Showing posts with label pumping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label pumping. Show all posts
Monday, April 29, 2013

This is a letter in response to Empowered Preemie Moms by Shaana Berman, author and friend of Preemie Resources. Her book can be found on Amazon.


Bradley, recently.

My name is Andrea Irving, and I am an ob/gyn physician and mother of 2 preemies. I finished reading your book 3 days ago, and I loved it.  I'd like to share my story as it is vastly different than your others.

When I was pregnant with Alec, I was a resident working 90 hours a week on average.  I was on my feet all day delivering babies, doing c-sections, and rounding.  I worked from about 5am until 6pm daily and on the weekend, I had one 26-28 hour shift.  It's a hard life, and it took its toll on me.  You'll find that L&D nurses, NICU nurses, and ob/gyn's often have pregnancy issues.  While I was a resident, we had a girl with PUPPP's, a guy whose wife PPROM'ed at 34 weeks, a NICU nurse whose baby had SVT and died shortly after birth, a girl who got HELLP syndrome at 30 weeks, and a few other things.  Those are the things that stand out though.


I get pregnant pretty easily, so 3 months after I got my IUD out, I was pregnant with Alec.  His gender was a surprise, as one of my biggest pet peeves is people who could care less that their baby has all its other parts.  So to us, that was a really unimportant part, and we went gender neutral on everything.  Well, I threw up until about 20 weeks, which was fine.  I had trouble doing surgeries because of the nausea.  I got into a car accident at 19 weeks, but everything was fine.  And my asthma got totally out of control around 22 weeks.  But everything was great.  At about 25 weeks, I started contracting enough that my attendings noticed and sent me home.  When I was 25w4d, I started a call shift.  It was brutal and I could barely waddle around by the end.  I was 25w6d when I went home.  I fell asleep around 11am and woke up at about 5pm in a pool of blood.  We rushed to Ob Triage at my hospital and I was admitted.  I'd had a small placental abruption, but the baby was stable.  His growth was noted to be in the 8th percentile, which is IUGR, but it was thought best to check a growth scan again in 3-4 weeks.  I got a steroid window to help mature lungs and protect brain and gut.  I was sent home on bed rest, much to my fellow residents' chagrin (they had to pick up my slack now), and life went on.  I contracted a lot, but enjoyed my time being bored on the couch.  At 29 weeks, Alec was only in the 5th percentile.  At 32 weeks, he was in less than the first percentile.  I got a steroid booster and was told I'd likely be induced early.  At 35 weeks, he had essentially stopped growing, and I was induced at 36 weeks.  Alec was born at 36w1d after a very uneventful labor and weighed 5lb even.  He was only 16 1/2 inches long though.  His weight dropped to 4lb6oz and he got jaundiced, so he was kept an additional day.  That was hard on me.  I cried and cried. But he passed his carseat test the next day and came home.  We had a hip dysplasia scare, but after a negative ultrasound, everyone was reassured. He had to go to daycare at 6 weeks, which broke my heart, but I had to go back to work.  He was sick a lot, but daycare babies are.  Oh, and I'd had a postpartum hemorrhage, a retained placenta, and a post partum fever. I had to have a D&C to get the placenta out.



Alec during his apgar testing.

The postpartum trouble started when Alec was about 4 weeks old.  I felt depressed, saw my ob, and got put on an antidepressant I'd had a good experience with.  It seemed to help at first, but then stopped.  My doctor increased the dose.  Again, it only helped for a while.  I started crying all the time and fantasizing about driving my car off this overpass onto one of the freeways here in Phoenix.  I started wondering if I could get my car to go fast enough to kill myself by accelerating into the telephone poles on the other sides of intersections.  Then I had to stop breastfeeding suddenly due to work contraints.  I started hearing voices.  I knew that was abnormal, and I'd cry when it happened.  It sounded like a crowd of people, like I could never be alone.  My husband finally'd had enough and told one of my attendings.  She sent me directly to a psychiatrist and I was diagnosed with postpartum psychosis and bipolar disorder.  I was immediately put on medication and in a few days I was a new woman. I took a long time off work to recover. 

Alec, of course, is no worse for the wear from this dark time in my life.  I feel terrible though.  I have so few memories of the first 6 months of his life.  It makes me sad.  But he's fine and loving, and that's what matters.  His only issue was a teeny language delay.  He only had about 2 or 3 words by 18 months.  My sister-in-law expressed concern (her older child was really early with his language, so I think her opinion was skewed) and gave us some paperwork on assessing for speech delay.  Well, I never looked at it.  Literally 2 weeks after she gave us the paper, Alec was speaking in full sentences.  Just goes to show how not all kids develop the same!



Alec at 12 months.

We had originally wanted two children, but this experience really put us off.  I'd had another IUD inserted rigth at 6 weeks postpartum, so I was willing to just have one child.  I was diagnosed with MTHFR C677T mutation (normal homocysteine), which depending on what literature you read, can cause IUGR and abruptions.  Or not.  I was also diagnosed with Sjogren's syndrome, which put the baby's heart at risk in any subsequent pregnancies.  But of course, my friends started having mroe babies.  And I wanted one.  I got my IUD out in March or April of 2011.  We decided in January of 2012, after much discussion, that we should actually try for #2.  I got pregnant in February.  I currently work 4 days a week for 40 hours, which is vastly different than residency! 


All was well in the first trimester.  Threw up a lot (until 25 weks), but otherwise fine.  But then I had my NT scan and started having tons of cramps afterward.  My ob put me on bedrest for 2 weeks.  I was allowed to go back to work afterward for 3 half days per week.  All was well for a month.  Then at 17 weeks, I started spotting.  Went to the ER against my better judgement (husband mae me all the after hours nurse and she wanted me to go in... sigh), and was diagnosed with a placenta previa.  Was put on bedrest again.  I spotted brown off and on for about 6 weeks.  At 24 weeks, I woke up bleeding.  I spent 3 days in the hospital and was finally allowed to go home, this time on strict bedrest.
At this point, I knew I was in trouble.  I'd been followed by the MFM since 6 weeks.  He didn't want me going past 38 weeks. But now I had a feeling I wouldn't even make it to 36.  With a heavy heart, I got out the preemie clothes. We had tried to not know if we were having a boy or girl, but the tech for our fetal echo was sloppy and I saw a scrotum.  We had fetal echocardiograms every 4 weeks due tot he risk of heart block Bradley had from my Sjogren's.  I never left my bedroom, except to go to my doctor's appointments.  And then at 26 weeks, I bled again in the middle of the night.  Again, I didn't want to go in, but my husband and the after hours nurse made me.  I went to the hospital I thought I was delivering at, which was 5 minutes from our home.  I was admitted for observation, started on magnesium (again), and this time given a steroid window.  When my doctor saw me later in the day, he said that I needed a higher level of care and was transferring me to a hospital with a level 3 NICU (we were at a level 2EQ).  So, to my embarrassment, I was transported by ambulance.  As a resident, I hated transports, and now I was one! The new hospital was about 12-15 minutes from the house. I was grouchy because the doctor told me I'd be there for the duration of my pregnancy.  I got settled in my room and woke up around 6am literally gushing blood.

