The weaning - for real this time

A couple months ago, I wrote about night-weaning Sofia.  It wasn't pretty and I still stand by my statement that you shouldn't wean unless you have to, because it sucks big time.  We were successful and for a minute there, Sofia was sleeping through the night and life was good. 

Unfortunately, a couple weeks ago Sofia was in the hospital and that completely erased all progress we'd made on the sleep front.  I slept with her for three nights - just three!  But that was enough to mess everything up, and suddenly she forgot how to sleep by herself in her crib.  It was taking nearly two hours to put her to bed and we felt like we'd been shoved back behind the starting line.

I never drank coffee until now.

I need it in the afternoons when I start walking into walls.

And if you'll also remember, Drew and I are trying to kickstart my asshole uterus and trick it into giving us another baby.  I looked up the fertility doctors and as it happened, our appointment was the Monday after we got out of the hospital.  We met with the doctor and got ready for the mountain of testing that comes when you have an asshole uterus.

The Doctor:  So yeah, we'll have to drain you of about half of your blood to figure out what's wrong with you, but I'll totally be able to get you knocked the fuck up.

*That's how he sounded in my head.  In real life, he was sweet and kinda nerdy.*

Me:  Cool.  When are we getting this party started?

The Doctor:  When Aunt Flo shows up, let us know.  Is there anything else going on in your life?

Me:  Well, I'm still nursing but that's no big thing right?

The Doctor: SCREEEEEEEEAAAAAATCH *that's him dropping his pen, record scratch, jaw on the floor*

Apparently, when you have an asshole uterus, it will use any excuse not to house a baby, and my asshole uterus is playing the hormone card.  Like an asshole.  Apparently, nursing makes me send out the 'none shall pass' signal and that's probably playing a big part in why I'm not getting pregnant.

At first, I called bullshit because you read all the time about women getting pregnant while breastfeeding so my nursing shouldn't have anything to do with it.  HOWEVER, my asshole uterus is all like 'You're still breastfeeding!  Loophole!  NaaNaa!'

Then I asked the $64,000 question:  Exactly how am I supposed to completely wean?  

At this stage, there is no other option but cold turkey.  She doesn't need it for nourishment and she doesn't understand being able to have it sometimes, but not other times.  Plus, if I'm to get my hormones back in order and give my uterus a good smackdown and get it to hold a baby, I have to wean 100%.  And since I'm old, I don't have the luxury of going home to think about it, to weigh the pros and cons, and let's be honest, procrastinate.  

Nursing is my go-to move.  Whenever Sofia is sad, bored, hurt, fussy, tired or just wants to be near me, I whip out the boob.  There were definitely times that it wore on me, and I was getting tired of her undoing my bra and pulling my boob out anytime I sat down anywhere, but I was scared to give it up.  But Dr. Sweetnerd left us no other choice - he wasn't going to do anymore testing until I weaned because the results wouldn't be accurate anyway.  They cautioned us against saying things like "You're a big girl now" or "You're not a baby anymore" and simply said to distract, distract, distract.  Awesome.

That's how we came to wean cold turkey on Monday afternoon, the week of her birthday party.  No pressure.  No stress.  HA.

No sooner did we walk in the door than Sofia was like "Nursing!!"  I intercepted her little hand as it was going for my bra and said "Baby, we don't do that anymore.  Here, let's have some water!"

That was a mother-effin JOKE.  She looked at me like I'd grown another head and got louder and more insistent.  "Mommy.  Nursing."   Like, 'don't play with me woman.'

She was not amused.

As much as I didn't want to, we bought some pacis in an effort to ease her through the transition.  Miraculously, I was able to put her down for a nap that first day by simply holding her while she sucked on the paci.  Of course, that night she'd gotten wise to the game and it took two hours to get her down because she quickly realized the paci had no milk in it.  We made it through the first night with much screaming and crying and me feeling like a terrible person for forcing such a drastic change on her.

Tuesday night wasn't much different.  Screaming, crying, holding, rocking and finally sleeping.  I also had to pump, because going cold turkey means your body can't stop making milk on a dime.

That's the last of it.

That's the other reason you shouldn't go cold turkey - the mom needs to adjust too.  Because just like that, our nursing relationship was over.  No ceremony, no real time to prepare - it was just done.  I was grateful to have my body back, but it was definitely bittersweet.  I put the larger amount in a sippy cup and gave it to Sofia the next morning, but I froze the smaller amount and I'm debating the merits of a breastmilk pendant.

What do y'all think?  Is it weird?

