As I mentioned before, my daughter "M" was born 13 weeks early. When I was 24 weeks pregnant I went to what I thought was just a normal prenatal checkup and next thing I knew I was on a helicopter. I didn't even know I was in labor, wasn't it supposed to hurt? They were able to slow the contractions that I didn't even know I was having, and by the grace of God, and some amazing doctors and learning to eat soup laying down so I didn't have to sit up for any reason I was able to keep M in for another three weeks. You want to know what love is? Love is having a husband and mother in law wiping your butt for you because you aren't even allowed to do that yourself, it's not pretty folks. The first thing you learn when dealing with pre-term labor is every hour, day, week, counts, I truly believe if she had come at 24 weeks, she would not be here with us today. M spent 92 days in the hospital, we had some serious road blocks, but she overcame everything that was thrown at her, and right now, less than 2 months away from her 3rd birthday, she is a normal healthy child, with one exception.
M has something called Vesicoureteral reflux (VUR for short). You can "Google it" for all the finer details, but in short, it is the back flow of urine from the bladder to the kidneys. This makes her very prone to urinary tract infections. Because M was getting a lot of infections we chose to have corrective surgery about 6 weeks ago, unfortunately she has had 2 infections since then. They placed stents when the surgery was performed to help keep things open while she healed and we are thinking this might be contributing to the current infections, good news, they are scheduled to come out on Tuesday.
Bad news, my saint of a mother in law, seriously guys, she's awesome (see butt wiping above) and my father in law, also pretty great, watch M for us during the day so we don't have to have her in daycare, my MIL calls me at work yesterday to tell me M doesn't seem to be feeling good. I go pick her up and discover she has a 102 degree fever, just great. My first thought "UTI" but there is no way, she is on a super powerful antibiotic to prevent infections until the stents come out. This morning she wakes up with a stuffy nose and at this point I am thinking she just has a cold. The problem, if she is running a fever and has a cold they can't do the stent removal procedure, if they can't remove the stents she is more likely to get yet another UTI, if she gets a UTI and runs a fever they can't remove the stents...you see where I am going with this? I am pumping her full of Tylenol and elderberry syrup to give her an immune boost to hopefully help her get over this before Monday. This is her first cold of the winter, hopefully it is short lived. Positive thoughts for a speedy recovery welcomed!
Joy*
Saturday, February 28, 2015
"Do you have to spit or swab?"
"The journey of a thousand miles, begins with a single step." or so says Lao Tzu. I guess, this is my step, although the past 9 years it has felt more like two steps forward and one step back. I can't say for sure where this blog will lead or what the shining focus will be. I guess the best place to start is the beginning.
I was born 31 years ago to a mother, that just wasn't quite ready for the responsibility, I guess if truth be told, even after 31 years, she still isn't ready. Lucky for me I had grandparents and aunts and uncles who were willing to step up and fill in the gaps, even though there were times my mother didn't make it easy on them. She used me as a pawn in some elaborate chess game, never paying too much attention to me, but always ready to use me in battle when it suited her.
I don't know my biological father, my entire life I was always told his name, and fed lies when I would ask my mother questions, a fairy tale she created in her mind. When I was around 22 I decided it was time to find him, my mother and I already had strained relationship so I did not include her in the search. I located him, let's call him "S" and from the first conversation he was very open to the possibility of being my father. "S" even offered to fly to Texas to meet me. Being the ever cautious soul I am though, I asked for a paternity test. I didn't want to get too close to someone, only to be let down. I think a part of me knew the truth. The day the test came back negative, I was devastated. My mother had no idea what was going on, I had talked to her the day before, just normal every day talk, that was the last time I would speak to her. My aunt confronted her with the test results, in hindsight that was probably not the best decision and let's just say it turned out...badly... After finding out Mother tried to reach out to me, not to apologize, or see how I was doing, or to figure things out, but to leave a voice mail that was so horrible, and hateful, that my husband wouldn't even let me hear it. Mother still insists "S" is my father, unfortunately he has since passed away. I am at an impasse right now, do I continue on? Do I try to sort through the truth and lies, without any help from Mother, to find the truth, whatever that may be, about my biological father, or do I just forget it? I have decided to plow ahead, to do whatever I can to find the truth, even though I may not like the final results. Which leads me to the title of today's blog post. After a short hiatus from the search, I am beginning again, going over my files on possible men who could be my father, and figuring out if there is any one else I can talk to for clues. I also ordered today, from Family Tree DNA, a DNA kit so that I can see if I have any possible relative matches out there, and hopefully that will provide me with some answers. A co-worker asked if I had to spit into a vial or just do a cheek swab, apparently he did it with another company that required a vial of spit, I am hoping for a swab....stay tuned.
