Reasons to Freak Out

I don't know if I've made myself clear.

I'm completely freaking out.

Isn't everyone who is at the brink of having their first child?
This morning, I rolled over, looked at the clock, pet the pups, rolled back over, gave Kev a little snuggle and laid under the covers for another HOUR resting. A WHOLE HOUR. Then, I started freaking out- THIS MIGHT BE THE LAST TIME I CAN DO THIS FOR THE NEXT 18 YEARS!?!

Ok- so then I made the realization that I can probably con someone, anyone, into making Nora their responsibility in the a.m. at least once in the next 18 years. And, goodness I sure hope that I can teach an ounce of responsibility to her before 18 that ensures I don't have to be there every waking moment of her existence. At the very least, I can act really, really, really tired so Kev will have to do it. :)

Rolling over and going back to sleep is a very real thing to freak out about.

Turner's Syndrome is not a reason to freak out.

Nora has Turner's Syndrome.
Soooooo? What's the big deal?

Nora might be short. She might not be able to have kids of her own. She might have one less X chromosome than her best friend.

She also might be a marathon runner or champion discuss thrower or spelling bee extraordinaire. She might be terrible at sharing. She might love chocolate cake. She might be a miserable swimmer and hate the snow.

I'm totally over the whole Turner's Syndrome ordeal. It doesn't scare me, it doesn't bother me. Sure, it concerns me because we have some parenting things to figure out in how to discuss this all with Nora, how to make the best decisions medically for Nora, how to be proactive and not allow it to be her everything. But also, some days just let it be her everything.

I imagine Turner's might be something like any other "thing" we deal with. Like how sometimes having glasses totally sucks because you get self-conscious about looking nerdy as a kid, and other days you forget your contacts when you're skiing and it totally ruins the day. And sometimes someone tells you that you look beautiful in glasses, and just like that glasses are just not that bad. Sometimes it will be frustrating, and annoying and even the cause of much sadness- but it's not going to make or break anyones life.

Heart Surgery is a reason to freak out.

Tons of people have heart surgery. Most people live to tell the tale. It can be rough. But they make it. I'll bet that's how it will go for Nora, too. It's gonna be a rough few weeks. And she is going to have a battle scar to show how tough she is. I'm going to be so bummed that we are spending weeks in the hospital, instead of weeks snuggling on the couch. And I'll get a lot more gray hairs. I'll be so tired. And our stress level will sky rocket. It's going to totally suck. And it's looming over our heads. And it's totally freaking us out. But we'll get through it. We'll come home and get to snuggle on the couch eventually. And it's totally gonna rock.

Lung surgery is a reason to freak out.

Current news leads us to think that Nora may not need lung surgery immediately. Maybe in month two or three she will undergo lung surgery. They seem to think that her lung function will not be inhibited by the masses at this point, but may cause infection later on. So, they'll need to be removed- but not immediately. At least we hope. Nothing is certain though- she'll let us know when she gets here. It doesn't sound as though anyone is too concerned about the lung surgery- at least not in the land of medical experts. But we feel pretty concerned about it. And rightfully so.

Child birth is a reason to freak out.

That's gonna totally suck. And hurt. And we both have no idea how that is going to go. Need I really say anything more on that topic?

Having a baby is a reason to freak out.

Having a baby is going to seriously change our lives. Emotionally. Socially. Financially. Physically. Etc. Etc. Etc. So, we'll figure that out as we go. But, for now, we're freaking out.

But, for real, Turner's Syndrome is not a reason to freak out.

If you're looking for a reason to freak out- let's start with child birth. That's happening on January 1. They'll induce at Children's Hospital that night, and hope for a day time delivery on the 2nd. Then, all the decisions start happening. And also, all the baby loving starts happening. And also, some more freaking out.

So, we have like 8 more days to roll over and go back to sleep.

Yay!

"How are you feeling?"

"How are you feeling?"
I've been asked that question at least a bajillion times since I announced my pregnancy.

At least three staff members ask me before 9am every day, and that number jumps to at least seven before the end of the day. Multiple people ask me each time we go to the doctor. Every parent of a student that sees me. Anyone and everyone that knows I'm pregnant has asked me this.

And to all of you pregnant ladies out there, I'm certain you can relate.
And once we have our children I'm sure that we're going to have some camaraderie in feeling bummed  that everyone has quit asking how WE'RE doing, and will instead just ask how our kids are.

But for the time being, everyone wants to know how I'm feeling.
When people ask me that question, I panic. It feels like a loaded question. I always start reading for signs...
Their tone of voice.
The angle of their head tilt.
Are they smiling?
Is there concern on their face?
Do they look excited?
Do they look nervous?
What are their eyes saying?

Most importantly, do they "know?" Aside from this blog, I've just recently started spreading the news of Nora's diagnosis to all the realms of our lives. But, word spreads, I know I don't have to be the one to shout it for others to hear. So, I must always wonder- do they know what we're fighting for?

I spend so much time trying to figure out how to respond to people because I don't know how they'll respond to me. And it's a vicious cycle because people don't know how I'll respond, so they are trying to figure out how to respond to me. Social expectations are so tricky.

I almost always am incredibly mature and make a joke. Or state the obvious, "I feel pregnant.". I'm like the female version of Chandler Bing at times. I never respond with anything to do with anything meaningful. When people ask how they can help I say, "Buy me a drink."

It lightens the air at least.

But, I'd sure like to answer the question this time.

How am I feeling?

I feel pregnant.
I feel like Nora's movements are getting sharper by the day- it hurts a bit.
I feel exhausted.
I feel tired of being pregnant.
I feel anxious about awaiting heart surgery.
I feel hopeful that lung surgery might not happen.
I feel scared that the worst will happen.
I feel uneasy about all the uncertainties.
I feel excited to meet our little girl soon!
I feel like pregnancy is far too long.
I feel nervous Luna and Torrey will get neglected when Nora is here.
I feel like time is crawling.
I feel awed by our little lady's strength.

I feel frustrated that we know about Nora having Turner's- it takes away from her being just our little girl right now. It makes everyone concerned. It makes delivery really freaky. It feels like it defines her at this point, before she is even born.

I feel like we've had too much time to think- like maybe if we found out right now, instead of 15 weeks ago, we would have less time to worry, and that would feel nice?

I feel delighted that we did do testing in order to find out what chromosomal abnormality was causing Nora's birth defects. It makes us worry, it makes us wonder, it makes everyone concerned- but if we hadn't done it the doctor's might still be thinking Nora's chance of survival was slim to none and we might not get the surgeries and the care she needs to keep her alive. But we did do it. So now we know. Now we are doing what we need to do so that Nora can live the very full and happy life God has granted her.


I feel grateful. Life isn't a guarantee, and it certainly still is not for Nora- but she has already been granted more life than doctor's first thought. She is beating odds each an every day. I ask myself every single day, "If so many are lost, why do we get to keep her?" And, I don't know the answer- but I am grateful.