I just feel like I want something to commemorate this time,

like it shouldn't be over without some tangible reminder of what we've done.

Then again, it's my breastmilk on a necklace, so I'm not sure.

Oh yeah!  Here's something no one told me:  On the seventh day, my hormones completely bottomed out.  I'm talking, laying on the floor in Sofia's room crying.  Calling Drew and biting his head off because he sighed too loud when Sofia wouldn't sleep so obviously he's not ready for another child, there's no way I'm having another kid, so why the hell are we bothering to wean in the first place everything in the whole wide world suuuuuccckksss!!!!!

The next morning, I was all kinds of sheepish.  "I'm sooorry babe.  We can have another kid.  I'm sorry for yelling at you.  I hate my hormones; are you sure you want to do this?  I'm not even pregnant yet!"  My husband is not perfect but man, he gets major points for handling my crazy because I get scary when I get hormonal.

So yeah, it hasn't been pretty.  The night before her party, it took Sofia two hours to finally get to sleep, but the good news is, she doesn't need the paci anymore.  She only used it a couple of nights and then she was like No chupie!  Unfortunately, at bedtime she wants us to sit in the chair and hold her in our lap, covered with a blanket until she falls asleep.  If we try and get up and she's not asleep yet, settle in buddy.  You're in for a long night.

I have no idea how long weaning takes and I figure as long as she's asking for nursing, she's not weaned yet.  And I know that holding her in the chair until she falls asleep is just exchanging one crutch for another, but cold turkey weaning and crying it out is more than I want to put her through right now.  I may be singing a different tune in a month but for now, this is how we're making it work.

Once I've gone four weeks without nursing, the doctors will resume testing and we'll get this show on the road.  As for Sofia, she's doing better each day.  She's only asked for it once today and a gentle redirect usually does the trick.  I offer her water, a snack pouch, we go outside, or we go to the playroom and she seems to get the message.  I give her lots of hugs and kisses and we cuddle all the time so she doesn't feel the loss as much.  She's still not back to sleeping through the night, but I'm confident that she'll get back to it.  This transition isn't easy on her and she's been handling it like a champ.

On the other hand, I've had to resist the temptation to nurse because I didn't know that last time was going to be our last time.  I know our relationship is growing and evolving and is only going to get better, and as challenging as nursing was at times, I'm still coming to grips with the fact that it's over.  That was the last thing that only I could do for her, and for better or worse, it's gone now.

Wean Me Gently

by Cathy Cardall

I know I look so big to you, 

Maybe I seem too big for the needs I have. 

But no matter how big we get, 

We still have needs that are important to us. 

I know that our relationship is growing and changing, 

But I still need you. 

I need your warmth and closeness, 

Especially at the end of the day 

When we snuggle up in bed. 

Please don't get too busy for us to nurse. 

I know you think I can be patient, 

Or find something to take the place of a nursing; 

A book, a glass of something, 

But nothing can take your place when I need you. 

Sometimes just cuddling with you, 

Having you near me is enough. 

I guess I am growing and becoming independent, 

But please be there. 

This bond we have is so strong and so important to me, 

Please don't break it abruptly. 

Wean me gently, 

Because I am your mother, 

And my heart is tender.

Excuse me, ah, I *ahem* have something *sniffsniff* in my eye...

Anatomy of a birthday

Sorry I've been MIA, y'all.  A week in the hospital followed by a week of party planning followed by said party can really take it out of you.  Oh yeah, and let's throw some cold-turkey weaning right into the middle of that little swirling vortex of chaos to make it really fun.  But we'll talk about that later.  I put up a really bitchy woe-is-me post but I deleted it, because I need to focus on the happy, and what's happier than Sofia's birthday party!  Nothing I tell you, nothing.  So let's recap before she turns three, shall we?

I got her invitations from Melissa at Sleeping Owl Creations

and was so happy with the way they turned out!

I put them on some cardstock to beef them up and dropped them in the mail!

Originally, Sofia's birthday party was supposed to be April 6th, but she got out of the hospital on the 5th, so that wasn't going to happen.  Even though she was pretty much back to normal when they discharged us, we all needed time to settle back in, so I pushed it back a week to the 13th.  My mom had arrived on the 5th and was going to stay until the 14th, and it was really important that she get to be there for her grandbaby's birthday.  I thought an extra week to plan would help with the stress, but of course we had to start weaning that week, so yeah, there was much stress.  But that's a whole different post.

