On Friday morning my husband and I did something crazy for two sleep-deprived thirty-year-old parents: We flew to California for the weekend, sans children. A good friend of mine from college was getting married, and when she announced that the wedding would be in Pasadena, there was no doubt in our minds that we'd attend, even though doing so meant leaving our three-year-old and three-month-old at home with my parents for two nights.
I have been simultaneously looking forward to and dreading this trip since before Peanut was born. I mean, who wouldn't want to go to California, if only for a mere fifty hours? Low humidity, incredible fast-food hamburgers, the way people's conversations revolve around the freeways: These are a few things I adore about Southern California. But jetting off to the Golden State meant stocking the freezer with enough food for Peanut and fervently praying that this mommy-loving child would eventually break down and take a bottle. My paralyzing fear that my baby might not eat in my absence almost persuaded me to cancel the trip. But then I thought about how amazing it would be to wake up just one morning in a way that does not involve someone forcefully prying my eyelids open while shouting "It's breakfast time! It's breakfast time! I want oatmeal," and, well, flight on.
To maximize our stay out west, we took a 7 a.m. flight on Friday. Most passengers were fast asleep before takeoff, but I chose to savor the six uninterrupted hours of me-time by sipping complimentary coffee, reading Traditional Home and Runners World, and jamming to my iPod. I created two playlists for the trip: One consisting solely of songs that mention California to set the mood for our visit, and another with songs about New York and home to listen to on the way back to JFK.
JFK---------->LAX
1. Al Jolson, "California, Here I Come" (When I was a little girl, this unofficial state song used to play on the Disney channel, with a smiling sun bouncing up and down over the lyrics. It made California seem like a happy, majestic place, and I promised myself I would visit there someday. I finally did, for the first time, just after I turned 29-years-old. "Open up that golden gate, California, here I come!")
2. Delta Spirit, "California" (This song makes me want to up and move to California every time I hear it.)
3. 2Pac, "California Love"
4. Red Hot Chili Peppers, "Californication"
5. Marlena Shaw, "California Soul" ("No matter what you do it's gonna get a hold on you...")
6. The Mamas and the Papas, "California Dreamin'" ("...on such a winter's day...")
7. The Eagles, "Hotel California" (Obviously)
8. Weezer, "Beverly Hills"
9. Bob Seger, "Hollywood Nights" ("She stood as bright as the sun on that California coast")
10. Phantom Planet, "California" (Feel the angst. By the way, The O.C. first aired TEN YEARS ago. As if having two children and a mommy tummy didn't make me feel old enough already.)
11. Vampire Weekend, "California English"
12. Kings of Leon, "California Waiting"
13. Dawes, "Time Spent in Los Angeles" (Minnow's favorite song of life.)
14. The Head and the Heart, "Down in the Valley" ("I know there's California, Oklahoma, and all of the places I ain't ever been to...")
15. Sheryl Crow, "All I Wanna Do (Is Have Some Fun) ("...until the sun comes up over Santa Monica Boulevard") (Oh, and if you really want to feel old, that song came out TWENTY YEARS ago.)
16. Katy Perry, "California Gurls"
17. Dante Thomas, "Miss California" (This song reminds me so much of my friend whose wedding we just attended because she used to play it on a loop freshman year, I think to make the points that a) she was from California; and b) she was hot.)
18. The Notorious B.I.G. "Going Back to Cali"
19. Counting Crows, "Long December" ("If you think you might come to California, I think you should...")
20. Joni Mitchell, "California"
21. Billy Bragg & Wilco, "California Stars" (No song makes me miss California as much after I leave.)
LAX---------->JFK
1. Dan Auerbach, "Goin' Home" (From the movie Up in the Air. Personally, I like Dan Auerbach's solo stuff better than his Black Keys stuff; I also think this is one of the most beautiful songs ever written.)
2. Diddy Dirty Money, "Coming Home"
3. Vampire Weekend, "M79" (Because in New York, unlike in California, taking public transportation is not stigmatizing.)
4. Ryan Adams, "New York, New York"
5. Jay Z., "Empire State of Mind" (When I ran the ING New York City Marathon, I heard this song being played each time I crossed into a new borough. For me, it is THE New York City anthem.)
