There are times that I find it is best to stop home school for a few days, or even weeks. This is for a variety of reasons, and can be a planned or unplanned break. We are on just such a break this week, and next. It was not planned. Here are the top ten reasons to take an unplanned break from school:
10. I knew the kids had clean laundry. They just could not find it in their rooms.
9. During my class I printed the syllabus. I then began to correct typos and grade it.
8. I had to dry off after a shower with a hand towel. Twice.
7. I lost the baby swing. In the living room. Thankfully, I was holding the baby.
6. I thought my head would explode if I had to hear "What? We are supposed to be doing school??" one more time.
5. I lost my checking basket which contains my red pencils and pens, stickers, index cards for daily reports, and my favorite pen. It is somewhere on my desk.
4. We had to have noodles for dinner four days in a row because I did not have time to cook or to go shopping.
3. We ran out of pancake mix.
2. I still have maternity clothing in laundry baskets in my room.
1. I have found myself more stressed and distracted than when I was at fire prevention day at the fire hall and forgot that I had a baby. I walked away from the seat to take a phone call. (Several people were there and watched him). When I came back I got a good deal of teasing about leaving my baby at a safe haven. (And I was only gone for not more than two minutes, and was still in sight of the seat, just distracted.)
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Sensory Activities- Surfing
I just found a neat site with loads of fun stuff to do, thanks to Facebook. There was a link to sensory activities, and I am always looking for some good sensory activities for the kids. I found some new ideas, was reminded of some old, and still have not seen our favorite sensory activity of all time. In order to share the awesomeness of that activity, I am going to detail that experience here, but with a word of caution. Many, many people think we are insane, so attempt what we do at your own risk of life, limb, and sanity.
One day, not long after having baby number four, our little David, the kids wanted to go swimming. This was a problem because we live in PA. And it was February. In our last house we had a HUGE bathtub and I would put all the kids, and at times even some cousins, in the tub in swim suits. No huge tub here, sadly. And they would not let up about swimming. Isaac ran to get his suit, and I had an idea. One born of desperation, the haze that comes after a newborn, and the winter blues. I sent the kids to get on swim suits as I scrambled around to get ready.
As they were getting dressed I got beach towels and sunscreen. I found my favorite reggae CD. I got the baby shampoo, and Mr. Dave as we so fondly called our tiny guy. I had the kids cover themselves with sunscreen while I swept the kitchen floor and blasted the music to set the stage. We, well, actually they, were going surfing. I moved everything out of the kitchen and had the kids stand on the towels on the floor.
I squirted a whole bunch of baby shampoo on the floor and climbed up on the counter, perching myself by the sink. I used the sprayer from the sink to squirt the kids and floor. They were covered with water and bubbles and started slipping and sliding all over the place on their "surf boards". I sat on the counter all criss cross applesauce nursing a newborn, hosing my kids every time they stopped being slippy until almost time for Andy to get home.
We made quite a mess. And had so much fun.
I carefully climbed down, got some dry towels to mop up any leftover water and tossed the kids in the shower with their swimsuits still on. As they rinsed off I put David down for a nap and put the towels in the wash.
By the time Andy came home I had a clean kitchen floor, a napping baby, three squeaky clean, happy, snacking kids, and some freshly laundered towels still warm from the dryer. It was an epic win for the day.
We have never done it again, and Isaac does not remember it. David, while there, did not get to participate. Perhaps we will have a repeat of that day, the one the girls call 'the day we knew Mommy had really lost her mind'. My floor has not been cleaned in quite a while...
One day, not long after having baby number four, our little David, the kids wanted to go swimming. This was a problem because we live in PA. And it was February. In our last house we had a HUGE bathtub and I would put all the kids, and at times even some cousins, in the tub in swim suits. No huge tub here, sadly. And they would not let up about swimming. Isaac ran to get his suit, and I had an idea. One born of desperation, the haze that comes after a newborn, and the winter blues. I sent the kids to get on swim suits as I scrambled around to get ready.
