Every mom knows that melting feeling you get in your heart when you look into your child's bright eyes and they grin from ear to ear, beaming with happiness and love. Luckily, not every mother knows the pain - of feeling the melting heart, bending forward for a kiss and getting smacked right in the face. She, or he in my case, is the "passionate child". Passionate children have the highest of highs. They are easily pleased, smile often and charm strangers at the grocery store. Passionate children also have meltdowns at the drop of a hat, express themselves loudly and always seem to find mischief.
The following tidbits are true accounts of my fourth born child:
-one night while bathing he dumped an entire bottle of son #1's Axe Body Wash into the tub, creating a very scented and slippery tubby; while I was sopping up bubbles he ran to his room in a towel and peed on the carpeted floor
-I came home from work one day and asked our child care provider if she was getting a sore on her lip. "No" she replied, "I got head butted today" - while hugging my son
-on a warm summer night I ran across the hall to get prescription diaper cream and returned moments later to find him covered from head to toe on one side of his body in Desitin (not easily washed off)
-playing in big brother's room resulted in first a highlighter scribbled all over the wall; then, when climbing the bunk ladder was mastered a red permanent marker on the crisp white ceiling
-he has been known on numerous occasions to silently (which does not even seem possible) disappear out the front door to be found in places like the front seat of my van, playing in the garage, riding on the lawn tractor
-while cleaning up the front yard my husband discovered rocks sticking out of the oil pipe leading to our furnace
-while helping me clean his sisters bedroom he threw away some trash then dumped the bathroom trash can over and floated some toys in the toilet; while I cleaned this up he launched a toy off the top of the balcony and laughed as it smashed on the landing below
This is just a handful of the battles with my "beast", as I lovingly call him, and I'm sure if you have a passionate child you can relate. If you don't have a passionate child you may want to watch the movie Dennis the Menace and decide if you're ready to go on this roller coaster ride of parenting the passionate child.
"believe in your dreams for all dreams can come true"
-dr. mom of 4
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Thursday, July 9, 2009
Pregnancy and the best day/worst day of my life
When looking at my first pregnancy, to say that I was on an emotional roller coaster is an understatement. There really is no appropriate cliche to describe my first experience with pregnancy.
Type A personality that I am, two days before starting medical school I found myself starting the most unplanned experience ever. I wasn't ignorant as to how to avoid pregnancy however an ovarian cyst and thus change of birth control pills left me more vulnerable than I expected. We had planned to have a family but had decided to see how "challenging" medical school was and get advice from others in medical school as to the "right time". I believe everything happens for a reason and this is a perfect example. Had I not gotten pregnant before medical school and the decision been left up to me to make after starting medical school I am certain that the grueling schedule would have overwhelmed me into "waiting".
I decided that very first weekend to keep my condition a secret for awhile. I truly wasn't sure how it would be received and whether or not the school would even allow me to continue classes. That plan lasted less than an hour. At our welcome breakfast we went around the table introducing ourselves and I couldn't help but reveal how excited I was to be pregnant. The immediate support I received was incredible. I was introduced right away to two other women both in the class ahead of me who had had babies the previous year. My early jitters were quickly eased as I continued to embrace the joy of expecting our first child.
Like anyone going through their first pregnancy I suffered from some nausea and was very tired. These symptoms were multiplied however by staying up late studying and gross anatomy lab. There are mental challenges as well as odor challenges to dissecting cadavers for anyone, but add in first trimester morning sickness and breathing through a respirator for hours on end and it's the formula for disaster. Formaldehyde fumes have not been proven to be harmful to a fetus but studies indicate there may be a risk with prolonged exposure thus the decision was made by myself and my instructor to wear a breathing apparatus to protect the baby.
