Do I really mean that? Absolutely not. But really, sometimes being a parent is a little challenging. A little heartbreaking. A little bit too much to handle.
Since Friday’s post, things have been a little cray cray over here.
Another one for the Parent Club chronicles, if you will.
If you follow me on Instagram or Twitter, you probably already know a little about what’s been going on, but if you don’t then here it is: Olivia was in the hospital last Friday night, and we finally got discharged on Monday afternoon.
I’m gonna start this off by saying that this past weekend was one of the worst weekends we’ve experienced so far as parents.
So like I said on Friday, Tuesday night, Olivia threw up all over our kitchen. That’s when it started.
Wednesday, she had really bad diarrhea (tmi, sorry!), but not throwing up.
Thursday she threw up and we were just so worried that we took her to the doctor first thing. They told us that they thought she had a stomach virus, to take her off of milk for a little while, and that she’d be fine in a few days. A few hours later, she couldn’t keep anything down. I couldn’t take it, so I called the doctor again. They still said the same thing, stick to the BRAT (bananas rice applesauce toast) diet, no milk, and lots of rest.
Because Olivia is such a light sleeper, we moved her mattress into our room that night. We wanted to be able to keep an eye on her (she broke her baby monitor a few weeks ago), but not disturb her. We put a glass of water by her bed, and she drank it through the night.
Friday morning, she woke up so weak. So lethargic. So cuddly. She laid on the couch in our room while I did a few things, and proceeded to throw up water all over our floor.
I spent the morning trying to get her to eat something, anything. And she wouldn’t. Finally, I made her chicken noodle soup, and she ate the broth. I thought that we were maybe on the mend because she held it down so nicely, but by the third hour, she threw all of it up and I called the doctor again.
She said that if Olivia threw up again, I should take her into the ER. So we sat on the couch with a limp, lethargic baby and about an hour later, I looked at Dominic as she laid in my arms and said, “Are you thinking what I’m thinking?” and he said, “Yes, I think we should take her in now.”
Rule of parenting number one: ALWAYS trust your instincts.
We decided to take Olivia to the ER even though she didn’t throw up. We knew that it was going to happen again, We knew that her weakness was not a good sign, and I knew that the fact that I only changed one diaper that day was the worst of them all. We packed a bag, drove to the hospital, and sat in the waiting room for an hour. Once we finally got into an ER room, we told the doctor what had been going on, and he told us that Olivia was dehydrated and they wanted to run some tests.
Run some tests meaning blood work, a cath, and an IV to get fluids into her body.
I cried as hard as she did.
It was honestly one of the worst things that happened this past weekend. Keywords “One of the worst”.
She didn’t know what was going on, she didn’t expect it, she didn’t understand. And honestly, I felt like a bit of a failure because I couldn’t explain it to her.
I brought a portable DVD player, with her favorite Olivia the Pig DVD, and sat it down in front of her to watch. After the doctors finished everything they needed to do, Olivia laid in the hospital bed. She was scared. How could she not be? From that moment on, I knew she wasn’t going to let me leave her side and quite frankly, I wasn’t going to even if she let me. She had her arms around my neck a good part of the entire weekend, holding on for dear life.
We were in that ER room for 6 hours before they notified us at 2:30am that Olivia would need to be admitted and stay the night, because she was so dehydrated. We didn’t like it, but we knew it was the best thing for her. Dominic ran home to get a few things, including work clothes (he had to work at 5:30am!) and I rode up the elevator to the 5th floor with a nurse, and my sleeping baby.
She said to me, “you know you can stay with her through the night, right?”
I replied, “I don’t plan on leaving this hospital unless her and I are leaving together.”
Once we got situated, and Dominic got back, I sent him straight to sleep, and I put Olivia sleep.
I think I got a total of ten hours of sleep Friday through Monday. I just couldn’t keep my eyes off of Olivia. I was so worried. I felt so helpless. I felt so sad. I just wanted her to be better. I sat in a chair, right next to her, drinking the biggest Dunkin Donuts coffee in the history of ever and watched her sleep.
She woke up still feeling super lethargic, and still had a dry-as-a-bone diaper. She didn’t pee for 13 hours straight, and obviously that is just not okay.