Sofia's actual birthday was the 11th, and just the four of us had a little party.  I made a small cake and like the true procrastinator that I am, I got a tin of Betty Crocker frosting and a generic candle from Rite Aid when I went to pick up the pizza we ordered for dinner (which wasn't Domino's.  It was from the 'authentic' Italian place in town and it was still disgusting.  Guess I'll be making my own pizza from now on...)

The good news is, Sofia didn't mind one little bit.  Please excuse my ridiculous high-pitched mom voice.

Ironically, Sofia doesn't have much of a sweet tooth,

 but she was digging the chocolate frosting.

Tearing into her present from Mommy and Daddy.

At first, she was really delicate with it.

Then she started getting all Jerry Lee Lewis with it.

Butts and feet are just as good as hands on a piano, don't you know.

It was a nice, chill evening with just family but soon enough it was time for the big show.

I told myself that this year, I wasn't going to go overboard.  I told myself that I'd keep it small and simple, that I wouldn't stress out.

Yeah.  Right.

I went to Party City and lost my mind.  I snatched up everything they had in the rainbow Gabba colors.  They had a small selection of Gabba party supplies and I cleaned it out.  I walked out of there loaded down with everything rainbow and Gabba.  My house looked like Gabba exploded in it and I loved it.

I bought some foamcore and cut out a number 2 with an exacto knife.

My mom dyed the coffee filters and glued them on the board and I loved how it turned out.

You know I have to have my ombre somewhere, and I've decided that every birthday

from now on has to have some ombre element.

Sofia loved the backdrop.  She was running up and slapping each character, going

"This! Muno!  This! Plex!  This! Toodee!  This! Brobee!"

There was a ton of food.  We had subs, meatballs, fruit salad, veggie cups, beet chips, goldfish, cupcakes and cake.  We've been eating subs and meatballs all this week.

Look!  A tutu cake!

We got regular plates and cups from Ikea so we wouldn't go too crazy with the Gabba theme.

We also swagged the cheap tablecloths from the chandelier and put balloons at the corner but it was hard to get a good shot of them.

You can sort of see it here.

You get the idea, right?

I even got some DJ Lance glasses so everyone could put them on and get their pictures in front of the backdrop.

Take 1

Take 2

Take 3.  Well, it was a good idea, anyway.

Then we took the party outside for some bubble blowing time.

It was definitely a high point for Sofia and Gracie.

After that, the party moved to the playroom for the cake.

I will completely admit that I corralled everyone downstairs solely because we 

decorated and I wanted everyone to appreciate Drew's and my mom's hard work.

This party would not have happened without my mom's help.

She and Drew worked so hard to bring my vision to life.

How awesome is my mom in her DJ Lance glasses!

I tried to color the cake with raspberries but it came out gray, so I caved and put a few drops of pink food coloring.  I was sad because the cake didn't turn out as well as I would've liked, but because I have awesome friends, no one said a word.  

Besides, Sofia just liked blowing out the candle.

And I'm totally due for a playroom update because this table is new, 

along with lots of other stuff!

Sofia and Carter gettin' down on the karaoke machine.

"When I say Hey, you say Ho! Hey! Ho!"

You have to use your imagination but right here, Sofia was singing

Biz' birthday song and it was HILARIOUS.

The party was two hours long and that was perfect.  We had a lot of fun and everything went off without a hitch.  I wasn't able to get pictures of everyone in their glasses in front of the backdrop, but that's ok.

I had a vision of getting a picture of all the kids in their glasses, 

but this was the best I could do.  Babies don't understand vision.

Everyone got their own t-shirt as a party favor.

The onesies were my favorites.

After everyone left, we started opening presents.

Sofia is one lucky little girl, I tell you what.

I mean, Grandma got her some Sperrys!

I'm nowhere near cool enough to pull off Sperrys and my kid does it with ease.

It was an amazing day and Sofia had a blast.  However, if we're being completely honest here, I'm glad it's over.  As much as I want to just do things small, when it comes to Sofia and celebrating the day she was born, small just isn't in my vocabulary.  The day she came into our lives is no small day and I just can't celebrate it in a small way.  And yes, I know Sofia could care less about a tablecloth canopy or streamers or even cake, but I just can't see having a birthday party without all that.

That's why I'm not even bothering to make promises about next year.  She's my baby, she always will be and there aren't enough balloons, cake, or streamers in the world to match how happy she makes me.  So even though I was up until two in the morning hanging things and making beet chips thirty minutes before the guests came, I'd do it all again.

I'm just glad I have a year to recover.