I feel proud. I'm so unbelievably proud of Nora already. Knowing she has Turner's shocked us at first. It took some time to wrap our minds around everything. It took us a bit to mourn the loss of the flawless little girl we dreamed up previously. But then, I became proud. So very proud. I'm proud that she is a fighter. That she is already someone all her own. That she defies the odds. That she isn't just like every other little girl. She is my rockstar. And she is something so special. It's totally awesome.

I feel dumb-founded when people suggest that one day I might be "thankful" for Turner's Syndrome. I  don't hate Turner's Syndrome. But I certainly don't think I need to fall in love with the whole ordeal. Why be grateful for growth hormone shots, hormone replacement shots, heart surgery, lung surgery, edema, and the feeling of being "different." Sure, all of this will make Nora tough, and wise, and so wonderful for so many reasons. But, isn't ok to be mad that she has to endure it at all? I'm proud of her for it, but I don't know that I would ever be grateful for it? No mother anywhere could ever be grateful for this kind of hardship, right? Sure, it will make her who she is- and I'm pumped about it- but that hardly seems like cause to celebrate her heart surgery, right?

But also, I feel thankful for Turner's syndrome. Without Nora having Turner's syndrome we wouldn't know the depth of the love of those in our lives. We wouldn't know how tough Nora is. We wouldn't recognize this unimaginable, blind love and pride and faith that we are capable of. We wouldn't know what we are capable of at all- how strong we really can be. We wouldn't know our perfect little girl exactly as she is: positively perfect for us.

I feel loved.
I feel supported.
I feel terrified.
I feel emotional.
I feel overwhelmed.

I feel like a whale.
I feel so sad to have left my students, my teammates, my coworkers, my job for the next 14 weeks.
I feel silly when students run into my belly, forgetting it's grown so much.
I feel annoyed with insurance.
I feel lucky to have wonderful insurance.

I feel like I have a wonderful husband.
I feel like I miss hot yoga and wine and running.
I feel like my hips can't possibly get wider- if they did baby would for sure just fall through, right?

I feel completely overjoyed that in 2 weeks this baby girl is breaking free, and finally we can get this show on the road!

Thank God!

Bit by bit.

I realize that Thanksgiving is over, and we're on to Christmas. But, I hardly think we should discontinue our thanks just yet- or probably ever. AmIRight?

I'm feeling so incredibly grateful. I can't express just how grateful properly. I tried really hard in writing so many thank you cards this past week. Is there anyone out there that is excited to write thank you cards, especially after a big event, such as a shower? No. I think not. It is an incredibly necessary duty that can at times feel daunting. And any daunting duty is hardly enjoyable. But, I can't explain just how important I felt it was this time around. I feel like I could write a thank you card every single day of the week to everyone who has taken a moment from their busy lives to be there to make sure Kev and I are ok, make sure I am getting what I need and even a little pampered....Ok- probably a lot pampered. :)

We are feeling so much support. And some days it is completely carrying me. Some days it is nearly overwhelming me- but what a wonderful thing to be overwhelmed by? Certainly it is more fun to be overwhelmed by love from family and friends than sub plans or a messy house or the seemingly constant need to ALWAYS grocery shop....I'm eating a whole lot these days.

So, I'm writing to say THANKS! Thanks to everyone for all the things. Thanks for the phone calls. The text messages. The emails. The hugs. The kind words. The laughs. The distractions. The prayers. The encouragement. The positive thinking. The good juju. The love. The gifts.

I don't know how else to possibly go about showing everyone how grateful we truly are, and will continue to be in the weeks to come. I think I'll start by showing you all the outcome of all of you've done.

Nora Grace has a nursery! And I'm in love with this space. I go there every morning while I brush my teeth. I'm sure Kevin thinks I'm nuts. :)

We've got drawers full of baby clothes!

We've got diapers!

We've got clothes and diapers to grow into!

We've got a little more work to do!

We've got a changing station!

A bed, a mobile, and a picture of her pup sisters!

We're set with this lovely butterfly mobile- perfect for our Turner's syndrome "Butterfly"

We've got a full bedroom! Complete with a big basket of books!!!!

Yet to come: the most lovely rocking chair and pillow, right by the window!

I never intended to go all out in this room. Maybe I accidentally did? Oops! It became a mission of mine, something that I slowly had to work up to. I didn't have to work slowly because I had to manage my time- I certainly had to manage my time, but I am a time-management master- I had to work up to it because I've been afraid. I've spent so much time being afraid. And though I've adopted an idea of dismissing fear, it's taking practice.

At one time this room remained shut. Then, the door was opened, but little was done. Finally, I began progress- one thing at a time. One item here, one item there. I did little to ensure it looked like a bedroom at first though, I was comfortable with it looking like a big ole' mess. Slowly, we made it here. However, there are so many onsies, outfits, socks, sheets, frames, lamps, etc. that I've given a home to in this nursery, but I haven't removed tags or washed. I can't bring myself to do it.  I'm still afraid. With each step I take toward completing my work in this space, I take a deep breath, and remind myself that Nora can and will make it. Every time I say "When Nora gets here..." I have the secondary thought that I keep inside, "But what if she doesn't?" 

What if that "Possibility of stillbirth" does happen? What if she isn't strong enough to survive heart and lung surgery? What if something happens during delivery? What if, what if, what if? 

I realize every pregnancy with every baby has what if's. I do. I really, really do. But, I've just been told so many options, so many things to think about, so many reasons to worry, that sometimes I'm very afraid. 

Creating this space has become a practice in trust for me. I've been practicing trusting in God. Trusting in my body. Trusting the doctors. Trusting in Nora herself. After all, she made it this far- I absolutely must trust in her that she can make it all the way. I've been learning to trust this world, and slowly kiss away fear.

This isn't a task I could do on my own, however. I've had to have support. With each kind word I've heard, each joke I've laughed over, each gift I've opened, each prayer I've heard, each person I've hugged, and with every person that has shamelessly put their hand on my belly I've been able to trust a little more. Every time someone asks how I am doing, or the doctor says things look "beautiful," or whenever Nora does another summersault, I find a little more trust.

There is still more to do- both literally and emotionally. We've got a few boxes to unwrap, a few more things to organize and purchase. But, until I'm ready completely they won't be done. And that is ok with me. I haven't kissed away all of my fears. My worries haven't faded- but because of all of you and your positive encouragement and trust, they are growing weaker and weaker.