6. Billy Joel, "Scenes from an Italian Restaurant" (Because, sadly, I don't live in New York City anymore; I live on Long Island. This ditty about "Brender" and Eddie is THE Long Island anthem, written by the king of Long Island.)
7. Mason Jennings, "Be Here Now," ("...no other place to be...")
8. Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeroes, "Home"
9. Phosphorescent, "Mermaid Parade" (Phosphorescent is my new favorite band, although they have, apparently, been around for a good, long time. This song, from their 2010 album Here's to Taking It Easy, is perfect because it's about life between NYC and LA.)
10. U2, "New York"
11. Alexi Murdoch, "Home"
12. Cat Power, "New York, New York" (An updated version of Frank Sinatra's classic tribute.)
13. Rosie Thomas, "Much Farther to Go" ("New York is lovely in the wintertime. The sidewalks are white as snow...")
14. Phillip Phillips, "Home"
15. Simon & Garfunkle, "The Only Living Boy in New York" ("Hey, I've got nothing today but smile...")
16. Mumford & Sons, "The Boxer" (A cover of the Simon & Garfunkle original, about the boy who left home for a chance at glory in the City.)
17. The Head and the Heart, "Honey Come Home" (I do not exaggerate when I say it is impossible for me to listen to this song without bursting into tears. I do not know why; I am not going through a separation. But the lyrics are so raw, so emotionally true, and have little to do with New York but everything to do with the things we take for granted about home life.)
18. Eddie Money, "Take Me Home Tonight" (Because you'll need something to cheer you up after that previous song.)
19. Bonnie Somerville, "Winding Road" (Which, incidentally, mentions California, but is actually a song about home.)
20. Simon & Garfunkle, "Homeward Bound" (Wow, I didn't realize I was such a Simon & Garfunkle fan until just now.)
21. Ben Folds, "Landed" ("Come pick me up, I've landed...")
Our trip to California was amazing, and being away from the kids for two days was- I'll say it- good for the soul. But when I caught a glimpse of Manhattan- all lit up at night- out my airplane window on our return trip Sunday, my heart fluttered. There really is no place like home.
Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Breastfeeding. Show all posts
Tuesday, October 29, 2013
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Miracle
I am sitting in the new glider in the yellow nursery feeding Peanut when my phone lights up. I desperately want to ignore the call, but I can't. I know it's my doctor and I know he is going to ask if I took the medicine he prescribed last night. The medicine that is supposed to help stop the heavy bleeding I'm still experiencing three weeks post-partum. The medicine that carries a label advising against breastfeeding while taking it. The medicine that I did not take last night.
"Hi, doctor," I say into the phone.
"Good morning! How are you feeling? Crampy?"
I only met this doctor eight weeks ago, when I transferred to his Long Island office from Westchester at 35 weeks, but I really like him. I don't want to disappoint him.
"No, not crampy..." I trail off.
"Why not? You didn't take the medicine?"
"Well, I didn't think I could take it while breastfeeding, and I'm just starting to establish a good supply, so..."
There is dead silence on the other end of the line. I feel like I'm back in the fifth grade, being reprimanded by my favorite teacher for rolling my knee socks down.
The doctor speaks slowly. "I don't think you understand. You need to take the medicine. I know breastfeeding is important to you, but this is a matter of life and death."
My doctor isn't one to overstate the truth, so this grabs my attention.
"I don't think you realize how lucky you are," the doctor continues. "We just got the placenta back from pathology, and that baby you're holding is a miracle."