As first trimester came to an end, my nausea began to subside and the anatomy lab course ended. Fatigue however never let up. Endless hours of studying and the natural demands of pregnancy on my body continued to drain me of any energy I thought I would regain in the second trimester. Although I had bonded with two moms from the class ahead of me, I remained the only medical student in my class to be expecting. Sometimes this had additional social challenges. While my peers had post-test parties and "socialized", I was home reading baby name books. The majority of my classmates were single and the dating scene from college, continued at a slightly higher maturity level. I would be lying to say I didn't have a few days of envy but for the most part I was very content to start my family. I wondered often how I would balance the demands of a newborn, classes, rotations, boards and motherhood. My mom was a stay-at-home mom. I had no idea how I was going to balance having a career and being there for my kids when they needed me. Luckily I didn't put a lot of thought into it because I probably would have backed out if I could. There are no quick or easy answers and it would take trial and error, hard work, tears and sleepless nights to get me through.
In mid January, at 24 weeks into my pregnancy I found myself having another large hurdle. I was riding in the back seat of my parents' car, on our way to a family party when we were hit by an oncoming pick-up truck. It was a snowy winter night and the young driver had lost control of his vehicle crossing over into our lane. I remember seeing the headlights coming at us and my mom yelling from beside me, to my dad (the driver) that the truck was going to hit us. The next few minutes replay in my mind in slow-motion. There was smoke and crying, strangers helping us out of the vehicle. My dad had briefly lost consciousness but overall appeared okay. Aside from some bumps and bruises everyone seemed to have made it through the accident unharmed. Before the smoke had cleared my mom and husband were asking me if the baby was okay. "Yes, I think so" "I don't know, my stomach's tight. Is that okay?" Then the ambulance arrived and I was the first to go. In the ambulance the paramedic asked if my water had broken or if I was having any contractions. I had no idea. Fear and shock made it difficult to know what I was feeling and inexperience with pregnancy made it more complicated. After an over night in the hospital and check up the following day with my obstetrician we were both cleared. I had an amazing bruise across my abdomen corresponding to the seat belt. A pregnant baby belly is never supposed to have a black and blue mark traveling across it. A little banged up but relieved that the baby was okay, I continued on with my studies at full pace.
A little less than four weeks later I found myself having more back pain than usual. I remember getting up out of my seat during biochemistry to stretch and then pacing because I couldn't get comfortable. Luckily one of the girls from the class ahead of me saw me and asked if I was okay. I told her I was fine, just more back pain than usual. She laughed and said if she didn't know better she would think I was in labor because of how I was acting, but since I was only 28 weeks I couldn't be. Then we both got to thinking and worrying. I called my doctor and headed in for him to check me. He greeted me and was very reassuring saying that everything had been perfect so far and that he was sure it would continue that way. As he checked my cervix, the look on his face changed from reassurance into one of concern. I was 2-3cm dilated and 80% effaced. I was in labor. That weekend was the first of many days I would spend in the hospital over the next six weeks.
I was given intravenous medicine to stop the labor, steroids to help the baby's lungs mature and had an ultrasound to check the baby's "viability". And so began our nightmare. Over the next six weeks I lied on my left side, the preferred position for blood flow to the baby as much as possible and coordinated going to the bathroom so that I wasn't "out of bed too much" which would stimulate contractions but didn't allow my bladder to be full because that too would stimulate contractions. I took various pills to stop the contractions, got shots of steroids in my bottom every other day and made many trips back to the hospital for IV tune-ups. On complete bed rest I wasn't able to go to classes but tried to stay caught up via email and transcribed notes. One of my professors even sent my exam to me certified mail for me to complete at home. I wasn't able to participate in labs and thus started to fall behind, just a bit.
After six long weeks of bed rest and hospital visits, studying and falling behind, I was overwhelmed. At 3cm and with the baby dropped down I had tremendous back pain and pelvic pressure. At my 34 week visit I begged the doctor to let me stop the medication and have the baby. He allowed me to stop the medication but said we couldn't encourage labor and that I should remain on bed rest. Feeling a small victory I went home and relaxed a bit, knowing that the end was one step closer. The very next day, my water broke. I was so excited to finally meet this baby growing inside me and had tremendous relief to be through with this battle of pre-term labor. Looking back I sometimes wonder if I had stayed on the medication could I have spared us all the pain of the following week.
Contractions started by the time we arrived at the hospital and things progressed smoothly for the next three and a half hours. I pushed for eighteen minutes and was rewarded with a beautiful baby boy. They showed him to me as they whisked him away to the NICU. I wanted my baby. I worried that he wasn't okay but was reassured that it was just a formality due to his pre-term age. The nurses continued to give me reports that he was doing well BUT I wanted my baby. Finally, three hours later I was wheeled to the NICU to see my baby for the first time.
When you have a baby, your supposed to hold it close to your skin, smell the newborn sweetness and began the amazing bond of motherhood. I sat in a chair while tears rolled down my cheeks staring at my baby who laid there helpless with wires attached to his chest, an IV in his hand and other monitors on his body. I wanted my baby.
Our journey through NICU is another whole chapter. We made it through. Seven long days later I held onto my baby and walked out the hospital door. When we got home, I don't think I put him down for days. A mother needs her baby. That was the first time I ever thought, "do I really want to be a doctor?"
"believe in your dreams for all dreams can come true"
-dr. mom of 4
Type A personality that I am, two days before starting medical school I found myself starting the most unplanned experience ever. I wasn't ignorant as to how to avoid pregnancy however an ovarian cyst and thus change of birth control pills left me more vulnerable than I expected. We had planned to have a family but had decided to see how "challenging" medical school was and get advice from others in medical school as to the "right time". I believe everything happens for a reason and this is a perfect example. Had I not gotten pregnant before medical school and the decision been left up to me to make after starting medical school I am certain that the grueling schedule would have overwhelmed me into "waiting".
I decided that very first weekend to keep my condition a secret for awhile. I truly wasn't sure how it would be received and whether or not the school would even allow me to continue classes. That plan lasted less than an hour. At our welcome breakfast we went around the table introducing ourselves and I couldn't help but reveal how excited I was to be pregnant. The immediate support I received was incredible. I was introduced right away to two other women both in the class ahead of me who had had babies the previous year. My early jitters were quickly eased as I continued to embrace the joy of expecting our first child.
Like anyone going through their first pregnancy I suffered from some nausea and was very tired. These symptoms were multiplied however by staying up late studying and gross anatomy lab. There are mental challenges as well as odor challenges to dissecting cadavers for anyone, but add in first trimester morning sickness and breathing through a respirator for hours on end and it's the formula for disaster. Formaldehyde fumes have not been proven to be harmful to a fetus but studies indicate there may be a risk with prolonged exposure thus the decision was made by myself and my instructor to wear a breathing apparatus to protect the baby.
As first trimester came to an end, my nausea began to subside and the anatomy lab course ended. Fatigue however never let up. Endless hours of studying and the natural demands of pregnancy on my body continued to drain me of any energy I thought I would regain in the second trimester. Although I had bonded with two moms from the class ahead of me, I remained the only medical student in my class to be expecting. Sometimes this had additional social challenges. While my peers had post-test parties and "socialized", I was home reading baby name books. The majority of my classmates were single and the dating scene from college, continued at a slightly higher maturity level. I would be lying to say I didn't have a few days of envy but for the most part I was very content to start my family. I wondered often how I would balance the demands of a newborn, classes, rotations, boards and motherhood. My mom was a stay-at-home mom. I had no idea how I was going to balance having a career and being there for my kids when they needed me. Luckily I didn't put a lot of thought into it because I probably would have backed out if I could. There are no quick or easy answers and it would take trial and error, hard work, tears and sleepless nights to get me through.