We've only a few weeks left until we meet our mark. We've made it to 34, something I once thought unimaginable. We see the doctors constantly, but in doing so we see Nora a whole lot too. Her heart beat is perfect they say, she passes all of her "breathing" tests, and my fluid, though occasionally sending scares, is doing a-ok. Nora has developed a great number of hiccups. She is showing us how tiring they can be with big yawns, and she sticks her tongue out at us, letting us know just how much trouble she will someday be! And what's more? She has a whole lot of hair! What a surprise, and so much fun (No, I don't have heartburn folks, I'm chalking that one up as an old wives tale!).

We can't thank you all enough. There are no words to express our gratitude for the many friends and family members that have helped and guided us up to this point.

Keep the prayers coming! I think the scariest might be yet to come, my friends!

 2D Nora Grace at 34 weeks! I think there is really a baby in there, guys!

Woah.

Every year at this time I listen to solely Christmas music. I am loyal to but one station, KOSI 101.1. It's a Denver station, but Fort Collins picks it up quite well.

Every year at this time KOSI does a marathon fundraiser for  the Ronald McDonald House. Every year I listen. They tell heartbreaking and heart warming stories of families that need to stay for weeks, months, or even over a year at this wonderful establishment while their loved ones receive care in the outstanding Denver hospitals. Usually the stories are of kids that are at Children's Hospital- those are after all the most heart wrenching and make people want to donate. It's a good strategy for them, really.

I always hear. I always consider donating. I never do. I always feel awful about not doing it- but I always have a reason why I "can't." We have student loans to pay for, house payments, we donated to _______ already, etc. etc.

This year though, I pushed all of those lame excuses aside. I called them up. It was incredibly hard to do because the guy just could not understand my name. At one point I am certain he spelled it Beipra. It was annoying. But, I stuck it out, got it correct, and made my very small donation. Feeling satisfied and hopeful that my donation might shine some good karma on me for the day that we may have to stay there, I turned up the music, content with myself.

The music did not play, however. Instead, it was time for another account of someones stay at the Ronald McDonald house because their child was at Children's. The announcer came on, "This next story is from a family that found out their daughter was going to need heart surgery before she was even born. Can you imagine the heartache!?"

Why, yes sir, I can. And also, "OHMYGOD- ISTHISREALLYTHEVERYNEXTSTORY!?"

They continued. The woman came on and described how at their 20 week ultrasound they discovered that their unborn daughter would need open-heart surgery to survive, so their family stayed at the Ronald McDonald House while their daughter received care from Children's hospital.

Hello, emotions.

I immediately broke down in to tears. I cry while listening to this fundraiser most years at some point. But, this year was no contest. It's a little unreal listening to people on the radio telling a story that you've rehearsed in your head a billion times as your own. It's not our story, yet. But it is likely going to be someday. And not just that, it was a story of sadness, requesting sympathy, requesting money.

And then, it was a story of hope and joy, too. The mom reported that they recovered from heart surgery and her daughter is "relatively healthy" 3-year-old. No one would ever know she had such a rough start to her life, she said. Wonderful. How wonderful. More joy. More tears. More hope. Nora can be that way, too, right? Oh boy, I sure hope so!

So, on that note- that's how I'm feeling. Pretty woah.

We've been keepin' on. We've been enjoying life thoroughly. And also, exhausting ourselves, which is what Kev and I do best. We're knocking things off of our list of "Nora Grace's Tales O' the Womb," we're preparing a lovely nursery, we are keeping incredibly busy, we are celebrating the holidays, taking birthing classes, and visiting the doctor constantly.

We saw the perinatologist in Fort Collins this week. Great news! Sorta. Maybe? Hopefully! It's too soon to tell, really. After steroid shots two weeks ago all hopes have been on Nora's lung masses shrinking in some way. After our latest ultrasound it looks as though the one on the right is a little harder to make out. It's certainly still there. They at least aren't any bigger. And, since they can't tell as well, it's completely possible that maybe that right one is shrinking a wee bit! Usually it would take 4-6 weeks, so a week and a half is not enough time to tell. Also, as baby's bones develop it gets harder and harder to see things on ultrasound. While also, you never really could make out the masses perfectly via ultrasound anyway. So, there are variables. BUT, there is hope! I'm taking it and running! You can too!

And, we have tacked on a few more doctor's appointments. Just to be safe they've started monitoring me twice a week. On Tuesdays each week we get an ultrasound to measure fluid as well as  Non-Stress Test (NST). Then, on Thursdays we get an NST. Then, we have all of our normal doctor's appointments, too. So, in other words, I've quit being paranoid about pre-term labor or watching too closely for signs of early labor. Turns out, they've got a close eye on me!

We've made it to 33 weeks! We have four weeks left before they'll induce! We don't have a date set- we will be picking a date on December 22nd, at our next adventure at Children's Hospital.

In the mean time, we are continuing to play and pray! And also sleep, because growing a baby is super hard work. We are starting to make sense of the things we need to take care of in order to be gone at the hospital for an unknown amount of time. We are figuring out what baby essentials we may need to get. We're watching birthing videos and also Christmas shopping. Life is happening! Yay!

We've had a wonderful shower, and I thank all of you that came and celebrated with us! Stay tuned for picture updates of the exciting last few weeks before Nora gets here!

Steroids

Great News!

When I play music, particularly Garth Brooks, for my belly, Nora dances her heart out. 

Good girl, Nora. 

It's almost unreal how much she moves around in there. It's very uncomfortable at times. Sometimes I can't focus on other things when it's happening. And, it's happening at all times, it seems. When I go to sleep, when I wake up, when I teach reading groups. When I walk the dogs. When I write. It's always happening. 

How wonderful is that!? It keeps me knowing she is just fine! And quite feisty! Good- we need a fighter! Not only will her entrance to the world require some umpf, but if Nora is going to make it in a house with Kev and I, she needs to be able to hold her own. :)

Despite the many doctor visits and appointments all seems pretty much the same right now. 

Except one thing. 

Those steroid shots I mentioned in the last post- they already happened! Initially, I thought the doctor was describing treatment for Nora after she is born with steroids, which is one way they treat these lung masses of sorts. But, I received a call from the doctor last week at school. 

"Hi Deidre. This is Doctor Schneider, give me a call back when you get a chance. I want to talk to you about some things I've found on the ultrasound from earlier in the week."

Messages like that should not be allowed to be left on my cell phone while I am attempting to teach children! I obviously left them reading a book for a few minutes while I took care of business. 

What did he find? He thinks the mass on Nora's right lung may have grown a bit from the previous ultrasound. 

WHAT DO YOU MEAN GREW? HOW BIG? SHOULD I BE WORRIED? YOU SAID THAT GROWTH COULD MEAN FETAL DEATH DUE TO RESTRUCTURING OF THE ORGANS- IS THAT HAPPENING!?!?!

"No, no," he says. 

He adds, "We are talking millimeters. Nothing to be too concerned about."

Yeah, ok. Riiiggghhhht.

But, I let him continue. 