I think to myself that after the pregnancy and delivery I just experienced, there is nothing that this man can tell me that will surprise me. If my pregnancy with Minnow was textbook, my pregnancy with Peanut was a horror story that included four hospitalizations: Two for unexplained bleeding in the first and second trimesters, one for acute food poisoning and dehydration, and one after a low-impact car accident at 32 weeks. In addition to all that, I was also diagnosed with a low-lying placenta at my twenty-week anatomical scan, and for most of the pregnancy we believed I would deliver Peanut by scheduled C-section. The placenta finally moved far enough away from the birth canal at 37 weeks, and I was cleared for a natural delivery. I was thrilled to deliver Peanut naturally four weeks later, but, unfortunately, after she came out things went very wrong. The doctor could not control the bleeding after I delivered the placenta and I was rushed to the OR for emergency surgery to treat post-partum hemorrhage. There was talk of a hysterectomy and I was scared out of my wits, but, thankfully, the doctors were able to stop the bleeding. Sort of. Three weeks after the surgery I am still experiencing heavy spotting, which is why my doctor has prescribed the medicine I refuse to take.
But all of this has little to do with what he tells me next, and it shakes me to the core.
"The pathology revealed that the baby had a velamentous cord insertion that ran for eight centimeters, resulting in a vasa previa."
I don't speak Latin, so I ask the doctor to explain.
In a normal pregnancy, the baby's veins run from the middle of the placenta to the baby through the umbilical cord. The umbilical cord protects the veins from rupture. In velamentous cord insertion, the baby's veins traverse the placental membrane unprotected before coming together in the umbilical cord. Peanut's veins ran unprotected for eight centimeters and actually crossed the birth canal, which is what is meant by vasa previa. If at 28 weeks during my food poisoning episode, at 32 weeks after the car accident, or at 41 weeks during labor and delivery these veins had torn as a result of contractions or membrane rupture, Peanut would have bled out in a matter of minutes. She would have been stillborn.
In fact, when vasa previa goes undetected, as is it did in our case, the infant mortality rate is between 50-95%. It is called the silent killer because it affects mothers and babies who enjoyed otherwise healthy, uneventful pregnancies.
When vasa previa is detected, usually by color Doppler, the survival rates jump to 50-95%. That's because when vasa previa is detected, the baby will be delivered by C-section at about 35 weeks, before the mother goes into labor. Vasa previa is so rare (1 in every 3000 pregnancies) that it is not screened for unless the mother exhibits warning signs. I've learned that I exhibited many of the warning signs for vasa previa, including unexplained late-term bleeding, low-lying placenta, and a history of non-abortive uterine surgery, but my former doctor in Westchester did not screen me for the condition.
I don't know why my former doctor didn't test me for vasa previa. I don't know why Peanut survived a natural delivery when the great majority of babies with her condition do not. I've been taught not to question miracles.
I wasn't sure I'd ever share this story on the blog, but October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and I want to raise awareness. One in 200 babies is stillborn and, sadly, some of those stillbirths cannot be prevented. But some can be, if we inform ourselves about the causes of stillbirth. If I had known about vasa previa, I would have asked to be tested for it after my first unexplained bleeding episode at 11 weeks. I would have insisted on a scheduled C-section at 35 weeks. I would not have put my baby, and myself, at risk.
To learn more about vasa previa, please visit The International Vasa Previa Foundation. My story is not meant to scare, but to inform. Vasa previa is rare, but if you or anyone you know is experiencing any of the warning signs listed on the website, insist on being screened. It may seem like another unnecessary test during pregnancy, but it just may save your baby's life.
Before we hang up and after the doctor convinces me that taking my prescription is what's right for both me and the children I need to care for, he says one more thing that deeply impacts me:
"Do you believe in God? Because I do."
"Hi, doctor," I say into the phone.
"Good morning! How are you feeling? Crampy?"
I only met this doctor eight weeks ago, when I transferred to his Long Island office from Westchester at 35 weeks, but I really like him. I don't want to disappoint him.
"No, not crampy..." I trail off.
"Why not? You didn't take the medicine?"
"Well, I didn't think I could take it while breastfeeding, and I'm just starting to establish a good supply, so..."
There is dead silence on the other end of the line. I feel like I'm back in the fifth grade, being reprimanded by my favorite teacher for rolling my knee socks down.
The doctor speaks slowly. "I don't think you understand. You need to take the medicine. I know breastfeeding is important to you, but this is a matter of life and death."
