waiting. I then picked up the phone and called Kyle, who had been at work for 45 minutes, and told him he needed to head back because it was time. I called my mom and told her to put her bag in the car and call my sister because the doctor had decided to induce me. Things were rolling.

They injected labetalol into my IV, which was to lower my blood pressure. It didn't work, so they started a magnesium drip into my IV, which was to prevent me from having a seizure due to my high blood pressure.  I was also receiving fluids and an antibiotic drip. The antibiotic drip was because I had not been tested for strep B yet, which all pregnant women are tested for in week 36. I obviously didn't make it to the 36-week test, so it was a precaution. And since I was being induced, they started a pitocin drip. Count them out. I was attached to an IV with four bags hanging off the pole. The magnesium drip was painful because it was a high concentration and they were pumping it in so fast - I didn't cry until the nurse turned it on, and it burned so badly that I couldn't stop crying. She would turn it off and on so that I could have a break from it. After we got through the first bag of magnesium, they started using bags that were half the concentration and dripped at a slower pace, so it was much more tolerable. The magnesium made me a little loopy and slightly nauseous, but the bigger problem was that it would pass to Ella. They said it was safe for her, but it would affect her. They started my drip on Tuesday morning, and they left me hooked up to it until Thursday.

Around noon on Tuesday, they wheeled me into my labor and delivery room. At 1 p.m., they broke my water. It was absolutely disgusting. It felt like a huge warm gush of water, and it didn't stop. After while, I had to go to the restroom, so my midwife helped me out of bed and wheeled my IV pole with me. But when I stood up, more amniotic fluid started running onto the floor. My poor husband. I'm glad that I was too consumed in what was going on to look at his face, but I'm sure he was horrified. My midwife was laughing, and then Kyle was laughing, and all I could do was say, "What's going on?! Oh no!" So then the midwife had to mop up the river I left behind me. Luckily, the magnesium had also doped me up to a level that made me less sensitive than usual, so I quickly got over my embarrassment.

My contractions at first weren't terrible, so I told them I wanted to wait before receiving the epidural. I honestly had been dreading the epidural for as long as I can remember - I hate needles, so the thought of one going into my spine was dreadful. I told my midwife that I wanted to be in enough pain that the epidural was worth it. Around 4 p.m, I started to waiver. Kyle challenged me to hold out until 4:30, so that is what I aimed for. At 4:45, I pushed my call button and said I was ready. I had had enough. They then hooked up an internal monitor to accurately measure my contractions, and they had already reached 100 in strength. Yeah. That's right. It made me feel much more justified in calling it quits. By the time the anesthesiologist made it to the room, I was ready to saw my body in half, so I was VERY ready for the epidural. The nurse sat me up and bent me over, and she told me to hold onto my knees and try not to move. Kyle stood in front of me, and I hooked my hands in his pockets. The nurse told me to take a deep breath, and then I felt the needle go in. The anxiety of the entire process was way worse than the actual epidural. It wasn't bad at all - definitely worth it. About 10 minutes later, I didn't feel anything at all. I could see the monitor and watch my contractions approaching, reaching 100 again, and then passing, but I didn't feel anything. I actually took a power nap for about an hour. The magnesium was also to blame for this - it became increasingly difficult to focus, and I threw up while I was in labor. Then I developed what they call a hot spot, which is a place where the epidural doesn't quite reach, or where it is no longer effective. My hot spot was in my lower right abdomen, and it felt like a thousand knives were plunging into that one area. The nurse gave me several boosters of my epidural, and she had to call the anesthesiologist twice to come back and deliver more medicine directly into my back. The spot never went away. It eased up a little when the meds were injected right into my back, but I still always felt my contractions there. All I could do was grip the side of the bed and breathe. Yay labor!

