It seems appropriate to me that October is Spina Bifida awareness month. Every year on October 25th I am catapulted back to my (former) OB's office and hearing the words "Spina Bifida" for the first time as they related to our unborn son. I can still hear the words as if it were yesterday ... “Ms. Hinson – I am so sorry, but your son has Spina Bifida and after reviewing your son’s ultrasounds we just don’t like what we see.” I listened carefully as my doctor began lots of sentences with “Henry will never, Henry may not and Henry just won't be able to ________ ”. What was I supposed to do with that? I didn't really know where to begin or what questions to ask. All I knew was that Henry was our child and we were going to fight for him, to love him and believe without any doubt that Henry’s life has purpose regardless of the "would nots". So I walked out of his office that day with tear stained cheeks and a mission to learn everything I could about this child we had been given.
So I did what "they" tell you not to do - I googled Spina Bifida. If you have ever tried to use
Google to deliver a diagnosis well then you know I was convinced Henry was going to be born with 3 heads, 12 fingers and may or may not have looked like a velociraptor. We'll blame that all on the hormones.
We were eventually invited to a playgroup with a local Spina Bifida organization and it was really remarkable, but what was so remarkable about it is that it was unremarkable. Parents were sitting around a table lamenting about the latest annoying theme song to their child’s favorite show, a mother was talking about how she had just purchased new shoes for her son only to watch him out grow them 3 weeks later, they talked about their summer vacation plans and their daughter’s latest doctor’s appointment.
As I listened to them I watched their children laughing and playing around the perimeter of the room. These kids were doing all the things that doctor had told us just weeks before Henry would never do.
Being in that room that day with that group of parents and their children gave me the greatest gift for Henry. They gave me an attitude adjustment because it became very clear to me watching these children and listening to their parents that doctors can be wrong. Yes, he has Spina Bifida, but Spina Bifida is never going to be the coolest thing about Henry Hinson.
Henry is almost 3 now and the learning curve has been steep for Nathan and me for sure. The day Henry was born I didn’t just gain the title of Henry’s mom, I became Henry’s nurse, his advocate, and got a crash course in medical school.
He has had a total of 13 surgeries (number 14 is scheduled for Oct. 29), 27 plus trips to the Emergency Department, 20 hospitalizations, and countless visits to see his pediatrician above and beyond what would be standard; my husband and I have a running joke with Henry’s pediatrician, that room number 3 is the Hinson timeshare. So if ever you take your kids to KCMA Breckenridge ask for room number 3 and the visit is on us!
I know this sounds like a lot, and believe me some days it is, but I don’t tell you all of this to make you feel sorry for us because most days my family is living life like just like your family. Having Henry has just meant that we adjusted to a new normal; we live our lives around cathing schedules, doctors’ appointments, and trips up and down I-71. Yes we spend a lot of time at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, but because of that we also get to spend a lot of time at IKEA and eating Dewey’s pizza!
Please don’t miss what I said -- I said we are living our lives. We are laughing, we are finding joy in watching our boys become brothers, we watch Oliver make Henry laugh so hard we have to take Henry into the next room so he can catch his breath, and we celebrate milestones like you wouldn't believe.
Having a child who has Spina Bifida hasn't turned me into some superhero mom. Most days I am like any other mom raising two boys, my feet hurt, I have dirt in my hair, ketchup stains on my brand new white shirt and I probably ate a cold dinner. Some nights I get to my pillow and I think somewhere in the ceiling there should be confetti cannons going off and a cheering squad chanting “you did it sister, you did it! You made it through this DAY!!!”
Henry is a happy little boy who is figuring life out and adapting where he needs too. He isn’t walking quite yet, but he wheels around in his ZipZac wheelchair like he is Mario Andretti looking for a checkered flag, he goes to a normal preschool and learns like everyone else in his class, he is even learning to throw tantrums when he doesn’t get his way.
People often ask me if I had the opportunity what would I say to that doctor now? Well I think I would tell him that with new advancements in medical technology, new therapy techniques, protocols, and advances in surgical procedures there is no room for the small mindedness of delivering the diagnoses the same way it was delivered 60 years ago. These advancements are making it possible for those living with Spina Bifida to have full active lives. They can run on a cross country teams, they can become lawyers, or a XGames celebrity because they can do big tricks in their “wheels”, they can dance, they can sing, they can become doctors, professors, mountain climbers... they can do this because they can and will go #beyondlimits.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
We're walking through, people!
I posted this earlier today on facebook and wanted to also share it here and expand it a bit...
With the sad heartbreaking news of the death of actor Robin Williams there have been lots of conversations in the last few days on our radio stations, TV stations and on social media about depression and mental illness in general. I firmly believe that as a community we need to be talking about these issues more often. I think we are not so good at helping people who face or deal with mental illness…there is often a rush to help when someone has just found out they have cancer or they have had a heart attack, but dear me you've just been diagnosed with bipolar disorder or depression or anxiety… we can’t help you or maybe it's just that we don't know how to help you, so we aren't going to do or say anything.
There have been any number of things that have happened in the last 2 years that have caused me to struggle with anxiety. It’s been hard. I have been angry. I have been sad. I have been overwhelmed. I have been depressed. I have been anxious. So take a little walk with me for a second because #thisistheface ...
I struggled a great deal with the Lord during a particular season of my life where I couldn't make sense of the feelings I was having. I couldn't understand how as a follower of Jesus I could keep trying to choose joy, but it felt like, at times, joy wasn't choosing me. And then one afternoon I was reading through Psalms and landed on Psalms 23.
“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
And then it was as if the Lord hit me upside the head with a spiritual 2x4… I was going about this all the wrong way. I was trying to choose something that wasn't even a choice at that moment. Did you catch it? I made it bold because I didn't want you to miss my 2x4! "Even though I walk through..." Absolutely brilliant!
Never once did I hear the Lord say to me “choose joy, happiness, sunshine or rainbows”... He only ever asked me to choose Him. In the valley the Lord is my choice. And then slowly He picked me up and set me on my feet and then He began asking me to do something a little harder... He asked me to WALK THROUGH. To leave the place I was. To move forward. Which is not to undermine what I was dealing with, but I couldn't pitch my tent in the valley of anxiousness. I couldn't stay there. So that’s what I did; I started walking through the valley. I don't know what your valley is and sometimes the valleys may come for a day, a month or even years. When you're in the midst of something like this you may feel like there is no choice. I felt for time I didn't have any choices in the matter this was just the way it was, but then my 2x4 and I discovered that my choice, my only choice, is to walk through. Here me when I say this... it wasn't like I read a scripture and then jumped right up and sprinted out of that valley. No friends, there were days in the darkest of this valley that I could only muster one step, one tiny step, but the Lord met me with unwavering kindness.
If I just committed to walking through the valley a little each day He eventually picked up my pace and He carried me out. I was in counseling for several months and my counselor actually started asking me “how many steps did you take today” and it became this beautiful reminder that the Lord doesn't care if I have a smile plastered to my face or tears staining my cheeks it only matters that I choose Him.
Today was anxiety free, but things could change in an instant. I have equipped myself with education and a good therapist. So now I know if things start to feel more out of control than is necessary (hey I have 2 small children and never ending laundry there are areas of life that can be a little reckless) I can ask for help. I know where to turn for help.
So I am standing with my friend, Cory Dahlkamp, in the #thisistheface campaign because I think it's important that as a community we talk about these things. We must talk about mental illness. We must be open and honest and loving. We may even have people in our lives at work, school, church or right next door that need a hand to hold while they're walking through. We need to make sure people know that it's ok. You're not alone in any of this.
It is never an easy place that God puts us in when He asks us to reveal the most vulnerable parts of us to the world, but I would encourage you to be brave and stand with me!
With the sad heartbreaking news of the death of actor Robin Williams there have been lots of conversations in the last few days on our radio stations, TV stations and on social media about depression and mental illness in general. I firmly believe that as a community we need to be talking about these issues more often. I think we are not so good at helping people who face or deal with mental illness…there is often a rush to help when someone has just found out they have cancer or they have had a heart attack, but dear me you've just been diagnosed with bipolar disorder or depression or anxiety… we can’t help you or maybe it's just that we don't know how to help you, so we aren't going to do or say anything.
There have been any number of things that have happened in the last 2 years that have caused me to struggle with anxiety. It’s been hard. I have been angry. I have been sad. I have been overwhelmed. I have been depressed. I have been anxious. So take a little walk with me for a second because #thisistheface ...
I struggled a great deal with the Lord during a particular season of my life where I couldn't make sense of the feelings I was having. I couldn't understand how as a follower of Jesus I could keep trying to choose joy, but it felt like, at times, joy wasn't choosing me. And then one afternoon I was reading through Psalms and landed on Psalms 23.
“Even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil, for you are with me; your rod and your staff, they comfort me.”
And then it was as if the Lord hit me upside the head with a spiritual 2x4… I was going about this all the wrong way. I was trying to choose something that wasn't even a choice at that moment. Did you catch it? I made it bold because I didn't want you to miss my 2x4! "Even though I walk through..." Absolutely brilliant!
Never once did I hear the Lord say to me “choose joy, happiness, sunshine or rainbows”... He only ever asked me to choose Him. In the valley the Lord is my choice. And then slowly He picked me up and set me on my feet and then He began asking me to do something a little harder... He asked me to WALK THROUGH. To leave the place I was. To move forward. Which is not to undermine what I was dealing with, but I couldn't pitch my tent in the valley of anxiousness. I couldn't stay there. So that’s what I did; I started walking through the valley. I don't know what your valley is and sometimes the valleys may come for a day, a month or even years. When you're in the midst of something like this you may feel like there is no choice. I felt for time I didn't have any choices in the matter this was just the way it was, but then my 2x4 and I discovered that my choice, my only choice, is to walk through. Here me when I say this... it wasn't like I read a scripture and then jumped right up and sprinted out of that valley. No friends, there were days in the darkest of this valley that I could only muster one step, one tiny step, but the Lord met me with unwavering kindness.
If I just committed to walking through the valley a little each day He eventually picked up my pace and He carried me out. I was in counseling for several months and my counselor actually started asking me “how many steps did you take today” and it became this beautiful reminder that the Lord doesn't care if I have a smile plastered to my face or tears staining my cheeks it only matters that I choose Him.
Today was anxiety free, but things could change in an instant. I have equipped myself with education and a good therapist. So now I know if things start to feel more out of control than is necessary (hey I have 2 small children and never ending laundry there are areas of life that can be a little reckless) I can ask for help. I know where to turn for help.
So I am standing with my friend, Cory Dahlkamp, in the #thisistheface campaign because I think it's important that as a community we talk about these things. We must talk about mental illness. We must be open and honest and loving. We may even have people in our lives at work, school, church or right next door that need a hand to hold while they're walking through. We need to make sure people know that it's ok. You're not alone in any of this.