As they were getting dressed I got beach towels and sunscreen. I found my favorite reggae CD. I got the baby shampoo, and Mr. Dave as we so fondly called our tiny guy. I had the kids cover themselves with sunscreen while I swept the kitchen floor and blasted the music to set the stage. We, well, actually they, were going surfing. I moved everything out of the kitchen and had the kids stand on the towels on the floor.
I squirted a whole bunch of baby shampoo on the floor and climbed up on the counter, perching myself by the sink. I used the sprayer from the sink to squirt the kids and floor. They were covered with water and bubbles and started slipping and sliding all over the place on their "surf boards". I sat on the counter all criss cross applesauce nursing a newborn, hosing my kids every time they stopped being slippy until almost time for Andy to get home.
We made quite a mess. And had so much fun.
I carefully climbed down, got some dry towels to mop up any leftover water and tossed the kids in the shower with their swimsuits still on. As they rinsed off I put David down for a nap and put the towels in the wash.
By the time Andy came home I had a clean kitchen floor, a napping baby, three squeaky clean, happy, snacking kids, and some freshly laundered towels still warm from the dryer. It was an epic win for the day.
We have never done it again, and Isaac does not remember it. David, while there, did not get to participate. Perhaps we will have a repeat of that day, the one the girls call 'the day we knew Mommy had really lost her mind'. My floor has not been cleaned in quite a while...
Friday, September 14, 2012
When I grow up...
Someone posted on Facebook asking what children want to be when they grow up.
When Angel was little, she wanted to be a mermaid, an artist, and then the president. Now, she wants to be a fashion designer. Or maybe a teacher. But definitely a mother.
Faith usually answers with somethings about animals or creating something. Today she said a robot builder. Last week it was a vet.
Isaac wanted to be a ninja, a chef, a police officer, a super hero, one each day of the week, and take off Fridays for a long weekend. He still wants to be a police officer. Who uses ninja skills.
David wants to be a magic man who dances, sings, does magic, and fights fires. And he wants to drive a red motorcycle. And sometimes play golf.
Me, when I grow up, I want to be, well, I don't really know.
I used to know.
On the first day of preschool, and everyday of my childhood, I wanted to be a teacher.
I also wanted to be in charge. It did not matter what I was in charge of, just as long as I was the decision maker.
I want to homeschool, but I also want my own preschool. I love preschool. I am going to school for education, homeschooling my children, basically teaching all the time.
I am not sure I want the responsibility of being in charge. Of anything. Sometimes I am not sure who decided I could be a grown up, let alone put me in charge of anything. But I still like being bossy. ;)
I also want to be debt free. Yet my students loans alone mean I will have to wait for that. Not to mention Andy's, and our house.
I want to be that older woman that younger women look to for advice. I just am not sure I want to earn that wisdom through trials and experience.
I want to be that married couple that has made 50 years and still holds hands. Since we were married young, that could happen. Only 36 years to go...
I want to be peaceful, some one whose life and circumstances reflect the love of God and the peace one can have in knowing Him.
I suppose I still have a lot of growing up to do...
When Angel was little, she wanted to be a mermaid, an artist, and then the president. Now, she wants to be a fashion designer. Or maybe a teacher. But definitely a mother.
Faith usually answers with somethings about animals or creating something. Today she said a robot builder. Last week it was a vet.
Isaac wanted to be a ninja, a chef, a police officer, a super hero, one each day of the week, and take off Fridays for a long weekend. He still wants to be a police officer. Who uses ninja skills.
David wants to be a magic man who dances, sings, does magic, and fights fires. And he wants to drive a red motorcycle. And sometimes play golf.
Me, when I grow up, I want to be, well, I don't really know.
I used to know.
On the first day of preschool, and everyday of my childhood, I wanted to be a teacher.
I also wanted to be in charge. It did not matter what I was in charge of, just as long as I was the decision maker.
