sigh. of. relief.

We traveled an hour and half to Charleston, SC to see a pediatric endocronologist this afternoon.  Our new pediatrician was not completely confident that Sawyer's problem was solved when we had his 9 month check-up last week. Even though his head circumference jumped to the 50th percentile and his weight percentile was also going up (slowly, but surely), his height percentile was continuing to drop.

Really, I think that this Nurse Practicioner did not want to be the one responsible for an ALL CLEAR diagnosis after Sawyer had been on such a long road.

So we went. Tired at this point of doctors who are unsure. Who want to run test after test after test. Drawing blood from our little man who barely makes a peep every time a needle is stuck into his tiny little arm.

Personally, I felt good about going to see a specialist. Finally, I thought, someone who will know exactly what the heck he is talking about and will give us answers with assurance on his side. I was right.

The lovely doctor we went to see today assured us that he is not at all concerned about Sawyer's weight at this point (according to their scales he had gained a pound since his appointment only last week! why can't there be a universal scale because darnit one pound makes a heck of a lot of difference!!). He is now almost in the 50th percentile for weight! My heart soared when he gave me those numbers.

As far as Sawyer's height, he's not too concerned about that either. He theorizes that either a) Sawyer's height is just lagging a bit behind his weight and head percentile now that he is starting to pack on the pounds - he said that just as it is the height that is the last to go when a baby is not thriving, it can also be the last to come back up when the baby begins to thrive again.  or b) Sawyer's height has simply been dropping to its normal resting place at approximately the 25th percentile.  He does believe that Sawyer is meant to be tall-ish, but said that he might not shoot up until puberty. Basically, what he gave us was something no one else has been able to yet: assurance. Our baby is OK.  (Also, this doctor walked in and immediately gave him the award for cutest patient of the day. We kind of liked him a lot after that).

He does want to follow-up in four months to make sure that Sawyer is continuing to grow at an acceptable rate and he did notice something from Sawyer's last blood tests that he wanted to re-test. He said it's possible it's not an accurate reading and that happens a lot, but if it was an accurate reading it would be something that he would want to look into.

Overall, though, he had us leaving feeling better than we've felt in a long time.

And the blood draw today? It took about 10 seconds. The lady was awesome, and I am sure Mike and I made her day as we praised her over and over and over for her amazing blood-drawing-skills.

I pray that we don't get a call from that doctor telling us that what he noticed in Sawyer's blood tests really is something.  Hopefully we can then begin to close this door for a little while and move on with the knowledge that we have a healthy and happy little man on our hands.

Also, just 5 minutes ago, Sawyer pulled himself up to a standing position for the very first time.  It was the one thing his primary care pediatrician kept asking about last week... and now he did it. 
He never ceases to amaze us.
He's just the very very best.

And Then...

Our time in Pennsylvania was... relaxing. too short. just right. all of the above.

It got a little bit exciting thanks to the earthquake during which I seriously considered the idea that the world just might be ending.... and got even more interesting when the hurricane that I was trying desperately to ignore had us rushing south a day earlier than planned to avoid bad weather and horrific traffic.

It's funny. I was incredibly nervous about the car ride and it was totally easy breezy and carefree. We made great time. Sawyer was his content little self the entire ride. He even ate. Awesome.

When we got to our house, though... we placed Sawyer on the floor of the room we deemed to be his and.... what's that black speck on his face? and that one? what's that you say? fleas? FLEAS! a;lsdkjfa;sldfjadlkjasdlfjasd;ljfkaljkdf!!!!!!!!!

I'm thinking about opening a pest control company because I'm basically an expert on the topic now.
I kid, but it was actually horrendous. We arrived at our house Friday evening and doncha know our moving company was scheduled to arrive with our furniture promptly on Monday morning and it was the weekend so how the heck were we supposed to get the housing people to take care of this problem before our furniture arrived and became flea infested too!

Also. At our house. We have no AT&T cell phone reception.
which pretty much meant no contact with the outside world since phone, internet, and cable weren't scheduled to be set up until Wednesday...

So I kind of had a nervous breakdown. And the fact that Mike and I got through that weekend and are still married and in fact speaking to each other is a testament to the fact that I'm feeling pretty confident that we can survive anything. for realz.

We sprayed the carpet of the main offending room. We did an all natural carpet powder in that same room. We still found a few fleas hopping around. We bug bombed the house... About which I had another nervous breakdown because I'm pretty sure Sawyer is going to get cancer or develop autism or something equally upsetting because of all the chemicals he has been exposed to (no he wasn't in the house when we did this; we stayed at a hotel. I just can't imagine, though, that those chemicals go disappearing into thin air in 24 hours). Then that morning before the movers got there a pest control guy came and sprayed the house. This was the housing company's weak contribution to the solution of this problem. The housing lady then came in and walked from room to room in her white socks and proclaimed the problem to be solved. We are flea free. Hallelujah. From what I read, though, (I am very well read on this topic, believe you me) it's not uncommon for you to think the fleas are gone and then have another outbreak of them in a few weeks. The reason for this is quite interesting if you're into that kind of thing, so I won't bore you with the details. The only way to really get rid of them is diligent cleaning and diligent dousing the heck out of them with chemicals. done and done.

*crossing my fingers and praying for the best.

*asd;flkajsd;flkajsdf;lkajdsf;lkjasf!!!!!

for realz.

Mike's mom tells a story about when they moved to 29 Palms, CA. If you've never been there, take it from me: it's a desert wasteland. She says she cried as they pulled in and she cried as they pulled out. The lesson being, it is what you make it. The fleas and the not having any contact with the outside world may have clouded my vision about this place a bit at first. The clouds have begun to part, though, and I'm starting to see that this could be a nice place to call home for a few years. I will keep you posted.

the tides are turning..

Sawyer continued a modified version of his hunger strike throughout our time in Utah and into our visit in Denver. He ate practically nothing on the flight to Pennsylvania.
...and then

that first night at my parents' house before he went to bed...
he suddenly started eating again.

Like a snap of the fingers suddenly all was right with the world. He cries hungrily for his bottles. He is eating over 700 calories every single day (his target caloric intake is between 600 and 800 calories a day).

I can breathe again. Deep sigh of relief.

Who knows what was wrong. Was he just really not feeling well since he was coming down with his first cold during the time that he was refusing to eat. Was it all of the traveling that got to him? