Home.

Home. Home is where you want to be when you feel like crap. Remember when you were a kid? When you'd get sick and stay home from school. You felt the whole world going on about its business outside your bedroom window. But on the other side of that window, the inside life was different for that day. If for no one else but you and your mother the day was different. Your fever, your cough, your ear ache or whatever it was rewrote the script for you two that day. Remember that feeling of the way your momma brushed your hair over your ears, wiped your tears, whispered I am so sorry. Then you'd look up seeing in her eyes she was holding back tears too, seeing in her eyes she truly wished she could take it away. Even the soup momma brought me when I was sick tasted different. These are all feelings of home for me. Home will always be your mommas hug, your momma's looks when you are hurting. Doesn't matter if your two, ten, or almost thirty. Doesn't matter if she's the mother that gave birth to you, or helped raise you. You know it when you hug her. You know it when she puts her fingers through your hair. When she gives you that look before she kisses your forehead, and now that you've had your own babies you know says "where did the time go?" and as she backs away you feel her heart plead with yours to just "slow down". Those are all feelings I crave when I am hurting, in pain, or just plain sad. The house I grew up in has a different phone number, different people and probably a little girl sleeping in my old bedroom. There were different dogs in the yard the last time I rode by. The new people cut down the big tree in the front yard. The one I had my first kiss under. The front porch steps are the same. I used to paint my toenails on those steps. I cried many times on those steps not understanding life and fearing I never would. That house, that home, made me who I am. Every day, every memory, every dream, every lesson I learned under that roof shaped me to be the woman I am today, the mother I am, the sister I am, the friend I am. It taught me so much. So much I wouldn't even be able to comprehend for years. So much I am still unraveling even today. Sometimes when I feel like I do right now I just wish I could walk through it, hear that old squeak in the hall near the furnace, or hear the furnace fire up one last time, slam the door to my old bedroom again. I foolishly feel sometimes like a strong dose of home will just make it all better. I think I will just walk up to the door and the humidity will be there on the storm door telling me that maw-maw's just pulled the cornbread out of the oven and that dinners on the stove and there is a little tea left but a fresh pot on the back eye of the stove to pour up if its too sweet or I need more...Momma will be there waiting to play with my hair until the pain is defeated by her comforting touch and I finally fall asleep. Sometimes you just want your momma and home even if you are almost thirty and have an address all of your own. Even if she's got a new one too.

That little sweet stinker :)

Today we took another trip to the Nestled Newborn. Today we once again witnessed the littlest monkey hide his face. The above picture is the best we could get. I'll be headed back one more time Tuesday morning to try and catch one last peek of this little sweethearts face. I enjoyed as usual just seeing him and watching his antics. Learning more about his personality. The boy is consistent if nothing else. Here is what I have learned about Madden;

He is sweet as molasses.

He is beautiful, and whenever I see a glimpse of his precious face I don't notice anything else in the world. I feel like my heart starts to speak to him and suddenly I just feel this feeling, and feel provoked to say something profound but can't even mutter a word. Maybe this is what it's like to truly be in awe. I think so.

He has a cute nose.

I swear he has my lips. His bottom is full and the sides of the tops are too which is a distinction between mine and his daddy's.

He loves to snuggle like Prestlee

I bet he loves blankie like his big brother Henley. He hangs onto his cord like the corner of a satin blankie.

He LOVES to suck, hands, arms, cord and tries furiously to get anything and everything in his mouth. I am fairly sure he'll love to nurse and be good at it right off the bat.

He is active like Henley but calms to snuggle and settle like Prestlee.

Madden throws his head and arches when he gets frustrated with things not going in his mouth. I hope he isn't a screamer like Prestlee was.

I love him more than I thought was imaginable.

I never thought you could love three little boys as much as I love these.

I never thought a heart could hold this much without exploding.

Love for your children is more powerful than any other force, feeling, emotion I have ever experienced.

Love is amazing.

Love is incredible.

Loving your babies, your children as they grow in you and out, is all consuming and stretches far and wide beyond the edges and seams of our hearts.

Love IS really all you need...

xoxo

Today is Friday.

