Lessons from the NICU

 Sister Bonnie H. Cordon posted on facebook a few days ago about a bouquet of flowers she received. As with all flowers, the bouquet started to die so she was ready to throw them away. She carried them to the trash and turned them upside down to empty them into the can but they didn't move. She tried again and shook a little harder, still nothing. As she pulled the arrangement apart, she noticed small coils, wires, and lattice hidden being used to make the bouquet strong and long-lasting. She then related it to us. Sometimes we have to be pulled and torn apart to see the strength within us. 

Let me tell you, that's where I am right now. I feel like I am being pulled and ripped apart. I only hope that I have enough strength to make it through, but I know any strength I do find during this time is coming from Christ. 

One of the first ultrasounds of Spencer, he showed

 us just how strong he is by flexing' a muscle

I am no stranger to trials. And each time I question "Why me?" but not in the way you might think. I question why me and why right now? What is Heavenly Father teaching me through this trial and how can I become more like Him because of it? What do I need to learn?

Here are some of the things I've learned during this NICU journey so far:

Lesson 1:"Never suppress a generous thought"-Camilla E. Kimball

I have had a couple of people approach me and say things along the lines of "I was going to text you and see how you were but I know you're probably being bombarded with texts and calls from people and I didn't want to bother you." I get it. I have had those same thoughts before. But apparently everyone must be thinking the same thing because no one is checking in with me. I'm not getting texts. I'm not getting phone calls. No one is bothering me about anything. 

I don't write this for pity. I write this because this is a lesson I needed to learn. I have had so many thoughts of things I could do or say for someone else and I never followed through because I was worried about burdening them. But seriously, what's the worst that could happen? They get a text from you, think "it's so nice that someone is thinking about me", and then don't respond because they're busy. That doesn't sound like a bad thing if you ask me. This experience has helped me to re-commit to not only thinking of others, but following through on all of my random thoughts of things I could do for someone else whether it's a text, a meal, flowers, chocolate, whatever.  You never know what a difference just one text can make.

Lesson 2: Just because we've done the NICU thing before, doesn't mean we are "pros" at it or that it is easy.

Each one of our NICU experiences has been so different and it seems like each one has gotten progressively more difficult. When Lydia was born, Thomas and I had just graduated from BYU and we weren't working. We had no other kids so all our focus could be on Lydia. We visited the NICU 3 times a day most days. When Danny was born, Thomas was working long hours in residency, we had 2 kids at home, and because of COVID we were not allowed to visit at the same time. It was hard to find time to visit Danny, but with the hospital being just 10 minutes away I was able to visit almost every day. With Spencer, it is a whole new ballgame. He is a little over an hour away and we have 3 kids at home. Going to visit him means I need to carve out at least 5 hours so I have time to drop off kids, drive to the hospital, get Spencer out which takes a while with all his wires and tubes, hold him, pump, drive back, and pick up the kids. Lydia has been extra clingy lately and begs me not to go to the NICU and to stay home. 

Each kid has been different, too. They each have their own challenges and the long NICU stay is so full of ups and downs that its hard to push through. We try not to think too much of the expense as well, but it's pretty high. Between the actual hospital bills, eating out since we are driving so much, gas for the long drives, and child care, it can get hard. I have skipped so many meals between driving and being at the hospital.

I feel like I am being pulled in so many directions. No matter where I am and what I am doing, I feel guilty for not being somewhere else or doing something else. Should I be at home with the older 3 or at the hospital with Spencer? When I'm home should I be playing with the kids, cooking, cleaning, mowing, working on my calling, pumping, or a host of other things.

I know most moms feel the pull of having too many things to do. It's just so hard to feel like I'm either abandoning my 3 older kids or my helpless baby. I get choked up thinking of poor little Spencer laying in isolation at the hospital all by himself for days at a time.Then when I get back from visiting Spencer, I'll hear about Danny crying the whole time or the kids fighting and feel guilty for leaving them. Not to mention the utter exhaustion.

So no, we are not pros. It is so different than our other NICU stays.

                                                    

Lesson 3: You can't judge a book by it's cover

You never know what people are going through. When I step into an elevator at the hospital, I don't know if the other people in the elevator are going to visit their wife who is about to or just had a baby, going to visit someone that has been in the hospital for weeks, going to the NICU to see their baby who will soon be going home, or going to the NICU after getting bad news about their baby. Everyone has a mask but what is behind that mask? A smile? A frown? Concern? Hope? Despair?

Even without a mask, it is easy to smile while crying inside. It is easy to put on a front of strength, faith, and hope when deep down I feel terrified, depressed, guilt, and pain. Twice I have had to leave the NICU early and rush to my car before I let the tears flow. 

Spencer is ok. He is stable. But it is going to be a very long road ahead of us. He is 4 weeks old today and it feels like we are exactly where he was 4 weeks ago. He still is on the non invasive ventilation, he is still having bradys and apnea spells, he is still under contact precautions and in isolation, he gains weight sometimes but then will lose weight, and recently they found a heart murmur from a PFO. This will most likely not need intervention, but it is still hard to hear. I feel like he isn't progressing. He's not moving forward. The doctor calls with an update every day and 90% of the time they say "Spencer is stable. We're not making any changes today." No changes. I guess it's better than going backwards (which he has done a little), but no changes really stinks. 