My doctor isn't one to overstate the truth, so this grabs my attention.
"I don't think you realize how lucky you are," the doctor continues. "We just got the placenta back from pathology, and that baby you're holding is a miracle."
I think to myself that after the pregnancy and delivery I just experienced, there is nothing that this man can tell me that will surprise me. If my pregnancy with Minnow was textbook, my pregnancy with Peanut was a horror story that included four hospitalizations: Two for unexplained bleeding in the first and second trimesters, one for acute food poisoning and dehydration, and one after a low-impact car accident at 32 weeks. In addition to all that, I was also diagnosed with a low-lying placenta at my twenty-week anatomical scan, and for most of the pregnancy we believed I would deliver Peanut by scheduled C-section. The placenta finally moved far enough away from the birth canal at 37 weeks, and I was cleared for a natural delivery. I was thrilled to deliver Peanut naturally four weeks later, but, unfortunately, after she came out things went very wrong. The doctor could not control the bleeding after I delivered the placenta and I was rushed to the OR for emergency surgery to treat post-partum hemorrhage. There was talk of a hysterectomy and I was scared out of my wits, but, thankfully, the doctors were able to stop the bleeding. Sort of. Three weeks after the surgery I am still experiencing heavy spotting, which is why my doctor has prescribed the medicine I refuse to take.
But all of this has little to do with what he tells me next, and it shakes me to the core.
"The pathology revealed that the baby had a velamentous cord insertion that ran for eight centimeters, resulting in a vasa previa."
I don't speak Latin, so I ask the doctor to explain.
In a normal pregnancy, the baby's veins run from the middle of the placenta to the baby through the umbilical cord. The umbilical cord protects the veins from rupture. In velamentous cord insertion, the baby's veins traverse the placental membrane unprotected before coming together in the umbilical cord. Peanut's veins ran unprotected for eight centimeters and actually crossed the birth canal, which is what is meant by vasa previa. If at 28 weeks during my food poisoning episode, at 32 weeks after the car accident, or at 41 weeks during labor and delivery these veins had torn as a result of contractions or membrane rupture, Peanut would have bled out in a matter of minutes. She would have been stillborn.
In fact, when vasa previa goes undetected, as is it did in our case, the infant mortality rate is between 50-95%. It is called the silent killer because it affects mothers and babies who enjoyed otherwise healthy, uneventful pregnancies.
When vasa previa is detected, usually by color Doppler, the survival rates jump to 50-95%. That's because when vasa previa is detected, the baby will be delivered by C-section at about 35 weeks, before the mother goes into labor. Vasa previa is so rare (1 in every 3000 pregnancies) that it is not screened for unless the mother exhibits warning signs. I've learned that I exhibited many of the warning signs for vasa previa, including unexplained late-term bleeding, low-lying placenta, and a history of non-abortive uterine surgery, but my former doctor in Westchester did not screen me for the condition.
I don't know why my former doctor didn't test me for vasa previa. I don't know why Peanut survived a natural delivery when the great majority of babies with her condition do not. I've been taught not to question miracles.
I wasn't sure I'd ever share this story on the blog, but October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, and I want to raise awareness. One in 200 babies is stillborn and, sadly, some of those stillbirths cannot be prevented. But some can be, if we inform ourselves about the causes of stillbirth. If I had known about vasa previa, I would have asked to be tested for it after my first unexplained bleeding episode at 11 weeks. I would have insisted on a scheduled C-section at 35 weeks. I would not have put my baby, and myself, at risk.
To learn more about vasa previa, please visit The International Vasa Previa Foundation. My story is not meant to scare, but to inform. Vasa previa is rare, but if you or anyone you know is experiencing any of the warning signs listed on the website, insist on being screened. It may seem like another unnecessary test during pregnancy, but it just may save your baby's life.
Before we hang up and after the doctor convinces me that taking my prescription is what's right for both me and the children I need to care for, he says one more thing that deeply impacts me:
"Do you believe in God? Because I do."
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