Warning: A week late, no pictures and VERY long!
(Is anyone else having trouble posting pics on Blogspot?)
It all started in the Fall of 1998...
I was pushing Rylee in the stroller at the Spokane Fair. I walked by the merry-go-round and remembered feeling queasy. I started to wonder if I could be pregnant.
The laundry piled up. The dishes got out of control. I started laying on the couch more and more. Jason said to me, "Alisha, I think you'd better take a pregnancy test." (That's how bad things were getting.) Little did he know, that I had already taken a test... and it was POSITIVE!
At 20 weeks, I went in to have the routine ultrasound done. I had toddler Rylee with me. As I lay on the examining table, with a VERY full bladder, I tried to keep Rylee out of the garbage can, drawers, etc. while waiting for the ultrasound tech to finish up. The first tech finished and then he invited a few more in. This went on for a little while. Going and coming and asking if I could hang on for, "just a little longer". I was so distracted by Rylee and my full bladder, I didn't really consider that there might be something wrong...out of routine. One of the techs finally told me that they saw something that didn't look quite right. It still wasn't sinking in.
Later, that afternoon, I got a call from my OB/GYN. He said that he had reviewed the ultrasound pictures and that it looked like the baby had an, "open spinal cord". I listened and gave the occasional "uh, huh", but still didn't consider it serious. I asked what it meant to have an, "open spinal cord". Then he said, "Blah, blah, blah, SPINA-BIFFIDA." Oh, I knew that was bad! Then he started talking about, "Blah, blah, blah, PARALYZING" and " Blah, blah, blah, she might NOT be able to move her legs."
It was finally sinking in... this was serious. I don't remember exactly what I did next, but I think I probably called Jason at work, shed a few tears and wondered "Why me?".
The doorbell rang. It was my friend and RS president, Trudi. (At the time we were serving together in the RS presidency. I was her first counselor.) I don't remember her reason for coming, except that Heavenly Father knew I needed to talk and get a hug from someone.
I answered the door, acting as if nothing was wrong. She could tell something WAS wrong and asked if I was ok. "No, the doctor just called...the baby... spina-biffida...etc." She was so sweet and so concerned and gave me that hug that I needed.
Amazingly, by the next day, my attitude had changed. Instead of, "Poor me" and "Why me?", I felt that Heavenly Father trusted me enough to deal with this situation and to raise this special spirit. I was very blessed during this time. The Spirit comforted me hourly.
We went home for Christmas. We had a special family fast. It was so nice to be around family at this time.
A month later, I had my next doctor's visit, with a specialist who used more high-tech ultrasound equipment. As we were driving to the appointment, I told Jason, "I want them to tell me that it is NOT spina-biffida, it is not as serious as they initially thought and that it can be corrected by surgery, no problem." He wanted to hear the same thing, but was trying to be more "realistic". He said he didn't want me to get my hopes up too high and wanted me to expect the worst. I didn't want to. I was hoping for the best case scenario.
As we did the ultrasound, the specialist was quiet... looking, evaluating, and measuring. I asked if it was still a girl. Yes! I was so excited to be having another baby girl. I had been starting to connect with her already.
When the ultrasound was over, the specialist reviewed what he had seen and what he thought we were dealing with. He said, it was NOT spina-biffida, but something called a "sacra coxygeal terratoma". Ok, what's that??? Basically it was a cyst, located at the base of her spine, by the tailbone. They would watch and monitor it carefully, over the next few months.
The months passed. We had lots of ultrasounds, lots of doctor's appointments and even in-home nurse visits to give "non-stress tests" to me. With each doctor's visit, I kept my positive attitude and told Jason what I wanted the doctors to tell me. --Basically, they told me exactly what I wanted to hear every time. I'm sure it was part ignorance, part naivety, some faith and lots of comfort from the Spirit.
On a Friday, two weeks before my due date, they called for an amniocentesis. The results said that the baby's lungs weren't quite ready, but a c-section date was set for that next Tuesday. The doctors assured me that she would be ready by then.
The surgery day was kind of a blur. Because of this special case, the whole room was full. I believe there were at least 22 doctors, medical students, nurses, etc. The anesthesia didn't take effect right away, so we were all just sitting around for a few minutes. They tipped the table up, down, left, right, while my doctor and his assistant, played tic-tac-toe on by belly with a surgical pen.
Finally, the anesthesia did it's job and the surgery began. They did the "classic cut" Cesarean. This kind of c-section starts around the bellybutton area and goes all the way down the belly, instead of the low horizontal cut. This kind of cut, would allow the baby to have as much room as possible to come out, without too much bumping or squeezing of the cyst.
As they pulled Taylee out, they said, "She looks healthy. She's moving her legs. Oops, she just peed all over the table!" They took her vitals and accessed her. Then they put her into the isolette and barely slowed down for me to see, as they rushed her to the N.I.C.U. I remember the relief I felt that she was here and that I could breathe again. I said to the anesthesiologist, "I can breathe!" He said, "Good, keep doing that."
While I was recovering, Jason went into the N.I.C.U. to see Taylee, and watch all the action. She was SCREAMING her head off. She was so noisy and upset, they strapped her arms and legs down and sedated her. The doctor said she was so noisy, he was worried she was upsetting the preemie babies in the nursery. --Yep, that's the Taylee we know. :o)
By the time I saw her, she was resting peacefully and was covered. I was curious about her cyst. I tried to look, but they had it slathered with what looked like Vaseline and covered with plastic wrap looking stuff and a diaper. We later learned that they needed to keep it moist, so that it wouldn't break/rupture, causing possible infection.
She was so cute and so sweet. I didn't know what the future was going to be like, but I was glad she was here and appeared to be doing well.
The very next morning was surgery day. That morning, right before they took her into the operating room, they let us have some time with her. She was so alert, so awake and so peaceful. We talked to her and told her to be good. We told her that her job was to get better and heal quickly, so that we could take her home. --Because she was so peaceful and alert, I secretly feared that she was saying good-bye to me. Only for a moment did I entertain that thought and then I felt comforted, once again, that everything would be all right.
Everything seemed to go well with the surgery. They drained the cyst and then removed the tissue. This was the best case scenario I had hoped for.
During the night, Taylee had 2-3 apnea episodes (stopped breathing), one was significant. They thought it could be because of the anesthesia and took her off the heavier meds and just gave her Tylenol for the pain.
We still hadn't held her. I was aching to hold her.
She got a few days of recovery, before we finally got to hold her. She was so sweet and so warm. I couldn't get enough of her. Big sister Rylee got to come see her too. I was shocked to see how BIG Rylee was in comparison!
Finally, after pumping for several days, with not much luck, I was able to hold and nurse Taylee. Nursing her for the very first time was therapeutic and soothing.
The day arrived, that I was to be released and HAD TO go home. Taylee was not quite ready. It was hard to leave the hospital, without my baby. I cried.
By the evening, of the next day, Taylee was ready to come home. Yea! She came home with her little hand bandaged from a failed IV. She also had a little scar, right above her bum crack, where she had surgery. Such a little scar for a such a big deal.
She recovered fully and developed normally.
She is a healthy 10 year old today. She has had no known side effects or complications from this very dramatic beginning of life. --Unless you count, a hot temper, dramatic tantrums, and some doosy meltdowns!
Happy Birthday Taylee, I'm so grateful you're a part of our family. I love you!