It is never an easy place that God puts us in when He asks us to reveal the most vulnerable parts of us to the world, but I would encourage you to be brave and stand with me!
As many of you know I love a good song... and you also know I love the band Carrollton and they released the official lyric video of their new song Holding On To You today. Ya'll this happened today, TODAY, as all of this stuff is bubbling up in my soul they release this video, today... care to guess what it is about? Coincidence? I think not -- God is shaking things up.
Because even in the darkest valleys we walk through the sun is gonna rise once again.
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
Here we go.
So it’s been a long time since I have written a blog. A long
time. I feel a little guilty about it only because writing is something I love
to do, but I also love having a clean house, clean kids and a healthy marriage
and a good night’s sleep so unfortunately this blog has taken a hiatus while my
family has gotten busy living this life that the Lord has blessed us with.
I had really hoped when I was able to start this post
that I would be using this as a “catch
up on the Hinsons post”, but there is other news to share.
As many of you know (through facebook) Henry had a shunt
malfunction 2 days before Christmas and was in fact in the operating room on
Christmas Eve. Henry had an MRI early that day that clearly showed his shunt
was failing. The ventricles
in his brain were enlarged and his syrinx, a fluid
filled cavity in the spinal cord, had
nearly tripled in size. A large syrinx
is not a good thing, but more on that later. The hope was that when they
replaced the shunt parts and it was working again that all of this would take
care of itself. We had a follow-up MRI on Monday and the
results were mixed. His ventricles are back to baseline and look really good.
His syrinx, however, is continuing to get larger and spread up the spinal cord.
A syrinx is not a medical condition that happens on its own.
It is however the result of an obstruction to the way that Henry’s Cerebrospinal fluid
(CSF) flows. In Henry’s case he was born with something called a Chiari
II Malformation. Which means that part of his brain grew down into the
brain stem during development. We have been very blessed that Henry has not had problems with his Chiari, as it can cause breathing issues, feeding
issues, hearing issues, etc., but it is causing the syrinx. So the way they
will finally rid Henry of this pesky syrinx is to decompress his Chiari.
Henry has been scheduled for Chiari Decompression surgery on
Friday.
This is not a simple surgery, but then again what surgery is
simple? They will be operating at the base of his skull. The surgery involves
removing the
lamina (bone) from at least the first two vertebrae. The reason they do
this to correct the syrinx is that it will create more space so the CSF
has the ability to flow as it should naturally and not force itself into
Henry’s spinal cord. This surgery is something we were really hoping to avoid;
and his doctors have been keeping a close eye on the development of the syrinx
over the course of Henry’s first year and there really isn’t another option. If
left untreated we are talking about serious spinal cord damage as a result of
the force of the fluid on the nerves in the spinal cord. Henry will be in the operating room for 4 to
5 hours. Once the surgery is complete
Henry will be in the PICU for at least 24 hours, but realistically it will probably
be 48 hour stay in the PICU. Henry is almost a year old now and how he
understands and experiences pain is very different than when he had his closure
surgery at 17 hours old or even with his shunt surgeries. He will be on a pain
pump as well as some heavy duty muscle relaxers and once they see that he is
doing well they will move us out of the PICU and we will spend a few more days
on the neuro floor. Realistically we are looking at 5 to 7 days in the hospital.
I have committed to being honest about
our family's journey with Spina Bifida and if you will allow me a moment of
sincere honesty … this sucks. My heart hurts just thinking about what Henry is
about to experience. I know without a doubt that we have made the right
decision for Henry, but there are so many raw
emotions that accompany things like this that if I allowed myself too I could
fall into depression, I could fall into anger, I could fall into fear, but I am
choosing every moment, with every breath, to fall into Jesus.
I think I have talked here before just how much my soul is fed by music. When I had to relocate right before Henry was born it was my great fortune to be able to worship with dear friends at Center Point Christian Church, which is the church home of a few of the members of the Carrollton Band. I have long be a fan of their music, but on this particular night I heard a song of theirs that I hadn't heard before called Holding Me. That night it blessed me to my core and it has become one of my favorite songs. It has also become a go to song of mine in times where I need to be reminded that Henry is firmly in the hands of Jesus.
The last few verses of the song will be my anthem over the course of the next few days. I will sing these words in the waiting room, I will sing these words at Henry's bedside, and they will be a constant reminder that the Lord, who does ALL things, is holding us firmly and tightly in His hands.
You are the one who walks on water
You are the one that calms the seas
You are the one that holds the Heavens
And I believe you are holding me.
You're the one who bring the morning
Fills the sky with Majesty
Lord you're the one who holds the heavens
And I believe you're holding me
Lord I believe you are holding me.
*Shameless plug you can pre-order the bands Breath In Deep EP on their website. I promise it will bless your socks off!
How to pray...
No doubt I believe that the scriptures are true when 1 John 5 tells us "And this is the confidence that we have toward him, that if we ask anything according to his will he hears us. And if we know that he hears us in whatever we ask, we know that we have the requests that we have asked of him."
- Pray for Henry. Pray that he is not fearful. That his pain would be manageable and that through all of this he will still be able to smile that big smile that melts the hearts of many.
- Pray for Henry's team. From his Neurosurgery team down to the food service employees. These people do unbelievable things with technique and technology every day. I am grateful for these people.
- Pray for results. Pray that this surgery will do what it needs to do in removing the fluid from his spinal cord and that we will see remarkable results and no further surgical intervention.
- Pray for Oliver. Once again we are shuffling up his normal routine and that takes a toll on his little heart. We have tried to explain all of this to him in a way that he can understand, but these are big concepts for a 3-year-old and all he knows is that his mom and little brother are going to be gone for what seems like a really long time.
- Pray for Nathan. He will be able to be up in Cincinnati just through Sunday and then he will come back home to resume a "normal" schedule with Oliver. I can't imagine the worry that comes from having his family in two places for longer than a day in his role as protector and provider.
- Pray for me. Living in a hospital is hard, pray that the Lord will bring me encouragement when I need it. Pray that as a family we would be usable by God should He see a need to use us to bless or encourage someone else while we are staying at CCHMC
- Pray for provision. I used my last vacation day to take Henry to his MRI appointment. So while we know that God will provide for our every need there is some financial stress that comes along with me taking unpaid leave.
- Pray for our parents. They will be filling in the gap while we are gone. My parents and Nathan's parents go through a whole different roller coaster as they watch their children go through heartache and watch their grandchild go through something this big.
- Pray that there are no significant weather events. I mean mother nature is crazy these days.
We love you all so very much and we are grateful for each and every one of you that take time out of your busy lives to pray for us, encourage us, to love us and to walk with us.
"You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the LORD will be with you.’” 2 Chronicles 20:17
- Erin
Sunday, April 28, 2013
Out in Public.
So this past Thursday I got brave. Real brave -- and decided to take Oliver and Henry out by myself for the first time. We went to a place in Louisville that Oliver loves called All About Kids I figured it would be the easiest place to take them by myself since I could wear Henry and then Oliver would be well entertained by the bouncy houses and the open gym.
Everything went pretty well, with the exception of a few questions about "the thing on Henry's head" -- but more on that in a minute, until it was almost time to go. I love my boys but this tag team business started way earlier than I had anticipated. Henry decided in grand fashion to have the nastiest diaper explosion of his life at the very same time Oliver decided to have a melt down of epic proportions because it was time to leave. Once I got Henry cleaned up and Oliver happy with some juice I started looking for my keys. I tore through the diaper bag and those blasted keys were no where to be found. I hate that feeling. Sheer panic started to set in. What in the world was I going to do? How were we going to get home? My Kroger plus card had enough points for 30 cents off the gallon -- and now it's with my keys in the land of lost!
So I put everything back in the diaper bag and we found our way to the front desk. At this point I had myself so worried that we were going to be stranded that the woman behind the counter looked at me with such pity. I am pretty sure  my eyes were welling up with tears, alas, no one had turned in any keys. Please keep in mind I had taken Henry out of our ergo baby carrier so I had it, our diaper bag which is a back pack, Henry and Oliver somehow with just my two hands. I am sure it was a sight. We headed to the car praying that my keys were locked inside of it and to my surprise they were not locked in the car because the car wasn't locked. My keys were still in the ignition. Oh. My. Word. I had left my keys in the ignition for a little over 2 hours. Here I was thinking I had this whole mom of 2 children thing down pretty well. Humble pie much? Thankfully we were in a safe part of town where no one was interested in stealing my cheerio and gold fish laced sedan.
So the biggest take away of the day is to always-- ALWAYS-- put the keys in the diaper bag before I get anyone out of the car no matter the whining, the rush or the smell. But the other thing that I took away from our outing is that being Henry's mom also requires me to be an educator. It is something that I have been praying about since Henry's birth and had been anticipating/dreading the day that it would happen. Henry's shunt and the tubing that accompanies it is very noticeable right now because Henry has no hair and, while he is a chubster, his head has little fat to disguise or hide the valves. I want to handle the questions that people have about Henry with as much grace as possible. Most of the mothers we encountered while at All About Kids didn't ask anything; they just stared at him and at me which I almost think is worse. I assure you it is extremely difficult to remain graceful when another mother looks at you and then points to your child and says "what's that on his head?" Trying not to give it too much thought I dove right in to why Henry has a shunt and what Spina Bifida is. I would give them a few sentences and then if they had more questions I went where they wanted to take the conversation.
Once people know what the shunt it all about they either become more curious about Spina Bifida than I would have thought or they talk about their second cousin on their mother's side that dealt with Spina Bifida 25 years ago. But I feel like all anyone really wants to know about Henry is "well can he walk?" Let me just throw this out there ... I have never met a 2-month-old that can walk. :) I know people will have questions and I know that they won't always know how best to ask them so it is my hope and prayer that as our family becomes ambassadors for Spina Bifida that we do it well. I found this verse a few weeks ago and after our little outing it's a scripture that I believe needs to go in the "stack to be memorized". It's a good reminder that whatever our speech it must be with grace.
"Let your speech always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt, so that you will know how you should respond to each person" Colossians 4:6
I mean aside from our little diaper explosion, melt down and lost keys extravaganza it was a pretty good trip and it severed well as a way to completely exhaust both my children. Oliver from bouncing all over the place and Henry from being on stimulation overload with all the lights and sounds of toddlers running around. Oh what an adventure it is going to be to be the mother of these two boys.
On the way home I captured this great video of Oliver trying desperately to stay awake and eat his snack, but in the end sleep won out and it was hilarious.
-Erin-
Everything went pretty well, with the exception of a few questions about "the thing on Henry's head" -- but more on that in a minute, until it was almost time to go. I love my boys but this tag team business started way earlier than I had anticipated. Henry decided in grand fashion to have the nastiest diaper explosion of his life at the very same time Oliver decided to have a melt down of epic proportions because it was time to leave. Once I got Henry cleaned up and Oliver happy with some juice I started looking for my keys. I tore through the diaper bag and those blasted keys were no where to be found. I hate that feeling. Sheer panic started to set in. What in the world was I going to do? How were we going to get home? My Kroger plus card had enough points for 30 cents off the gallon -- and now it's with my keys in the land of lost!