I called my husband, who seemed to instantaneously appear, even after having dropped our son off at a friend's.  I was rushed from antepartum to L&D.  Fortunately, Bradley behaved himself and my bleeding slowed down.  My stepdad even drove up from out of town because he was worried.  From that point, I never argued about staying in the hospital.  I tried to be patient and just let things roll.  I bled off and on and did crafts.  My husband and 3 year old visited 1-2 times a day (my husband is a stay at home dad), which kept my spirits up.  I had few other visitors, which suited me fine, as they stressed me out.  No one understood that I had to be there.  That Bradley or I might die waiting fro an ambulance at home if the blood came again.  That Bradley might be brain damaged if such a thing happened. That Bradley might die. I watched a lot of trash tv on Netflix.  Lots of movies.  I continued to crochet and cross stich little bibs.


I used more and more nifedipine for contractions.  Every time they were sustained, I ended up bleeding, so I got paranoid about getting my medication every 4 hours.  My blood pressure creeped up and I stated spilling a lot of protein, so I was diagnosed with mild pre-eclampsia.  They would continue to monitor me.  Bradley continued to grow well.  On the 14th of September, I was 31w2d.  They decided to do another transvaginal ultrasound to check on my previa.  It was gone! They attributed my bleeding to a chronic placental abruption and plans were made for me to go home with a home health nurse visiting periodically.  Well, the 14th was a Friday.  No one got ahold of the home health place until Monday.  It wasn't covered.  they wanted me to stay until they could find a company my insurance covered.  I flipped out.  I could check heart tones, pee on a stick, and take my own blood pressure.  I was a doctor!!!! I knew just what to look for.  Finally my ob relented, and I went home on the 17th.

I did cheat a little after I went home.  I scheduled 4 appointments, including a breastfeeding class, a massage, and an eyebrow waxing, for Tuesday.  I had 2 additional appointments for Wednesday.  Thursday, I had my NST at my ob's and all was well.  I was tired, but fine.  Friday around 4 in the morning, I woke up bleeding a little.  I was 32w2d.  I checked my blood pressure and heart tones.  Everything was fine.  I considered not calling, but I did at my husband's insistance, and headed tot he hospital.  I had a bad feeling, but didn't say anything.  I got admitted, of course. 


My ob actually came out of his uber-conservative shell and was going to let me go back home after having a steroid booster.  So I got one shot on Friday afternoon.  That evening, my boss from work came by, which was nice.  No one was with me because it was expected I'd come home the next evening, so the company was appreciated.  Well, I went to sleep.  Woke upi around 6am 9/22 to the feeling of gushing blood and was rushed to L&D.  My husband arrived eerily fast once again.  This time my mother-in-law had come to help out, so no arrangements for childcare had to be made.  Well, the bleeding slowed, but didn't stop.  I was 4cm, laboring.  Bradley looked wonderful on the monitor, so I labored. I got my epidural right away-- I've never had any illusions about my pain tolerance.  I feel epidurals were a marvelous invention, but if you feel the need for pain just because cave women did it that way, so be it.  So I got the epidural and my contractions slowed down.  I was 6cm for hours.  They broke my water, and still no change.  Pitocin was started and about 30 minutes later, I was in excruciating pain and needed to push.  My epidural, it seemed, was not working.  At all.  My doctor was not on call.  His backup was at her house.  The hospitalist was moseying along or something because she did not arrive instantaneously like I wanted.  She got her gown and gloves on ever so slowly.  I pushed and I knew exactly what my patients meant when they said they couldn't push.  I felt paralyzed by pain.  Next contraction came.  I pushed.  Then I cried and somehow he was born in about 4-5 minutes of pushing.  Thank God for that.  He was born at 11:53pm on 9/22.  7 minutes before I turned 34.  My best birthday present ever.

He was beautiful.  My first words were, "He's so big!" Maybe he wasn't to parents of termies, but he was to me.  The hospitalist (who later turned out to be my new boss's wife... weird...) put him on my chest and I held him.  I cut his cord (I also cut Alec's as Colin refused) and they whisked him to the isolette in the room.  A moment later I heard him cry.  I kept on crying.  It was a beautiful sound.  His APGAR's wre 8 and 9, so they brought him to me to hold before they took him to the NICU.  I just couldn't get over how beautiful he was.

Bradley at two days of life.

My placenta didn't come.  Again.  I hemorrhaged.  Again.  Fortunately, I didn't need a D&C this time.  I was able to pee after the useless epidural was taken out, so they wheeled me to the NICU.  Bradley weighed 4lb5oz and was 17.75in long-- longer than his 36 weeker brother!  He was breathing on his own, although tachypneic.  They anticipated putting him on CPAP after he tired out.  I got to hold his little hand, and then I went to my room.  I immediately called for a breast pump.  The lactation consultant had seen me at 27 and 31 weeks, and I knew what I had to do to get my supply in.  I pumped.  I got 1.7mL of liquid gold that first time.  I was ecstatic.


I ventured over to the NICU after I pumped a second time and showered.  My plan was to pump every 2 hours from 6am until 6pm and then every 3 hours from 6pm to 6am.  People thought I was crazy, but my milk came in quickly.  We got ribs and a cake for my birthday, which was obviously spent in the hospital.  Unfortunately  that night, the nurse called and said bradley's IV had infiltrated his TPN into his little hand and caused a chemical burn.  The whole back of his hand was black and there was an ulcerated area in the center.  It ended up taking about 5 weeks to heal.