Dominic was at work that morning, so it was just me there. It was hard, being there without him, having to deal with all of this by myself for a few hours. But I knew that it wasn’t like he was doing it on purpose, and I knew that he would’ve done anything in his power to stay with us if he could’ve.
They had Olivia on a copious amount of fluids. We all just wanted her to pee. I wish I could give you a timeline of when things were happening, but being on no sleep, my weekend just kinda ran together into one day, if that makes sense.
So sometime in the afternoon, Olivia started to become super fussy. She didn’t want to lay, she didn’t want to watch TV, she wanted me to hold her, but when I did, she didn’t want it anymore. Something was wrong, she was uncomfortable and restless and I didn’t know why.
Finally, I notice that it was her belly. Her belly was all of a sudden harder than the floor I was standing on and I called the nurse in immediately. They came to the conclusion that her bladder was taking in the fluids, but wasn’t releasing them. Her belly filled up like a balloon with fluids, and her body just wasn’t letting her deflate.
And then, the second worst thing happened.
They came in and decided to do a cath. Kind of like a catheter, but instead of staying inside, it went in, sucked up all of her urine, and then they took the tube out. Because Olivia’s little body was so stressed, and scared, she kept her muscles tightened, making it pretty much impossible to get anything out. They tried the cath THREE times, while I sat there and listened to my daughter scream and cry. Finally they said, “let’s let her calm down a bit, we’re gonna go get another doctor, and then we’ll try again.” Literally a minute later, after she was able to calm down and I was able to hold her, I felt her body relax and in seconds, her diaper was full of pee. Thank the Lord, because I don’t think I would’ve been able to go through that again.
I think once I let the nurses know, we all kind of did a silent, mutual happy dance in our heads. It’s crazy the things you get excited about when there’s a child involved.
She went through the stomach hardening and body stressing once more, about an hour later, and then she was good for the night. Not peeing a lot, but more relaxed and even ate a little bit of chicken broth!
Dominic made a stop home after work, to get me some things so I could shower. Some new clothes, some snacks, an extra large coffee. He felt so bad that he couldn’t be here while Olivia was going through so many awful things.
Saturday night, I put her to sleep and around 3:30am (I was up watching Netflix), I started to smell something. I figured she had pooped and wanted to change her diaper so I could give it to the nurse (they had been taking all of her dirty diapers and weighing them to see if she was letting out enough fluid). When I got up from the chair to check, I pulled Olivia’s blanket off to find -tmi!- that there was poop everywhere. All over her, all over her bed, her blankets. It was awful. We gave her a shower, the nurses changed her sheets, and then I laid down with her and fell asleep with her arms around my neck.
About an hour later, I woke up to her calmly laying on her side, looking at me, laying in her throw up. Here we thought our baby was finally on the mend, and instead she wasn’t getting better at all. We felt helpless and just so so sad.
Sunday morning, we all woke up and we could tell it was going to be a better day. Olivia started to have her energy back a bit, we were able to take her around the hospital floor to stretch her muscles, and she was even smiling a little. It was a much better day, and I felt Dominic and I start to relax. It was almost over.
One of the times that we went for a walk, Olivia had tripped over the IV cord and fell on her knees. She was fine, I mean, the girl always falls, but about an hour after her spill, she started pointing at her foot (that’s where the IV was) and was crying. Like it hurt her. So, I took her foot in my hand and looked at it. I noticed that my hand was really wet, and I figured out that her IV was leaking. I called thr nurse in, and she took it out. She explained that she was going to unfortunately have to put another one in. She explained that although Olivia was acting a like she was feeling a little bit better, she was still too dehydrated to be on her own.
The last and final, and probably the WORST part of the entire weekend.
I held Olivia’s top half, the nurse held one leg, and Dominic held the other. When the nurse went in to put the IV, Olivia screamed at the top of her lungs, “Mama! Stop it! Please! No!” I wanted to die, right then and there. She was looking to me for protection, and there was nothing I could do.
Oh and it gets worse.
The nurse couldn’t get the vein. Apparently, when you’re dehydrated, your veins collapse making it next to impossible to put an IV in. The nurse called in another nurse, so she could try. That nurse tried TWO different spots. Nothing.
“No mama! No! Stop it! Mama! Dada! Mama!”
And then they tried to find someone a little stronger to hold Olivia’s bottom half down, and that nurse tried twice, too.