So I put everything back in the diaper bag and we found our way to the front desk. At this point I had myself so worried that we were going to be stranded that the woman behind the counter looked at me with such pity. I am pretty sure  my eyes were welling up with tears, alas, no one had turned in any keys. Please keep in mind I had taken Henry out of our ergo baby carrier so I had it, our diaper bag which is a back pack, Henry and Oliver somehow with just my two hands. I am sure it was a sight. We headed to the car praying that my keys were locked inside of it and to my surprise they were not locked in the car because the car wasn't locked. My keys were still in the ignition. Oh. My. Word. I had left my keys in the ignition for a little over 2 hours. Here I was thinking I had this whole mom of 2 children thing down pretty well. Humble pie much? Thankfully we were in a safe part of town where no one was interested in stealing my cheerio and gold fish laced sedan.
So the biggest take away of the day is to always-- ALWAYS-- put the keys in the diaper bag before I get anyone out of the car no matter the whining, the rush or the smell. But the other thing that I took away from our outing is that being Henry's mom also requires me to be an educator. It is something that I have been praying about since Henry's birth and had been anticipating/dreading the day that it would happen. Henry's shunt and the tubing that accompanies it is very noticeable right now because Henry has no hair and, while he is a chubster, his head has little fat to disguise or hide the valves. I want to handle the questions that people have about Henry with as much grace as possible. Most of the mothers we encountered while at All About Kids didn't ask anything; they just stared at him and at me which I almost think is worse. I assure you it is extremely difficult to remain graceful when another mother looks at you and then points to your child and says "what's that on his head?" Trying not to give it too much thought I dove right in to why Henry has a shunt and what Spina Bifida is. I would give them a few sentences and then if they had more questions I went where they wanted to take the conversation.
Once people know what the shunt it all about they either become more curious about Spina Bifida than I would have thought or they talk about their second cousin on their mother's side that dealt with Spina Bifida 25 years ago. But I feel like all anyone really wants to know about Henry is "well can he walk?" Let me just throw this out there ... I have never met a 2-month-old that can walk. :) I know people will have questions and I know that they won't always know how best to ask them so it is my hope and prayer that as our family becomes ambassadors for Spina Bifida that we do it well. I found this verse a few weeks ago and after our little outing it's a scripture that I believe needs to go in the "stack to be memorized". It's a good reminder that whatever our speech it must be with grace.
"Let your speech always be with grace, as though seasoned with salt, so that you will know how you should respond to each person" Colossians 4:6
I mean aside from our little diaper explosion, melt down and lost keys extravaganza it was a pretty good trip and it severed well as a way to completely exhaust both my children. Oliver from bouncing all over the place and Henry from being on stimulation overload with all the lights and sounds of toddlers running around. Oh what an adventure it is going to be to be the mother of these two boys.
On the way home I captured this great video of Oliver trying desperately to stay awake and eat his snack, but in the end sleep won out and it was hilarious.
-Erin-
Saturday, April 27, 2013
The Circus Train
When we moved into our home I wasn't sure how I would like having a double train track just behind the privacy fence. For the most part you get so used to the trains that sometimes you don't even realize they are there and I haven't had a train wake me up in the night for a good 6 months. But this week having train tracks in our backyard became cool for all of about 15 minutes as Oliver and I stood outside and literally watched the circus come to town.
I feel like seeing the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus Train in your backyard is a once in a lifetime thing so I did what any mother would do -- I woke Oliver up from his nap (I paid for it later) but we watched, and waved and we talked about Elephants and the "animal train" for the rest of the day.
I feel like seeing the Ringling Brothers and Barnum & Bailey Circus Train in your backyard is a once in a lifetime thing so I did what any mother would do -- I woke Oliver up from his nap (I paid for it later) but we watched, and waved and we talked about Elephants and the "animal train" for the rest of the day.
-Erin-
Sunday, April 14, 2013
North I-71...again.
Bringing Henry home was amazing; it was nothing like I could have imagined. I also couldn't imagine that just 4 days after returning home to my family Nathan and I would be headed back to Cincinnati.
-Erin-
To say I was frustrated about driving back up to Cincinnati is an understatement. 4 days we got to spend as a semi-normal family, just 4 days and it was heartbreaking to leave --again. For reasons unknown Henry's incision opened nearly 3 weeks post op. I have a pretty strong stomach when it comes to things that are considered gross but this was like nothing I had ever seen in my life and nothing a mother should ever see in her child. Thanks to modern technology I was able to send pictures to Henry's neurosurgeon and got a call within about 15 minutes of emailing the pictures and when I answered the phone he said "get in the car, now".
So Henry's neurosurgeon and a plastic surgeon took him back into the OR for a third time to revise his incision and we stayed inpatient for another 8 days. This hospital stay was VERY different. We didn't get to go back to the NICU we went to the neurosurgery floor which meant I didn't leave Henry alone -- ever. I slept, ate, showered, lived in his hospital room this time. I still think I am trying to catch up on the sleep I missed. Any one who has spent a night in a hospital will tell you that sleep is a sweet commodity; nurses coming in at all hours, waking up to feed and cath, taking showers at 2 am because you don't want doctors doing rounds at 6am to see you in your pajamas looking like a crazy woman become totally normal. Unlike the anticipation of bringing Henry the home the first time this time around I just felt so discouraged.
This post would be a complete lie if I didn't acknowledge that there were several moments of this stay that I tried throwing myself a pity party. It wasn't fair. There was one night while Henry and I were there -- it was a Monday-- this particular night I was working on all the arrangements for said pity party and I remember just crying. Nathan had left the day before and I just felt helpless, alone and exhausted. I began asking, out loud, for the Lord to send me a sign that I wasn't alone in all of this. I needed to know that God had been hearing my prayers and that my son was going to be ok, that we were eventually going to get to go home and that some how He had not forgotten me-- that this was some how part of His plan.
I felt led to play some music while Henry was eating at some point late that night or early the next morning so I just hit "shuffle" on my phone and what happened next was nothing short of God showing up. I had heard the song "Sing Along" by Christy Nockels a hundred times before but never before had I HEARD it like I heard it that night.
I felt like a captive in that hospital room, I felt alone, it seemed dark but hearing this song on that night God gave me all that I needed. "From the farthest corners of the earth/ still His mercy reaches", I needed the Lord to sing to me that night, I needed to hear His heart, I needed a God sized hug, I needed to know that He had heard my cries and that He would give me the strength to keep singing and to sing along to His song. 5 minutes and 44 seconds was all I needed to be refreshed, refilled and the knowledge that indeed God hadn't forgotten us but that He was singing over us the entire time.
"The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17
This post would be a complete lie if I didn't acknowledge that there were several moments of this stay that I tried throwing myself a pity party. It wasn't fair. There was one night while Henry and I were there -- it was a Monday-- this particular night I was working on all the arrangements for said pity party and I remember just crying. Nathan had left the day before and I just felt helpless, alone and exhausted. I began asking, out loud, for the Lord to send me a sign that I wasn't alone in all of this. I needed to know that God had been hearing my prayers and that my son was going to be ok, that we were eventually going to get to go home and that some how He had not forgotten me-- that this was some how part of His plan.
I felt led to play some music while Henry was eating at some point late that night or early the next morning so I just hit "shuffle" on my phone and what happened next was nothing short of God showing up. I had heard the song "Sing Along" by Christy Nockels a hundred times before but never before had I HEARD it like I heard it that night.
I felt like a captive in that hospital room, I felt alone, it seemed dark but hearing this song on that night God gave me all that I needed. "From the farthest corners of the earth/ still His mercy reaches", I needed the Lord to sing to me that night, I needed to hear His heart, I needed a God sized hug, I needed to know that He had heard my cries and that He would give me the strength to keep singing and to sing along to His song. 5 minutes and 44 seconds was all I needed to be refreshed, refilled and the knowledge that indeed God hadn't forgotten us but that He was singing over us the entire time.
"The Lord your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. He will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing.” Zephaniah 3:17
Saturday, April 13, 2013
Home.
On March 14, 2013 we received Henry's discharge papers. We knew the day before that the following morning in rounds they would give us the all clear but we didn't tell anyone but a few family members because if I learned anything in the NICU it's that you take it a day at a time and I didn't want to tell the world we were coming home until Henry was buckled into his car seat.
Rounds always started around 7:30 in the NICU and I wanted to be there for Henry's last rounds and I am so glad I was. If you have never experienced rounds before -- it's something. There can be up to 12 doctors and therapist that come around with their computers on stands and review each baby. Though out our stay in the NICU we called them the "MD Calvary" because that's exactly what it looked like. The resident "presents" Henry to the attending doctors and they talk over every single aspect of his case, his condition, his recovery right down to his big brother's name. Thinking about Henry's last rounds still brings tears to my eyes. Hearing "If there are no other questions then Henry Hinson is cleared for discharge and is to be released this morning to his mom and dad... ladies and gentleman of the G-pod, Henry Hinson is going home!" Then anyone that was within ear shot clapped and I of course cried.
Henry had never been off the monitors, had never been more then a few feet from a trained nurse or doctor, God love him the boy had never even worn pants before and now, just like that, we were taking him home. It seemed so surreal to watch the elevators doors close and realize that Henry was with me in the elevator wire free and buckled in a car seat. The first major chapter of Henry's story was ending and it was a wee bit terrifying to think I had never spent a full 24 hours with this little guy and we were about to dive head first into a life of 2 am feedings, endless diaper changes, life with two kids, and he would be free of monitors, nurses, doctors.
We were headed south on I-71 roughly 80 miles to the land of a new normal.
After an hour and a half in the car we pulled into our drive way the sun seeemed to be shinning so brightly that day. Oliver had been napping so when we got home I was able to go into his room and wake him up. His little first was full of excitement and a little confusion because I had been gone for 5 weeks, so who knows what he was actually thinking when he saw me. Oliver wasn't able to see anything more than pictures of Henry so we had no idea how he would react. I don't even have the words to describe their first meeting -- just joy. Watching Oliver meet Henry for the first time is a moment that I will spend an eternity praising the Lord for.
I am so thankful that my mother-in-law and that my very talented friend Whitney of Whitney Knutson Photography were there to capture the moment on video and amazing pictures so that the boys will have that moment forever.
Welcome home, Henry. (YouTube Video)
-Erin-
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
17 Days
17 days... that's how long Henry was in the NICU
at Cincinnati Children's Hospital. While in the midst of our stay in
the NICU it seemed like it was never going to end but now on this side of it I
found myself saying we were "only there for 17 days". There are
babies that arrived in the NICU weeks before Henry and they are probably still
there. I had no idea what to expect of the stay in the NICU but I can tell you
our stay in the NICU was nothing like I assumed it would be. I will never
forget what it was like being in the NICU for 17 days. The sights, the sounds,
the smell the experience is burned in my memory forever.