What more can I say. I had Dr. P, aka Dr. Spidey. Ahh. I'm in bed. Been in bed. Will be in bed until today is over and tomorrow comes. I feel horrible. The pain is really bad and agitated further by the sweet little baby kicking and punching my kidney like he's in a furious Billy Blanks Tae-Bo workout. Going to close my eyes chanting my bad day mantra...."today I don't ever have to do again"....except I know in six more I will....just not May 7th 2010...it's just really number swapping next week will be the 14th. I am in a foul, whiny, self pity, cry my self to sleep kind of mood. Goodnight. At least tomorrow ain't Friday again right?

mark your calendars....

Mark your calendars....with a pencil that is. At thirty-five weeks pregnant I will have an amniocentesis to check Maddens lungs for maturity. If his lungs are mature then guess who's gonna have a labor day?? Uh, ME!!! Thirty-five weeks pregnant happens to fall on Thursday, June 24th 2010. I happen to hope they pull the plug the next day. If he isn't ready then likely they take him the following week. This of course is all hoping and assuming I cross my legs really tight, my uterus quits rebelling and he doesn't make his debut before. I love to have a plan. I see the light at the end of the tunnel. Fifty days. Seven weeks. Or there about. I can handle that. Right?? Let the countdown begin. 50 days to go until said plan has a "date" or is it now 49 & 3/4ths? :-)

OMG!!

Wednesday this week I had the repeat appointment to see little Madden again and try to get the ever elusive boy to show his sweet face sans arms, ankles and hands. That's a whole other post which I will promptly write about in a second. This one is dedicated to a certain lady who will remain nameless and unidentified ONLY because I don't have her name and photo. You can bet your sweet baby's bottom I'd post her picture faster than you can slap a tick. Had I had my sarcastic wits about me and my momma's smart you know what genes on in full force as I am known for, she'd been in a heap of junk. But, I had just stared endlessly at my sweet baby and was in a maternal lovey dovey state of mind. Lucky her. Anyhoo- onto the point of the post; I went to Panera for a quick bite with Katie after the scan which is three doors down. Just before we walk in I ask her if I look like I am 1.) dying or 2.) did my picc line look like I am super sickly and offensive/gross. For your information you should know, that she replied def not dying and it did NOT look offensive. As you might imagine I am fairly self-conscious about my tubes, and esp if any parts of either show. News flash: We are in Georgia, it's humid, it's hot. I had on short sleeves so the picc line ports, both of them dangling from my arm in plain sight. Well we order our food and walking with our drinks to the fountains then to a table which Katie was already walking toward as I went to grab hot sleeves for our cups (I hate touching cold cups, its a weird thing I have so I put hot sleeves on my cold drinks too). As I am walking back towards a table two woman are walking towards me pushing babies, and just as I am close enough to TOUCH one on the face if I wanted- one of them says to her I assume bff: " OMG!! Is that a feeding tube in her arm" in what I predict was her most disgusting tone. My reaction, for those who know me well and are grabbing their chins in oh my goodness what on earth did you do/say Breann?? I didn't say anything, my jaw dropped, my head tilted and I looked her dead in the eye and then I walked off shaking. About to cry. About to lose it. About to turn around and tell her exactly what that was in my arm, and then slap her with the hand attached to my "feeding tube". Or grab her and tell her to be thankful she was healthy enough to push a baby stroller, or had a healthy looking baby in that stroller (who btw needed a haircut and had a face only his mother could love, I thought about telling her that too, but thats just mean!!) and thank goodness it was me and not her with this tube in my back, and in my arm carrying this precious baby boy in my belly. Whoever you are "Mean Panera Woman" I don't like you and I am sad for your children that they have you as a mother. I bet your raising bullies and brats with a mouth like that. There. I have words too and I always try to make mine matter and make them fair. And FYI- mean lady- THIS my dear is what a feeding tube looks like....doesn't go anywhere near your arm.

**Editing to include an important side note that Katie, being the awesome friend she is, offered

and had an extremely difficult time restraining herself from inflicting bodily harm against the

"mean panera woman". Thanks girlie for sticking up for me, and being willing to go to jail for me

and my "tubes" :) love ya!!

