Saturday, October 15, 2011

October 10, 2011, How Else Could Two Months' Salary Last Forever?

I had a tough week last week. It’s the reason this blog post is so late. Even writing about it was hard. I’d write a paragraph, stare at it for a few minutes, and then press backspace, watching the cursor eat everything on the page so I could start fresh.

It all goes back to Amber the student anesthesiologist. She placed my epidural in August when I was in labor, shortly before things unraveled and I ended up in the operating room with an emergency c-section. Problem was, she couldn’t find where to put the needle, and moving it around in my back caused fork-in-the-electrical-socket jolts to radiate through the right side of my body.

In the OR, when the doctors saw me close my eyes, I wasn’t “finding my happy place” as they assumed. I was going into shock. The mother/baby nurse who came to wheel me to my room after recovery was the first to believe me when I said that I was in pain. The epidural had been botched, as I suspected, and was only taking the sharpest little edge off my sensations.

Until I reached my room and was effectively medicated for the first time that day, I managed the pain by clenching my teeth so hard I felt one break. This Wednesday it needed a root canal. It wasn’t how I imagined spending my week (or the year of Kentucky Public Schools retirement I had decided to cash out, either). Once again I find myself in pain and trying to stay off medication for the sake of the twins. It’s not fun. I knew that UK is a teaching hospital, and things like that happen at teaching hospitals. I suppose every anesthesiologist has to botch a few easy procedures on their way to becoming a competent doctor. I just wish it hadn’t been mine.

Thankfully, the location of the crack meant that only a fourth of the tooth was bad, and the long term prognosis is hopeful. I should be able to keep it another thirty years. After what I'm going through, I hope so.

Amber the student anesthesiologist, I hope you have a long and fruitful career in which you place many effective epidurals and relieve much pain. It wouldn’t make my experience worth it, but here’s what does:



Carrie and Melina are thriving ten weeks after their birth. Sometimes I remind myself that it very nearly wasn't that way. I'm thankful that my surgeon was the kind of uberqualified individual that heads a program at a research hospital.

This wasn't really our first family trip to the beach. It's more like what happens when I want a family beach photo to include with the twins' baby announcements, scheduled to go out (better late than never) this week. Thankfully, my aunt and uncle were there to hold the camera and help carry the kids down the boardwalk.



Devon was more impressed with the sand than the water. We took turns carrying him nearer and nearer the waves so he could get his feet wet. The waves at Wabasso Beach are very unpredictable, and so his first wading experience included him getting snatched up to outrun an unexpected wave, and then accidentally dropped on his tummy in the sand. A warm Atlantic wave rushed right up to him, surprising him and soaking his clothes. It'll be an interesting memory to tell him about when he gets older.



Devon also had his first haircut. This took three people: one to hold the camera, one to distract Devon by feeding him blueberries (his favorite food: he calls them his "balls") and one to cut the straggly curls that were building up along his collar.



Devon was too excited about the camera shoot to turn around and let us see the back, but here it is.



Speaking of excited, Devon is finally getting to the point where I can let him interact with the girls a bit. I would never have let him sit by them while I held a camera up until now, but when the girls turned two months old and Devon eighteen months, I needed a picture of all three of my children. Melina looks a little overwhelmed by big brother's energy, doesn't she?



She looks much happier here. Yes, we have SMILES!!!



Smiles in the jungle swing.



Smiles on the changing table. Carrie this time. Can you still tell them apart? It's getting harder!



Who is this? Yep, it's still Carrie.



It's easier when they are side-by-side. I have the edge because I usually dress them, so if I remember what outfits I put them in I can tell very easily.



Devon has learned how to kiss.



He has two very available subjects on which to bestow his affection. It's very photogenic. Up until now, a request for a kiss has been met with a giant wet lick that starts at your chin and stops at eyebrow level.



I'm so glad he's happy to be their big brother.



Just like I'm happy to be their mom. I know some women tell their kids in great detail the pain they endured bringing them into the world, especially when the kids aren't acting their best. When those moments come, I hope I have the strength to clench my teeth again and just let the moment pass. I don't mean to sound trite, but the pain really is worth it.

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