Frustration at Its Finest

Tonight I sit at this keyboard on my couch.
I am watching my nearly 4 week old son sleep...then not...then sleep...then not.

I am frustrated.
I am frustrated because I am too tired.

I am frustrated by how hungry my baby is at this time of day, when it is a struggle to get him to be awake enough to nurse both sides all day long. I am frustrated that he is a difficult baby to burp, and therefore he gets tummy aches and pukes...and then needs to eat a bunch more.

I am frustrated with the fact that he needs only me so much. But if I switch to formula to even the care duties and sleep, I feel like a failure and a bad mom for not giving our son my best. I am frustrated by the fact that I am feeling so selfish about this rught now.

I am frustrated by my long list of projects I'd like to do, or we'd like to do, or more so the inability to get anything done these days.

I am frustrated by myself for thinking there would be opportunities to get things done. I knew better.

I am frustrated because our outing at our friends tonight went about as well as it did last year when we tried it. Which, by the way, is not well. I wonder if we will ever get to the point of other families where you don't have to have constant vigilence...

I am frustrated that as the oldest, Kaitlynn so often gets the short end of the stick. I was in her shoes once and it bugs me when she's rightfully discontent.

I am frustrated that I have so much to get out of my head. I want to write so much about Cooper's birth, and what's rattling around in my head about that. Some of it is complete craziness, some of it is fear, some of it is amazement and awe...all of it is very real and my fingers want to unleash it from my brain.

I want to write about my last ever vist to Maida and Jack's Bar - a business my grandparents took over in 1964, with my uncle running it from 1986 until now.

I want to write about saying goodbye to my childhood home - and watching my parents things being sold at auction from our lawn. About the feelings that come with watching a "kid" you used to babysit, along with his wife and one-year-old, wander through "your" empty house as they dream about soon making it "theirs." About the odd serenity of spending one last night in a big, empty house alone...with a fussy baby by your side and a floodgate of memories running through your head.

I want to write about my son, his amazing progress lately despite the Down syndrome, and our incredible "itch" to have him talk. Things are difficult with 3 under age five...when 2 of them don't speak.

I want to write about our first IEP meeting with the school district.

Someday, I hope to be brave enough to write about a dark spot in my life - and what it is like trying to cope with it when others don't understand, and I'm continually forced to "handle it" with grace.

I want to write about all of the "lasts" I've experienced in the past three and a half weeks...my last childbirth, our last child entering our family, our last PT visit with Sharon, my last trip to Maida, my last trip "home..."

I am frustrated because I don't have the time or energy to let everything in my head flow out my fingertips. And so, day by day, more blogging piles into my head. It's like a manuscript of my life as I live it...a narrator droning on in my head.

But even with the exhaustion and frustration, I am grateful. This is my life. And it really is a good one.
I am going to attempt bed now, and I fully expect to wake up on the right side of the bed tomorrow, or probably several times with a hungry baby!

I'm Not Stupid...

I am a rational, competent human being. Over the years, I've learned that medical professionals can make me feel like I'm the complete opposite.

This week has truly been a week from hell. On Sunday, my daughter began having hives. This followed the previous weekend of fever, inscessant coughing and runny nose. She was miserable the weekend before. As we ended the second weekend, she seemed to be feeling better, but then she started with these hives. Monday morning, I wasn't 100% sure what they were and I wanted to make sure she wasn't contagious before she went to daycare with the other kids.

We went to her pediatrician. The one we've had since Kaitlynn was a baby has never had children, up until 2 years ago. She's very black and white, and what she says goes. That's pretty much her attitude, even though she's quite laid back otherwise. I've enjoyed talking to her over the years as I generally felt she made time for us and, for the most part, listened to my concerns. Or rather, her nurse did. I loved her nurse - "Melanie." I'm pretty sure we stuck around for her. She's been gone almost two years now.

On Monday, my daughter's hives looked a little bit more like chicken pox with a few weird thick spots. Her doctor found that she had a double ear infection, and said she had hives. Nothing more we could do for those but to continue the benedryl we'd been giving her since the day before. She put her on an antibiotic for her ears.

By Monday night, they were intense...and Tuesday morning they reached "absolutely ridiculous." They covered her entire body - in between fingers and toes, in her hair, up her lip...and they weren't little. The welts were unbelievable. I continued the benedryl as directed. That day was rough. We dropped Grady off at daycare and a little boy from her class saw her and was freaked out. She stayed home, and even went to work for awhile, with me.