Take Three-

Today I attempted to see our littlest son again, for the third time. For the third time this little stinker hid his face behind his cord, arms, hands, and at one point a foot. I brought home a cute little picture of the side of his head above his right ear of some hair. He has hair. I was so overjoyed with the fact my boy has hair above his right ear!! I also got a 17 minute dvd of him hiding his face and playing with his hands and feet. He was sticking his tongue in and out and doing super cute things with his mouth. He is precious and I think its so sweet he has such a personality in the belly. I can't wait to see you little Madden. If you don't mind, Saturday around 2, mommy is gonna try again to see your face again. All of it. Without the arms, hands, and feet. If you don't cooperate don't worry that I'll be disappointed. I won't be. I'm excited to have seen you as much as I have and will be excited for every chance I get. I can wait to see you on birth day if that's what your holding out for. I'm happy with the partial face picture and the cute hair picture. I still wonder if its gonna be brownish?

Can I get a woo-hooo!!

Or perhaps maybe just a follower or two or three? Not that it matters or will make a difference in when I write or what I write. Just wondering if anyone out there reads my words?

I think he has brownish hair....

I keep dreaming about Madden. The dream goes the same pretty much every time. I have him up on my shoulder feeling his sweet baby breath on the crook of my neck. I am patting and rocking him waiting for a burp but instead get what I call a "ten-mile-sigh". You mama's out there know exactly what I'm talking about. Its the moment your new little one takes a series of deep breaths followed by a sigh and you know they-are-totally-asleep. I'm talking milk coma. Change a diaper and they don't even notice asleep. When my babies do the ten-mile-sigh and slip into their milk comas I have an instant reaction to kiss them behind their heads towards the back of their necks and just hold my kiss a second to smell them. I hang on to these moments like my last breath because I know they go far to fast and are far too few. Madden in my dreams has dark blonde hair, its almost brown. The dream feels so real I can almost feel his hair tickle my nose. I wake up feeling overwhelmed with a happiness and love that newborns bring and eyes full of tears and a heart full of hope and dreams of memories to be made.

When the rain is blowing in your face...

I can offer you a warm embrace to make you feel my love...

when there is no one to dry your tears...

I could hold you for a million years...

I saw Madden Andrew for two hours today. Two whole hours of incredible happiness to this mommy's heart. Two whole hours I needed like I didn't even know. I saw his face, his precious face. One of three tiny faces I have ever looked at and knew and recognized from my eyes to my heart, even though I had never saw it before. A face I saw and it felt like I had known it all along. Even though I have dreamed night after night of what he might look like, who he might look like, and prayed would be at the very least cute. He is every lovely adjective you've ever heard a baby described as. Precious, Beautiful, Breath taking, Gorgeous. All of that wrapped into one sweet little baby boy who is mine. My third son. The third time I have struck gold and made a beautiful little baby. I have never, ever saw any of my babies face until they were placed on my chest. This was a first. Awesome. I think that sweet little nose and his perfect little lips are etched on the back of my eyelids. I brought home 45 minutes of my little-est monkey on a dvd and the most precious picture of him. I can not wait to kiss him, smell his sweet scent and whisper I love you to him a hundred times...

Meet My Sweet Madden

I'd go hungry, I'd go blind for you...

There ain't nothing that I wouldn't do, go to the ends of the earth for you...

To make you feel my love...

To make you feel my...

Love

I love you my baby boy, all of you, each of you. dearly.

Official Food, Inc. Movie Site - Hungry For Change?

Official Food, Inc. Movie Site - Hungry For Change?

on a side note. not kidney related. you should know.

There is something you have to know if you don't already. you should, no, you HAVE to watch. really, if you've ever ate a piece of chicken or steak or any meat what so ever, you just have to see this. You owe it to every bite you've ever tasted of meat, vegetables, fruits or a cob of corn to know where your food is coming from.

Don't put it on your 'to-do' list. just do it. watch. now. please. its available streaming on netflix- or dvd or straight from their website. It's a must SEE NOW :)

http://foodincmovie.com/

What they don't tell you....

This post is probably better suited for those of us who have the unfortunate circumstances of a nephrostomy tube than those of you who don't. If you have a weak stomach or throw up easily you better stop here. I am warning you. For real. Okay, for those of you still reading. Here are the things they DON'T tell you when you get a nephrostomy tube.