I want to homeschool, but I also want my own preschool. I love preschool. I am going to school for education, homeschooling my children, basically teaching all the time.
I am not sure I want the responsibility of being in charge. Of anything. Sometimes I am not sure who decided I could be a grown up, let alone put me in charge of anything. But I still like being bossy. ;)
I also want to be debt free. Yet my students loans alone mean I will have to wait for that. Not to mention Andy's, and our house.
I want to be that older woman that younger women look to for advice. I just am not sure I want to earn that wisdom through trials and experience.
I want to be that married couple that has made 50 years and still holds hands. Since we were married young, that could happen. Only 36 years to go...
I want to be peaceful, some one whose life and circumstances reflect the love of God and the peace one can have in knowing Him.
I suppose I still have a lot of growing up to do...
Friday, August 24, 2012
Noise Alert
In a household with children one can expect a certain amount of noise. Playing, fighting, laughing, crying, banging, crashing, clomping, squealing... In a household with children with Asperger's there are more noises at times, the constant noises or repeated words and phrases. A new babies bring their own kinds of noises- crying, cooing, the swing rocking, musical toys. All of these noises combined together create the symphony of our home, the beat we live by. And usually that is a great thing. Usually.
For some reason our summer is fizzling out, dying a slow painful death. The kids are bickering, dropping trash everywhere, fighting, not wanting to play outside, and screaming. One, or both, of our toliets overflow everyday. And the screetching by the one, or at times two, preschoolers has reached a new level of loud. This wakes up the baby, who cries. And then is over tired and cannot fall back asleep. Who keeps Mommy awake. All night long. And the preschooler is up bright and early. So Mommy gets no sleep. And has a headache. And is very irritated by the noise, good or bad, but mostly bad in the past two days.
The fun level is crashing quickly, the frustration levels are rising just as fast. And school is supposed to start on Monday for them, Tuesday for me. Usually at this point I am excited, energized, and so are the kids. We have crates full of new supplies, new materials, fun activities, and field trips planned. I am not organized, but that is nothing new. The house is cleanish, and the laundry is caught up. I even have food in the crock pot for supper.
The problem is the noise. Not the household noise, but the life noise that is blocking out my peace of heart and mind. My quiet time spent in reflection, digging into the Bible, and covering our home in prayer. It is the noise that fills my head, not the noise filling my house. The noise that is blocking my attitude of praise and thanksgiving, keeping me off balance and unfocused. My heart attitude sets the tone for my whole family. If I am frustrated, they are fighting. If I am joyful, we have laughter. I know this is a fact. I can see it in our lives.
As we begin a new school year, a new journey, with so many joys, I have to set aside the past school year with its problems and trials, all the frustration. I have to set aside myself, my lack of motivation, and my tiredness. I need instead to create a new attitude in my home, one of peace and joy, love and laughter.
Having so many things going on, that is difficult. New baby, new school year, new classes for me, those are all overwhelming when tacked alone, let alone all at once. So as we begin this new part of our journey, we will have a new commitment. A commitment of loving each other, of loving God, and of service to Him. And that new journey does not have to wait until we crack open our math book for the first time, it starts now. With a family prayer, a new Scripture to memorize, and planning our day to include quiet time and time to play and grow together. Please join me in praying for our family, our school year, and that I get some extra rest this weekend.
For some reason our summer is fizzling out, dying a slow painful death. The kids are bickering, dropping trash everywhere, fighting, not wanting to play outside, and screaming. One, or both, of our toliets overflow everyday. And the screetching by the one, or at times two, preschoolers has reached a new level of loud. This wakes up the baby, who cries. And then is over tired and cannot fall back asleep. Who keeps Mommy awake. All night long. And the preschooler is up bright and early. So Mommy gets no sleep. And has a headache. And is very irritated by the noise, good or bad, but mostly bad in the past two days.