The first time I
saw Henry in the NICU it hurt my heart to leave and head back to the hospital
where I was still working on recovery but each day it got a little easier and a
little easier. We would stay for a few hours at a time, take a break and then
go back for a few more hours. I think the thing that made it easy for me to
leave Henry were the nurses. These woman (and men, although Henry never did get
a male nurse in the NICU) come along side of your family in the midst of the
chaos and they provide stability they provide guidance. I felt a great
sense of peace when I would walk away from Henry's bedside each night because I
knew he was being cared for by people who cared about him. I cannot
speak enough about the Doctors, Residents, Fellows and Nurses that followed
Henry while in the NICU they made our stay a little less anxious.
Next to bringing
Henry home the greatest thing I walked away from the NICU with was a new
perspective. Simply put: Henry just has Spina Bifida. I never thought I would
get to the point so quickly in this journey where I would find myself
thanking the Lord for Spina Bifida. But when you spend 17 days looking around
the NICU and you see babies that weigh little more than a bag of potatoes and
they have tubes coming from every nuke and cranny of their tinny
bodies, it changes you. You can't walk away from the experience unchanged - you
just can't. You go into it not knowing what to expect but leaving with a huge
dose of humility. You see other mothers sitting in the waiting room with what
looks to be the weight of the world on their shoulders because they've just
been told there may be no hope. Or you see babies without their mothers because
they have been flown in from other cities, states, and even countries. You hear alarms going off and nurses who go
running into other pods and you find yourself just humbled before the eyes of
the Lord.
I spent 17 days
sitting in the NICU praying for healing over my son but finding myself also
praying for healing and hope for each of the families I met while there. I know
there are always going to be people who will look at our life and think "I
don't know how they do it - it must be so hard." I know there are going to
be hard days, hard conversations, waiting rooms, hospital rooms, MRI images and
words that are too big for me to comprehend or spell, but it is my prayer that
I would always ALWAYS be able to check my attitude at the door because it's
just Spina Bifida. I was able to bring Henry home- not every mother that leaves
the NICU has that opportunity.
"Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, 2 then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. 3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others." Philippians 2:1-4
"Therefore if you have any encouragement from being united with Christ, if any comfort from his love, if any common sharing in the Spirit, if any tenderness and compassion, 2 then make my joy complete by being like-minded, having the same love, being one in spirit and of one mind. 3 Do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit. Rather, in humility value others above yourselves,4 not looking to your own interests but each of you to the interests of the others." Philippians 2:1-4
Sunday, March 24, 2013
Surgery # 2
We knew after Henry's MM closer surgery that the likely hood that he would develop hydrocephalus (hydro for short) that would need to be controlled by a shunt was about 90%. Before the closer surgery Henry's body was processing cerebrospinal fluid through the opening in his back, once it was closed the excese fluid had no where to go so it started building up around Henry's brain causing the ventricles in his brain to swell.
Each day after Henry's MM closer you could see his head getting a little bigger, a little softer, and you could see he was opening his eyes less and less and eventually the pressure build up was causing Henry to have breathing problems. So they had to put him back on oxygen. It was 10 days after Henry's arrival into this world that his neurosurgeon decided a shunt needed to be installed so I watched them wheel him back into the OR for a second time. I don't care how minor the procedure or how long your child is back in an OR it is still an agonizing feeling when the nurse says "this is where you have to give your hugs an kisses".
During the 2 hour surgery Henry's neurosurgeon placed the shunt in the right lateral ventricle of Henry's brain. Henry has 3 incisions from the installation of a shunt; 2 on his head and one on his belly. The shunt sits in the ventricle and has a mechanism that essentially functions like a dam for the cerebrospinal fluid; the tube continues down the side his head, behind his ear and then eventually ends up in his stomach where the excess cerebrospinal fluid is absorbed by his body.
You could almost instantly see the change in Henry's head once the pressure was under control with the help of the shunt and each day since you can see his head decreasing in size. If I am being honest Henry's shunt makes me extremely nervous, but when you here that 85% of them fail with in the first year I guess you get the right to be nervous. My prayer is that Henry's shunt will work and that a revision isn't needed until he is older and the tube in his belly needs to be longer.
As a mom you hate hearing the words "not if his shunt fails, but when it fails...". But I also know that I can't live in fear of his shunt failing. It would be very easy for me to cling to those words and be hypervigilant in looking for signs that his shunt is failing but if I allow myself to always be looking for what's going to go wrong next I will miss the moments right in front of me. Which I think is true in other aspects of life not just when it comes to my child and his VP Shunt. I know the warning signs, I know what to look for but I need not to worry my days away with every sigh, sound or look he gives me.
And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? Luke 12:25
-Erin-
Each day after Henry's MM closer you could see his head getting a little bigger, a little softer, and you could see he was opening his eyes less and less and eventually the pressure build up was causing Henry to have breathing problems. So they had to put him back on oxygen. It was 10 days after Henry's arrival into this world that his neurosurgeon decided a shunt needed to be installed so I watched them wheel him back into the OR for a second time. I don't care how minor the procedure or how long your child is back in an OR it is still an agonizing feeling when the nurse says "this is where you have to give your hugs an kisses".
During the 2 hour surgery Henry's neurosurgeon placed the shunt in the right lateral ventricle of Henry's brain. Henry has 3 incisions from the installation of a shunt; 2 on his head and one on his belly. The shunt sits in the ventricle and has a mechanism that essentially functions like a dam for the cerebrospinal fluid; the tube continues down the side his head, behind his ear and then eventually ends up in his stomach where the excess cerebrospinal fluid is absorbed by his body.
You could almost instantly see the change in Henry's head once the pressure was under control with the help of the shunt and each day since you can see his head decreasing in size. If I am being honest Henry's shunt makes me extremely nervous, but when you here that 85% of them fail with in the first year I guess you get the right to be nervous. My prayer is that Henry's shunt will work and that a revision isn't needed until he is older and the tube in his belly needs to be longer.
As a mom you hate hearing the words "not if his shunt fails, but when it fails...". But I also know that I can't live in fear of his shunt failing. It would be very easy for me to cling to those words and be hypervigilant in looking for signs that his shunt is failing but if I allow myself to always be looking for what's going to go wrong next I will miss the moments right in front of me. Which I think is true in other aspects of life not just when it comes to my child and his VP Shunt. I know the warning signs, I know what to look for but I need not to worry my days away with every sigh, sound or look he gives me.
And which of you by being anxious can add a single hour to his span of life? Luke 12:25
-Erin-
Tuesday, March 12, 2013
A Day of Firsts
Tuesday March 5 was a big day for me!
Holding Henry
For the first time on Tuesday March 5 I was able to hold Henry. Because he is required to be side laying or on his stomach the way they have to position him for us to be able to hold him means he has to lay right on your stomach/lap. Having just had a c-section it had just not been feasible for me to hold him comfortably because the weight of our chunky monkey was too much on my incision.
Not being able to hold Henry for almost a week was more emotional than I thought it would be. I don't really have the words to describe what it was like to hold Henry for the first time, so rather than elaborate with words what it was like, I will let a picture do the talking for me.
Catheterizing
Henry was born with a perfectly healthy urinary tract system. Because the bladder requires functional nerves in the lower spine (sacral spinal cord) in order to have control over urination only about 5 to 10% of children with spina bifida have normal urinary control and are able void spontaneously. The nerves in Henry's lower spine does have some level of paralysis. Because of the location of Henry's Spina Bifida his brain is unable to communicate to his bladder that it's time to potty. These nerves sense bladder fullness and transmit this message to the brain. In order for Henry's bladder and kidney's to remain healthy we have to catheterize him. Which means a small, sterile, plastic tube is inserted into Henry's bladder to help him void urine.
When Nathan and I chose to have Henry's care handled by the team at Cincinnati Children's Hospital we knew that their urology department was very strict about cathing children with spina bifida early and often to prevent long term damage to the kidneys. I would say that secondary to Henry's surgical procedures this was the thing I worried about the most. Some days it would consume my thoughts when I would read about incontinence in children with Spina Bifida. And not for the reasons that one might assume. I was worried about hurting him. I am clearly not any type of medical professional so doing something like catheterizing my child freaked me out.
But as with many things in life learning to cath Henry was a teachable moment. I worried myself silly about this aspect of Henry's life and when the moment came I thought to myself: "really that's it--that's all I have to do?" My dad tells me all the time that the things I worry about never happen. Here I am just knowing that I am going to poke hole in my child or give him some deadly infection because I'm not a nurse but honestly it was EASY! And now I am pretty much a professional. How often I do this with other things in my life?!? The place that worry takes me is so far beyond what actually happens that you would think that I would have learned by now that worry gets me no where.
So all in all, March 5, 2013 will forever be remembered as a good day for this mama.
-Erin-
Holding Henry
For the first time on Tuesday March 5 I was able to hold Henry. Because he is required to be side laying or on his stomach the way they have to position him for us to be able to hold him means he has to lay right on your stomach/lap. Having just had a c-section it had just not been feasible for me to hold him comfortably because the weight of our chunky monkey was too much on my incision.
Not being able to hold Henry for almost a week was more emotional than I thought it would be. I don't really have the words to describe what it was like to hold Henry for the first time, so rather than elaborate with words what it was like, I will let a picture do the talking for me.
Catheterizing
Henry was born with a perfectly healthy urinary tract system. Because the bladder requires functional nerves in the lower spine (sacral spinal cord) in order to have control over urination only about 5 to 10% of children with spina bifida have normal urinary control and are able void spontaneously. The nerves in Henry's lower spine does have some level of paralysis. Because of the location of Henry's Spina Bifida his brain is unable to communicate to his bladder that it's time to potty. These nerves sense bladder fullness and transmit this message to the brain. In order for Henry's bladder and kidney's to remain healthy we have to catheterize him. Which means a small, sterile, plastic tube is inserted into Henry's bladder to help him void urine.
When Nathan and I chose to have Henry's care handled by the team at Cincinnati Children's Hospital we knew that their urology department was very strict about cathing children with spina bifida early and often to prevent long term damage to the kidneys. I would say that secondary to Henry's surgical procedures this was the thing I worried about the most. Some days it would consume my thoughts when I would read about incontinence in children with Spina Bifida. And not for the reasons that one might assume. I was worried about hurting him. I am clearly not any type of medical professional so doing something like catheterizing my child freaked me out.