1. for the first few days you will look like you have a bag of whole blood strapped to your leg transfusing through the kidney via your way cool (nasty) leg bag.

2. Beyond the first 3-4 days your pee clears up to deep cranberry color with LARGE and I do mean LARGE chunks of kidney floating amongst the massive clots.

3. Your pee never quite returns to normal with the tube in place.

4. It absolutely does not feel like a 'ear ring' being changed when having the tube replaced. Immediately refrain from slapping the person who tries to fill you with this LIE! If you don't refrain, you can always fall back on a lapse in judgement due to the severe pain and TUBE STABBING IN YOUR BACK!!

5. The tube does feel better in place to relieve the pressure and in my experience (5 stents total- the nephrostomy is a MILLION times better than an evil stent.

6. Anything and everything that I was never told would happen (which was hardly anything at all) happens and when I have asked have been told "that can be normal" which has lead me to the conclusion that there is no normal with having a nephrostomy tube and that by and large nephrostomy's are not normal and therefore have no semblance of normal what so ever. The faster you deal with it the faster the panic subsides of passing large chunks of your kidney and clots and whatever the heck the white wormy strings are?

7. Kidneys that are sick pass 'junk' and 'crap' non stop. its nasty and disgusting.

8. There is NOTHING cute about pee strapped to your leg. But, dresses can be cute and cover the pee bag strapped to your leg quite nicely and its a great excuse for a new dress ;)

9. Punching a whole in the wall out of fear, panic, pain and frustration does NOT make your nephrostomy any easier to deal with nor does it disappear. Nor does it mean you have anger management issues. I think any adverse reaction to having a tube stuck in an organ and being sent on your merry way with a 'good luck, hope you feel better' is completely rationale. I'll be happy to stick a tube in your kidney if you disagree, and we'll go from there. Enough said. uh huh.

10. It becomes second nature to have in place regardless of what you think the day it goes in. Even the discomfort and pain become something you just deal with and expect daily.

11. Some people block tubes faster than others, some WAAAAAY faster than others. Some people like me.

12. A blocked tube can feel like NO tube at all. Kidney's must have lots of nerves because they HURT bad when they swell/block up. Horribly so.

13. I was ready to have the tube OUT the day I had it put in but I want my baby in and not out so the tube stays so the baby stays. its a symbiotic relationship. a contract with mother nature if you will. its a crappy one but it works. as dr. phil would say "how's that workin for ya?" very well thank you when you get right down to it so we do what works. and so it goes, i have a tube in my back stick'n in my kidney and a baby in my uterus named Madden. Go me, GO!!! (really I am thankful for the arrangement. Really. I may be sarcastic and bitter at times but I know when to count my blessings and I count this one a whole heck of a lot.)

14. Most of the time I don't hate it as much as I think it do. But I still don't like it. Yea, I do hate it. But, its better than an exploded kidney.

15. I hate my kidney and I love it. We have a love hate thing going on. We forgive and forget. The next dose of forgive and forget is coming up some time at the middle or end of June.

Well...Well ...Web....

So, last night when getting up at 2:30 am to disconnect my bag of fluids & hep lock my picc line I sit up I feel a burn & a pop. I am in dire need of peeling off the patch to discover what the heck is going on with under there. I had been having some increasing pain last night but that can be normal. Burning, popping, and all that not normal. I peel back the stupid patch and I discover two things when I peel back the patch. A) I have popped a stitch while sitting up. This stitch was placed off to the side of my actual tube and was one of FIVE anchor spots. B) my surgeons mentor in his 'suturing' must have been spider man because the other four suture anchors are in a very neat little web spanning about 4 inches circling the pcn tube before anchoring into my back. NO wonder every time I move or sit, stand, deep breathe or sneeze (you know how many times I sneeze when I sneeze) it feels like I am pulling my tube from every angle. I AM!!!!!! Ugh. No doubt this little webbing stent was what I was awake enough to be trying to sit up and leave the OR which landed me aforementioned asian dude on my shoulders holding me down so Dr. Spidey could finish his evilness while I yelped in protest. Did I mention I am over this crap??

less is NOT more.