The fun level is crashing quickly, the frustration levels are rising just as fast. And school is supposed to start on Monday for them, Tuesday for me. Usually at this point I am excited, energized, and so are the kids. We have crates full of new supplies, new materials, fun activities, and field trips planned. I am not organized, but that is nothing new. The house is cleanish, and the laundry is caught up. I even have food in the crock pot for supper.
The problem is the noise. Not the household noise, but the life noise that is blocking out my peace of heart and mind. My quiet time spent in reflection, digging into the Bible, and covering our home in prayer. It is the noise that fills my head, not the noise filling my house. The noise that is blocking my attitude of praise and thanksgiving, keeping me off balance and unfocused. My heart attitude sets the tone for my whole family. If I am frustrated, they are fighting. If I am joyful, we have laughter. I know this is a fact. I can see it in our lives.
As we begin a new school year, a new journey, with so many joys, I have to set aside the past school year with its problems and trials, all the frustration. I have to set aside myself, my lack of motivation, and my tiredness. I need instead to create a new attitude in my home, one of peace and joy, love and laughter.
Having so many things going on, that is difficult. New baby, new school year, new classes for me, those are all overwhelming when tacked alone, let alone all at once. So as we begin this new part of our journey, we will have a new commitment. A commitment of loving each other, of loving God, and of service to Him. And that new journey does not have to wait until we crack open our math book for the first time, it starts now. With a family prayer, a new Scripture to memorize, and planning our day to include quiet time and time to play and grow together. Please join me in praying for our family, our school year, and that I get some extra rest this weekend.
Friday, August 3, 2012
The Evolution of Bed Rest
I have been on bed rest since sometime in the middle of July. This is pretty much how it has been going...
Week One:
I am so glad to not be in the hospital anymore! That was horrible. I am much more comfortable here. I am so glad to know that our little one is not going to have to come too early, even if that means I am to be on bed rest for now. Let's pray we make it to our due date so he is big enough and developed enough. Angel is doing a great job cooking and cleaning.
Week Two:
I am happy that Micah is still growing, we got to have an ultrasound and he is head down and super cute! I am not liking this medicine, it is making me shake so much that I can not even walk to the bathroom. The trips to the doctor are getting to be a bit much, but it is all for the best. Angel has been making the best pancakes.
Week Three:
Off that medicine, no longer feel like death! Maybe I can attend VBS even if I can't direct it. I am getting so much school work done, and stuff with the kids for school. The house is a wreck and we have no clean clothes. We have been eating sandwiches and cereal until Andy gets home. But at least Micah is doing fine and still growing.
Week Four:
I am getting pretty tired of this new medicine. I am now not shaking, it is a constant headache that never lets up. We have been to the hospital for tests so much that I am recognized by most of the staff. the kids have been watching a lot of TV, so at least they are entertained. I am pretty sure the boys have not had a bath in about a week, and there is now no clean clothing. And at least one day this week they ate popcorn for lunch, but Angel did make pancakes for breakfast. We are out of ice cream. Again. At least they like fruit. Will this little one ever get here??
Week Five:
(This has not happened yet, but we are starting week five soon. I am pretty sure this is how it is going to go down...)
I can not take one more episode of a Disney show for the fifteenth time. Even Doctor Who has become irritating. I know, right? We have been existing on pop tarts and popcorn. The boys still have not had a bath. We have no clean clothing, as you can see by the multitude of pictures of David in his undies. The same undies. I can not find the living room floor. There are no clean towels for any of us to shower. Not eating real food cuts down on the amount of dirty dishes, and letting them go naked cuts down on the dirty laundry. Does anyone have any ice cream? Or chocolate? Or both? If they don't do something so I have this baby soon, I am going to die.
Week One:
I am so glad to not be in the hospital anymore! That was horrible. I am much more comfortable here. I am so glad to know that our little one is not going to have to come too early, even if that means I am to be on bed rest for now. Let's pray we make it to our due date so he is big enough and developed enough. Angel is doing a great job cooking and cleaning.