Other than the IV issue, Bradley was our little rock star.  He never did end up needing oxygen support or other medications.  He started oral feeds on either 9/23 or 9/24.  Those dates get a little blurry.  He was jaundiced and had a hard time passing his meconium, but was otherwise amazing.  He was on full oral feeds by day 10 of life and was moved from the NICU to the CCN (continuing care nursery, a step-down unit).  Gone was our private oasis and amazing nurse. We were in a 4-bed room with new nurses to get used to.  On day 2 of being in the CCN, we got to try the bottle.  he ate like a champ.  We brought in our own bottles from home, which they happily used.  I was determined to breastfeed and didn't want even their "slow" flow nipples.  I had been doing the non-nutritive breastfeeding, and Bradley had taken to it.  The day after his bottle feed, I got to breastfeed him!  He was amazing.

It was around this time, maybe a few days earlier, that my nipples started their issues.  My old pump in style was not functioning properly and the suction was out of control.  I think that may have had something to do with it.  I likely started out with too small flanges, which contributed to it.  And I was pumping tons from the get go.  My areolas were raw.  I tried every remedy imaginable.  Maybe thrush, so I used gentian violet.  I had 2 strengths of APNO.  I had lansinoh.  I used warm saline soaks.  I air dried.  I spead milk on them.  I used ice.  Nothing.  Finally, my lactation consult in the NICU (God bless her) as well as an IBCLC friend who runs a physicians breastfeeding support group suggested nifedipine.  They thought I might have traumatic Raynaud's of the nipple.  I was also told to use the giant 36mm flanges and the APNO round the clock.  Within 3 or 4 days, my nipples were healed. 

Then latch issues started after we got home.  In the hospital, Bradley was a great nurser.  But once we were home, he started hurting and he nursed constantly.  On my parenting board online someone suggested tongue tie.  I looked at some pictures on Google and then in my sweet boy's mouth and wow! His tongue tie went all the way to the tip of his tongue! Not sure why no one in the NICU noticed this since he was examined daily.  He also had a very thick lip tie.  I have since learned these are common in families, as well as in preemies.  Alec didn't have this and no one in either family did, so we can thank preemiehood.  Luckliy my IBCLC friend took one look at my pictures and referred me to a pediatrician who cauterized tongue and lip ties.  The tongue was done first, and I was discouraged because nothing changed.  I wondered if because Bradley was 3 months old that he had developed bad habits we would have to correct.  2 weeks later the lip tie was done.  Once the cauterized area healed, it was amazing! No pain!  My husband reported that he had stopped screaming all day.  And his need to constantly nurse stopped, as he was better able to extract the milk. 

Since then, it's been mostly smooth sailing.  Bradley did have a largeish umbilical hernia, which I freaked out about.  I was so worried he'd need surgery, but the pediatrician said they normally just observe them, and it's so small it never pokes out anymore.  He does have the worst case of eczema my pediatrician has ever seen, and that is a constant struggle for us, but we keep it in check with steroid creams and super thick lotions.  My beautiful baby boy is now 14lb and 26in long.  His length is average size for a 6 month old and in greater than the 99th percentile for 4 month olds.  Crazy!

During my pregnancy, I never could have gotten through without 2 groups.  The first group are the lovely ladies on the high risk, preemie, and birth month boards on thebump.com. They are amazing, supportive, and knowledgeable-- even for non medical people!  I checked in multiple times a day every day for months.  It was nice to know others were going through almost exactly the same thing as me!
The second group is sidelines.org.  This is a specific support group for pregnant women on bedrest.  They were a godsend.  They assign you a buddy who can either call and e-mail you or just e-mail you.  You chat back and forth and you don't feel so socially isolated and alone.  I plan on volunteering as soon as I finish my class-- I am starting to get my CME's and experience together to get my IBCLC.
I also used an organization called Pictures of Hope.  They're a fantastic, non profit organization where photographers in the community come to your NICU and take professional pictures of your baby.  The sitting is free.  You also get 25 4x6 prints, as well as a discount (determined by the photographer) on any additional prints you get.  Our photographer drove 60+ miles from Queen Creek to Glendale to take Bradley's picture.  She was wonderful.  Many of the photographers are preemie moms too, so they really get it!  There is a list of photographers on their website.

During Prematurity Awareness Month (November), I put one fact about prematurity on my Facebook page every day.  My friends and family commented about what they learned and how shocked they were at what we went through almost every day.  It was nice that they could finally understand what I meant by "adjusted age" and stuff like the challenges preemies face.  There are Facebook groups for Prematurity Awareness Month, Parents of Preemies, Preemie Dads, and Preemie Resources.  I'd recommend joining any or all of these groups.

I am also doing the March of Dimes March for Babies to raise money and awareness for prematurity and high risk pregnancy.  It's amazing how many friends of friends have gone through a premature birth or difficult pregnancy and no one knew!  So I'm marching with my friend's friend's team.  Her 28 weeker is now 8 years old.  She has many of the same NICU pictures I do.  I am sure everyone else has these too.
I also participated in a study for the Organization for Teratology Information Services (OTIS).  Basically OTIS monitors women who have drug exposures in pregnancy.  You sign up for a particular study and then you track your medications, hospitalizations, and ultrasounds.  I was in the rheumatoid arthritis study, the asthma study, and the vaccination study.  They did follow up interviews throughout the pregnancy and a developmental pediatrician came out to examine Bradley about a month ago.  He did some special measurements and was really pleased at how he was developing.  That made me feel great.

We are also followed by the Neonatal Intensive Care Program (NICP) here in AZ.  The nurse comes out and does home visits for 18 months + to monitor the preemies' development and can facilitate entry into the early intervention system if needed.  NICP is paid for by the state, as is early intervention.  So, if we need speech, occupational, physical therapy or perhaps a dietician, she can make all that happen.  She encouraged us to apply for WIC (I qualified... a doctor! Love that short term disability only paying me 27% of my salary...) and social security, which paid for gas going to and from the hospital while Bradley was there.  She also talked to us about deferring my student loans and credit card bills until we got back on our feet. 