Me and a few pals met up at the same time and place every Friday morning around say seven thirty, in special ops OR2. Clark, Donna, Natasha, The Asian guy who half laughs at every thing and says WHOA wayyyy too much, and then there is the doctor, most of whom I really like and seem to really like me except for one I don't typically get but on the rare occasion. Well today was a rare occasion. This week had the unfortunate Dr. P. Oh, Dr. P and I didn't hit it off so well two years ago in the very same OR when he stuck a wire through & through my kidney on an accident, an accident that I was talked into going "without sedation or anesthesia" and unfortunately felt and witnessed in its full glory including his explicative, and then mine, when he realized I was FULLY awake. Let's just say I very much dislike him. He started to redeem himself by showing off his wicked awesome skills at putting in my PICC line super fast and flawlessly. The man has some finesse guiding catheters into ones heart (the picc line), unfortunately he follows with a dagger in the kidney and no finesse whatsoever in the renal department. My OB concerned with so many OR trips ahead had asked that the anesthesiologist use less of the drug (Versed) that puts you "under" and try it with more Morphine or Dilaudid. Well. She did. It didn't work. I'm wondering if Ms. Donna heard and got hung up on less drugs and just all the way across the board gave me less of everything, surely that had to be what happened. I woke up during the procedure in sheer pain having my kidney flushed and fooled with and then something else I couldn't identify (see Dr. Spidey/Well..Web post) Anyway it was awful and awful got worse when the Asian boy who gets on my nerves was laying across my shoulders holding me down and multiple people telling me it was almost over. It was most certainly not almost over. It seemed like it continued for eons more which I know it in fact did not. I was out of it enough to feel loopy but not enough to not feel the pain. Next week, I will threaten to inflict similar bodily pain to anyone who comes near me or Donna using words such as less, not as much, drugs, etc.

Getting Picc'd on.

Tomorrow I will be getting the PICC line when I get my tube replaced. I am actually relieved that I know its happening and really hopefully that some steady hydration will make a decent difference from feeling horrible to just plain bad. Hopefully I can manage on 6-8 hour hook-ups and be free the remainder of the time. That's my hope anyway. A girl can dream a little right?

so I lost my pound.

my one pound. the only pound I had. I guess I threw that up too. Gosh. I saw Lisa, the worlds best midwife, today who informed me of my tragic loss of the beloved pound. I worked hard for it, I did. You have no idea how strategic I have been to gain it and there it goes justlikethat. I am so incredibly sick of throwing up. my throat just burns and burns and besides that its not fun to throw up. its gross. its nasty. i hate it. Lisa agreed that the throwing up has got to curb to get some weight on me. She didn't seem too terribly concerned that lil madden wasn't getting what he needs but did order a visit with my Perinatologist, Dr Allen for a growth check for the bubs and cervical length scan. I was scheduled for two weeks later and I may still go again then, she said he'd probably start seeing me more frequently now because of the whole kidney crap (radiation, OR drugs and contractions). She also set up the picc line and home health care, and changed my zofran from tablets to orally dissolving tablets. Sometimes I can't even hold down the zofran tablets so the odt's should solve that and if not we'll start on the zofran pump into my 2nd picc port. I'm sure BCBS hates me and they can rest assured the feeling is quiet mutual. I feel slightly vindicated though that those stupidly high premiums we've paid into them and never use the insurance unless I am pregnant and BOY does it get used then. Anyway, the picc line & running fluids at home will help with some of the kidney pain that I get when dehydrated and contractions from getting dehydrated too. Another big plus of the picc line is that there will be NO MORE IV sticks, everything can run through the picc and even labs can be drawn right out too with no needle sticks! :)).