He prescribed two shots of steroids for me last weekend. One, then 24 hours later, another. The steroids are typically used when mother's are at risk for preterm labor and their baby might need a little lung boost. The steroids help the lungs develop. Then, when baby comes early the lungs, typically the trickiest part of preterm delivery, are ready for action. 

In our case, it's used a bit differently. It's a new therapy. Seemingly experimental- but not supposed to do any harm, and can only do good. In some cases, when the masses (unknown for us at this point) are CCAM (or CPAM) steroid treatments have helped to reduce their size and impact on baby upon arrival. If it is the alternative to these said cysts (some other form of mass, lung tissue, etc. that would need to be removed), nothing will happen. Except, Nora will have some rockin' lungs. 

So, I went to the hospital. I waited around for an hour. They stuck a needle in my bum and I went on my merry way. Then, I did it again the next day. The shot wasn't that bad, despite my apprehension to doing it. It was no big deal, really. 

I was hoping for some Wonder Woman side effects- like maybe I would be able to do all things with steroids in my body! I wasn't. In fact, I was TIRED. This is mostly because I did not really sleep for the next few nights. At one point I was grading papers, checking items for Christmas, and getting caught up on emails at all hours of the night, for multiple nights. I also had some nice late night snacks.

I seem to have regained control of my sleep schedule. A vital piece of my well-being. Those that know me, know how precious sleep is for me- and for those around me. Have no fear, I'm back on track!

So, as I continue to check items off of my to-do list, we are praying. Praying that steroids are having an impact on Nora's lungs! I know that it is sort of a long shot that this can correct the lung problems, and she can potentially be lung surgery free with this treatment, BUT, I gotta have hope right? At one point it seemed like a long shot that we would ever even get to meet Miss Nora. Now, it seems like we for sure will! And that she'll live a long, happy life with us. 

That being said, I also am not putting lung surgery off of the table. I've learned to prepare for the worst, hope for the best, and pray! 

Join me, will you!?

Friends.

I feel like I've made about 10 new friends since this pregnancy began. They are all doctors or ultrasound technicians. And it's possible I spend more time with them than the friends I've acquired by choice through the years. We've had eight ultrasounds to date. We didn't have a single one until 11 weeks ago. Nonsense! We have seven doctor appointments in the next six weeks, at three different locations, and we'll meet and discuss at least seven people concerning miss Nora. It's completely nuts.

By choice or not, I'm quite glad we've met them all. They are all lovely. They help a lot, each bringing their special gifts to the table and discussion. We've become "friends." Some are techs, case managers, gynecologists, midwives, cardiologists, perinatologists, surgeons, nurses, endocrinologists, geneticists, etc. etc. etc. I'm not really certain that I know all of their roles or why we meet with them all. I'm just trusting they will make it all OK. What else can I possibly do? 

Regardless, we had an appointment yesterday. You can feel our fear rising in the days leading up to appointments such as this one. Times when we meet with the doctors that include ultra sounds we get tense and worried. Quiet. Those are the appointments that have ended in horror for us at times. It's always when they tell us something more than we already know. And usually it hurts to hear.

Not this time though! This time we left knowing almost nothing more than we knew last time. VICTORY! We had almost nothing to talk about after they did their lengthy examination of all of the things. Nora is still rockin' that hygroma, the lung masses, and her little heart- it still is doing it's thing, complete with a potential for coarctation..maybe? Nora continues to play tricks on the cardiologist. We can't wait for them to meet in person so Nora can apologize for her antics in utero. 

But, as I said, we had almost nothing to talk about after the hunt for trouble was through. We discovered there is a potential for a sort of treatment that could work on Nora's lungs after birth, and it wouldn't include surgery! Steroid therapy he called it. 

Now, I want to shout and scream for joy- you mean she might not have to tack on lung surgery as well as heart surgery!? Great! Only, if we're keeping track here they are discussing hormone replacement therapy, growth hormone therapy, drugs at birth for her heart, cords, wires, injections, and STEROIDS? "I'm for no harm, no foul, and there is no harm in seeing if the steroids help before doing surgery," says fancy doctor guy. 

Cool.Agreed. And I don't want to be a Negative Nancy here, BUT, don't they know I'm the resident hippie in my family? I don't do injections. I don't so much as do ibuprofen. I hardly even touch dairy and bread (unless it's cheese- cheese is good!) I'm the "all natural" one here. I like to know what is going in my body and how that makes an impact. I don't do doctors and injections to make things better, I do yoga and running. I don't pop pills, I drink water and take naps. Why must we always take all these "therapies," as they like to call them!? 

I've grown to love my "fix the problem, don't just cover it up" attitude. Never will I say, "my head hurts, I think I'll take ibuprofen." I chug water, take a nap, and relax for a minute. Dare I say I am tired? Well then take a nap, go to bed earlier, and eat a snack. I won't chug caffeine. It works great for me! It doesn't work great for everyone I know- but I dig it. I want Nora to dig it, too!

But these doctors, they keep telling me all the things Nora has to undergo and put in her little body. The mama bear in me asks, "Is that really 'no harm' to inject my newborn baby with steroids?" I mean, I guess, yeah, I can accept it. Certainly sounds better than surgery. And I don't really understand steroids or growth hormones or hormone replacement therapies, so maybe I'm talking nonsense. Bbbuuuuuuuttttttt, I'm a little frustrated with it all the same. 

It goes right back to my original feeling- WHY MUST OUR BABY DO ALL OF THESE THINGS!? Why can't she eat, breathe, sleep, snuggle, deliver and grow like the many babies I've seen before her? It's so annoying that for much of her life we may be injecting her with all sorts of things. She'll see a million doctors. She'll endure far more than Kevin or I have ever endured combined. And it's not even to "fix" a problem. It's to "cover up" a problem. Because she can't have that one extra chromosome, the one we somehow skipped on passing on to her. The one that would ultimately fix the problem. 

Only, I'm not even sure it's a "problem" to be "fixed." 

It's just Nora. And she is unique to her, just like everyone is unique to themselves. She is wonderful. And she is going to be active and fun and cool. She is going to have blue eyes. She is going to learn to ski and swim immediately. 

Someday, I'm sure of it, I'll write about Nora being the biggest blessing we could have ever imagined. I'll talk about how all of my silly worry and all of my words, my fears- all of it was dramatic and nonsense. I'll describe how I should have trusted in God more, and I'll feel embarrassed about being scared and frustrated about something as minimal as shots and steroids and a little surgery here and there.  I'll someday be full of shame about the tears I shed when I learned that my daughter was somehow not "normal." One day I'll think back to these days and wonder how on earth I could be so selfish and so ignorant to the important things in life. I'll be shocked at how silly I was to think that there was such as a thing as "normal" to even compare to. I'll wish I could go back in time and teach myself to quit worrying about it, just trust. Only trust. Only smile. Only laugh. 