As an ob/gyn, I never knew about any of this.  I basically came into this situation blind.  I'd delivered many a preemie and put many a woman on hospital or home bedrest without thinking of the consequences of that.  Now I really think of how that affects a mom and baby and family and I weigh all of my decisions carefully.  I am a much more sympathetic and empathetic doctor.  It was shocking to me all of the things that went along with it.  Sure, we followed up on our preemie deliveries to see how they were doing, but we never got to see the human side of our actions.  Having lived through it now has taught me a lot.  Strangely, I am grateful for my experiences.  I do want another baby, but we have agreed that Bradley is our last.  We came through this experience as a family, but again, I have the guilt of "abandoning" my husband and 3 year old.  Alec was great-- he enjoyed going to the "hostible" and seeing me or spending time on my sister-in-law's farm.  It was a fun time for him.  It was agonizing for me to miss out on our lives.  I also feel like we dodged a bullet.  Twice.  We got lucky that we had no major complications with either of our sons, and we don't want to tempt fate.  If we do, will be get a 28 weeker this time? A 24 weeker this time? IVH? ROP? NEC? Death of me or the baby? It's not worth it.  I love my family too much to put them through all that again.


Alec, now three and a half years old!

Anyway, that's my story.  It seems like a dream sometimes.  I look at the NICU pictures and just shake my head at the baby Bradley has become.  At the little guy Alec has become.  It will stay with me forever. 

Andrea Irving, D.O.


Monday, November 5, 2012


I am a NICU mom, a twin mom, and an AMA mom.  (that last one is Advanced Maternal age).   I was 39 when I was blessed with my twin pregnancy.  I am also an adoptive mom to my 14 year old son.  I did have complications.  Gestational diabetes, a SCH (Sub chorionic hematoma), bleeding, cramping, and throwing up for the first 27 weeks. :/

My sweet girls were born preemie at 32 weeks on the dot.  I am a former NICU nurse, and I never, ever thought I would be a NICU mama. 

I felt cramps, and ignored them.  I would later find out, it was PTL, Preterm Labor.
I am angry at myself for my girls’ early delivery.  I should clarify and say, I hated my body on that day.  It failed my girls and it failed me.  I didn’t want to have babies in the NICU…I was trained to take care of preemies …not at all prepared to be a mom on the other side of the fence.

Lauren was born vaginally and Kate was born via c-section on July 20, 2010.  I recovered on a GYN floor.  Found out later, I was on that floor instead of regular Mother/Baby unit so I would not hear babies crying.  It was too quiet and I didn’t like it at all.  I even asked why I was not on the regular mother/baby unit, and a nurse said, “we do that so you won’t get sad hearing the babies cry.”  I wanted to hear babies cry.  I was a Mom just like those “term” moms.  My babies were in the NICU, but I still was a mom.  Being on that floor away from all the other moms and babies was awful. It was hard enough being in a completely separate building from them.  And to be on a floor with a ton of old geezers in for GYN stuff was depressing.

My girls were in the hospital for 2 months.  And it was NICU hell.

I think knowing all that I did about preemies was good and not so good.  I knew too much.  And it was hard for me to be Mom, because I was used to being the nurse in the room.

I’m going to be honest:  I was not a fan of pumping breast milk.   I did it for my girls.  I knew their bowels were premature, and BM would be the best nutrition for them.  I only pumped for a total of 3 months.  I had to stop, as it was making me a stress case.  I never got much milk and I tried just about every piece of advice I was given to produce more milk.  My body was failing me again, and failing my girls. 




Lauren, my baby A was a chunk.  She was close to 5 pounds.  Kate, my baby B, had IUGR (intrauterine growth retardation) and she was 3 pounds.  Everyone always thinks the chunky babies are healthy, but Lauren was very, very sick.  She was in PPHN (persistent pulmonary hypertension) caused from her PDA and ASD.  I was forbidden to touch her or talk to her for 10 days.  It was the hardest 10 days of my life.  She never opened her eyes until the evening of day 10.  She was moments away from being placed on ECMO and they kept telling me they were doing all they could.  She was a 2:1.  (Two to one).  That means, 2 nurses to 1 baby.  She had so many things hooked to her sweet little body, she needed the care of 2 nurses and 1 respiratory therapist. 



She was on the Oscillator (high frequency ventilator)  for a long time.  Lauren also came home on oxygen, a pulse ox (pulse oximeter), and a cardiac monitor.  She needed oxygen for 3 months.  Thank God above I pushed to get her home, because I would not have survived an additional 3 months in the hospital.  I just wanted my girls at home.
In the 2 months the girls were in the NICU, I only spent 7 hours at home away from them.  My husband insisted I sleep at home, in our bed, so I would “feel better”.
 It was awful being away from them, and I just worried and could not sleep.  From that moment on, I stayed in the hospital with the girls.  I rarely saw the sun.  And I did try and take walks around the hospital and thru the courtyards to get fresh air…but honestly, I just didn’t want to be outside when my girls were sick in the hospital.  I didn’t care at that time if it was sunny and flowers blooming…

I wished I had made a journal entry about the girls shortly after they were born.  I think I was on too much overload to think about a journal.  I know I would have included more details of our NICU time.  I did learn a few things about NICU, that as a nurse, I had never experienced before.  I experienced emotions as a NICU mom, and everyone in our family seemed to not fully understand what I was going thru.  That is how I found this Preemie group on the Bump, and later, I joined them on Facebook.

I would read peoples “siggys” on the Bump to have HOPE.  When I would see other Preemie moms had survived the NICU, and they had a preemie pic next to a current pic of their baby at age 1, I had HOPE.  It got me thru some of the hardest days in the NICU.  Having a support group of other NICU/Preemie Moms is a very healing place to go and share about all things Preemie.  I can say and share things that most full term moms will never understand.  I am so grateful for the women in the FB group. 

Here is my gripe list ;)

1.     My babies are preemie.  They are in the NICU.  They need peace and quiet.  They should still be on the inside.  Please don’t ask a NICU mom if you can come and visit.  Support her thru meals, gift cards to places that offer a carry out menu, and send her text messages.  Even a card.  But give her space and time.

2.    I hate hospitals.  (and I am a nurse) 

3.    My 1 year olds are not doing the same thing your 1 year old is doing.  Don’t point it out.  I know my little ones are delayed. 

