I've kept the blog light-hearted and carefree, but there is a post I've been wanting to write and can't seem to shake it from my mind. So, I'm straying from the light-hearted comedy and photos of the kids today. Although, it's still a happy post.
It was a year ago this week that Cooper had his tubes put in his ears. It's such a common occurrence these days with so many young ones, but for us it was a major turning point with Cooper. Let me take you back to the beginning...
After being on bedrest for almost six weeks at the end of my pregnancy with Cooper, my obstetrician removed me from the strict guidelines and declared me ready to have a healthy baby. Cooper was born just a couple of days later, at four weeks premature. Technically speaking, he was not considered premature, but if he had been born the day before he would have been labeled as a preemie. There was something wrong from the beginning and the nurse began giving him oxygen. They took him away and we didn't know anything for several hours. Eventually, the neonatologist came to visit us and let us know, in his long speech, that Cooper was having trouble breathing. (Sidenote: at this point he was just Baby Hardy because he was so early that we had not yet decided on a name. He remained Baby Hardy for three days.)
I remember our many visits with this man over the course of the next seven days. He was a strange man. He spoke quietly and had odd mannerisms. I was hoping for someone comforting and reassuring. Yet, this man would begin his reports by detailing every horrible, fatal issue Cooper could be facing. After 15-20 minutes of death-speak, he would sum it up by saying, "I don't think that's what we're facing with this babe." If I could go back to this man, I'd let him know that his bedside manner could use some work.
In that first visit with Dr. McScareUs TooMuch, he described Cooper's problem as mild, with just a bit of fluid on his lungs. This was familiar, as Abigail was born in the same situation and was fine after a couple of days under the oxygen hood. Yet, it was still a difficult situation. I never had to make the choice of whether to have my babies in the hospital room with me or not. That decision was made for me both times, as they stayed in the NICU. I ventured out into the NICU as much as possible, but it was very frustrating to not be able to hold a baby I had been holding for 8 months straight. My strongest memory from these days was watching the new mothers drop their babies off in the nursery and then step outside to the courtyard for a smoke break. I assumed they hadn't been cigarette-free for the pregnancy if they couldn't even wait until they checked out of the hospital. I was more angry at these moms than I've ever been with anyone. I couldn't help but think that it wasn't fair that they had most likely smoked while pregnant and they now had a perfectly healthy baby. I never so much as had caffeine while pregnant, and now had a very sick baby struggling to breathe. Whether it was because of these women or not, I didn't spend every waking minute in the nursery. Daniel spent more time in there. I was too frustrated to just sit there and watch Cooper.
It was Friday afternoon that we first got the report from Dr. McScareUsTooMuch. However, by Sunday the report had become more grim. The diagnosis had worsened and was now labeled as premature lung disease. Again, he scared us with his whacked out doom and gloom only to tell us that they had to up the oxygen and would leave it that way, while adding more meds into a line in his umbilical cord. We would revisit the oxygen levels in a couple of days. This was frustrating because I was to be discharged from the hospital that day, and we were not pleased with the idea of leaving Cooper at the hospital. The nurses were so kind and informed us that insurance paid for the room for the day, so we didn't have to leave until midnight. We took them up on their offer and stayed as late as possible.
The next day, I found myself in an awkward place. Life had to go on, but it was so surreal. A new mom should be home caring for a baby. But, we had so many responsibilties and no extended family nearby to help. Daniel headed off to the hospital early that morning while I took Abigail to a doctor's appointment. In the midst of the baby drama, Abigail had somehow embedded something like glass in her foot and it had become infected to the point that she couldn't walk on it. So, just three days after giving birth, I was without a baby and out running errands. It was such a strange feeling. Once Abigail was taken care of and I was able to hand her off to my sister who was visiting to help care for Abigail, I headed to the hospital for the afternoon. By this point, the nurses had become comfortable with us and were letting us change Cooper's diapers and feed him. I can't remember why, but he had to have bottles so I was pumping milk and leaving it in the nursery's fridge. It wasn't until later in the week that I was able to begin nursing.
When we arrived at the hospital on Tuesday, we were shocked to find that they had turned down Cooper's oxygen over the night. He had surprisingly begun to get better much sooner than anticipated. We were not surprised that he was getting better, but had braced ourselves for a longer haul and were elated at the good news.
Each day that week, his health rapidly improved and we were able to take him home much sooner than ever anticipated.
Throughout that hospital stay, I have to say that I learned how to pray. There is nothing like being helpless as a mother. The complete feeling of being at the mercy of God is something so indescribable that I had never experienced. As a couple, we had certainly never been through that. We had easily survived military deployments and long separations, but never felt so powerless and in need of God's mercy. I write all this today to describe how thankful I am for this experience. I never had faith in God like what I have now. Of course, we went through many illnesses and testings for everything from cystic fibrosis to food allergies with Cooper. For a while, we had a medical scale in the house and had to weigh him before and after every meal. He was sick much of the first 17 months of his life, and we were back and forth from the Children's Hospital to our pediatrician. But, never once did I ever question or doubt my God. I can even chuckle as I recall overhearing our pediatrician chatting with an intern about Cooper. He was describing Cooper's miraculous recovery from every issue they had been testing him for. Dr. Stadalsky would tell me every visit that it was God in control, but I think even he was amazed at how symptoms disappeared, and Cooper all of a sudden became a growing, thriving, baby with no medical explanation in sight.
I'm so thankful that God allowed us to go through that with Cooper, and not only do we have a perfectly healthy, happy son, but also a tested faith and strengthed prayer life.
This has so strongly been at the forefront of my mind because I see the tubes in Cooper's ears as the last step in that journey. A year ago this week, Cooper did not walk or talk as a 17-month-old child. The day after the surgery, we saw a miracle. It was so amazing to watch him hear sounds for the first time, and be able to walk because he could balance himself. And, not only do we have these memories, but this new faith that will take us through whatever God may show us.