Buuuuttttttttttt, I'm human. And that's sorta the problem. So, I'm worried. I'm scared. And I'm sooo tired of all that. I want to go to a doctor appointment and discuss only the pain in my tailbone, the weight I might be gaining too quickly, the acne I can't get rid of. I want to talk about that lovely nursery I'm creating without thinking for even a second if she'll make it here to enjoy the space with us. 

Thing is, I can't. I can't not have those fears. I can't not have those thoughts. So I let them come, I acknowledge them, then I shove them away. I push them far, far away, so as not to let them get in the way of my next great laugh, Nora's next kick or the idea I'll come up with next for how to decorate her room. I need to feel them- it's so important. But once I'm through, I can't allow myself to dwell. That seems dangerous- like it could sure ruin a person's spirit, ruin Nora's arrival, ruin all of the fun of being pregnant! 

I mustn't let that happen! Nora will know only excitement and joy and love when she comes. Or at the very least, she'll learn how to cope with things that are hard, seeing that it's ok to feel, but not let them destroy her. That seems like a good lesson to learn- I better start teaching her right away! 

So, now that I've rid myself of all of my thoughts and fears for the week, I'm on to celebrating the next six weeks! Six weeks left before we get to meet Nora Grace! Hooray!! 

Ode to "Daddy"

FACT: The following may contain mushy and lovely remarks. You've been warned.

This is my husband.

Biking with Luna (and friends, in the background) at Tour de Fat)

So is this.

"Wobbling" with some of my dearest friends and I...just weeks
before he wobbled so hard at a wedding that he ripped
his pants.

And finally, this is him too.

Atop an 18,000 foot peak in Mexico.

Dare I say, I'm proud of him? 

For some of the close friends of Kevin, the idea of hearing him called "Daddy" is almost comical- at times a bit scary? I mean he has, after all, committed a great deal of his teenage and adult life to being obnoxious, a smart-ass, and doing what he can to ensure no one has strikingly high expectations of him. He loves to encourage those around him to make poor choices so he can watch, and laugh. He certainly doesn't take life too seriously. He doesn't take himself too seriously. And Lord knows, he doesn't take me seriously enough! At times he reminds me of a neanderthal with his lack of words and expression coupled with the grunts I hear him make. He has a dry, sarcastic and mostly inappropriate sense of humor. He loves to live life on the edge.  I don't even feel bad about making these accusations of him- he will read this. But, I'm fairly confident that he couldn't be more proud that I not only have chosen to write about him, but also have not excluded these qualities that he possesses. I'm pretty sure he is quite proud- as am I. Regardless, the question still remains, with his adventurous, live-life-to-the-fullest attitude, can Kevin preserve his own life long enough to not only bring a child into this world, but watch it grow? Should we trust him to give this child pointers, guidance and and advice for life? 

...

One night I said to him, "WILL YOU EVER BE ABLE TO PUT YOUR SHOES AWAY, OR WILL THEY ALWAYS GO ON THE FLOOR THREE FEET FROM THE CLOSET?!" 

His response, "I'm just makin' sure your expectations of me don't get too high."

...

When he does something that I find gross, rude, ridiculous, childish, obnoxious, or all of the above, he simply looks at me, smiles, points his left ring finger in the air and says, "FOR-E-VER." 

OHMYGOD. I mean it. For real, GOD, OH MY! "Why is THIS the man you pointed me to, FOR-E-VER?!" is usually my following thought process. 

...

And then, THIS happens. We're having a baby, which in itself is proving to be a pretty stressful, wild ride. And now, our baby girl has a few big hurdles to leap before I can even let Kevin at her to teach her his ways of the world.

We are young. We are terrified. We have no idea what is happening. We just trust in the doctors, our instincts, and in God. There have been moments that I am crumpling. I don't know if I've ever cried or felt anything more deeply than I did the day they informed us that Nora may not live. I was a shattered ball of disappointment and fear. 

Kevin...wasn't. Now, don't get me wrong. Kevin is certainly feeling these feelings. Kevin is worried, Kevin is uncertain. Kevin is tense and stressed. But Kevin is solid. What comes to mind is the old phrase, "When the going gets tough, the tough get going." 

While Kevin has been taking the time he needs to heal from the trauma that was, or maybe is?, he is a rock. He is my rock. Not the kind with a heart of stone- the kind that can support me when I need it most. The kind that lets me call the shots when I need to, and calls the shots for me when I can't. The kind that trusts in my decisions and also questions my decisions, just to be certain we're really making a good one. The kind that makes jokes when smiles are necessary. The kind that doesn't take me too seriously. 

I have moments where I'm angry and and I'm sad and I'm scared and I'm dramatic and when I'm really happy. He let's me be all of those things; he agrees with me, he fights back, he hugs me, he smiles at me- then when I'm done he goes ahead and makes a smart-ass comment, just so my expectations aren't too high. 

It's positively perfect. 

The best man at our wedding once told me to stay as far away from Kevin as I could, "He's a jerk to you," he said. It was many years before our wedding. I remember it like it was yesterday, however. We love to laugh and joke about that comment (and the reasons he had for making it, which weren't invalid at the ripe age of 17), and then we laugh about how that same guy became Kevin's best man. Often times when Kevin does something that might just raise my expectations of him I say to him, "So THAT'S why I stuck with you, even when Wes told me to stay away. Brilliant." 

I've said that very same comment to myself at least 386 times since the first week of September- week 20- "the dark times" I call it. When he lets me go to bed at 7:30 because I've had enough, or when I demand a certain meal or project take place right then and there, when I need to cry or when I just need to relax. He is there for me 100%. And I notice. 

And in knowing Kevin is there for me, I know he is there for Nora, too. Being a dad during pregnancy is a confusing feeling, I imagine. He is disconnected, yet connected. He can't feel her every minute she is doing somersaults in my tummy. He can't have the connection I do with her each day. He knows this baby is his little girl, and he knows he will soon be "Daddy." I'm positive he can't wait to meet her, and snuggle her, and read to her, and play pranks on and with her, and teach her all the things I'm sure I'll have words for him about teaching a child. But I imagine what he feels while I am pregnant isn't the same as what I feel. Not because he is a neanderthal, but because he isn't the pregnant one. I do imagine however, that just as I do, there is more he wishes he could do- perhaps more ways he could be there for Nora as she fights. 

But I feel like he is there- always! He is doing all of the things I wish for a daddy to do. He is strong, but he is available. He is worried, but he isn't overwhelming. He is grateful, but he understands. He is gentle, but he is tough. He is serious, but not too serious. He is approachable, but he is cautious. He is both sure, and unsure. He is prideful, yet apologetic. He is already showing me that he'll be the best Daddy in the world to little Nora Grace.  

While everyone keeps asking how I'm doing and Nora's doing, and while the words expressed here are mine, not his- we mustn't forget Daddy!