When I got the epidural, I was dilated 4 cm. A few hours later, I was at 6 cm. Three hours later, I was still at 6 cm. My midwife, Deena, said that if I hadn't made progress in a few hours, we would have to talk about a c-section. They were worried about my labor elevating my blood pressure to a certain level, and cautioned me that, at some point, we may have to call it. So Deena made me lay on my right side, and she put a stirrup in the air. I had to put my left leg in the stirrup, laying with my leg up in the air, to try to move things along. Three hours later, I had reached 9 cm. Very shortly after that, I knew it was time to push. I honestly felt like the baby was going to come out any second, so the nurse paged Deena, and within 5 minutes, she was back in the room, rolling me onto my back, telling me how to push. I pushed through four contractions, which in total lasted about 10 minutes, and 13 hours from when we started, at 1:54 a.m. on Wednesday, Jan. 26, Ella was here. 6 lbs 8 oz and 18.5 inches long. And you know what, I didn't feel a thing. I didn't feel a bit of Ella's delivery. At least, not that I remember. I felt a little bit of pressure, but that was it. It wasn't bad at all. And the sound that child made when she first cried... I can't explain it. It was the most amazing sound I've ever heard, and I immediately burst into laughter and tears. But things still didn't go as planned after Ella was delivered.

They immediately took her over to the table set up for her, and the NICU nurses started working with her. The nurse took my temperature, and I had a fever. That meant that I couldn't hold my baby. They cleaned her up and handed her to Kyle, but I couldn't touch her. An hour later, they wrapped her up and let me hold her for 10 minutes, but I couldn't touch her skin. Then they took her away. She went upstairs to get a bath, and everyone went upstairs with her to watch. The moms and dads stayed upstairs, and Kyle, my sister and his sister came back to my room. The nurse came in and got me ready to go to a recovery room. They said that they were going to keep Ella in the nursery, and when the pediatrician made rounds in the morning, they would bring her to me. Morning came around, and Ella never came. Then, the doctors came in and told me that she had been sent to the NICU from the nursery because she was having desaturations, which meant that the amount of oxygen in her blood decreases below a certain level. They said it could be a result of her being premature, but that it was most likely due to the amount of magnesium she had received from me. The magnesium had acted like a muscle relaxer, and it had impaired her breathing enough that she needed more attentive care. All I wanted to do was go and see her, so they checked my blood pressure, and it was through the roof. They told me I couldn't go anywhere until it reached a certain level. At this point, everyone had got to hold Ella for longer than I had. That didn't do much to help my blood pressure. At 7 p.m. on Wednesday, the nurse came in with a wheelchair and said I could go and see her. I later found out that Kyle had gone all Shirley MacLaine in "Terms of Endearment" and told them that if they wanted my blood pressure to go down, then they would find a way to let me see my baby.

So Kyle and I went upstairs and I got to see Ella for what felt like the first time. She had an IV in her hand and was hooked up to a few monitors. It broke my heart, but I was glad that I was finally able to hold her. I was only allowed to stay for 45 minutes, so I stared at her for the entire time.

We went back to the room, and I hoped that Ella would be well enough soon to come and stay with us, but it wasn't in the cards. She ended up staying in the NICU for the entire time. On Thursday, they removed my magnesium drip, and it made a world of difference in how I felt. I was able to take a shower and focus my eyes. I was also able to walk upstairs to the NICU instead of being wheeled up there with my IV pole. I was also moved to a new recovery room, off the postpartum floor. It had a couch for Kyle, which was better because he had been sleeping in a chair. In the two weeks I was in the hospital (the previous week for high blood pressure, then this week for blood pressure and delivery), I never spent one night by myself:) By Friday, I thought I was going to be discharged, but my blood pressure was still high, and I developed a blood clot in my leg. So I was stuck for another night, but I didn't mind because Ella wasn't going home either.  She was still in the NICU so they could monitor her magnesium levels and breathing. We did find out on Friday that her blood cultures came back negative for infection, so they removed her IV. Still, the thought of leaving and not taking her with me was unbearable. But that's what happened. On Saturday, I was discharged, but Ella wasn't quite ready yet. Her magnesium level was still a little high, and she was spending her second day doing phototherapy for jaundice - basically she had a tanning bed light over her to help her bilirubin levels. Her breathing had been better, and she hadn't had any desats that they were concerned about.