4.    If you are carrying a baby, be grateful for every ache and pain you have.  My friends and I would give anything to have those aches and pains.  We would go thru anything to keep our babies cooking and not be in the NICU.

5.    Wash your hands.  Our preemies are more vulnerable to colds, flu’s, and any type of illness.  If you even think your throat is scratchy, STAY HOME.  And a week after you thought your throat was scratchy…I’m still going to ask you to put on a mask. 


If you are on bed rest, I wish you as much cooking time as is possible.  Remember, being on bed rest is truly a full time job.  You are growing a little human, and that is an amazing job.  Every day your LO (little one) can stay on the inside~ is less NICU time.  So do not get discouraged.  Online shop, shop, shop.  J   

If you are a preemie/Nicu mom, I wish you an uneventful stay in the NICU.  And I hope you and your sweet baby are home very, very soon.  ::Hugs for you::





Thursday, October 11, 2012


I wish I had written this sooner as I worry now that some of the details are getting a little too fuzzy, but looking back a year later it all still seems so surreal. I wasn’t strong enough till now to do this, so it just had to wait.

A little background about me, ever since I found out as a child that tiny preemies could be kept alive in safe plastic boxes, I was fascinated. I went to the library and checked out every book I could find, I poured over newspaper and People stories about every set of multiples featured and longed for more details of these mysterious NICU stays. I decided I was going to be a Neonatologist.

18 years later my dreams had almost come true. I was in my last year of Pediatric Residency, married to the man of my dreams, and finally expecting my own baby. My experiences had led me away from planning for a career in Neonatology (I had found my calling as a General Pediatrician instead), but I had loved every minute in the NICU in residency. I loved saving the day by helping a baby take those first precious breaths. I found meaning in those early am hours writing pages of medication and transfusion orders diligently trying to save a tiny patient. But nothing was better than months later when I found out they had gone home. I also witnessed loss first hand. Gut wrenching, heart breaking, sob inducing, loss. Way more loss than I knew I could handle on a daily basis. Neonatology was amazing, but not the career for me.




These experiences armed me with information but also fear of the unknown as I faced my own pregnancy knowing all too well the things that could go wrong. I put on a brave face and told my colleagues, friends, and family that I was staying positive and focusing on how well it was all going, but having faced an early loss with my first pregnancy I was not in denial about the possibility of complications.

Weeks 16-19 were blissful. Morning sickness had finally abated, my belly was growing, and my face was beaming. Residency was drawing to a close and I felt on top of the world. I began noticing tightening of my belly periodically which I attributed to early movements. Over the next few days these sensations got more rhythmic, and I started to worry. I spoke with the OB triage nurse and she sent me in for lab work. It looked like I had a UTI. A week of antibiotics later and the contractions had not abated, so I went in again. My midwife told me that she thought my cervix was shortened so they sent me over to L&D, I was about 22 weeks along.

I called my husband on the walk over. I calmly explained in greater detail what I had hinted about in our discussions over the last few weeks. Our baby was pre-viable, if I went into labor now, there was little that could be done. Forever my rock, he assured me that things would be fine but that he would leave work in case. It was the longest elevator ride of my life. My thoughts raced thinking about the little wiggly being inside of me and the what-ifs. My heart was heavy thinking of all the internet friends whose stories started like this and ended in loss and heartbreak. I was one of the lucky ones. The exam had been wrong. My cervix was long and closed. They told me that this was my “new normal.” They said that if things changed with my contractions I would know and should come in.

The next few weeks were full of excitement. My belly seemed to grow by the day, my pregnancy passed that precious viability milestone, and I started a new job. I was again on top of the world. Then one afternoon the contractions picked up. I started timing them and was having them every 3-8 minutes and at least 6-7 times in an hour. I called my husband at work. He left immediately and we drove in to L&D in the city. They checked me and confirmed the regularity of my contractions. This time I was 1cm dilated. They admitted me even though I wasn’t changing my cervix to be careful.  I received steroids to help with lung maturity. They ordered the standard NICU consult. When two of my favorite neonatologists walked in I almost lost it. It was so surreal. They were sweet and supportive and told me to get back home ASAP. They went through things in detail for my husband, I wanted to make sure he heard the full talk. They tried many different meds but nothing consistently worked. I continued to contract but stayed a 1cm. Because my tracings also looked good they felt reassured and sent me home after 2 days.

I stayed on bedrest for about a week, only leaving the house one time a day for less than an hour each time. Friends covered shifts at work sending worried email encouraging me to do everything possible to keep my baby inside. I busied myself ordering things online for the nursery and using my precious daily excursion to buy things for the “Preterm Labor” bag I was getting packed, just in case. My contractions continued unchanged. At my follow up appointment we discussed the risks and benefits of bedrest and decided that going back to work while limiting standing and drinking lots of water was the plan that made the most sense. I went back to work and felt great to be moving again. My contractions remained unchanged and I was relieved. I was so exhausted from the sleepless nights and days of worrying that working again was a welcomed distraction.

On September 9th I slept in late. I slowly got ready for my afternoon shift, pausing to take a bump picture to post to my board on The Bump as I had many weeks before. Work was a little busy, but I managed to finish early. At home I changed into comfy clothes, ate dinner on the couch with my husband and turned on some mindless TV. Soon after dinner I had 3 contractions in a row that seemed different. I was breathing though each one and they were concentrated lower than any of my contractions before.  I told my husband to start timing them. After an hour of contracting every five minutes I got up to go to the bathroom and get myself ready to possibly go in. I was bleeding… a lot. I screamed for James to grab the bag and camera and threw on clothes.

The drive in felt like it took hours. I was cursing every red light and praying for my little guy to move and let me know he was ok. We rushed in to triage and they seemed a lot less concerned this time. They confirmed my contraction pattern and did an ultrasound. My cervix was long and my little man was moving like crazy. They said they were going to send me home. Just before I started to get ready to put my clothes back on the resident returned and said, “I want to do a pelvic exam just to confirm, is that ok.” She lingered a while and finally looked at me and said, “You’re 3 cm dilated. I think we’re going to keep you.” After a long discussion that I could last many weeks at 3 cm they transferred me to an antepartum room. They started magnesium, which they never had with my first admission since I was never in labor.