Daddy is doing great!

Nora Grace's Tales O' the Womb

Nora girl is still kicking! She is starting to kick very hard- waking me up at night, keeping me from wearing certain clothes. She is getting very strong. AND, I think she is getting bigger- either that, or my hearty diet is starting to take a toll. I certainly feel pregnant now. I feel weird pains, and my back aches sometimes, and boy does bending all the way down take it out of me! Halfway is far more manageable. Trust me, I am not complaining. I am rejoicing! YAY! I get to do all of these pregnant things and feel like all of the things I am feeling are normal. Mostly. I guess?

As previously mentioned, our Nora girl is what they call "high risk." High risk for what precisely, you ask? Children's Hospital did a great job of attempting to answer that question for us. But, no one can really say- lots of things could go wrong- however, lots of things could go right! This is the case for all pregnancies, but it appears that Nora is seemingly "higher risk." They say there is still a risk of still birth, but they think that because we've made it this far, it's is less likely than more likely. They say her heart could need this and that. Her lungs could need one surgery, or another. Her little feet might stop swelling, but maybe not. That hygroma might grow again or maybe keep shrinking.

There are so many if's and maybes. My life is full of this right now. With my somewhat OCD tendencies and preplanned life, ifs don't really fit well. Planning seems impossible right now. Planning to leave your job for an unknown amount of time is a bit tricky. Especially when I must first find someone to do my job, then teach them how to do it. Not knowing how long we'll be in the hospital, who will take care of Luna girl and Torrey, what the future might hold sure is a new feeling to me.

Only it's not. Isn't life completely uncertain? Just when we think we've figured it all out, there is a twist in your plot, a fork in your road, or a new character you just didn't see coming. So, while it all feels different to know nothing is certain, I wouldn't say that much is actually all that different.

Feelings however make up all of our days. They make up our thoughts, our actions, our physical and mental state of being. So, when things feel different life is pretty different. Even if it's not actually different.

That being said, some days I feel pretty different. There are days that I live as happily as ever, completing my tasks, calling my friends, running my puppies, daydreaming of baby things. And then there are days that I spend a whole lot of time worrying. Truth is, I'm really scared. I'm really scared of heart and lung surgery. I'm frustrated that our little girl must endure such a rough start in life, and maybe throughout life, for no reason that I can find. There is no answer to why Kevin and I's little girl has been strapped with all of this hardship. We couldn't change a thing. There is nothing I could have eaten or not eaten, done or not done while pregnant. This happened from the moment Nora was conceived. And I'm pretty sure we humans have just about no control over that. Kevin and I are young, quite healthy, active, law-abiding, morally responsible (or I like to think!), caring, hard-working individuals. We work well as a team. We contribute to society in what we deem meaningful ways. We attempt to live the way that God intended, though, I must admit, we could certainly use some work in this department. Though, I certainly don't believe that our need to live a life more towards God is the reason God has given Ms. Nora all of this. He just doesn't work that way. Right?

So, turns out, there is no answer.
Not one that I can find.
Great news- there is a prayer for that...

"God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change;
the courage to change the things I can;
and the wisdom to know the difference."

We've all heard and read this a million times. But a book I've recently acquired about living with fear has enlightened me to the second paragraph of the prayer, something I'm not sure I've read or noted before....

"Living one day at a time;
Enjoying one moment at a time;
Accepting hardships as the pathway to peace;
Taking, as He did, this sinful world
as it is, not as I would have it;
Trusting that He will make all things right
if I surrender to His Will; 
that I may be reasonably happy in this life
and supremely happy with Him
Forever in the next." 
--Reinhold Niebuhr

Ah ha! Now isn't that lovely.

So, I've taken to leading a happy life. I can do nothing. I know this- thanks for that serenity and wisdom, God. Now, I ask for the courage to change what I can. I can, with the help of the smart, helpful, kind doctors at Children's, change Nora's outcome. I can give her all of the best care so that her heart and her lungs and her little self are in tip-top shape for this wild life. I can also change my attitude. Worry is part of life, and likely necessary right now. BUT, being optimistic can make a world of difference. I believe in the power of prayer, and I believe in the power of positive thinking. I also believe in the power of smiles, laughter, friends, family and joy!

I've taken this advice from dear friends, and from God himself:

"Trust in the Lord with all of your heart 
and lean not on your own understanding; 
in all of your ways acknowledge him, 
and he will direct your paths." 
-Proverbs 3: 5-6

So, I feel a bit like Carrie Underwood singing, "Jesus take the wheel."
But the truth is, I just don't have another option. I have chosen to accept that, and trust in the Lord that he can and will protect our little Nora Grace.

That brings me peace.
And sleep at night..when Nora so chooses.;)
Thank goodness.

ALL of these words are to say that I'd like to share with you the way we are finding so much joy in this pregnancy, among the worry and fear and the billions of doctors appointments, we've made a fun game. Game and distraction might be a little synonymous here. Either way, it's fun!

We made a list. Months ago I think. We decided to make a list of the things Nora has already done with us, and the things we have left to do with her before she actually gets here. The list was created to help us find a way to enjoy a pregnancy that might end in a loss we didn't know how to deal with. I guess it is still sort of that- but looking  far less dismal. I'm so grateful.

______________________________________________________________

The list is titled:
Nora Grace's Tales O' the Womb                                                              

There are things that she has already conquered
in the womb (in no particular order):

-Eat Walrus Ice Cream (4 times!)
-Eat movie theater popcorn

-Visit Portland, Oregon
-See the Ocean!
-Eat fresh crab
-Wakeboard
-Dance!
-Visit Steamboat Springs
-Have a party with chocolate cake!

-Enjoy as many long Saturday runs as possible
-Summit Mt. Elbert
-Summit Mt. Huron at sunrise!
-Walk for Turner's Syndrome
-Go to a beautiful mountain wedding
-Hear the Elk bugling in RMNP
-hike, hike, hike some more.
-Eat Sushi (not raw, but still delicious!)

-Relish in the glory that is girl's night
-Get a pedicure!
-Enjoy swimming in Colorado and Wisconsin lakes
-Camp outside
-Enjoy Cheyenne Frontier Days, rodeo and concert included
-Eat and Drink all things pumpkin related
-Golf
-Ride Bikes
-See Colorado Moose
-Fly in an airplane
-Visit Chippewa Fall, WI
-see Fireworks
-play in the pool
-go to our favorite dog park
-Dress up fancy!
-visit a pumpkin patch
-Carve pumpkins!
-Dress up for Halloween!

Here are some images of those things happening!

Eating Walrus ice cream! (celebrating 24 weeks!)

Hiking with friends- 10 weeks! 

Tubing with Presley- maybe 6 weeks?

Cheyenne Frontier Days! Perhaps 15 weeks?

Drinking all things pumpkin! 23 weeks!