I'm gonna get through this. Gimme just a moment & I'll be alright

Last night was hard & today ain't shaping up to be much different. My stupid kidney hurt a lot last night and so much that I couldn't even sleep after I took two percocets. Second verse is same as the first, today feels like last night. The day after the new tube feels a lot like the day after a car wreck. Sore and drained. Today I feel like that, and super emotional. I am just in an awful, horrible funk. I want to crawl under the covers and cry until Madden is born. I know I can do this. That i can make it ten more weeks and I really do want to. I do. I just don't believe it right now that I can. Right now I wish I was fresh back from a Starbucks run with a venti mocha frappuccino in hand, walking in the door with my flip flops on yelling at my boys to come outside and play. I wish today I was flying them through the air like little airplanes, or laying on our backs on the grass watching the clouds calling out all the shapes, and laughing at Prestlee until I am out of breath because he can't see anything beyond butts and other body parts we ought not be 'seeing' in the clouds. Not laying here in the bed hurting like this, itching like this, feeling like I am on the verge of throwing up every single ounce of life inside me, again. My throat burns from throwing up so much. I am just tired, exhausted and drained. I am really sad at myself for feeling like I just wanna wave the white flag and be done. I'm not done, I wont give up. I'm gonna keep on keep'n on for you my precious Madden. Some days are just harder than others. Today is one of those days.

When we were doing IVF to conceive Prestlee it was VERY hard emotionally on me, after getting pregnant and experiencing the first of my three miscarriages I used music to help me cope with hard moments. In fact as far as I can even ever remember I have done this. Different times in my life have different songs that relate to whatever I was going through. I would hum or sing the lyrics in my head or crank up the music pretty loud to escape my own sad thoughts. I made a cd during that IVF process and there was this one song on the CD that was my panic button song. I have caught myself humming that song so much lately. The first night I went to the hospital a few weeks ago, the night before I got the tube, I was laying in the bed completely zoned out on iv pain meds and realized I was humming the song. Anyway here is the song. there are two versions. I like the acoustic one a whole lot, but in my major ruts its the fast version that plays in my head to calm me. Daniel Beddingfield- I gotta get through this. My Theme song. My Mantra. I'm gonna get through this. Gotta make, gotta make it through. Yes I'm gonna get through this. Give me 'til tomorrow and I'll be okay.

Sunshine and Memories

This beautiful weather, in spite of how I feel, reminds me of memories of being a little girl, living on wissahickon avenue with my mama & playing in the backyard. I can almost remember her laugh when I'd ask if I could go "swim" in the 'hose pipe'. It seemed like she always said yes to playing outside, & Popsicles. I remember her being so much fun & even going down the slide in my care-bears pool over & over again. That taught me to have fun with my boys. Those are memories that warm my heart when I look back & overshadow everything else. Thank you mama for being that mama to me and teaching me to live life every day and to live it in happiness even it means going against the grain.

twenty four weeks!!

I have baked my sweet little Madden TWENTY FOUR weeks (+2 days)!! Woohoo! 1st viability milestone met!! Madden is officially 'vent-ready' & has a shot at life on the outside!! 4 tubes down & 9-10 to go & hopefully 9-10 more weeks of growing so we can BRING HIM HOME :))!! It's been a really, really hard week with my kidney & PTL but I did it. He's inside & I am home & in the end that's what matters most. ♥

The big squeezes.

This afternoon my uterus decided to go haywire and out of control on the contraction front. I haven't slept in three nights because of kidney pain and pretty much throwing up every time I put something in my mouth. It was as if my body knew I really needed a nap, you know the way a newborn senses you've just fallen asleep or you've just sat down to eat. Anyway, Mimi headed out with the boys to the park and probably no sooner than she pulled out of the driveway the monsters started pounding me. One after the other after the other...I started guzzling water to make them stop. I tried a warm cloth over my belly because I can't soak in a tub (thank you stupid tube). That didn't work and neither did guzzling. So, after three hours of being in denial that they weren't chilling out and calming down I called the OB and she said exactly what I didn't want to hear. "Go into L&D now". I was contracting 4-5 minutes apart, which totally sucked. By the time we got there I was vomiting about every 15 minutes too. It took 4 attempts to get an IV in and get fluids running. I got three rounds of terbutaline to stop contractions which thankfully the third shot worked so no mag this time (woohooo!!). Anyway i left the hospital with baby boy still stowing away in my cranky uterus and four very wicked bruises. Hopefully Friday the very nice lady, the anesthesiologist who finally got a line on me on the first try too, will remember me and work her skills again. Here is just one of the nasty bruises that line my arm. I have 3-4 dotting each arm.