The contractions got steadily stronger and closer together. They checked me again and I was still 3cm but more effaced. This confirmed labor, but the team was still hopeful. The NICU attending came and talked with us, reassuring us that 29 weeks was much better than 27 weeks but still prepared us for a rocky start and lifetime risks of cerebral palsy, learning disabilities, and other problems. My husband stayed by my side squeezing my wrist to try to distract me from my contractions. I wanted to walk, scream, move, anything to make the contractions bearable but I was chained to my bed by the monitors and web of IV tubing. They flooded me with fluids and I dreaded to get up to go to the bathroom because every time there was more blood. I passed huge clots and panicked, my nurses tried to be reassuring.

Around 2am my husband hit his breaking point. He could no longer keep pressure on my wrist to distract me because his fingers were numb. He knew that my contractions were more frequent and lasting longer and he was worried. “They’re not doing anything. How long do they expect us to go on like this. I can’t take it.” We spoke to my nurse and she sent the team in. “You’re 6 cm dilated now” they told us, “there’s nothing we can do. Your baby is going to be born today.” I decided to get some pain meds and eventually an epidural so we could rest. They transferred me from antepartum to LDR. Reality hit.

We cried. We called our parents and asked for prayers. My dad and his wife promised to be on a plane within the next 24 hours. We slept.

I woke up with increasing pressure around 12:30pm. They checked me and I was 8cm. I cried some more. As I calmed I realized there was no changing the moment, no going back to the bliss of thinking this could all be stopped, that this wouldn’t be our story. I became resolved. I told my husband that we needed to cheer up and focus on our baby, this was his birthday after all. We talked to him, telling that he had to come out and be a NICU rockstar not a wimpy white boy (white males in the NICU have the worst outcomes). We told him how excited we were to meet him even though it was earlier than we had planned.

I stayed at 9-9.5cm for several hours. My water hadn’t broken and that was slowing my labor. I had lots of pressure and was freaked out that the delivery might happen quickly without the right people assembled. I had been to emergencies in the LDR rooms before and knew that they never went as well as when sick babies were greeted by a fully assembled NICU team in the safety of the resuscitation room that adjoined the ORs. My doctors agreed to move me into the OR and break my water there.
As they wheeled me down the hall, I yelled, “let’s go have a birthday party” and joked with the nurses about my “birth plan.” “I want immediate skin to skin, no bath for 24 hours, and exclusive rooming in. This ugly surgical cap was NOT part of the plan!” I knew if I wasn’t laughing I would be crying. As we settled into the OR, my thoughts raced to crash c-section I knew they were preparing for. I eyed the surgical tech in the corner of the room and willed her to stay put. They broke my water and his heartrate stayed up!

The pediatric team came in to say hi. The senior resident, who had been the year behind me in residency and the fellow, who had been my classmate, looked worried. “It’s ok guys!” I reassured them, “This little guy is going to be a rockstar!” The OBs told them to go and they would call them when delivery was more imminent, “We’re not going anywhere!” The senior resident said. I was immensely grateful. I knew how the minutes could drag by standing around waiting for a delivery while your mind raced to all the orders and notes waiting for you in the NICU, but their presence was reassuring. I trusted them.





The shrill ring of monitor alarms brought the OBs to their feet. My little guy’s heartrate had dropped as he was pushed further down the birth canal by my contractions.  “Time to push!” the high risk OB told me. As I pushed, the alarms sounded again, I backed off. “Harder” they yelled, and the contraction passed. This repeated 3 more times. Then they asked, “is there some reason you’re not pushing very hard? He’s very little, you should be able to get him out easily. He needs to come out now.” “But his heartrate keeps dropping” my voice quivered, “I feel like I’m going to kill him.” A look of recognition spread across their faces, they were treating a fellow healthcare professional who knew all too well what those alarms meant. “We’ll turn the sound off. We won’t let you kill him. Push with all your might and we’ll tell you when to back off.”

A few pushes later I felt his tiny body slip from mine. I looked down and my son, Henry Oliver, stared right back at me and then let out a scream. “Oh my God,” I cried, “He’s beautiful.” He let out one more tiny cry and was passed off through a window to the waiting NICU team.

The next few hours were some of the longest of my life. The NICU team worked to stabilize Henry.  He needed to be intubated and his blood pressures were low. James went to see him and came back with pictures. I was jealous. I went down to the NICU as soon as I was physically able, but the team was putting in umbilical lines so Henry was draped. I sat in my wheelchair for a while watching the numbers on his monitor go up and down, listenting to the familiar whoosh of the ventilator breaths, willing something, someone to tell me he was going to be alright. Heartbroken, I asked to be taken back to my room. I got there and broke down sobbing. He didn’t feel like mine, my baby. It felt like I was watching over another tiny patient.

Pumping became my solace, the one thing I could do, but even that was mostly discouraging. The next morning brought good news. Henry was doing better and would be extubated. Hours after being extubated his nurse lifted his tiny fragile body out of the protection of his isolette and placed him on my bare chest. As he wiggled into a position of comfort, I cradled his tiny bottom in my hand. Our heartrates both slowed and I knew it, he was mine. These were the tiny feet that kicked my ribs and this tiny bum was unmistakably the one that had been dancing inside me for months. I was his mom.

Update: After 38 days in the NICU, Henry came home. He has grown and thrived since and our lives couldn’t be better. Tomorrow we will celebrate his 1st birthday.



Thursday, August 2, 2012



When I found out I was pregnant I knew I wanted to breastfeed. The thought of feeding my child any other way never crossed my mind. I even had conversations with a few friends who were also pregnant at the time. They had mentioned their desire to breastfeed as well but also their fear that it just wouldn't work out. That thought never crossed my mind.

While this is a story about my success with breastfeeding a preemie I need to start with sharing a bit of Isaac's birth story with you. My pregnancy was going great. Until the last trimester. Enter high blood pressure, pre-eclampisa and bed rest. Add in a baby that quit growing and you have a 3 pound 4.5 ounce baby born at 35 weeks.

I had a few strikes against me right from the start. First of all, I had to have a c-section. I had no labor at all. The combination of having Isaac early and the c-section confused my body. I mean I was still suppose to be pregnant after all. My body didn't know right away that I had had a baby.