Hiking Mt. Elbert- 13 weeks!

Oregon Coast- 16 weeks!

Eating fresh crab!- 16 weeks!

Puppy seesster Luna- just because:)

Baby Torrey- just because:)

Hiking in beautiful Steamboat Springs!

The hiking crew!

Just pretty! That's important too, right?

Sushi Night!- 23 weeks!

Visiting family in WI- 11 weeks!

Lake Wissota- 11 weeks

Atop Mt. Elbert- 13 weeks!

Halloween- I'm a "mummy"- 28 weeks!

Random selfie taken for my girlfriends- 25 weeks.

Dressed up fancy for an Estes Wedding- 22 weeks!
With Colleen- 15 weeks!

Hiking in Estes with family- 22 weeks!

Me- Today! 29 weeks!

Finally, the day I told Kevin we were parents-to be!
Wes and Kendall's Wedding- just 4 weeks!

I'm sure there are many more things that Nora has done and seen in this beautiful world. But there is so much more to do, too!

Here is a list of the things we have yet to conquer before she graces us with her presence:

-Run the Fort Collins Turkey Trot
-Eat Sweet Potatoes done right- with marshmallows!
-Eat Green Bean Casserole.
-Snowshoe with puppies!
-Watch daddy (Kevin) ski
-Shop for baby goods and essentials (we really need to get on this)...
-Run the Pumpkin Pie 10k
-Eat Pumpkin Pie (obviously, a post-run trophy!)
-Eat Walrus Ice Cream more times!
-Eat movie theater popcorn a billion more times
-Have a baby shower
-Decorate the nursery

-Purchase and put together (if needed) baby furniture. This is sure to be an adventure!

-Decorate for Christmas
-See Christmas lights!
-Go to Denver Zoo Lights
-Get a massage (coming this weekend!)
-Get more pedicures!
-Go Bowling!
-Take birthing classes (of sorts?)
-Eat P.F. Changs Mongolian Beef
-Walk in my graduation ceremony for my Masters degree (much to my family's distaste;))
-Drink a glass of wine! (If they do it in France, I might as well show Nora what that goodness is all about).
-Ring in 2015 with our dear friends and family.
Finally...we shall survive and experience the joys and terrors of childbirth. Oh boy!

I am certain this list will expand, and we'll check every item off of it as it does. I have a lot of feasting to do when I look at my list of to do's. I'm really good at feasting. I am sure I can manage.

I can't imagine any better way to spend this time than by having fun!

"If it's not fun, you're not doing it right." -Bob Basso

While we all continue to hope and pray that Nora makes it here, happy and healthy, join us as we adventure through the next 8 weeks!

3D Nora (sorry those of you that find 3D creepy!)
Covering her eyes were her knees, hands, and umbilical cord-
But look at the cute little nose and those lips!
(27 weeks!

More 3D Nora- her knees (and some pregnant goo)
are really squashing her face here...but there is a baby in there!

***Disclaimer- I can't begin to explain the headache that attempting to format these pictures in the blog was- please forgive me for the random order and placement of these images. 

Adventures at Children's

We had our Children's Hospital adventure yesterday.

It was a very long and exhausting day- but adventure it was. We saw radiology, cardiology, the maternal and fetal health center and met what felt like a billion people. 

To be perfectly honest, shit got real. 

There is nothing that can remind you just how fragile life is like seeing young children with cancer roaming the hallways and children in wagons and toy 4-wheelers smiling and waving while attached to IV's and pain medication. Children's hospital is a magical place. Despite all of the scary things that happen there, it is so smiley, and colorful and happy. 

Turns out, we've got some scary things of our own coming up. 

We started the day in radiology with a fetal MRI. MRI's are less than enjoyable, and they needed Nora to be still in order to get the images. How do they do that? Not let mom eat breakfast. For those of you that know me, not eating breakfast is like a death sentence- not for me, but for everyone around me. Hardly a big deal in the scheme of things, but I am a very hungry person upon waking up, so fasting ruins my day. Don't worry though, I got to pick a movie while getting the MRI, Frozen it was. And though it felt like Nora was dancing the whole time, they managed to get her pictures finished before I even got to see Elsa's ice castle, or meet the giant man with a summer blowout! They were speedy, despite Nora's "jumping and jiving." 

Then, Kevin fed me snacks and Panera, and I was happy again. 

Off to cardiology we went, where we had an echocardiogram with the same cardiologist we've met in Fort Collins multiple times. Surprise! Nora was in the right position right away! They saw her aorta perfectly. So, that mostly just quit delaying what she was suspecting all along. It's not looking as perfect as one might hope. And surprise, surprise, my blood pressure is a wee bit high. 

Then, off to the ultrasound. I was most scared of this. They weren't just looking at her lungs or at her heart, things we've known had some issues. They were looking at her whole body. Every nook and cranny. That always scares me. I'm scared they will find more things that are wrong. And I'm afraid more things just can't go wrong. Upon viewing the ultrasound pictures this doctor told us that he honestly can't really see much of anything of concern with her lungs- from ultrasound. But, don't worry, that MRI does a thorough search, so things aren't getting missed. 

All day we looked at all the things I hate knowing. It's all the things that make life hard for Nora. But, just as teachers do, they always included a positive comment or two to keep our spirits up. I can spot it from a mile away, the positive remark to remind us that not all hope is lost. I do it all the time- "Joey is a wonderful boy. He is very social and has made great friends, he is such a hard worker....however, [insert statement that will make mom's face frown]...." The good news is, as a teacher I never start with a lie. I never tell parents something that isn't true- I just don't want them to forget all the great things about their child, because a problem doesn't mean a disaster. I'll assume that's what doctors mean when they make these comments. I heard things like, "Your placenta looks good!" "You're both very healthy." "Oh, look at that image- beautiful!" "Despite these masses in her lungs, the rest of her lung looks quite good for a baby with cysts!" "Structurally, she is sound," "The rest of her abdomen looks great!" and my personal favorite, "You've got a party girl in there!"

Finally, we were set to meet. Not surprisingly, that meeting was delayed. We never moan when this happens, even though waiting is something we seem to do a lot of nowaways. We take it is a blessing. Things get delayed because they are giving families their undivided attention and time. We want that, too. So, if we must wait our turn to have that diligent care, so be it. We sat in the waiting room. I took a much needed nap, then we watched Friends. Perfect. 

In the meeting we had a whole team of specialists: Cardiologist, nurse of sorts (sorry, can't remember her exact title), neonatologist, geneticist, genetic counselor, two pediatric surgeons, a fetal care doctor (also, can't remember his fancy title- he compared himself to the perinatologist we see in Fort Collins, so a fancy doctor), and us. They all had things to say. And, they systematically went through each image of Nora and explained the good, the bad, and the scary. I asked questions in between, and they were patient, helpful, kind, and light-hearted. 

