The Stormtrooper

I have a new best friend; her name is Bonnie. I met her two days after I gave birth to Cameron. More specifically, I came out of the bathroom and found her sitting on a lounge chair in the corner of my hospital room. Unlike every other visitor to my bed side, Bonnie was not interested in looking at my impressive collection of stomach staples; she had eyes only for my breasts, and the industrial-sized breast pump which she had wheeled into my room.

"I'm not breastfeeding," I told Bonnie as she came at me with two cone-shaped suction cups.
Bonnie wanted to know why.
It was none of Bonnie's business, but I told her the truth: I am taking a new drug for my Crohn's Disease and both my G.I. and OB-GYN advised me against breastfeeding while I am on it.

Bonnie had never heard of the drug before, but she was sure that the Chair of Maternal-Fetal Medicine at the University of Pennsylvania didn't know what she was talking about.

"Stay right here," said Bonnie, standing up. "I'm going to do some research and I'll be right back."

Bonnie blew her breast pump a kiss and then headed for the door. As she left, I silently admired her outfit. She was wearing solid white army fatigues and what appeared to be white snow boots. She couldn't have looked more like a Stormtrooper if she tried.

After Bonnie left, I felt an urgent need to protect my breasts from future unwanted advances. So I put on three sports bras. Then I made a beeline for the safety of the NICU.

About thirty minutes later, I felt heavy breathing on the back of my neck. I looked up to find a very angry lactation consultant staring down at me.

"You disappeared," said Bonnie, flatly, as she handed me a 1-inch stack of papers. The top pages were covered with drawings of circles held together by sticks; the pages beneath them were filled with chicken scratches that I vaguely recognized as mathematical symbols.

As I flipped through the stack, admiring the quality of paper on which the symbols were printed, Bonnie started using scary words like "molecular weight" and "atomic mass" to describe the form that my drug takes in breast milk. After a few minutes, I interrupted Bonnie with a quick plot summary of the parable of the pearls and the swine. I felt that it was only fair that she know that she was speaking to someone with the math and science skills of a third grader.

Upon realizing that her diagrams of molecules and atoms failed to impress, Bonnie produced a write-up of a comprehensive study on women who took my drug while breastfeeding.

"But the study only included six women," I pointed out.
To Bonnie, this was an acceptable focus group.

I had a feeling that my conversation with Bonnie was going to get real interesting, real quick. I was unfairly deprived of the opportunity to discuss the value of breastfeeding on a new, largely untested drug, however, by Bonnie's beeper.

Having been alerted by Darth Vadar to the arrival of a number of new admits to the maternity floor, Bonnie decided to abandon this fight for others in a galaxy far, far away.

The Latest on Cameron

Cameron's hemoglobin and platelet counts rose after his most recent transfusions, and then dropped again. Instead of transfusing again right away, Cameron's doctors decided to wait a few days in hopes that his bone marrow will wake up and start doing its job. Over the weekend, we also learned that Cameron has a very small opening in his PDA heart valve (a very common condition in premature and anemic babies). He can't start feeding until this issue gets resolved by nature or by medicine, hopefully in the next few days.

All in all, though, Cameron is doing great. He is becoming less lethargic and more alert every day, which is a wonderful thing to witness.

Cameron Update

Thank you again for all of your thoughts and prayers. I have read your comments, cried and laughed (when appropriate) over them, and have shared many of them with Cameron's doctors and nurses. My family feels very much loved and supported by your outpouring of support.

Cameron received another platelet transfusion yesterday and so far, is responding well to it. He's regaining some energy, as evidenced by the fact that he cried (for the first time) and is opening his eyes. Doctors removed his central line and downgraded him to a nasal cannula yesterday (both very good things) so we got to hold him for the first time! It was very exciting, and overwhelming. Here are a couple of pictures from recent days.

What I Learned from my Children

Prewritten Post # 2

Small children are blessed with unabashed pride in their own accomplishments and attributes.
"You are very beautiful," I told my daughter the other day.
"I know," she replied.

Somewhere along the journey to adulthood, however, most women stop taking compliments as incontrovertible truths about ourselves and instead, start viewing them as cruel jokes. This is proven by the fact that if you ever tell a young mother that she looks pretty or, heaven forbid, sexy, she will first laugh at you, and then insult your intelligence.
"You don't know what you are talking about," she'll bark as she pinches a layer of fat around her middle.