I don’t think I have ever felt like a worse person in my whole life. If you counted, that was FIVE TIMES that they had to poke my baby girl with a freakin IV and failed. I know it wasn’t any of the nurse’s faults, we needed someone to blame, right? (For the record, those nurses were AMAZING.)
We decided to let her calm down for a few hours, let her drink and eat some ice chips to get her hydration level up a bit and Dominic was supposed to be getting ready for work. He called off. “There is no way I am leaving either of you.” Our hero.
A few hours later, we took Olivia on one last walk before they had to do the IV again. By then we sadly knew the routine, I had to listen to one more tiny voice screaming, “Mama! No more! Please! Stop it!” and then it was over.
I still cannot think about that moment without crying. It was the most heartbreaking moment of my entire life. Why did she have to be so smart and know EXACTLY what words to say to me? I just wanted to take my baby and run. I didn’t though, obviously. I knew she needed to be in that hospital bed, on those IV fluids.
Sunday evening, Dominic made a quick trip to our house to get some more things, and brought us Portillos because we were so tired of hospital food.
Olivia ate some chicken, rice, corn and then fell asleep. It thankfully only went up from there.
She had a really good night, we were all able to catch more than just three hours of sleep and woke up Monday morning to a happy, laughing baby. We were so ready to go home.
And guess what? At 1:30pm on Monday afternoon, we were DISCHARGED (never thought we’d be so happy to hear that word.) and got to go home.
The Pros (I’m using the word VERY loosely) of the weekend:
Baby hospital gown. Who knew those even existed? And yes, I kept it.
Since I didn’t sleep, and was hopped up on the most coffee I’ve ever consumed in a short amount of time, I was able to finish The Killing on Netflix. I cannot get over how good it was. Seriously, it was so good that I’m STILL thinking about it. I highly recommend it.
Dominic and I are even closer because of this, if you can believe that one.
The hospital staff was AMAZING. I’m not even exaggerating. I’m actually waiting for Olivia’s medical records to come in the mail so I can look up every one that took care of us and write a letter to the hospital director thanking them for the great service.
ALL OF THE LOVE. Everyone on Facebook, Instagram, Twitter….all the calls, texts, emails. We are so lucky to have so many people in our lives that love and care for Olivia. We asked for no visitors this weekend, we wanted Olivia to relax and get as much rest as possible, but all of the love from every other outlet was appreciated so much.
Being a parent, your job is to protect your child. You know you’d do everything in your power to make sure they’re safe. We did that by bringing her in to be seen. But it sucked that we couldn’t protect her from all of the pain. I think I speak for both us of when I say that we both wish it could’ve been us in that hospital bed, getting stuck with a needle so many times, instead of Olivia.
It was so tough to see our daughter go through so much, in such a short period of time, but we are thankful that the worst is finally over. I can’t believe it’s already been a week. When she woke up Tuesday morning, you can tell she was so happy to be home. We still kept her in our room, and when we woke up, she walked around the top floor touching everything. Her daddy put up some lights in her room while she was away and when she woke up to find them, she was mesmerized. I wish he could’ve seen the happiness in her face. She just had this smile on her face, so glad to be home and to not have woken up with an IV stuck in her foot and people waking her up every few hours to take her vitals :) And for the past few days she has been eating so much, I think she missed food. I don’t blame her.
I will admit one thing though. Because of this whole hospital experience, we’ve noticed that Olivia is a little traumatized. She still won’t go to sleep by herself, and she woke up a few days this week, crying, shaking, so scared. It’s been hard to watch, but finally today she woke up SO happy, back to her normal self. Jumping on me, laughing, running and I am happy to report that I think the bug is completely gone and behind us.
Oh and one more thing, when we came home that Monday. The house was immaculate. One of the times that Dominic came home, he cleaned the whole house so that when we came home, I “didn’t have to worry about anything.” I am so so lucky.
So anyway, that explains my blogging silence. I’ve been too busy staring at Olivia, making sure she’s okay. Getting back into a schedule. I promise to be back next week with regular posts, pictures of happy Olivia, a new fitness adventure (that I really really LOVE!) and maybe I’ll even get around to finally writing a review that I’ve had drafted since mother’s day…..yikes.
Have a good Friday, everyone.