The benedryl wasn't cutting it. We were putting ice packs on her feet because it hurt for her to walk and bend the skin around her feet. It hurt for her to bend her knees (the backs of her knees were covered).

I'm not sure what terminiology I should use for day 4. We woke up Wednesday morning and they were insane. We had started a food journal from the previous Friday on just the night before for her. After having not slept for many nights as I am basically 9 months pregnant, and dealing with my son's respiratory issues - when he gets a cold, it's never just a "little" cold (in fact I just took a break from this blog at 3 a.m. for benedryl-D and an albuterol breathing treatment for him)- waking up to day 4 was about all I could handle.

I had an OB appointment early Wednesday morning, but I called the pediatrician again and left this message, "This is riduculous. She is getting little to no relief. It hurts her to walk. They are covering her entire, and I mean entire, body - obviously the benedryl isn't working and there MUST be something else we can do. Please call me ASAP, I am very concerned and I just don't know what to do."

I was very concerned because I couldn't figure out what was the cause. Many times you just can't figure it out. But they just got worse, and now they were at her mouth. Was she continually reacting to something at our house? Would she eventually end up in anaphylactic shock?

I gave her benedryl. She wanted to go to daycare/preschool as it was library day. But she said to me, "I'm worried. I think they'll be scared of me." Her teacher tried explaining to the kids what was going on, and brave little Kaitlynn stood up and answered their questions really well. My heart broke for her in that she had to deal with all this unwanted attention, and was incredibly proud of her at the same time for her strength and ability to handle the situation.

Kai and I went to the OB appointment. 70% effaced and dilated to 3. Great. Really...any time. And I have two really sick kids. And my pediatrician is NOT calling me back. Perfect.

I lost it. My rationality flew right out the window. My gut was telling me this was no ordinary case of the hives, that I needed to find relief or figure something out for her soon - and I couldn't get the pediatrician to call back. I called and made an appointment with another doctor for 1 p.m.

By close to 11 a.m. the pediatrician's new nurse called back. "I visited with the doctor and she said she had a conversation with you on Monday about how this could last for 6 weeks..."

I knew it. I knew she was going to make me feel like an over-protective, hypochondriac mom. Check her records. She hasn't been in forever, because I'm NOT that mom. I went into bitch mode.

I felt bad for the poor new nurse, Amy. It wasn't her fault. I was annoyed with the doctor. I explained things as detailed as I could and she could hear the anger and frustration in my voice. When I got off the phone, I was glad I was going for a second opinion.

The second opinion was great. We reviewed her allergy information from 2 years ago. We went over everything in the last week. We discussed the antibiotic she was on that I was questioning. He started her on Zyrtec along with benedryl and switched her antibiotic. He told us to go to a bland diet and watch everything. I felt good. We had a plan and he listened.

Then by 2 p.m. nurse Amy called again. "I visited with the doctor again, and she thinks that Kaitlynn should see a dermatologist. I got one to come in early for you tomorrow morning at 8:45."

So I told her we just finished with a second opinion, and he got us all set up to see the allergist in just over a week again for follow up for her. But that I really like the dermatologist option. I wouldn't have been able to get an appointment for 6 months or better, but she got us in the next morning. I think she was taken back by the fact that we had a second opinion, but she knew I was thankful for her effort.

I wasn't sure if we'd go to the dermatologist or not, but I kept the appointment just in case.

I didn't have the baby, and Kaitlynn woke up on day 5 just as bad, if not worse, so we went.

I said, you'll see in her chart this is her 3rd appointment this week. Here are pictures from yesterday morning, here she is this morning with an hour's worth of benedryl under her belt.We covered everything and I ended with, "I just don't know what to do."

I kid you not. These were his words.

"This is what you do. With a case this severe, she obviously needs more help than the standard treatment. You NEED to get this under control for her."

Funny. That's what my gut has been saying all along.

We talked. He's pretty sure it's viral, related to her cold. He upped her Zyrtec and started her on a prescription anahystamine. What do you know...there IS something stronger.

I called nurse Amy and thanked her for her help and told her I thought we were on the right road, finally.

Day 6, a full day into the heavy duty plan - miraculously she's looking and feeling much better.

I hate feeling helpless. And that happens a lot in motherhood. I hate when people don't listen to my rational, competent self - making me feel crazy. And I hate when I have to pull the bitch card.

But I'm a mom. And I guess sometimes that's my job.