In mid January, at 24 weeks into my pregnancy I found myself having another large hurdle. I was riding in the back seat of my parents' car, on our way to a family party when we were hit by an oncoming pick-up truck. It was a snowy winter night and the young driver had lost control of his vehicle crossing over into our lane. I remember seeing the headlights coming at us and my mom yelling from beside me, to my dad (the driver) that the truck was going to hit us. The next few minutes replay in my mind in slow-motion. There was smoke and crying, strangers helping us out of the vehicle. My dad had briefly lost consciousness but overall appeared okay. Aside from some bumps and bruises everyone seemed to have made it through the accident unharmed. Before the smoke had cleared my mom and husband were asking me if the baby was okay. "Yes, I think so" "I don't know, my stomach's tight. Is that okay?" Then the ambulance arrived and I was the first to go. In the ambulance the paramedic asked if my water had broken or if I was having any contractions. I had no idea. Fear and shock made it difficult to know what I was feeling and inexperience with pregnancy made it more complicated. After an over night in the hospital and check up the following day with my obstetrician we were both cleared. I had an amazing bruise across my abdomen corresponding to the seat belt. A pregnant baby belly is never supposed to have a black and blue mark traveling across it. A little banged up but relieved that the baby was okay, I continued on with my studies at full pace.
A little less than four weeks later I found myself having more back pain than usual. I remember getting up out of my seat during biochemistry to stretch and then pacing because I couldn't get comfortable. Luckily one of the girls from the class ahead of me saw me and asked if I was okay. I told her I was fine, just more back pain than usual. She laughed and said if she didn't know better she would think I was in labor because of how I was acting, but since I was only 28 weeks I couldn't be. Then we both got to thinking and worrying. I called my doctor and headed in for him to check me. He greeted me and was very reassuring saying that everything had been perfect so far and that he was sure it would continue that way. As he checked my cervix, the look on his face changed from reassurance into one of concern. I was 2-3cm dilated and 80% effaced. I was in labor. That weekend was the first of many days I would spend in the hospital over the next six weeks.
I was given intravenous medicine to stop the labor, steroids to help the baby's lungs mature and had an ultrasound to check the baby's "viability". And so began our nightmare. Over the next six weeks I lied on my left side, the preferred position for blood flow to the baby as much as possible and coordinated going to the bathroom so that I wasn't "out of bed too much" which would stimulate contractions but didn't allow my bladder to be full because that too would stimulate contractions. I took various pills to stop the contractions, got shots of steroids in my bottom every other day and made many trips back to the hospital for IV tune-ups. On complete bed rest I wasn't able to go to classes but tried to stay caught up via email and transcribed notes. One of my professors even sent my exam to me certified mail for me to complete at home. I wasn't able to participate in labs and thus started to fall behind, just a bit.
After six long weeks of bed rest and hospital visits, studying and falling behind, I was overwhelmed. At 3cm and with the baby dropped down I had tremendous back pain and pelvic pressure. At my 34 week visit I begged the doctor to let me stop the medication and have the baby. He allowed me to stop the medication but said we couldn't encourage labor and that I should remain on bed rest. Feeling a small victory I went home and relaxed a bit, knowing that the end was one step closer. The very next day, my water broke. I was so excited to finally meet this baby growing inside me and had tremendous relief to be through with this battle of pre-term labor. Looking back I sometimes wonder if I had stayed on the medication could I have spared us all the pain of the following week.
Contractions started by the time we arrived at the hospital and things progressed smoothly for the next three and a half hours. I pushed for eighteen minutes and was rewarded with a beautiful baby boy. They showed him to me as they whisked him away to the NICU. I wanted my baby. I worried that he wasn't okay but was reassured that it was just a formality due to his pre-term age. The nurses continued to give me reports that he was doing well BUT I wanted my baby. Finally, three hours later I was wheeled to the NICU to see my baby for the first time.
When you have a baby, your supposed to hold it close to your skin, smell the newborn sweetness and began the amazing bond of motherhood. I sat in a chair while tears rolled down my cheeks staring at my baby who laid there helpless with wires attached to his chest, an IV in his hand and other monitors on his body. I wanted my baby.
Our journey through NICU is another whole chapter. We made it through. Seven long days later I held onto my baby and walked out the hospital door. When we got home, I don't think I put him down for days. A mother needs her baby. That was the first time I ever thought, "do I really want to be a doctor?"
"believe in your dreams for all dreams can come true"
-dr. mom of 4
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