What they found:

-Nora's heart is looking pretty textbook in terms of potential for a coarctation (narrowing) of the aorta after birth. This is something that forms after the PDA valve(I think it is called a valve?) disappears after baby is no longer in utero. The coarctation occurs right at the junction of these two valves and requires surgery to fix. She has evidence coming from the left ventricle, the large space shown between two valves, and the small size of the aorta right now.  Turns out, it's more like 50% of Turner's babies have something like this. In utero, she is more than fine and her heart will keep beating as the aorta isn't really in charge right now, that PDA valve is. I'm learning so much about the anatomy of the fetal and human body I never knew. 

-Nora does indeed have masses on not just one lung- but two. They look enormous to me, but when I questioned them about the concerning size they commented that they are actually very small. The big giant bummer here? Not something that is a "symptom" of Turner's. Too bad babies with abnormalities in general are at higher risk for defects at all. They described this as simply, "Nora showing us her very unique self." Positive spin. Nice. They can't tell what it truly is, the images, though clear as day, don't show us an answer. It is either c-cam(s) which are cysts that need to be removed, and they may be harmful or not. Or something else that ends in emphysema (sorry, it was a long word, we'll get all of this information in writing soon). This is often something that just needs to be watched and if it impacts her respiratory function it would need to be removed as well. Again, in utero, she is ok. The lungs don't breathe air right now, so that can't stop her kicking either. If they were to grow in size, it's possible that it will throw off the structure in her body, and would cut of function to other things. If that happens, trouble. Let's keep high spirits. 

-Nora has edema in her feet. This is swelling. It's common in Turner's. It sometimes goes away, sometimes doesn't. It's cute in a baby with chubby little toes- trying to fit those bad boys into heels one day might not be so fun however- she should take that as a win, really- no heels? Brilliant!

-Nora is a little peanut. She falls in the less than 3%ile for her size overall. That generally is concerning for babies, and they will monitor it closely, but because she has Turner's they know why she is small- we just need to make sure she continues to grow. Her head size is indeed small. Geneticist doctor guy said "I was a bit concerned about her head size, until I saw you (pointing at me). I've been looking at cranium sizes for well over thirty years and can tell your head is also abnormally small. So, that explains that. She takes after her mom." Oh, good? Kevin was thrilled with this statement, he has spent years telling me about my abnormally small head. And I must admit, it was a pretty funny comment. He even had a tape measure in hand ready to measure my head for me in case I didn't believe him. I've had my small head my whole life- I believed him. :)

-Finally, I saved the best for last. Nora's hygroma is shrinking! A week ago at it's largest point it was 11.85mm, yesterday it was 6.6mm. YAY! In fact, they said they can't even call it is cycstic hygroma anymore, it's just a thickening of the neck- something that many girl's with Turner's are born with. VICTORY!

What this means:

All of this new information has the potential to change over time. Things can change rapidly in utero, as seen by her hygroma changes. But, they think that having met the 28 week mark we won't find huge changes in those vital organs. Although, it is said the lung cysts generally increase in size up until week 28, then remain the same or often they get smaller. So let's go ahead and pray for that! Essentially, only time will tell, and meeting Nora herself. They said, "We can't know everything, not until we meet her. She has to answer our questions." So, we wait. But we do prepare for what we think might happen.

We prepare by delivering at Children's, but continuing my prenatal care in Fort Collins. All of my doctors are communicating regularly, and sharing all information. That potential for coarctation gave us a pass to deliver at that wonderfully smiley place, with bright painted walls and cool kid stuff everywhere. Plus, it's super fancy there! Everyone take a big sigh of relief; I wanted this. I feel comfortable with this. 

We will induce labor, and from a cardiology standpoint they want very badly for me to still be able to deliver vaginally. That hygroma tells us she surely can. Thanks for the small head Nora, that should make things easier;). They'll induce around 37 weeks, or plan to for now. If they can push it longer to get her as big as possible, they will. They didn't think that would likely happen, however. 

After she is born things get rolling. She will immediately be started on a hormone of sorts- not a chance could I even begin to spell it correctly. This hormone buys them time, essentially. It stops that PDA valve in the heart from closing so her heart will continue to pump as though in utero. This way, they can slowly monitor the aorta and be certain on whether or not the coarctation exists or not. They'll also need to put a breathing tube in because sometimes babies stop breathing on this hormone. They said at Children's there isn't any need to worry about this as they'll easily monitor it and ensure she is breathing. In fact, Nora will have a whole team monitoring her when she arrives, they'll follow her everywhere, making sure she OK. They'll monitor using an ECHO, as we've used already. If the coarctation exists she will have heart surgery in the first week- usually around day four. This recovery is quick and she will be ok!

Before all of that, in her umbilical entry (that's what they called it- let's say her belly button), will be two cords. These will be inserted immediately. One of them is for monitoring her lungs, the other is for feeding. The hope is that I can hold her for a minute before she is rushed to get all of this- but that isn't a guarantee. That makes me frown a lot. But, I know her breathing is a pretty vital thing to ensure is happening. So, I'll accept it. She will be fed using this tube until they know what is wrong with her lungs. I'll be pumping breast milk ready for her to have once she is ready to eat. We're not really certain when that will be, it will all depend on her lungs. They will do some serial x-rays (every six hours or so) to determine what the lung problem is, and once discovered, if surgery is needed, that comes first then the heart surgery. THEN, she can eat normally. YAY! 

In the mean time, all the tests that usually occur for a baby girl with Turner's will happen. She will spend time in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit and the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. Then, she'll come home with us. All of that will likely happen quickly, it all sounds like just a few days recovery for each, and in the end only a week or two total. Then, we'll come back and visit a lot for the first few weeks and months.

Truthfully, it sounds so scary, especially now that I've typed it all out. But, those doctor's seem convinced she is going to be just fine. Despite the heart and lung surgery being, well, heart and lung surgery it's relatively "routine." They said my class of 4th graders seems far more challenging to manage than this. I sure hope they're right! Routine or not, breathing is a delicate thing for a newborn. And I'm not taking it lightly. But I am taking it knowing that she couldn't possibly be in better hands. She has got great doctors who seem to believe in her, and she has parents ready for action. She has all of you here cheering her (and us) on, and I believe God is right there with us- rooting for Ms. Nora. 

So, let's continue to pray for positive outcomes. Nora isn't out of the dark yet- but the future is looking bright to me! 

That being said, we have about 9 weeks until go time. We have: nothing prepared. We painted the nursery in August. We bought one piece of furniture. I think it's time we get this ball rolling! We'll start tonight by going on a date...perhaps this weekend we'll tackle the rest. 

Thanks for the many phone calls, text messages, emails and prayers for us yesterday! They don't go unnoticed! And we feel so blessed! Thank you, thank you!