Week Two:
I am happy that Micah is still growing, we got to have an ultrasound and he is head down and super cute! I am not liking this medicine, it is making me shake so much that I can not even walk to the bathroom. The trips to the doctor are getting to be a bit much, but it is all for the best. Angel has been making the best pancakes.
Week Three:
Off that medicine, no longer feel like death! Maybe I can attend VBS even if I can't direct it. I am getting so much school work done, and stuff with the kids for school. The house is a wreck and we have no clean clothes. We have been eating sandwiches and cereal until Andy gets home. But at least Micah is doing fine and still growing.
Week Four:
I am getting pretty tired of this new medicine. I am now not shaking, it is a constant headache that never lets up. We have been to the hospital for tests so much that I am recognized by most of the staff. the kids have been watching a lot of TV, so at least they are entertained. I am pretty sure the boys have not had a bath in about a week, and there is now no clean clothing. And at least one day this week they ate popcorn for lunch, but Angel did make pancakes for breakfast. We are out of ice cream. Again. At least they like fruit. Will this little one ever get here??
Week Five:
(This has not happened yet, but we are starting week five soon. I am pretty sure this is how it is going to go down...)
I can not take one more episode of a Disney show for the fifteenth time. Even Doctor Who has become irritating. I know, right? We have been existing on pop tarts and popcorn. The boys still have not had a bath. We have no clean clothing, as you can see by the multitude of pictures of David in his undies. The same undies. I can not find the living room floor. There are no clean towels for any of us to shower. Not eating real food cuts down on the amount of dirty dishes, and letting them go naked cuts down on the dirty laundry. Does anyone have any ice cream? Or chocolate? Or both? If they don't do something so I have this baby soon, I am going to die.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
Hugs, not Drugs!
Most of my past weekend was a blur. Not the "I-just-had-so-much-fun" kind, but the kind that happens after a hazy, sick in bed weekend of pain. As the fog is slowly lifting, and as I talk to my family, I realize not only how lucky I am, and how blessed that both Micah and I are doing fine, but I also realize why I am a no meds person.
I never take medicine. I do not like that fuzzy head feeling, the common side effects, or the fact that I am not a normal side effects kind of person. I am the kind of person that has rare, startling, or bizarre side effects of medicine. I use more natural remedies because of this. Upset tummy? Fresh mint tea. Headache? Peppermint essential oil. Toothache? Clove oil. I use a Neti Pot for my sinuses, and have been so stuffy that I have tried inhaling crushed red pepper. Once.
For this pregnancy I have had to take my vitamins, which I am OK with. Plus calcium and baby aspirin to help control blood pressure. And B6 for my morning sickness. And then medicine for my thyroid. I seriously could not keep it all straight! After my hospital adventure last week I added high blood pressure medicine. Enter the bizarre side effects. The not your average side effects. Dizziness, weakness, fatigue, leg cramps, etc. Then began the chest pain and my second, and then third adventure to the ER. In the same weekend. In order to determine if my chest pain was caused by the pulled muscle, instead of having a CT scan while pregnant, I was given a pain pill. If my muscle relaxed, I would have no pain and be able to catch my breath.
About 30 minutes after taking the pill I was breathing normally. My dad, relieved that I was going to be fine and knowing I was going to be released soon, left the hospital. What transpired over the next couple of hours are only hazy memories and the laughing reflections of my husband. Not long after my dad left the hospital I began crying because he is such a nice man. When I was released, I insisted that I needed a hamburger. Made at Sheetz. By my brother Josh. Who, coincidentally does make delicious hamburgers, but not at Sheetz, seeing as how he does not in fact work there. I was still set on Sheetz, so I insisted that we stop, at which point I could not order my food because the touch screen was confusing me, got a quesadilla, and was confused as to why they were not charging for my cup of ice. Which made me cry a little bit. I did not know how to pay no money.