Happy Birthday Sofia.  You're my best gift and I love you.

Moms rock

Sofia's official diagnosis was rotoviral gastroenteritis.  That's fancy doctor-speak for horrible terrible stomach bug caused by rotovirus.  It causes vomiting and diarrhea, lasts longer than 24 hours and can land you in the hospital.  It is not to be confused with norovirus, which will knock your ass out, but usually only for one day.  

Sofia got both of these viruses, poor kid.  

It started with general fussiness.  The vomiting came soon after, accompanied by extreme sleepiness and lethargy when awake.  About 12 hours after the vomiting started, the diarrhea came.  We went to the doctor at 10am, and they said she wasn't dehydrated.  By 9pm that night, she had become dangerously dehydrated, even though she was still producing tears, her skin wasn't dry and papery and her cheeks never got flushed.  She also never ran a fever over 100 degrees.

I'm telling you all of this just in case it happens to you.  This was one of the scariest times of my life and if any information I can give will get you to the doctor just a couple hours sooner, that works for me.  Having a kid in the hospital, no matter how old they are, is pretty much the worst thing ever.

However, we made it through and Sofia is back to normal.

When they admitted Sofia to the hospital, we obviously didn't know how long we were going to have to stay.  I figured an overnight stay would be enough to fix whatever was wrong and we'd be on our way.  And since we were in isolation, I spent a lot of time taking pictures and updating Facebook.  I really can't even hate on Facebook anymore - yeah, there's drama and people get stupid way too often, but it was my lifeline while we were in the hospital.  I posted pictures and updates and having people comment that they were thinking of us really kept me going.

I'm in a couple of moms groups here and I've become good friends with a couple of moms and very casual acquaintances with others.  Reading is a small-ish city so there's lots of overlap, so you'll see the same moms dropping their kids off at mom's morning out and going to swim lessons and playdates.  I'm still the new kid, so I smile and nod and try to make small talk when I'm at the playdates.

Since I'm new in town, I certainly wasn't expecting any visitors while we were in the hospital.  So I nearly fell out of my chair when a mom who barely knew me sent me a text message that she wanted to come by with a care package for us.  Our daughters go to mom's morning out on the same day, so we smile and say hello as we pick up our kids.  I'd been to her house for playdates a couple of times but there was always a ton of people there, so it's not like we became BFFs or anything.

I teared up and thanked her like crazy for even thinking of us, saying to please not go out of her way but yes please, come on up.  I honestly didn't mind being in isolation because it was like a little cocoon for Sofia and me.  No dog to walk, no house to clean, no cooking.  I was able to focus my entire being on my daughter and it was kind of nice.  Minus the part where we were in a hospital because she was so sick, of course.  And I wished there were snacks because I couldn't exactly leave and grab something from the cafeteria when I had the munchies.

And once Sofia started feeling better and started climbing the walls, it stopped being sweet and fun.  At one point she pulled the IV pole with her arm, disconnected the tube from the bag and separated the two parts of the machine itself.  Alarms were going off, her fluids were spraying everywhere and she was like "What happened, Mommy?"  "Baby, your IV came apart.  You can't get that far from your machine." "Oh. I so sorry."  And then she tried to pull it out of her arm.  Good thing I just colored my hair because I got a ton more grays last week.

That section on the right where the tube is?

It comes off the main part if you pull hard enough.  

Or if you have a determined toddler on the other end of the tube and the wheel

of the pole gets stuck on a chair leg, and you're not quicker than said 

determined toddler.

The chick wanted to go walking and she was going with or without me!

But anyway, this mom who I'd said maybe twenty words to since we met just a handful of months ago?  She left her two kids and her life to come see us in the hospital at dinnertime to bring Sofia a puzzle, some stickers and crayons and a fuzzy flower.  

This flower is getting a place of honor in the playroom.

She even brought me some dried fruit and nuts which was a lifesaver!  We chatted for longer than we ever have and I got all teary-eyed when I thanked her over and over again for taking time out of her life to do such a kind deed.  People have done nice things for me before, but never a near stranger.  And to leave her kids at dinnertime to come see us?  No lie, I rarely leave my house after 5:30 because evenings are just too hectic and if the nighttime routine gets thrown off by even a few minutes, there's always hell to pay.  So when she walked in at 6:45, I was literally in awe.

Not to mention the other friends that sent along flowers and another stuffed animal for Sofia.

This is Sofia's friend Gracie.

They were having a girls lunch.

Y'all already know Carter.