We thought we were going to do her car seat test on Friday, but the doctor said she would probably fail, so we did it on Saturday. Any infants born prior to 36 weeks or who experience respiratory problems are required to take the car seat test. The test requires the parents to put the infant in their car seat, properly strap him or her in, then monitor her vitals and breathing for 90 minutes. If she desets below the required level and doesn't normalize within 20 seconds, she would fail the test. My girl passed with flying colors. And because we were waiting on the nurse to come back and confirm, she went 10 minutes past the 90-minute mark. Her daddy teased that now she was just showing off:)

Passing the car seat test, along with her decreased magnesium level and improved bilirubin levels, meant that she was ready for final inspection. Kyle and I stayed at the hospital until midnight, when we had to leave my recovery room. We stayed at a hotel across the street because neither of us wanted to go home without her. Both of our parents went back to Alabama for the night to repack and rest, and if Ella was cleared to go home the following morning, they would be on their way back. My sister and her husband came up on Saturday to see Ella at the hospital, so they stayed the night at our house and met us at the NICU on Sunday morning. The doctor came by and cleared Ella - FINALLY, our girl was going home.

Brittney and I dressed her up for her trip home, and Brittney and Nick were our photographer and videographer for the hospital departure and home arrival. Ella didn't mind her car ride home, and we finally got to our house around noon. That's when it set in. Our family was finally together and whole and where we belonged.

Now I'm the happiest and most terrified I've ever been. All I did at first was stare at her. Now I can leave the room and not take her with me - as long as someone else is holdng onto her. Nighttime has been the most difficult. If I fall asleep, I wake up every 20 minutes to make sure she is ok. If she breathes loudly, I wake up. She is on a 3-hour schedule, so she eats at 12 a.m., 3 a.m., 6 a.m., 9 a.m., 12 p.m., 3 p.m., 6 p.m. and 9 p.m. We've been to the pediatrician twice now, and her weight is back up. When we left the hospital, she was down to 6 lbs, but she is back up to 6 lbs 6 oz, which is great progress. The doctor also said her lungs sound perfect, and her jaundice is completely gone. So far, our girl is doing great. Our moms have been with us since she came home last week, and they are going to be with us all next week too. Kyle went back to work on Tuesday, and I wasn't quite ready to be on my own yet:)

So that is where we are now. I celebrated my first birthday as a mommy, complete with a card and gift from Ella. She even signed it with a hot pink footprint for me. Our families have been coming and going, everyone coming to meet and hold our girl. And despite the fact that everything was in the same place it was when I left our house last week, everything has changed. My entire outlook, my priorities, everything...I had no idea that so much would be so different. My love for her and Kyle have completely changed everything about me, and I wouldn't have it any other way. So now, I am transitioning the blog from the ups and downs of pregnancy to our new life with Ella. It's going to be even harder now to update, just because a new baby means there are less hours in the day, but I will do the best I can. If I go a week or two without anything, you know why:)

In the NICU

With her Aunt Britt. You will see the velcro patches she had to wear for her shades during her jaundice tanning sessions.

Car seat test:)

On her way to the doctor

On her way home from the hospital after four days in the NICU

Annnnnnddd....we're back:(

Okay, so I left out the middle. Last time I updated, we found out we were staying in the hospital until Friday. During that time, my parents made it back to Alabama; I got my computer and was able to work all day Thursday and Friday (thank goodness); and Kyle and his mom went to Babies R Us on a mini shopping spree. That was probably more emotional for me than anything else. I cried for 20 minutes after they left because I had really looked forward to buying Ella all the little things she needed. I had a big list - and if you know me, you know I love my lists. And I missed out on all of it. They did bring me back a burrito bowl from Chipotle, so that helped ease the pain. They also brought in all the bags and had show-and-tell in my hospital room. That helped a little more.

On Friday, the doctor came in and said that, combined with all of my good test results, my blood pressure had stayed at a safe range for a long enough period that it was okay for me to go home. So that's what we did. When we got home, we discovered that Kyle's mom had been a very busy bee at the house while she was here. Every bit of our laundry was done. And I mean every bit. Kyle even said that there were things he forgot he had. I know that's a total dig on me, but it's true. My mom and dad were also waiting for us at the house when we arrived. Mom stayed with us that night, and my sister came up on Saturday. Kyle had to work on Saturday, so they were in charge of making sure I stuck to the whole bedrest thing.

On Saturday, my mom and sister were major worker bees. They made a palette in the floor of Ella's nursery for me, and I laid there and watched them put the whole room together. I wish I had thought to take before and after pictures, because it went from being a room full of stuff and boxes to being an actual nursery. It was amazing. Mom also finished washing all of Ella's clothes, towels, burp cloths, hats, etc., and Brittney went and got her some more hairbows (hey...we've got our priorities...), so we are in a much better position than we were a week ago. And then when Kyle got home, they ran more errands for me and picked up the things I needed that I didn't want to make my poor husband buy. They went back home Saturday night, and then it was just Kyle bossing me around on Sunday. Well, not really bossing me around, because I can't go anywhere or do anything, but Kyle making sure I stayed immobile.

Bedrest has been quite the struggle, mentally and physically. My body aches all over from inactivity, and the inability to do things for myself really sucks. And it's not even an inability - it's someone telling me constantly that I can't do this or do that, and therefore having to ask for every little thing. I know that there are so many other women who have more problems and more serious problems during their pregnancy, so despite the glitches I've had, I'm still very lucky. And I've received some of the sweetest and most encouraging messages from people, all of which have helped me keep a positive attitude. Well, as positive as I'm known to be, anyhow.

Fast-forward to today. I had a doctor's appointment at 2:45 p.m. After being thrown in the hospital last week unexpectedly, I knew we needed to be prepared. We packed our bag and Ella's bag, installed the car seat and ordered the rest of what we needed online. I came to terms with the fact that there will just be things I have to do to her nursery after she gets here. The child won't know that her curtains are white instead of green, and that's okay. I also decided to throw my computer in the car, just in case. And guess what, I'm back. My blood pressure at the doctor's office was 160/120, which is no bueno. So they wheeled me back to the hospital and up to the floor where they keep the high risk pregnancy patients. They stuck an IV in my hand to administer medicine that would lower my blood pressure and then took blood out of the other arm. This time, the IV nurse let the blood spurt out and I felt it running down my arm, where it then puddled on my bed. Not for this girl. I just kept watching and talking to Kyle and told him not to look. The more he looked, the more I wanted to, and I knew that would be a bad decision. I've been here for a few hours now, and my BP is still on up there. So now we just wait for labwork to come back and I'm doing another 24-hour test, so the earliest I could go home would be tomorrow night around 9 p.m. The nurses at Northside are fantastic, and I've had some of the same ones from last week, who remembered me. They don't seem to think that I will go home pregnant, but that's what they said last week. Luckily, we are in a better place than we were a week ago because Ella is now 35 weeks and 1 day, and it may not seem important, but every day counts.

I left out the most important part. Ella is totally fine. I'm having a fair number of contractions, but they don't seem too concerned about it right now.None of this seems to phase her. I've been on the fetal monitor for a few hours now, and she seems as happy and comfy as can be.  That is absolutely all that matters. Not how long I have to be here or how many times they stick needles and IVs in me. As long as she is lounging in there and feels pretty good about it, I can take what they throw at me. Hopefully I will get to go home tomorrow or soon, but if I don't, then when I do go home, I will hopefully be taking a beautiful little girl with me:)