On the way home I ate and was sad because my food was not as good as Josh makes. I wanted Tony to meet me at the restaurant he works at, now close to midnight, to make me a hamburger. Then I decided to just stop at Wal Mart to get Josh a quesadilla maker. And, because I can not get Josh such a lovely present without getting one for Tony too, I was planning on finding him a tiny Eskimo. A tiny Eskimo that makes ice cream. Complete with the fur coat. I could picture it in my mind.
Needless to say, Andy was driving. We did not stop at Wal Mart. I fell asleep on the way home. I have no recollection of getting from the van to my bed. I do have a bruise from teh adventure, on my ankle. I woke up well rested, even with the return of the chest pain, and a lingering feeling that I needed to find an Eskimo. Or at the very least have some ice cream.
I never take medicine. I do not like that fuzzy head feeling, the common side effects, or the fact that I am not a normal side effects kind of person. I am the kind of person that has rare, startling, or bizarre side effects of medicine. I use more natural remedies because of this. Upset tummy? Fresh mint tea. Headache? Peppermint essential oil. Toothache? Clove oil. I use a Neti Pot for my sinuses, and have been so stuffy that I have tried inhaling crushed red pepper. Once.
For this pregnancy I have had to take my vitamins, which I am OK with. Plus calcium and baby aspirin to help control blood pressure. And B6 for my morning sickness. And then medicine for my thyroid. I seriously could not keep it all straight! After my hospital adventure last week I added high blood pressure medicine. Enter the bizarre side effects. The not your average side effects. Dizziness, weakness, fatigue, leg cramps, etc. Then began the chest pain and my second, and then third adventure to the ER. In the same weekend. In order to determine if my chest pain was caused by the pulled muscle, instead of having a CT scan while pregnant, I was given a pain pill. If my muscle relaxed, I would have no pain and be able to catch my breath.
About 30 minutes after taking the pill I was breathing normally. My dad, relieved that I was going to be fine and knowing I was going to be released soon, left the hospital. What transpired over the next couple of hours are only hazy memories and the laughing reflections of my husband. Not long after my dad left the hospital I began crying because he is such a nice man. When I was released, I insisted that I needed a hamburger. Made at Sheetz. By my brother Josh. Who, coincidentally does make delicious hamburgers, but not at Sheetz, seeing as how he does not in fact work there. I was still set on Sheetz, so I insisted that we stop, at which point I could not order my food because the touch screen was confusing me, got a quesadilla, and was confused as to why they were not charging for my cup of ice. Which made me cry a little bit. I did not know how to pay no money.
On the way home I ate and was sad because my food was not as good as Josh makes. I wanted Tony to meet me at the restaurant he works at, now close to midnight, to make me a hamburger. Then I decided to just stop at Wal Mart to get Josh a quesadilla maker. And, because I can not get Josh such a lovely present without getting one for Tony too, I was planning on finding him a tiny Eskimo. A tiny Eskimo that makes ice cream. Complete with the fur coat. I could picture it in my mind.
Needless to say, Andy was driving. We did not stop at Wal Mart. I fell asleep on the way home. I have no recollection of getting from the van to my bed. I do have a bruise from teh adventure, on my ankle. I woke up well rested, even with the return of the chest pain, and a lingering feeling that I needed to find an Eskimo. Or at the very least have some ice cream.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
One Thursday Morning
There is not really any pregnancy that has no problems, no uncomfortable days. I know at the beginning of this pregnancy I was super sick. That happens. I had to take the super long glucose test, which turned out exceptional. And there was that day I had heat exhaustion at camp. Pregnant in a heat wave, it happens. So I consider that a relatively normal pregnancy. I had been feeling great, Micah is moving and squirming around, growing like he is supposed to be doing. Nesting set in and I was on a cleaning streak.