When I told her the flowers and puppy were from Gracie and Carter, she 

was like "See Gracie?  See Carter?"

Sofia loves her some Gracie and Carter.

I was so humbled at the outpouring of love for my baby.  When you have a sick kid, the moms of the world just mobilize.  Even if it's just to say a prayer for you, it happens and you can feel it.  There's this unity, this camaraderie that transcends whatever level of friendship you happen to have.  It's a really cool part of being a mom and I hadn't experienced that until this point.  Hopefully, we won't have another hospital stay for a very long time and hopefully I too can mobilize when I get the call.

Being a mom is hard work with nearly no time off.  As Sofia gets older, I get tested more frequently and it's trickier each day to remain one step ahead of her.

But also?  I've never been prouder to be a part of such an elite and awesome group.  

It's pretty much the best thing ever.

Home and healthy

We're healthy and we're home.  Thank you all so much for your thoughts and prayers, it meant the world to me and I'm so blessed to have people like you in my life.  Thank you for emailing, texting, commenting and just keeping us on your minds.  

.....................................

Easter Sunday night, Sofia was kind of fussy and whiny and she kept asking to go night-night.  It was only 6:30 and bedtime's not till 8, so I was trying to hold her off because I didn't want to mess up the sleep schedule.  We went down to the playroom to keep her occupied until it was time to go to bed, but she wasn't having it.  She only wanted to sit on the sofa with me and nurse.  I gave in and finally just let her nurse, and she fell asleep within minutes.  All the lights were on, she hadn't eaten much for dinner, she was still in her work clothes and I hadn't put her in her night diaper.  But what could I do but lay her down?  So I took her up to her crib around 7, convinced that she was going to wake up in an hour and I'd just change her then.

I knew something wasn't right, and I stayed up until two in the morning because I just knew that any minute she was going to wake up.  She coughed a couple times here and there but nothing that made me run into her room.  Finally, she woke up at 8 the next morning which is all kinds of not normal.  She called for me and I went into her room to get her.

The vomit smell hit me before I turned on the light and she was whimpering.  I turned the light on and the poor kid had vomited all over herself and her crib.  Some of it was wet, but some was dried and caked on her sheets.  It was in her hair and everything and my heart just broke for her.

I quickly got her naked and we got into the shower and after we got out, I went to clean her crib.

While I was cleaning her crib, she laid on the floor and fell fast asleep.

Then I started to worry.  Sofia is not a 'sleep anywhere' kind of kid and she never falls asleep without nursing.  I picked her up and put her in our bed and she slept for two hours!  When she finally woke up, the vomiting started again.  I'm sad to report our Harrison has seen better days.  When Sofia was awake, all she wanted to do was sit on the sofa, and there's not much you can do to protect yourself and your sofa from projectile vomit.  

Poor kid

Then I got super worried that it was the norovirus again.

Sofia vomited off and on all day Monday and that evening, she started having diarrhea.  Oh joy. I just did my best to keep her hydrated and I prayed that it was just a 24-hour bug.  She went to bed around 8 Monday night, and woke up at 2 in the morning with vomit and diarrhea all over her and her crib.  Again.  Dammit.

I cleaned her up and laid down with her in the guest room.  I draped us both in towels and flinched every time she coughed.  She woke for the day around 7, and I carried her with me while I brushed my teeth and got some water from the kitchen.  "Mommy, sit the sofa."  If you could have heard her pitiful little voice....

No sooner did I get us draped and sit down did she turn her head and projectile vomit on the uncovered part of the sofa.  I called the doctor.  While I was on hold, she vomited again.  They told me to give her a teaspoon of Pedialyte every 15 minutes and call them later.

I gave her one teaspoon and three minutes later, she vomited.  I called them back and told them I needed to bring her in.

At the doctor's office, they confirmed it was viral and that there wasn't a lot they could do.  I hate when doctors say that.  ALSO, it is possible to get norovirus more than once.  What The Hell?!  They sent us home and watch for wet diapers and go to the ER if she goes longer than 8 hours without a wet one.  However, just how am I supposed to tell if her diaper is wet when every diaper is just diarrhea??

Tuesday night, she went a few hours without pooping but her diaper was completely dry and she was so worn out from puking and pooping for over 24 hours.  A quick call to Drew's parents to confirm what we already knew, and we were packing up to head to the ER.  I tried to keep my cool so I wouldn't scare Sofia, but I was terrified.  She's so healthy, this couldn't be happening to my baby!  As we took our seats in the waiting area with all the other sick people, I hoped and prayed that this would just turn out to be a few wasted hours and we'd be back home in the morning.  