But as with many things in life learning to cath Henry was a teachable moment. I worried myself silly about this aspect of Henry's life and when the moment came I thought to myself: "really that's it--that's all I have to do?" My dad tells me all the time that the things I worry about never happen. Here I am just knowing that I am going to poke hole in my child or give him some deadly infection because I'm not a nurse but honestly it was EASY! And now I am pretty much a professional. How often I do this with other things in my life?!? The place that worry takes me is so far beyond what actually happens that you would think that I would have learned by now that worry gets me no where.
So all in all, March 5, 2013 will forever be remembered as a good day for this mama.
-Erin-
Thursday, March 7, 2013
Surgery # 1
Less than 24 hours after Henry's introduction in this world Nathan and my dad watched doctors and nurses wheel Henry back to the operating room for the first time. Henry was born with myelomeningocele (MM) at vertebrae L3/L4. Myelomeningocele in every day terms is known as spina bifida.
"Normally, during the first month of a pregnancy, the two sides of the spine (or backbone) join together to cover the spinal cord, spinal nerves and meninges (the tissues covering the spinal cord). Spina bifida refers to any birth defect involving incomplete closure of the spine.
Myelomeningocele is the most common type of spina bifida. It is a neural tube defect in which the bones of the spine do not completely form, resulting in an incomplete spinal canal. This causes the spinal cord and meninges (the tissues covering the spinal cord) to stick out of the child's back." Info taken from here.
While there have been great advancements in treating MM with fetal surgery, the standard of care for babies with spina bifida is repair at birth. To hear a surgeon talk about the MM closure is like receiving the recipe for a seven layer salad. I know that sounds really bizarre for me to compare Henry's surgery to a salad recipe but it's the only way I know to describe it. They are literally, for 2-3 hours, putting each layer of his spinal cord, meninges, the skin, etc. back in place.
The precision and execution of this surgery makes my brain hurt but I am so thankful that Henry has one of the best Neurosurgery teams in the country operating on him. I am sure if any medical expert were to read this blog they would be ashamed of the way I describe the MM closer but I am not a doctor, I am a mom and it's enough on any given day for me to remember how to even pronounce Myelomeningocele, let alone describe how Henry's neurosurgeon was putting his spinal cord back together.
Henry had his first surgery while I was still recovering from the c-section at a hospital that was a good 5 minute drive away. I guess waiting is waiting but it felt really bizarre to be so far away from your child during such an important time but later that evening I was given a pass and was able to see Henry for the first time since delivery. I never actually got to see first hand the opening in Henry's back but seeing it closed seemed like no big deal. He is now 8 days post-op from the closure procedure and he has only been able to lay on his stomach or side which makes holding him and feeding him a tad bit challenging, but we have managed.
His incision seems smaller and smaller every day. I look at it now and wonder what it will mean to Henry when he is old enough to understand all of this, but looking at it now by his bedside I am not sure it will be something that ever define who Henry is. If I have learned anything about spina bifida in the last 20 weeks of waiting to meet Henry it is that nothing is off limits. Doctors will place limits on his ability based off their experience but it takes just one wiggle of Henry's toes for those limits to have already been shattered.
Doctors have been encouraged at how quickly Henry has healed from the closure procedure and they are thrilled that he is eating upwards of 90ML (4oz) at every feeding which makes his doctors chuckle. Henry is not a young man who wants to miss a mea--he is about 3 times the size of most his neighbors in the NICU.
"As for God, His way is perfect; the word of the Lord is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him." 2 Samuel 22:31
Daily I find myself taking refuge in the word of Lord because sometimes the hospital words are long and the terminology is over my head and the monitors beep numbers I don't understand but I am always reminded that the Lord's way is a perfect one and for that I am grateful.
"Normally, during the first month of a pregnancy, the two sides of the spine (or backbone) join together to cover the spinal cord, spinal nerves and meninges (the tissues covering the spinal cord). Spina bifida refers to any birth defect involving incomplete closure of the spine.
Myelomeningocele is the most common type of spina bifida. It is a neural tube defect in which the bones of the spine do not completely form, resulting in an incomplete spinal canal. This causes the spinal cord and meninges (the tissues covering the spinal cord) to stick out of the child's back." Info taken from here.
While there have been great advancements in treating MM with fetal surgery, the standard of care for babies with spina bifida is repair at birth. To hear a surgeon talk about the MM closure is like receiving the recipe for a seven layer salad. I know that sounds really bizarre for me to compare Henry's surgery to a salad recipe but it's the only way I know to describe it. They are literally, for 2-3 hours, putting each layer of his spinal cord, meninges, the skin, etc. back in place.
The precision and execution of this surgery makes my brain hurt but I am so thankful that Henry has one of the best Neurosurgery teams in the country operating on him. I am sure if any medical expert were to read this blog they would be ashamed of the way I describe the MM closer but I am not a doctor, I am a mom and it's enough on any given day for me to remember how to even pronounce Myelomeningocele, let alone describe how Henry's neurosurgeon was putting his spinal cord back together.
Henry had his first surgery while I was still recovering from the c-section at a hospital that was a good 5 minute drive away. I guess waiting is waiting but it felt really bizarre to be so far away from your child during such an important time but later that evening I was given a pass and was able to see Henry for the first time since delivery. I never actually got to see first hand the opening in Henry's back but seeing it closed seemed like no big deal. He is now 8 days post-op from the closure procedure and he has only been able to lay on his stomach or side which makes holding him and feeding him a tad bit challenging, but we have managed.
His incision seems smaller and smaller every day. I look at it now and wonder what it will mean to Henry when he is old enough to understand all of this, but looking at it now by his bedside I am not sure it will be something that ever define who Henry is. If I have learned anything about spina bifida in the last 20 weeks of waiting to meet Henry it is that nothing is off limits. Doctors will place limits on his ability based off their experience but it takes just one wiggle of Henry's toes for those limits to have already been shattered.
Doctors have been encouraged at how quickly Henry has healed from the closure procedure and they are thrilled that he is eating upwards of 90ML (4oz) at every feeding which makes his doctors chuckle. Henry is not a young man who wants to miss a mea--he is about 3 times the size of most his neighbors in the NICU.
"As for God, His way is perfect; the word of the Lord is flawless. He is a shield for all who take refuge in Him." 2 Samuel 22:31
Daily I find myself taking refuge in the word of Lord because sometimes the hospital words are long and the terminology is over my head and the monitors beep numbers I don't understand but I am always reminded that the Lord's way is a perfect one and for that I am grateful.
 |
| Henry holding on to his paci and his zebra friend. |
Wednesday, February 27, 2013
He's Here!
Henry Jude Hinson was born on February 26, 2013 at 3:37pm. He weighs 9lbs 1oz and is 18.25 inches long. He is absolutely perfect!
God has a sense of humor and I sometimes feel as though he challenges me at every corner with said sense of humor. As many of you know my biggest weakness (I guess one of, as there are many...) is my desire to have total control of my environment. Anything monumentous that has happened in my life has not been without it's plan except for the births of my two children.
Henry's plan was that he would be delivered by c-section on Monday, March 4 at exactly 39 weeks. In my mind this was a great plan. I knew when it was coming and knew how much time I had to get ready only all that went by the wayside on Monday night. Monday night was a rough one. I "woke up" (I use quotations because I actually didn't sleep much at all Monday night) knowing that something wasn't right. I didn't feel good. I didn't feel like I should feel. But thankfully I had a neonatal stress test at 10:00 Tuesday morning so I knew that if something was wrong they would know and we would go from there. When I finally got hooked up to the NST monitors I was having contractions about 7-8 minutes a part. I drove myself to the hospital and was in labor and didn't even know it. I mean how dense does one person need to be? No wonder I didn't "feel well" I was having a baby! Keep in mind Nathan was in Louisville still because February 26 at 3:30pm was not in the plan.
Let me tell you contractions are for the BIRDS! I had never experienced any part of laboring before, and woman who do that all natural all the way, woo my hat is off to you! Around 1:00pm the maternal doctor came in and said "today was the day" and we were going to head into the OR around 2:30 so I needed to call my family and tell them to hit the road. I can't imagine what it was like for Nathan to get that call and to hurry around and drive an hour and half to get to me by 2:30. I will tell you he didn't make it at 2:30 but thankfully we weren't in an emergency situation so they waited for Nathan and just about 15 minutes later we heard Henry Jude for the first time. Much like hearing Oliver cry for the first time it was an amazing moment to think "we did it" holy cow we brought a human into this world. I remember them bringing him over to me and seeing his chubby cheeks but not much after that. I know at some point Henry and Nathan left for the NICU at Good Sam to get Henry ready for transport to Children's Hospital.
About 2 hours after Henry was born we said our goodbyes as he was taken to Children's Hospital and set up residence in their NICU. Like no other time in my life i was so thankful for medication that day. It made that goodbye much much easier.
Henry continues to do really well in his recovery. Doctors are watching the size of his ventricles closely as it is a good possibility that Henry is going to require a second surgery to place a shunt to help his body process the excess spinal fluid. He had another ultrasound of his head today and we are waiting to get those results. Again it's very likely Henry is going to need a shunt it's just a matter of when they insert it but it will probably be towards the end of next week.
We know that in all things God is in control and have been so encouraged by Henry's first few days here on this earth!
More now than ever before does Psalm 139 bring me great comfort... I know that as much as I already love this chunky monkey, the Father above loves him even more! God says so in His word: "For you created [Henry] in my inmost being: you knit [Henry] together in my womb. I praise you because [Henry] is fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. [Henry's] frame was not hidden from You when he was made in the secret place. When [Henry] was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw his unformed body. All the days ordained for him were written in your book before even one of them came to be."
All that to say that Henry is perfect in every way imaginable!
God has a sense of humor and I sometimes feel as though he challenges me at every corner with said sense of humor. As many of you know my biggest weakness (I guess one of, as there are many...) is my desire to have total control of my environment. Anything monumentous that has happened in my life has not been without it's plan except for the births of my two children.
Henry's plan was that he would be delivered by c-section on Monday, March 4 at exactly 39 weeks. In my mind this was a great plan. I knew when it was coming and knew how much time I had to get ready only all that went by the wayside on Monday night. Monday night was a rough one. I "woke up" (I use quotations because I actually didn't sleep much at all Monday night) knowing that something wasn't right. I didn't feel good. I didn't feel like I should feel. But thankfully I had a neonatal stress test at 10:00 Tuesday morning so I knew that if something was wrong they would know and we would go from there. When I finally got hooked up to the NST monitors I was having contractions about 7-8 minutes a part. I drove myself to the hospital and was in labor and didn't even know it. I mean how dense does one person need to be? No wonder I didn't "feel well" I was having a baby! Keep in mind Nathan was in Louisville still because February 26 at 3:30pm was not in the plan.