I am also a wife, to a wonderful husband, we have been married almost 10 years and he is always willing to put up with the craziness I throw at him with a smile on his face, most of the time. We have a beautiful daughter, who will be 3 soon. We fought hard to get her, almost 7 years of fertility treatment, and fought even harder to keep her when she decided to come 13 weeks early. She is now healthy and amazing, and the strongest human I know.
This post was a little longer than I planned, but that is me in a nutshell, without all the nice filler. A search for a bio dad, a crazy preschooler at home, and a Pinterest page 50 boards long, that's what you can expect to find here, those are the pieces that make the puzzle that is my life.
Until Next Time,
Joy
I was born 31 years ago to a mother, that just wasn't quite ready for the responsibility, I guess if truth be told, even after 31 years, she still isn't ready. Lucky for me I had grandparents and aunts and uncles who were willing to step up and fill in the gaps, even though there were times my mother didn't make it easy on them. She used me as a pawn in some elaborate chess game, never paying too much attention to me, but always ready to use me in battle when it suited her.
I don't know my biological father, my entire life I was always told his name, and fed lies when I would ask my mother questions, a fairy tale she created in her mind. When I was around 22 I decided it was time to find him, my mother and I already had strained relationship so I did not include her in the search. I located him, let's call him "S" and from the first conversation he was very open to the possibility of being my father. "S" even offered to fly to Texas to meet me. Being the ever cautious soul I am though, I asked for a paternity test. I didn't want to get too close to someone, only to be let down. I think a part of me knew the truth. The day the test came back negative, I was devastated. My mother had no idea what was going on, I had talked to her the day before, just normal every day talk, that was the last time I would speak to her. My aunt confronted her with the test results, in hindsight that was probably not the best decision and let's just say it turned out...badly... After finding out Mother tried to reach out to me, not to apologize, or see how I was doing, or to figure things out, but to leave a voice mail that was so horrible, and hateful, that my husband wouldn't even let me hear it. Mother still insists "S" is my father, unfortunately he has since passed away. I am at an impasse right now, do I continue on? Do I try to sort through the truth and lies, without any help from Mother, to find the truth, whatever that may be, about my biological father, or do I just forget it? I have decided to plow ahead, to do whatever I can to find the truth, even though I may not like the final results. Which leads me to the title of today's blog post. After a short hiatus from the search, I am beginning again, going over my files on possible men who could be my father, and figuring out if there is any one else I can talk to for clues. I also ordered today, from Family Tree DNA, a DNA kit so that I can see if I have any possible relative matches out there, and hopefully that will provide me with some answers. A co-worker asked if I had to spit into a vial or just do a cheek swab, apparently he did it with another company that required a vial of spit, I am hoping for a swab....stay tuned.
I am also a wife, to a wonderful husband, we have been married almost 10 years and he is always willing to put up with the craziness I throw at him with a smile on his face, most of the time. We have a beautiful daughter, who will be 3 soon. We fought hard to get her, almost 7 years of fertility treatment, and fought even harder to keep her when she decided to come 13 weeks early. She is now healthy and amazing, and the strongest human I know.
This post was a little longer than I planned, but that is me in a nutshell, without all the nice filler. A search for a bio dad, a crazy preschooler at home, and a Pinterest page 50 boards long, that's what you can expect to find here, those are the pieces that make the puzzle that is my life.
Until Next Time,
Joy
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)