Before Isaac was born they told me if things looked okay we'd be able to try and breastfeed and do skin to skin within the first hour after he was born. Unfortunately he was having problems breathing in his own. So there was no way we could try breastfeeding or do skin to skin. Enter strike two.

Strike three is probably the hardest of them all. Isaac needed a NICU. The hospital we were at didn't have one. So he had to be airlifted to a NICU 1.5 hours away.  I didn't see him for three days.

I started pumping within an hour of Isaac's birth. I continued to pump every 2 hours during the day and every 3-4 hour at night. For the first two days it was all about signaling the body that it was time to produce milk. I didn't get anything from pumping except a few drops every once it awhile. It was very discouraging. At one point I got about half an ounce and I wanted to jump for joy. By the time I was released from the hospital I was probably producing less than an ounce a day. Whatever I managed to get with pumping I would save for Isaac. Pumping was extremely hard to do simply because there was no emotional connection. I was able to hold Isaac once before he was airlifted. Not being able to see my child made things extremely hard. Looking at pictures helped. But it was still hard.

When Isaac and I were reunited it was still to soon for him to try nursing. He was still really little and slept a majority of the time. So I continued to pump. The NICU had a room with a pump so I was able to stay at the hospital as much as possible. We tried to do skin to skin when we could and finally when Isaac was a week old I met with the lactation consultant, LC, for the first time. She helped me with getting him latched and told me what cues and signals that I needed to look for ensure he was sucking and swallowing. I was watching for raised eyebrows and ear wiggles. That's how I knew Isaac was swallowing.

Once we started nursing I wanted to do it all the time but I couldn't. Isaac was still really little and still slept a ton. Nursing was something that really pooped him out. He rarely ever cued that he was hungry so it really was all about going through the motions. Once Isaac was nursing successful with one feeding we increased it to two. We continued to increase the feedings when he did well. It didn't always go well though and it was emotionally draining on those days. Somedays he'd show no interest in nursing at all. Sometimes he'd get latched on but wouldn't do anything but sit there and he wouldn't eat. When he did nurse he's eat for a few minutes and then fall asleep. We kept working at it though and I met with the LC many times. I continued to pump the same amount I was before. Every 2 hours during the day and every 3-4 hours at night. When Isaac nursed I'd pump afterwards. 

I'll be honest. Nursing in the NICU kinda sucks. We were put on schedules of when I had to try nursing. Typically they were always on the hour but they wanted me there 30 minutes before just in case Isaac was wanting to eat before. If they wanted me to try nursing at 8am they wanted me there at 7:30 just in case. He had to be awake to eat and sometimes he'd be sleepy. Sometimes he wouldn't wake up, even when we tried to wake him. After every time he was awake and nursed they'd ask me how it went. They'd ask me if I thought he ate enough and if I thought he needed more. I was a first time mom. I had no idea. There was so much pressure. Most of the time they'd give Isaac more milk through a feeding tube. When we were first trying to teach him to nurse they usually give him a few tube feeds in between our nursing sessions. I really just wanted to feed him on demand. I wanted to feed him when he was showing signs of hunger, but it can't be done that way. Not when you have a tiny baby on your hands.

Isaac was released when we were able to successfully nurse a full day. They took his feeding tube out and we (my husband and I) roomed in with Isaac. He was released the next day. Isaac and I continued struggle at home with latching on and the length of nursing but we weren't bound by schedules so it made things a lot easier. When Isaac came home the LC told me to keep up with the pumping after every feeding and then drop a pumping session every few days. I am not sure why they wanted me to do this but as a first time mom I listened. It created an oversupply issue which made nursing even more challenging. I was almost always engorged which would often cause milk to get everywhere whenever Isaac would try to nurse. I did some research and spoke with the LC who told me to stop pumping and then try block feeding. I had to nurse from one side for several hours while leaving the other side alone. Then after 2-3 feedings I nursed from the other side. It was an extremely painful process. But it was corrected after a few days.  

Isaac is almost five months old and we still need to use the cross cradle hold because he still needs my support with his head. Sometimes we are able to do the cradle hold but not very often.  A majority of the time he is able to get latched on right away with no issues but it took a long time for us to get to that point. His nursing sessions are never very long. Usually only 10-15 minutes. Sometimes a little longer. And he rarely nurses from both sides. At first I was concerned, especially in the NICU because all the classes and books say 15-20 minutes on one side and 10-15 on the other side. But he was always getting enough. I guess the books and classes are wrong sometimes. It was a long process and there were so many times I wanted throw in the towel. It was really hard but I just couldn't allow myself to do that. Now I look back at everything we went through and I am so proud that we managed to beat every obstacle that came before us. 

Don't give up! Just keep working at it! You won't regret it! 
Thursday, January 19, 2012
To start off, my son was born at 33 weeks 3 days, and my milk supply was low to begin with. Since he was in the NICU and I couldn't breastfeed, I pumped. I pumped about 6 times a day, even though I should have been pumping more. It was the most stressful thing I have ever dealt with because I wanted to breastfeed SO BAD! But since my supply was low, I felt discouraged. I was about to give up, but was told by my midwife to try domperidone. Well, I ordered it online, since I read many reviews about it, and people said they ordered it here.

It was a miracle, seriously. Within 2 days, my supply went up. Since I felt so discouraged and ready to give up, I pumped less and less. I was pumping only 1 time to 2 times a day, and so my supply went down even more than it was initially. But then once I started taking domperidone, it has been going up and up. I am so glad I did not give up.


Here is how it went:

Day 1, I pumped only 26 ml, pumped 6 times, that's what I got total.

Day 2, it went up to 80 ml, pumped 7 times

Day 3, it was 80 ml again, but I only pumped 5 times

Day 4, went to 86, pumped 5 times

Day 5, went to 94, pumped 5 times

Day 6, went to 108, pumped 5 times

Day 7, went to 123, pumped 5 times

Breastfeeding seemed impossible because not only was my son fed by bottles since the beginning, but my supply was also low. Well since it's been going up, I've started working with him on breastfeeding with the nipple shield. And it worked! He seems to be getting a lot, since before when I tried he would cry since not much would come out. Domperidone has saved me, seriously. Now I am breastfeeding and pumping, so I can't tell exactly what amount I'm getting. But I get about 2oz each pumping after breastfeeding and that's just almost 2 weeks being on it. I do still have to give him formula, but we're working towards maybe getting rid of that altogether. He eats so much, and I am not able to give him just breast milk at this point. Maybe it'll happen though! I have hope, since it's increased my supply so much from when I started, even if it's not a lot yet, it's on its way up.