Let me tell you contractions are for the BIRDS! I had never experienced any part of laboring before, and woman who do that all natural all the way, woo my hat is off to you! Around 1:00pm the maternal doctor came in and said "today was the day" and we were going to head into the OR around 2:30 so I needed to call my family and tell them to hit the road. I can't imagine what it was like for Nathan to get that call and to hurry around and drive an hour and half to get to me by 2:30. I will tell you he didn't make it at 2:30 but thankfully we weren't in an emergency situation so they waited for Nathan and just about 15 minutes later we heard Henry Jude for the first time. Much like hearing Oliver cry for the first time it was an amazing moment to think "we did it" holy cow we brought a human into this world. I remember them bringing him over to me and seeing his chubby cheeks but not much after that. I know at some point Henry and Nathan left for the NICU at Good Sam to get Henry ready for transport to Children's Hospital.
About 2 hours after Henry was born we said our goodbyes as he was taken to Children's Hospital and set up residence in their NICU. Like no other time in my life i was so thankful for medication that day. It made that goodbye much much easier.
Henry continues to do really well in his recovery. Doctors are watching the size of his ventricles closely as it is a good possibility that Henry is going to require a second surgery to place a shunt to help his body process the excess spinal fluid. He had another ultrasound of his head today and we are waiting to get those results. Again it's very likely Henry is going to need a shunt it's just a matter of when they insert it but it will probably be towards the end of next week.
We know that in all things God is in control and have been so encouraged by Henry's first few days here on this earth!
More now than ever before does Psalm 139 bring me great comfort... I know that as much as I already love this chunky monkey, the Father above loves him even more! God says so in His word: "For you created [Henry] in my inmost being: you knit [Henry] together in my womb. I praise you because [Henry] is fearfully and wonderfully made; Your works are wonderful, I know that full well. [Henry's] frame was not hidden from You when he was made in the secret place. When [Henry] was woven together in the depths of the earth, Your eyes saw his unformed body. All the days ordained for him were written in your book before even one of them came to be."
All that to say that Henry is perfect in every way imaginable!
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Relocation
I assure you I have not given up on this blog...I have however given up the ideal that I will be able to keep it as current as I once thought I could. I will be 37 weeks pregnant on Monday and let me tell you what ... it is kickin' my butt! For the last 3 to 4 weeks I have had little energy to come home and do much more then read a few books with Oliver and watch, my 10,000th episode of Mickey Mouse Club House...but I digress... I imagine in the coming days and weeks there are going to be lots of posts as Henry is scheduled to be delivered in a mere 2 weeks time and I'll just be hanging out. It is my goal that once he is here that I will update often so that people know how to pray and how all of us are adjusting!
I think for the most part I have been in denial about the "relocation" portion of this pregnancy. It has always seemed so far off into the distance but I can assure when I roll out of our drive way tomorrow at 3:30pm eastern standard time it will not be far off--it will be the here and now. Leaving the loves of my life for an unknown amount of time overwhelms me to the point of speechlessness, and those who know me well or really anyone that has met me once would find this statement hard to believe. But it's here. It's go time. How in the world did 9 months go by so quickly?
When I was pregnant with Oliver people would tell me over and over "oh this is the easy part" and I would politely smile all the while in my head I would be giving them this grand lecture about how losing the ability to put your own shoes on is not the easy part. But now that I have Oliver, they were right, pregnancy is the easy part. The last several days in my quiet time I have come to the realization that the easiest part of Henry's life is coming to a close; as long as he is on the inside he is safe, he is protected, he doesn't have to undergo who knows how many surgeries and procedures, and then I don't have to experience the heartache that will be watching my child go through these difficult things. It's also not been lost on me in the last several days that God responds to us this very same way. God doesn't allow His children to stay in places where things are easy. He tests us, He molds us, He forces us to face a world, that at times, may be unkind to us.
My friend Tyler, through her journey with her sweet son Owen, often shares excerpts from a devotional called Streams in the Desert by L.B. Cowman, I always found it fascinating how this devotional met Tyler right were she was and offered her such comfort. When we found out about Henry's condition I started reading it each morning and it has done the same for me.
Here is a portion of today's reading: "Even the fact that we face a trial proves that there is something very precious to our Lord in us, or else He would not spend so much time and energy on us. Christ would not test us if He did not see the precious metal of faith mingled with the rocky core of our nature, and it is to refine us into purity and beauty that He forces us through the fiery ordeal."
Leaving Nathan and Oliver is nothing short of God forcing me through the fiery ordeal, but never once does it talk about Him leaving me to deal with it on my own. God reminds me He is providing our strength through the prayers and encouragement of many, some from people we've never met, God reminds me through a gift shop window that He has been at every appointment, every stress test, every ultrasound and He isn't going away anytime soon.
I know that the Lord doesn't take pleasure in seeing His children go through trials, but He sends us through them to refine our faith, to make us stronger but most importantly to glorify His name. So tomorrow afternoon when I leave the two most important people to me to make the trip to Cincinnati, I will do so knowing that God has called me to this time of testing. God has called my family to this because Henry matters to God, because I matter to God, because Oliver matters to God, because Nathan matters to God and through our story someone else is going to realize that they, too, matter to God.
"2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." James 1:2-3
-Erin-
I think for the most part I have been in denial about the "relocation" portion of this pregnancy. It has always seemed so far off into the distance but I can assure when I roll out of our drive way tomorrow at 3:30pm eastern standard time it will not be far off--it will be the here and now. Leaving the loves of my life for an unknown amount of time overwhelms me to the point of speechlessness, and those who know me well or really anyone that has met me once would find this statement hard to believe. But it's here. It's go time. How in the world did 9 months go by so quickly?
When I was pregnant with Oliver people would tell me over and over "oh this is the easy part" and I would politely smile all the while in my head I would be giving them this grand lecture about how losing the ability to put your own shoes on is not the easy part. But now that I have Oliver, they were right, pregnancy is the easy part. The last several days in my quiet time I have come to the realization that the easiest part of Henry's life is coming to a close; as long as he is on the inside he is safe, he is protected, he doesn't have to undergo who knows how many surgeries and procedures, and then I don't have to experience the heartache that will be watching my child go through these difficult things. It's also not been lost on me in the last several days that God responds to us this very same way. God doesn't allow His children to stay in places where things are easy. He tests us, He molds us, He forces us to face a world, that at times, may be unkind to us.
My friend Tyler, through her journey with her sweet son Owen, often shares excerpts from a devotional called Streams in the Desert by L.B. Cowman, I always found it fascinating how this devotional met Tyler right were she was and offered her such comfort. When we found out about Henry's condition I started reading it each morning and it has done the same for me.
Here is a portion of today's reading: "Even the fact that we face a trial proves that there is something very precious to our Lord in us, or else He would not spend so much time and energy on us. Christ would not test us if He did not see the precious metal of faith mingled with the rocky core of our nature, and it is to refine us into purity and beauty that He forces us through the fiery ordeal."
Leaving Nathan and Oliver is nothing short of God forcing me through the fiery ordeal, but never once does it talk about Him leaving me to deal with it on my own. God reminds me He is providing our strength through the prayers and encouragement of many, some from people we've never met, God reminds me through a gift shop window that He has been at every appointment, every stress test, every ultrasound and He isn't going away anytime soon.
I know that the Lord doesn't take pleasure in seeing His children go through trials, but He sends us through them to refine our faith, to make us stronger but most importantly to glorify His name. So tomorrow afternoon when I leave the two most important people to me to make the trip to Cincinnati, I will do so knowing that God has called me to this time of testing. God has called my family to this because Henry matters to God, because I matter to God, because Oliver matters to God, because Nathan matters to God and through our story someone else is going to realize that they, too, matter to God.
"2 Consider it pure joy, my brothers and sisters, whenever you face trials of many kinds, 3 because you know that the testing of your faith produces perseverance." James 1:2-3
-Erin-
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Satan Sucks.
Excuse the title, but it most articulately describes how I feel at the moment. Right now satan had better hope that that whole rapture thing is accurate because if he has to reign on the earth for 7 years and I'm left here to deal it - he will rue the day. Henry will be here in 8 weeks, holy cow, and as I watch the calendar and see the days flying by satan has amped up his game and I have had about enough of it. I have this little voice that likes to creep into my head and say things like: you're not ready, you're not strong enough, why us, I'm scared, that's a huge hospital bill, etc. These thoughts are natural, but if I allow myself to dwell on them for even a moment satan has a foothold. Then *BOOM* I can feel myself rolling down off the mountain top right into the valley surrounded by all my hurt, fear, anxiety and anger and it can be extremely hard to get through the valley if you think you're doing it on your own.
One of the best sermons I have ever heard was by Brady Boyd; he is the pastor of the church I attended while I lived in Colorado Springs. He spent weeks going through Psalm 23, he went verse by verse and when we got to verse 4 (...even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil...) he said something that will stay with me forever: "...in this life we will walk through dark valleys. Sometimes these valleys can be an hour long, a day long, a yearlong, who knows, but just because you are in a valley doesn't mean you get to pitch your tent there." Every day I am forging through valleys and trying even harder to not be tempted to "pitch my tent".
This is the first time in my life that I have recognized satan taking a personal interest in seeing me fail. For weeks and months I have been spiritually strong and, I believe, right where the Lord has intended me to be and now with just weeks left before Henry makes his grand entrance all of this overwhelms me sometimes to the point of tears. I want to pitch my tent, I need rest and I am growing weary of this spiritual battle.
But this is what I love about my God: just when my will is failing me - He picks me up. I went to church this past Sunday just completely drained because the end of last week was a tough one. I have always been a person that gets more out of worshiping through music than any other part of the service. The opening song on Sunday was "Whom Shall I Fear" by Chris Tomlin. I would have dropped to my knees in praise after the very first verse, but I knew I probably wouldn't have been able to get my very pregnant self up gracefully, so I stood with arms outstretched praising 'the God of angel armies' with tears rolling down my cheeks.
I am human, my strength is going to fail me. Yes, pitching my tent would be the easy way out. It would be easy for me to get angry over little things, be bitter at what's been thrown our way or to just completely shut down, but who wants to live like that? That's not a life I want for me, my marriage or for my children. I have to be on guard, which at times can be the hardest thing in the world to muster up strength for, and satan knows it. I have learned to spot satan when he is tempting me to pitch my tent and I drown out his annoying little voice with the song above or one of my favorite scriptures: "You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the LORD will be with you." 2 Chronicles 20:17.
I have learned three very important lessons this last few weeks: one, sometimes forging through a valley doesn't mean just taking it one day at a time; it sometimes means taking it a minute at a time. Two, we may find ourselves in valleys more then we'd like, but while we're there we have to keep moving forward and keep looking and listening for God to encourage us through whatever it is we have found ourselves in. And three, I have found that when you go up against the enemy armed with the sword and shield of the Lord he backs off rather quickly. 'Through trouble linger still, whom shall I fear?' Absolutely nothing because my strength is found in the name of the Almighty.