Life is hard. Everyone has challenges. I just hope that I come out a little bit better after each of mine. I hope I'm a little more empathetic, that I have eyes to see the pain behind the smile, that I can have the courage to help even when someone says they don't need it, that I can say the right things to let people know I truly care, that I can be real and vulnerable so others know its ok. I am grateful for the help I've gotten and I'm sure I have a lot more to learn from this experience. 

You were NOT a mistake!

 Spencer Allen Seymour was born May 2, 2021- just shy of 9 months after our Danny boy. Because of this, we have gotten a lot of questions and comments such as "Oh well that was definitely an accident", "What were you thinking?", "How are you ever going to do that?", "Your husband is a doctor, don't you know how it works?", and other similar things. 

First of all, it's none of your business. This is between Thomas, me, and the Lord. Secondly, yes of course we know how it works. And thirdly, I do not want Spencer to EVER think he was an accident, mistake, or unwanted. 

Yes, Danny became a big brother at 9 months. And yes, I am worried about being a good enough and strong enough mom to handle it well so when you ask what we were thinking or question how I am going to do it, it doesn't really help my confidence. Some support would be more appreciated. This was something we thought through and prayed about a lot. 

But since we've had so many questions, let me tell you about how our decision was made. While I was pregnant with Danny, I had a distinct impression that he was not going to be our last. I thought it was strange since we hadn't even had Danny yet so I kept it to myself. Once Danny was born, things were really hard for me. I cried a lot and struggled through his NICU stay as he had several ups and downs during those 10 weeks. Even though I was consumed with worry about Danny and struggling balancing time between the NICU and home, while I was sitting holding Danny one day, I felt that strong impression again and added to it that we needed to have our next one soon. Lydia, Evan, and Danny are all about 2 1/2 or more years apart so I figured maybe we should have another one in a year or so. I went home and told Thomas about my feelings, nervous he would think I was crazy. Surprisingly, he told me he had had the same exact impression and felt that we shouldn't wait. 

Now, when we had the thought that we shouldn't wait, we figured it'd be a while. Getting pregnant takes time, right? Apparently not for us. We knew we weren't supposed to wait, but we definitely didn't expect to get pregnant so soon after. But accident/mistake? No. 

When I started feeling nauseous, I figured it was a stomach bug or my gastroparesis acting up. I randomly took a pregnancy test just to see and when it came back positive, I kinda freaked. I took 3 more to make sure then I texted Thomas at work and said "hey let me know when you have a minute." Thomas was pretty shocked to get a pic of a positive pregnancy test while in the middle of rounds at the hospital. I was/am terrified of how I was going to handle it. But at the same time, in the back of my mind, I had this sense of peace that this was according to God's plan. 

                           

Fast forward 20 weeks. I started having the preeclampsia signs. My blood pressure was rising, headaches starting, etc. This was the earliest the symptoms have started and I was so scared of what that meant. I held out for as long as possible but despite medications and other interventions, my symptoms continued to worsen. At 27 weeks and 5 days, I felt terrible. I was in tears since the headache that had been going on constantly for a month was even worse and I just felt bad all over. I went to the hospital with a blood pressure of 185/109. While there, the team decided things had gone on too long and were worried delivery would be soon. Unfortunately, the hospital in Conroe only goes down to 28 weeks gestation, so I was transferred to the Texas Woman's hospital downtown. There, the NICU takes down to 22 weekers. 

       

While there, I kept hoping that I would be able to stay pregnant until at least 32 weeks. However, the symptoms kept getting worse. Sunday morning, I woke up at 2am and the thought "May 2nd isn't a bad birthday" popped into my head. I was like, wait. Where did that come from? I'm not ready yet! 

I said a prayer. I asked Heavenly Father to help me know if this was the right thing to do. During my hospital stay, I had been tempted several times to lie about my symptoms and say that they were gone or had diminished when in fact they were just getting worse. But I wanted to keep this baby in as long as possible. I would suffer through the symptoms if it meant keeping him in. I needed to know what to do. Should I lie? 

My answer came about an hour later when I woke up to contractions. I have never in my life had contractions. At first, I was confused. What was going on with my body? What was happening? Then the nurse came in and asked if I was feeling contractions because they were showing up on the monitor. The thought came into my head, "Spencer is ready to come into the world now. This is how he's showing you." 

Peace. That's the only thing I can say. I wasn't as terrified as I thought I would be. 28 weeks is the earliest of all my babies and being a boy puts him at a disadvantage since they seem to struggle more in the NICU. I should be freaking out. I should be taking everything back and saying the headache and vision changes were gone. But I didn't. I should be worried about how in the world we are going to make the commute to see Spencer all the way in downtown Houston while still making sure the other 3 are taken care of. But I felt good about him being at this hospital. They took 22 weekers! They will be pros with a 28 weeker.

Sweet Spencer was born at a whopping 3 pounds. He is here. We love him. He is part of our family. So no, he wasn't an accident. No, he wasn't a mistake. He is a special child of God and him joining our family this early and so close in age to Danny is part of the plan. Why is it part of the plan? I have no idea. I'm sure he will teach me many things and as always, our time in the NICU will be a sacred and trying time. I hope Spencer will always feel not only wanted, but needed in our family. We love you, Spence!