Honestly, i didn't think there was hope for me, and right now I'm just trying to build my milk supply back up, and then hopefully get more and more. As you can see there, my supply was VERY low because I almost stopped pumping all together, so I had to build it back up again. Right now I take 3 pills 3 times a day.

I would highly recommend Domperidone to anyone stressed about their supply, or feeling like there's nothing they can do, and want to give up. Try this, it really did work for me, and I couldn't be happier. I hope it will keep increasing, but at least I now have hope instead of feeling awful about it and crying over it so much. I felt like I failed him as a mom, but now I feel better and hopefully it'll just keep getting better and end up at a point where I can actually freeze some too.
Saturday, December 10, 2011
My son was born at 26 weeks, and I EPed for the 70 days he was in the NICU. When he came home at about 36 weeks gestational age, I was determined to breastfeed. A couple things helped with me.

1) I used a special needs feeder by Medela (the sell them on Amazon) to help teach him proper sucking techniques. It only allows milk to flow when the baby actually sucks (unlike a bottle that will constantly drip), so I think it helped "train" him to breastfeed. Here’s the link, but you can buy them cheaper than this.


2) I used ultra-slow flow nipples after I went back to work. Our NICU did a study to understand which nipples are the slowest flow, and they figured out it was the Similac Slow Flow nipples. They're sold as disposable, but you can wash and reuse them. We bought a case of 50, and we still have a bunch left. Here’s the link.

3) I used a nipple shield. That helped my son get milk when he was very tiny. After awhile, though, I felt like it was actually hindering his ability to get milk. I had to use a very small size for his tiny milk, and it hurt my nipple. I also think it sort of constricted the flow.

I just gradually increased the number of feedings I did by breast. My son was in the NICU so long that he came home on a pretty regimented 3-hour schedule. He'd take bottles at 3, 6, 9, and 12. the nursing didn't replace the bottles 1:1 (I usually had to nurse more often than I would have had to give bottles), so I'd allocate time periods where I would only nurse and not give bottles. So, at first, I'd nurse between 12pm and 3pm every day (replacing 2 bottles). Then I'd extend it to 6pm. Then 9pm. By that point, he was strong enough where he was nursing well, so we just went cold turkey to nursing, and we never looked back.

My son is still nursing at 10.5 months, and he's always gotten breastmilk. I went back to pumping when I went back to work, but it sure was nice to have a little while where we could just nurse on demand.
Tuesday, November 29, 2011

When you’re struggling to produce milk early, you’ll quickly learn the value of spilt milk and likely cry over it, too. Here are some tips from the ladies of The Bump to help pick you up and get back on track.

·         Every drop counts. If you produce one drop your 3rd try they will feed it to your baby and make you feel like the champ you are! Use a syringe to gather those first drops.

·         You must establish your supply ASAP! Pump 8-10 times per day without fail – once you have a steady supply many of us drop to 6-8 times with a six hour solid sleep stretch at night.

·         Take pictures of your milk lined up each day. Your supply is increasing but it helps to document it with a visual aid.

·         Look at pictures or video of LO while pumping.

·         Have a support system in place. Whether it’s family, friends, or an online group like The Bump – it’s essential to surviving the pump and establishing your supply.

·         Practice hand expression.

·         Set up your pump area at home so you have somewhere comfortable to sit. Always have water on hand. Snacks, books, magazines, laptop, Netflix, Hulu…you’ll be there a lot!

·         Consider renting a pump from the hospital. They are the best and you’ll produce more.

·         Buy (or make DIY-style) a hands-free double pump.

·         Do kangaroo-care (skin to skin) as much as possible while in NICU and when LO comes home.

·         Ask to do non-nutritive breastfeeding as soon as possible. Pump right before feeding baby so they won’t be overwhelmed and can practice latching.

·         Tip for moms of multiples: if one baby is a good BF’er and one isn't, continue with the one that is because it will help your supply, which is key. Eventually, the other should pick it up and if not, that is ok too.

·         Try different holds and positions! From what I’ve heard often the side-lying position can be the golden ticket – easy on you and baby! Your LO will prefer a hold and probably a nipple so make your way around the different combinations while giving LO a chance to lead you.

·         Don’t be afraid to use a nipple shield if your LC recommends it. Once LO is BF’ing you can work on weaning him from it. Whatever you decide remember consistency is key. Nipple confusion is real! NICU babies are often too small to latch without a shield.

·         Other nipples! You’ll want the slowest flowing nipples possible. A good suggestion is the Medela Special Feeder.

·         If you’re nervous LO isn’t getting enough once home head into your pediatrician and/or BF’ing center to weigh them pre/post feeds.

·         Consider a holistic approach: Fenugreek and Blessed Thistle.

·         Eat oatmeal or other high-carb foods.

·         Ask your doctor about prescription-strength aids and if they think that’s the right path for your situation.

·         POWER PUMP! I (Stephanie) didn’t know there was an actual method to this, so once my milk came in I’d pump 45-90 minutes solid once/twice a day to really kick up my supply. Here is the proper way to power pump thanks to Katie! Power pumping is pumping at the same time of day for an hour. Not an hour straight. It is an hour total. 10 mins on and 10 mins off for an hour. It is supposed to simulate cluster feeding which babies do at night before bed or when they are gearing up for a growth spurt. You'll need to do it for about 3-5 days to see a real boost.

·         Remember, you’re drinking for two!

·         Keep up a good diet. Freezer foods are helpful so if someone offers – take it! Keep snacks around the home and in your bag for on-the-go.

·         One mother suggested researching what a real latch looks like on YouTube.

·         The mess can wait! Put housework on hold and just focus on pumping/BF’ing right now.

·         Relax! If you’re nervous or anxious you won’t let down. One mom wrote that she had to turn the pump on for the familiar sound of it when it came to starting to BF at home with her DD.

In the end, it's practice that makes perfect. Give your LO every chance possible.


Precious and priceless so lovable too, the world’s sweetest littlest miracle is, a baby like you.

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