I worry sometimes that I am so focused on teaching my kids how to be better people that I forget that I have much to learn from them on the subject in return. Specifically, I fear that if I don't start following my children's example, then they will follow mine.

The next time that someone pays you a compliment, join me in resisting the urge to stomp on it. Instead, smile and simply say "thank you."


P.S. Have a great weekend! I'll be back "live" on Monday. I hope!

Baby Update

Announcing Cameron Timothy Mathews
Born: September 30, 2008
2:04pm
5 lbs, 11oz
15 1/2 inches

As many of you know, I contracted Parvovirus 19 (Fifth Disease) when I was between 14 and 18 weeks pregnant and, in turn, passed the virus onto my unborn baby. Usually the virus' effects on fetuses are very mild; unfortunately, in our case, the virus attacked the baby's bone marrow, thus making him anemic. How anemic, however, no one really could tell while he was still inside.

Shortly after Cameron was delivered on Tuesday, it became apparent that his anemia was far more severe than anyone thought. Tests revealed that his hemoglobin and platelet counts were extremely low. In addition, he had a significantly enlarged liver and heart. His enlarged organs, in turn, pressed on his lungs, making it nearly impossible for him to breathe.

The first 24 hours were pure hell (I feel bad even saying this, knowing that there are a lot of moms of triplets and quads reading this who have had 3+ months of NICU hell with their babies). In addition to receiving two blood tranfusions and a platelet transfusion, Cameron was put on a ventilator and given a paralyzing drug. Doctors also did numerous things to reduce the amount of extra fluid in his abdominal cavity and decrease the strain on his lungs and heart.

In the past 24 hours, Cameron's condition has significantly improved. The chief neonatologist told me this morning that Cameron is very lucky to be alive. The transfusions were successful and his bone marrow is starting to reproduce new blood cells, albeit at a very slow rate. Tim and I feel blessed on so many levels and for so many things. Sometime later, I'll write about it all. All I can say now is the obvious: God answers prayers.

At the moment, Cameron is in the NICU and will stay there for at least a few more weeks. Although he isn't out of the woods yet, we're hopeful that he'll make a full recovery.

Thank you so much for your continuted thoughts and prayers. Your support means a lot to our family.

What I Learned During This Pregnancy

I knew that my D-Day would come sooner or later, and since I couldn't guarantee that I would have access to a computer in the hospital, I wrote a few entries in advance. Here's #1:

Most women in Penn's High-Risk Pregnancy Clinic have been asked at least once if they want to terminate their pregnancy. My friend (let's call her Aalia) has been asked this question more times than the rest of us, and for good reason: Aalia has Brittle Bone Disease, a debilitating form of dwarfism. Standing no taller than the average kindergartner, the eight-month pregnant Aalia is all belly....literally. The added weight and pressure of her unborn baby has put such a strain on Aalia's petite body that she has a tremendously difficult time doing things that most of us take for granted (i.e. walking, sitting in a chair).

Because our doctors' appointments are scheduled on the same days and times every week, Aalia and I have had a lot of opportunities to talk about our pregnancies, and the choices that we have made in relation to them. Last week, Aalia told me the story of when her 20-week ultrasound revealed that the baby she was carrying would be born with the same debilitating disease with which she struggles.

"Would you consider terminating your pregnancy?" asked her doctor.
"Not any more than I would consider terminating myself," Aalia replied.

It's been a week, and I can't stop thinking about Aalia's response to her doctor's suggestion. Specifically, I am overwhelmed by this mother's love for her child...and for herself.

How often do we look in the mirror and lament our physical imperfections? More often, I bet, than Aalia does. As I catch myself focusing with increasing frequency on the inconveniences of pregnancy, I can't help but acknowledge with great admiration that Aalia understands with perfect clarity what many in the world never will: namely, that beauty lies in the gift of life itself.

It's A Boy! (you already knew that)

Baby Mathews was born yesterday afternoon at 2:04PM. He weighed in at 5lbs. 11ozs. Jana is doing well and is in good spirits.

The baby is surprisingly handsome (compared to his two older brothers, also born at 35weeks). He came a bit early and needs some special attention at this point but he is in good hands. Please keep him in your prayers.

I don't frequent "The Meanest Mom" but I know Jana appreciates all your support, whether you are a close friend or a loyal reader on the other side of the country (or world for that matter).

"The Nicest Dad"