-Erin-
One of the best sermons I have ever heard was by Brady Boyd; he is the pastor of the church I attended while I lived in Colorado Springs. He spent weeks going through Psalm 23, he went verse by verse and when we got to verse 4 (...even though I walk through the darkest valley, I will fear no evil...) he said something that will stay with me forever: "...in this life we will walk through dark valleys. Sometimes these valleys can be an hour long, a day long, a yearlong, who knows, but just because you are in a valley doesn't mean you get to pitch your tent there." Every day I am forging through valleys and trying even harder to not be tempted to "pitch my tent".
This is the first time in my life that I have recognized satan taking a personal interest in seeing me fail. For weeks and months I have been spiritually strong and, I believe, right where the Lord has intended me to be and now with just weeks left before Henry makes his grand entrance all of this overwhelms me sometimes to the point of tears. I want to pitch my tent, I need rest and I am growing weary of this spiritual battle.
But this is what I love about my God: just when my will is failing me - He picks me up. I went to church this past Sunday just completely drained because the end of last week was a tough one. I have always been a person that gets more out of worshiping through music than any other part of the service. The opening song on Sunday was "Whom Shall I Fear" by Chris Tomlin. I would have dropped to my knees in praise after the very first verse, but I knew I probably wouldn't have been able to get my very pregnant self up gracefully, so I stood with arms outstretched praising 'the God of angel armies' with tears rolling down my cheeks.
I am human, my strength is going to fail me. Yes, pitching my tent would be the easy way out. It would be easy for me to get angry over little things, be bitter at what's been thrown our way or to just completely shut down, but who wants to live like that? That's not a life I want for me, my marriage or for my children. I have to be on guard, which at times can be the hardest thing in the world to muster up strength for, and satan knows it. I have learned to spot satan when he is tempting me to pitch my tent and I drown out his annoying little voice with the song above or one of my favorite scriptures: "You will not have to fight this battle. Take up your positions; stand firm and see the deliverance the LORD will give you, Judah and Jerusalem. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged. Go out to face them tomorrow, and the LORD will be with you." 2 Chronicles 20:17.
I have learned three very important lessons this last few weeks: one, sometimes forging through a valley doesn't mean just taking it one day at a time; it sometimes means taking it a minute at a time. Two, we may find ourselves in valleys more then we'd like, but while we're there we have to keep moving forward and keep looking and listening for God to encourage us through whatever it is we have found ourselves in. And three, I have found that when you go up against the enemy armed with the sword and shield of the Lord he backs off rather quickly. 'Through trouble linger still, whom shall I fear?' Absolutely nothing because my strength is found in the name of the Almighty.
-Erin-
Monday, December 24, 2012
Dear Santa, you freak me out!
When I was younger I loved going to visit Santa, never once was I ever terrified of Santa. Santa and I were always friends because I knew that in the end it would always work out in my favor to be nice to the guy. My sweet Oliver, however, is terrified of Santa.
For about the last 4 or 5 months Oliver has really started to be a little weary of people he doesn't know so Nathan and I knew going into this year's Santa visit it was probably not going to end well. So my very smart husband thought that bringing a few dum-dum suckers along might make Santa a little less scary for O. We had to wait in line for about 15 minutes and of course by wait I mean I waited in line while Oliver and Nathan threw about $6.00 worth of pennies in the mall fountain. But as we got closer and Oliver was saying "ho ho ho" and talking about Santa and it appeared as though this might not end as badly as we had thought.
Finally it was our turn, Nathan went a few steps a head of us and slipped Santa the dum-dums telling him "these might make it better for all involved" and Santa gave his signature jolly belly laugh. Please keep in mind Oliver had yet to lay eyes on Santa, so he was almost skipping toward Santa's area because he just knew that since we had waited in line this long for something it had to be a good thing. I wish now that I had gotten this on video, but as we rounded the corner he got one look at Santa and turned to me and said "up mommy, up". I tried to encourage him to meet Santa on his own but the poor boy wouldn't let go of my leg long enough to even breathe let alone actually meet Santa. So I did what any good mother does I picked Oliver up and placed him right dead smack in the middle of all his fears, Santa's lap. Then I did the unspeakable, I walked away him.
Nathan and I weren't sure who should have received more of our sympathies over this experience, Oliver or Santa. So after just a few seconds I went over and picked Oliver up and Santa gave O his dum-dum and through his tears Oliver was able to tell him thank you for the sucker and then we walked out of the mall like Santa never even happened. Oh but Santa 2012 did and we have the evidence and it will forever be a part of our Christmas decorations because really it's just a fantastic picture.
For about the last 4 or 5 months Oliver has really started to be a little weary of people he doesn't know so Nathan and I knew going into this year's Santa visit it was probably not going to end well. So my very smart husband thought that bringing a few dum-dum suckers along might make Santa a little less scary for O. We had to wait in line for about 15 minutes and of course by wait I mean I waited in line while Oliver and Nathan threw about $6.00 worth of pennies in the mall fountain. But as we got closer and Oliver was saying "ho ho ho" and talking about Santa and it appeared as though this might not end as badly as we had thought.
Finally it was our turn, Nathan went a few steps a head of us and slipped Santa the dum-dums telling him "these might make it better for all involved" and Santa gave his signature jolly belly laugh. Please keep in mind Oliver had yet to lay eyes on Santa, so he was almost skipping toward Santa's area because he just knew that since we had waited in line this long for something it had to be a good thing. I wish now that I had gotten this on video, but as we rounded the corner he got one look at Santa and turned to me and said "up mommy, up". I tried to encourage him to meet Santa on his own but the poor boy wouldn't let go of my leg long enough to even breathe let alone actually meet Santa. So I did what any good mother does I picked Oliver up and placed him right dead smack in the middle of all his fears, Santa's lap. Then I did the unspeakable, I walked away him.
Nathan and I weren't sure who should have received more of our sympathies over this experience, Oliver or Santa. So after just a few seconds I went over and picked Oliver up and Santa gave O his dum-dum and through his tears Oliver was able to tell him thank you for the sucker and then we walked out of the mall like Santa never even happened. Oh but Santa 2012 did and we have the evidence and it will forever be a part of our Christmas decorations because really it's just a fantastic picture.
O! You better watch out!
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town
You better not cry
Better not pout
I'm telling you why
Santa Claus is coming to town
-Erin-
Sunday, December 16, 2012
He's Two.
Two years ago our lives changed in ways, at the time, we never could have imagined. Oliver Davis was born at 7:27pm. He had red hair, chubby cheeks and the ability to melt my heart in an instant. I can remember almost every single detail of the day O was born as if it were last week...
For weeks I had been getting the "make sure your bag is packed because you probably won't make it to next week's check up" speech from my OB. That speech is agonizing. I remember walking around thinking I was like a ticking time bomb. I remember Nathan and I not wanting to go anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary for fear my water might break in the middle of Kroger or something. I mean could you imagine, "Clean up on aisle 12." Oh my word, what a nightmare that would be. But as we were approaching the 40 week mark I felt nothing more happening than growing frustration because I was so over being pregnant.
December 16, 2010 was a Thursday and it began like most any other day, it was Oliver's due date and Nathan was going into work late because we had, what we hoped to be, our last OB appointment before meeting the child we had already grown to love so much but to which we had never formally been introduced. We got to the doctor's office around 9:30 am and my doctor assured us that it was almost over. Looking back she had such sympathy in her voice probably because I was HUGE. She said if Oliver didn't come on his own we were to report to the hospital the following Monday night to start the labor process by induction, but she also said it wasn't likely that inducing me was going to work and that Tuesday morning she would make the decision to deliver him via c-section. The ultrasound technicians had been watching O's weight closely and were estimating him to be around 9 lbs, but always with the caveat that they could be off by a pound in either direction, meaning there was a possibility that I could have been carring a 10 pound baby. I mean, some people buy Thanksgiving turkeys that weigh less than that. The doctor made it clear to Nathan and I that it was not likely that such a large baby was going to come out of me without surgical intervention - apparently I am just too petite and not built for it.
So we had a plan and as we were leaving my doctor realized she needed to send me to do the 40 week stress test. We were ushered down the hallway and into a room with a big lazy boy and I was instructed to push a button every time O moved, once I was finished my doctor came in and said she didn't like what she saw and asked me if I had eaten anything. I wanted to reply sarcastically, "ummm there is no room left in my body for food, so no I haven't eaten", but I was polite. She sent me out to eat breakfast thinking it would change the results of the test. So after eating something we went back and took the test over again and then they told us we could leave. We were almost to the parking garage when we heard my doctor calling my name and running after us. I looked at Nathan and said, "this can't be good". She told us that the baby was "stressed" and that he would need to be delivered by c-section today." Ya'll, she almost had to pick me up off the floor. I just kept repeating the word "today" over and over again in my head. Oliver had offically outstayed his welcome and he had run out of room (her words not mine). His heart was decelerating because each time he moved he was compressing his umbilical cord. After that brief, but life changing, conversation we were told to go straight to triage where we had to sit and wait for 7 hours all because I had just eaten. They kept close watch on Oliver's heart and were ready to take O if it got worse but wanted to let the food settle so that I wouldn't have any negative reactions to the anesthesia.
Finally the time had come and I was taken to the OR, which has enough material for it's own post, but the thing I remember most vividly is watching a nurse in the corner counting all the medical instruments, while Christmas music was playing in the background. From that moment on I just prayed my way through every single step. I didn't even realize they started when they were telling me that it was time to "push" and by push they meant one doctor kneeling on me pushing on my stomach. And then I heard him. It was the sweetest sound I have ever heard. Upon hearing the sound of O's first cry I just remember saying to the Lord "we did it, we actually did it". Nathan went immediately to Oliver's side and I could hear Nathan saying "he has red hair, he has red hair!" Seeing Oliver Davis Hinson for the first time, I believe, is the closest I will ever get this side of heaven to seeing the face of Jesus. It was an amazing day.
And somehow just like that he is 2. He is 2 and can actually carry on a conversation that I can understand (most of the time), he can tell me what he wants for dinner, which most nights is either pizza or noodles, he can spot a bulldozer from a mile away, and best of all he can give me a kiss every night and tell me he loves me. Everyday that Nathan and I have had with Oliver in our lives has been a day full of unspeakable joy. Becoming a mother is a beautiful, God ordained task and one that has seen, and I am sure will continue to see, its ups and downs but I would trade it for nothing.
"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate." Psalm 127:3-5
-Erin-
For weeks I had been getting the "make sure your bag is packed because you probably won't make it to next week's check up" speech from my OB. That speech is agonizing. I remember walking around thinking I was like a ticking time bomb. I remember Nathan and I not wanting to go anywhere unless it was absolutely necessary for fear my water might break in the middle of Kroger or something. I mean could you imagine, "Clean up on aisle 12." Oh my word, what a nightmare that would be. But as we were approaching the 40 week mark I felt nothing more happening than growing frustration because I was so over being pregnant.