On Thursday morning I woke up not feeling quite right. I figured I would switch from mad cleaning to a full day of doing my school work, and maybe treat the kids to a walk for some candy if they let me work in peace. It was not uncomfortably hot, so when I barely made it to the bathroom with super amounts of swelling I was surprised. By the time I got to the kitchen I could not make a fist because my hands were so swollen, and my toes were not. Odd, but so is pregnancy.
I did school for a while, still not feeling well. I decided to lay down on my left side as so commonly told to do in pregnancy. When my mom stopped over my whole face was swollen. I took the kids to Giant Eagle for their snack, and checked my blood pressure. I was high,but the machine was not working correctly so I was not sure. By the time Andy came home my eyes were almost swollen shut.
We headed to our chiropractor appointment, figuring I would check my blood pressure at Walmart and sit on the bench while Andy got groceries for supper. My first reading was cause for concern, and the readings kept creeping up over the time I spent waiting and checking. When it read 170/99 I knew I had to be seen. We stopped to grab food at the closest drive through. By the time we hit Johnstown I was pretty out of it. My head was hurting very bad, I could see thumping spots, and was super sick to my stomach. I was not entirely convinced I would be ok, but we had the kids with us so I did not say too much.
Andy had to drop me off at the ER and go park. I was taken straight up to Labor and Delivery. Andy sat in the waiting room with the kids, keeping in touch by text, until I saw the doctor. I was feeling worse by the minute. The doctor came in, looked at me, and called for a nurse to start the IV. I told Andy, who came in to get a list of what I would need for short stay. As soon as he left to drop of the kids and grab my stuff it got interesting.
The IV nurse came in to do initial blood work and the second the needle hit my arm I been convulsing. She hit an alarm, and nurses came running. The doctor came in. I heard them talking, got a shot, and then was told I had taken a seizure because my blood pressure spiked to 190/110. I was put on a magnesium drip, which made me hot, itchy, and sick. Several times I had to get shots for vomiting, they did blood work every few hours.
After about an hour, the doctor ordered shots to help boost the baby's lungs. If I was not doing better soon they wanted to induce at 33 weeks. I began to cry. Throughout the night my blood pressure was taken every 15 minutes, spiking quite high and then dropping dangerously low. At one point I was told it dropped as low as 88/50, at which point I had another seizure. Then more meds.
I was taken off the magnesium drip after 12 hours. It felt like 12 days. They were running constant blood work, and urinalysis for 24 hours. After coming off the IV I could not walk. I could not stand without shaking. For the first time in my life I was on my knees sobbing for help and had to hit the alarm to call for the nurse.
After a long 24 hours, the tests came back borderline. I was not diagnosed with pre-eclampsia, but with sudden onset pregnancy induced high blood pressure. I was sent home feeling only slightly better than when I arrived. I cried the whole way home. I was terrified to leave the nurses and the consoling fact that if something happened they knew right away. It is about a 45 minute drive, an eternity in an emergency. And yet I so badly wanted to hold my kids. By the time I got to my mothers to pick them up I could hardly move. A splitting headache, swelling beginning, and sick to my stomach. I was ready to go right back to the ER when I could not walk myself to the van. Andy and my Dad had to get me there, after I had to ask for help for the second time that day.
I crawled up to my room. Bed rest until Monday. We have an ultrasound to check the little man's size, and my check up to know what is going on with my blood pressure. It needs to be regulated through my medicine or they will have no choice but to induce early. If today is any indicator, so far the medicine is not working. I can not stand up at all without my blood pressure spiking high enough to effect my ability to walk. Trips to the bathroom are quite an ordeal. There are side effects to both the magnesium and the new medicine I have to take, so hopefully in a few days this will even out.
Please be in prayer for us. As much as I want to meet my little guy, I need him to be safe more. He needs more time, and I need to be okay enough to give it to him. I also need to keep trucking on the cleaning up, my school work, and the fun of preparing for meeting Mr. Micah.