PS, changing a diarrhea diaper in an ER bathroom is not fun.  Just in case you were wondering.

We got to the ER around 8pm Tuesday night and we were finally brought back around 10:30.  A little after 11, they took us back for the CT scan. They had to put her in this plastic thing that held her still and upright and poor Sofia was not a fan.  It was past her bedtime, she was sick and in a strange place and she was not happy.

They gave her anti-nausea meds so the vomiting stopped but the diarrhea never did.  I ran out of her cloth diapers and started going through their disposables.  The poor kid pooped on everything in sight.

The CT came back clear, so then they had to draw blood.  Oooohhh, LAWD.  I got dizzy when they stuck that needle into my baby's arm, but I had to keep calm because I'm the mom.  That's just what you do, right.

Until they came back and were like, she's severely dehydrated.  That scared the shit out of me, because I was watching her!  She still had tears!  Her skin wasn't papery!  Yet, the tears came when they were throwing around words like dangerously low and the worst, IV fluids.

I started breathing deep and looking for a focal point when they told me the IV people were coming.  Drew very quietly was like, Maybe you should step outside.  I nodded once, handed Sofia to him and walked out, just as the IV people walked in.

There was no good place to be.  I stood outside crying, listening to Sofia scream and cry.  "Mommy!  Come in and hold me!  All done all done!  Mommy!  Hold me!!  Daddy!!  All done!!"

Yet, Drew was inside.  Looking at her face as she screamed.  Holding her down while they stuck her.  Unable to do anything.  Holy God, it sucked so bad.

I came back in, and he was wiping his tears and shaking his head.  "She's never going to forget that."  I didn't bother correcting him - *He* was never going to forget that.

A few minutes later, they came back and she was going to be admitted.  I nodded, crying.  My poor baby was so sick.

Babies aren't supposed to be sick.  

That's against some rule, I'm sure of it.

Drew updated my Facebook for me.

That started our first hospital stay.  One of her gazillion stool samples came back positive for rotovirus, so that meant we were in isolation.  No leaving the room for anything.  There's not a lot you can do when you're in isolation, but watch a lot of tv and take lots of pictures. 

We slept together on the pull-out cots.

They wanted me to leave her in the hospital crib.  Alone.

AS IF.

We watched much Gabba.

Keeping her comfortable, making the best of this.

We got to our room early Tuesday morning, and by Wednesday she was much better.  The vomiting had stopped but not her booty faucet.  Bless her heart, we were changing diapers every twenty minutes.  Her potassium level dropped too low, so they switched out the bag for potassium-raising fluids.  We got to be frenemies with the IV pole.

The bane of my existence.

Sofia is right-handed and they put the IV in her right arm.  Additionally, despite the board they put on her, she could still bend and every time she bent her arm, the IV would kink and the alarm would go off.  I'd have to call the nurse, they'd come in to straighten her arm, reset the machine, only to come back in ten minutes to do it all over, because YOU try telling a two year old to keep their dominant hand still and straight.  Day and night, it seemed like that damn alarm went off every frickin five minutes.

One of the millions of times they had to check her IV.

Wednesday afternoon was the first time she was up and about.

I was never happier to see that beautiful face.

Thursday morning, she felt well enough to make funny faces with DJ Lance.

"Wow, that's a funny face!"

We even had a visitor and I'm so touched and humbled 

about that, I'm doing a separate post.

But this little flower was from our visitor.

By Friday morning, we'd given up on pants because they

just kept getting pooped on.

But she was feeling much better, and back to her old 

'dump Mommy's purse on the floor' tricks.

By noon on Friday, her potassium levels were finally back to normal, the pooping had pretty much stopped, so they disconnected the IV.  Woohoo!

My mom had arrived in town, and she got some more presents from my friends.

This time it was an awesome stuffed puppy.

Also, how cute is this bouquet?!

This smile.

On Friday afternoon, three days after we arrived, we were finally able 

to put on our going-home clothes and get up out of there!

I was so thankful this ordeal was over.  I was so scared for my baby and I was beyond thankful that our hospital stay was short.  I said a little prayer for the parents who have to make hospitals their second home.  I have more words to say about this experience, but this post is super long as it is.  If you can bear with me, I have only one more post about this and then we'll get back to normal.  But I kinda need to process, you know?

But again, thank you all so much for thinking of us, praying for us and just remembering us.  You're good and wonderful people.  Thank you.