December 16, 2010 was a Thursday and it began like most any other day, it was Oliver's due date and Nathan was going into work late because we had, what we hoped to be, our last OB appointment before meeting the child we had already grown to love so much but to which we had never formally been introduced. We got to the doctor's office around 9:30 am and my doctor assured us that it was almost over. Looking back she had such sympathy in her voice probably because I was HUGE. She said if Oliver didn't come on his own we were to report to the hospital the following Monday night to start the labor process by induction, but she also said it wasn't likely that inducing me was going to work and that Tuesday morning she would make the decision to deliver him via c-section. The ultrasound technicians had been watching O's weight closely and were estimating him to be around 9 lbs, but always with the caveat that they could be off by a pound in either direction, meaning there was a possibility that I could have been carring a 10 pound baby. I mean, some people buy Thanksgiving turkeys that weigh less than that. The doctor made it clear to Nathan and I that it was not likely that such a large baby was going to come out of me without surgical intervention - apparently I am just too petite and not built for it.
So we had a plan and as we were leaving my doctor realized she needed to send me to do the 40 week stress test. We were ushered down the hallway and into a room with a big lazy boy and I was instructed to push a button every time O moved, once I was finished my doctor came in and said she didn't like what she saw and asked me if I had eaten anything. I wanted to reply sarcastically, "ummm there is no room left in my body for food, so no I haven't eaten", but I was polite. She sent me out to eat breakfast thinking it would change the results of the test. So after eating something we went back and took the test over again and then they told us we could leave. We were almost to the parking garage when we heard my doctor calling my name and running after us. I looked at Nathan and said, "this can't be good". She told us that the baby was "stressed" and that he would need to be delivered by c-section today." Ya'll, she almost had to pick me up off the floor. I just kept repeating the word "today" over and over again in my head. Oliver had offically outstayed his welcome and he had run out of room (her words not mine). His heart was decelerating because each time he moved he was compressing his umbilical cord. After that brief, but life changing, conversation we were told to go straight to triage where we had to sit and wait for 7 hours all because I had just eaten. They kept close watch on Oliver's heart and were ready to take O if it got worse but wanted to let the food settle so that I wouldn't have any negative reactions to the anesthesia. 
Finally the time had come and I was taken to the OR, which has enough material for it's own post, but the thing I remember most vividly is watching a nurse in the corner counting all the medical instruments, while Christmas music was playing in the background. From that moment on I just prayed my way through every single step. I didn't even realize they started when they were telling me that it was time to "push" and by push they meant one doctor kneeling on me pushing on my stomach. And then I heard him. It was the sweetest sound I have ever heard. Upon hearing the sound of O's first cry I just remember saying to the Lord "we did it, we actually did it". Nathan went immediately to Oliver's side and I could hear Nathan saying "he has red hair, he has red hair!" Seeing Oliver Davis Hinson for the first time, I believe, is the closest I will ever get this side of heaven to seeing the face of Jesus. It was an amazing day.And somehow just like that he is 2. He is 2 and can actually carry on a conversation that I can understand (most of the time), he can tell me what he wants for dinner, which most nights is either pizza or noodles, he can spot a bulldozer from a mile away, and best of all he can give me a kiss every night and tell me he loves me. Everyday that Nathan and I have had with Oliver in our lives has been a day full of unspeakable joy. Becoming a mother is a beautiful, God ordained task and one that has seen, and I am sure will continue to see, its ups and downs but I would trade it for nothing.
So, today he turned 2 and he is now peacefully asleep in his bed with a firetruck, an elephant, a book, a bulldozer and a puppy all because that's how 2-year-olds roll.
 |
| December 16, 2010 December 16, 2011 December 16, 2012 |
"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward. Like arrows in the hand of a warrior are the children of one's youth. Blessed is the man who fills his quiver with them! He shall not be put to shame when he speaks with his enemies in the gate." Psalm 127:3-5
-Erin-
Monday, November 26, 2012
Catching up...
The dust has now settled from our initial trip to Cincinnati and we have gone back to living a semi-normal life. Nathan and I have been reading all the materials we received while in Cincinnati and gleaning new information daily, but I know I have emotionally reached a place of great peace. Even though I read a little more every day about the clinical aspect of Spina Bifida my soul is calm. I know it’s only because the Lord has provided it. "The LORD gives strength to his people; the LORD blesses his people with peace." Psalm 29:11 Most days we’re so busy with all that life presents us, I forget all about Spina Bifida. I don't even think about it much anymore when Henry moves, which is a great blessing as that was something I really struggled with after receiving the news. My heart would ache for him and for me but now he moves and I am only reminded of the child that God has given us to love. This is a reminder I receive often because he is constantly moving, but more on that in a minute.
As I said emotionally I am feeling pretty great but physically I am exhausted. It's funny when I was pregnant with Oliver my second trimester was fantastic, with Henry I get up, take a shower and then feel like I should lay back down for a nap. When I was pregnant with O, I remember he was a calm baby, even after he was born he was very easy going. I can remember I used to pray many times throughout the day that he would just move so I knew he was ok. More times than not Oliver's movement was in the form of hiccups. The poor boy would get them and they would stay for hours. With Henry I find myself asking the Lord for a break. The boy is moving all the time!!! There are moments when I am in serious need of a dramamine because I feel as though I am rolling on the high seas. So it makes me wonder what this means for Henry's personality and what he will be like when he gets here? Oliver to this day is still an easy going child, and for the most part, a calm child. I mean as calm as it gets being an almost 2-year-old, which I guess isn’t very calm at all. (ha ha ha) I know that the day Henry is born this journey is really just beginning for us, but I find that as I am waiting for all of this to really begin, I stand with great strength and with much more anticipation of who Henry will be, rather than waiting in worry about who he may not be because of his diagnosis.
Good News
Last Wednesday we had an ultrasound to check up on Mr. Henry and his fetal movement was off the charts. His legs and arms were moving with great ease and with even greater frequency! The ultrasound tech just kept laughing at him. He would flip and flop and roll and kick and I assured her this was my every day with little Henry. Best news from the ultrasound is that Henry’s head is growing!!!!! He is now only measuring about a week behind in gestational age for his head size, so it’s still small but hey it’s growing! This is a huge answer to prayer, but something that still needs to be prayed over! I know without a doubt that the Lord hears the prayers of the masses that have been going out for Henry and our family and He is answering them as He sees fit. With each new answer God reveals Himself to me in a way I didn’t think possible. More good news: the ventricles in Henry’s brain also went down by 3 millimeters. At the beginning of the month they measured 11 millimeters and they now measure at 8 millimeters which is well within normal fetal range. The size of the ventricles may fluctuate but this was a very good sign on Wednesday.
I have my first doctor’s appointment in Cincinnati on December 18 and they will increase in frequency as Henry (and I) grows in size. For now our pregnancy experience with Henry is like any other baby with a few more doctors’ visits, but as we near that 30 week mark I will begin going to the doctor twice a week for testing and monitoring. Thankfully we have found a way that my doctors here can co-manage the case with doctors in Cincinnati so that I am not driving up and down I-71 twice a week until it is absolutely necessary!
I will leave you with this thought for the day...It’s hard to believe that we only have about 14 weeks left before baby Henry arrives, now if only we could get Big Brother to know what this means... Nathan and I have been trying to explain to Oliver for months who Henry is- but he is 23 months old – how much is he really going to understand? We have found some fantastic books like this one, this one and this one, however our sweet sweet almost 2-year-old now believes that there is something called a “Henry” growing in, on, or near his belly and he thinks that whatever is happening to mommy’s belly has something to do with a bulldozer. Let’s all hope baby Henry looks nothing or weighs nothing like a bulldozer! :)
Sons are a heritage from the LORD, children a reward from him. Psalms 127:3
Here are a few pictures from our Thanksgiving, hope you all had a happy and blessed Thanksgiving!
As I said emotionally I am feeling pretty great but physically I am exhausted. It's funny when I was pregnant with Oliver my second trimester was fantastic, with Henry I get up, take a shower and then feel like I should lay back down for a nap. When I was pregnant with O, I remember he was a calm baby, even after he was born he was very easy going. I can remember I used to pray many times throughout the day that he would just move so I knew he was ok. More times than not Oliver's movement was in the form of hiccups. The poor boy would get them and they would stay for hours. With Henry I find myself asking the Lord for a break. The boy is moving all the time!!! There are moments when I am in serious need of a dramamine because I feel as though I am rolling on the high seas. So it makes me wonder what this means for Henry's personality and what he will be like when he gets here? Oliver to this day is still an easy going child, and for the most part, a calm child. I mean as calm as it gets being an almost 2-year-old, which I guess isn’t very calm at all. (ha ha ha) I know that the day Henry is born this journey is really just beginning for us, but I find that as I am waiting for all of this to really begin, I stand with great strength and with much more anticipation of who Henry will be, rather than waiting in worry about who he may not be because of his diagnosis.
Good News
Last Wednesday we had an ultrasound to check up on Mr. Henry and his fetal movement was off the charts. His legs and arms were moving with great ease and with even greater frequency! The ultrasound tech just kept laughing at him. He would flip and flop and roll and kick and I assured her this was my every day with little Henry. Best news from the ultrasound is that Henry’s head is growing!!!!! He is now only measuring about a week behind in gestational age for his head size, so it’s still small but hey it’s growing! This is a huge answer to prayer, but something that still needs to be prayed over! I know without a doubt that the Lord hears the prayers of the masses that have been going out for Henry and our family and He is answering them as He sees fit. With each new answer God reveals Himself to me in a way I didn’t think possible. More good news: the ventricles in Henry’s brain also went down by 3 millimeters. At the beginning of the month they measured 11 millimeters and they now measure at 8 millimeters which is well within normal fetal range. The size of the ventricles may fluctuate but this was a very good sign on Wednesday.
I have my first doctor’s appointment in Cincinnati on December 18 and they will increase in frequency as Henry (and I) grows in size. For now our pregnancy experience with Henry is like any other baby with a few more doctors’ visits, but as we near that 30 week mark I will begin going to the doctor twice a week for testing and monitoring. Thankfully we have found a way that my doctors here can co-manage the case with doctors in Cincinnati so that I am not driving up and down I-71 twice a week until it is absolutely necessary!
I will leave you with this thought for the day...It’s hard to believe that we only have about 14 weeks left before baby Henry arrives, now if only we could get Big Brother to know what this means... Nathan and I have been trying to explain to Oliver for months who Henry is- but he is 23 months old – how much is he really going to understand? We have found some fantastic books like this one, this one and this one, however our sweet sweet almost 2-year-old now believes that there is something called a “Henry” growing in, on, or near his belly and he thinks that whatever is happening to mommy’s belly has something to do with a bulldozer. Let’s all hope baby Henry looks nothing or weighs nothing like a bulldozer! :)
Here are a few pictures from our Thanksgiving, hope you all had a happy and blessed Thanksgiving!
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