On Thursday morning I woke up not feeling quite right. I figured I would switch from mad cleaning to a full day of doing my school work, and maybe treat the kids to a walk for some candy if they let me work in peace. It was not uncomfortably hot, so when I barely made it to the bathroom with super amounts of swelling I was surprised. By the time I got to the kitchen I could not make a fist because my hands were so swollen, and my toes were not. Odd, but so is pregnancy.
I did school for a while, still not feeling well. I decided to lay down on my left side as so commonly told to do in pregnancy. When my mom stopped over my whole face was swollen. I took the kids to Giant Eagle for their snack, and checked my blood pressure. I was high,but the machine was not working correctly so I was not sure. By the time Andy came home my eyes were almost swollen shut.
We headed to our chiropractor appointment, figuring I would check my blood pressure at Walmart and sit on the bench while Andy got groceries for supper. My first reading was cause for concern, and the readings kept creeping up over the time I spent waiting and checking. When it read 170/99 I knew I had to be seen. We stopped to grab food at the closest drive through. By the time we hit Johnstown I was pretty out of it. My head was hurting very bad, I could see thumping spots, and was super sick to my stomach. I was not entirely convinced I would be ok, but we had the kids with us so I did not say too much.
Andy had to drop me off at the ER and go park. I was taken straight up to Labor and Delivery. Andy sat in the waiting room with the kids, keeping in touch by text, until I saw the doctor. I was feeling worse by the minute. The doctor came in, looked at me, and called for a nurse to start the IV. I told Andy, who came in to get a list of what I would need for short stay. As soon as he left to drop of the kids and grab my stuff it got interesting.
The IV nurse came in to do initial blood work and the second the needle hit my arm I been convulsing. She hit an alarm, and nurses came running. The doctor came in. I heard them talking, got a shot, and then was told I had taken a seizure because my blood pressure spiked to 190/110. I was put on a magnesium drip, which made me hot, itchy, and sick. Several times I had to get shots for vomiting, they did blood work every few hours.
After about an hour, the doctor ordered shots to help boost the baby's lungs. If I was not doing better soon they wanted to induce at 33 weeks. I began to cry. Throughout the night my blood pressure was taken every 15 minutes, spiking quite high and then dropping dangerously low. At one point I was told it dropped as low as 88/50, at which point I had another seizure. Then more meds.
I was taken off the magnesium drip after 12 hours. It felt like 12 days. They were running constant blood work, and urinalysis for 24 hours. After coming off the IV I could not walk. I could not stand without shaking. For the first time in my life I was on my knees sobbing for help and had to hit the alarm to call for the nurse.
After a long 24 hours, the tests came back borderline. I was not diagnosed with pre-eclampsia, but with sudden onset pregnancy induced high blood pressure. I was sent home feeling only slightly better than when I arrived. I cried the whole way home. I was terrified to leave the nurses and the consoling fact that if something happened they knew right away. It is about a 45 minute drive, an eternity in an emergency. And yet I so badly wanted to hold my kids. By the time I got to my mothers to pick them up I could hardly move. A splitting headache, swelling beginning, and sick to my stomach. I was ready to go right back to the ER when I could not walk myself to the van. Andy and my Dad had to get me there, after I had to ask for help for the second time that day.
I crawled up to my room. Bed rest until Monday. We have an ultrasound to check the little man's size, and my check up to know what is going on with my blood pressure. It needs to be regulated through my medicine or they will have no choice but to induce early. If today is any indicator, so far the medicine is not working. I can not stand up at all without my blood pressure spiking high enough to effect my ability to walk. Trips to the bathroom are quite an ordeal. There are side effects to both the magnesium and the new medicine I have to take, so hopefully in a few days this will even out.
Please be in prayer for us. As much as I want to meet my little guy, I need him to be safe more. He needs more time, and I need to be okay enough to give it to him. I also need to keep trucking on the cleaning up, my school work, and the fun of preparing for meeting Mr. Micah.
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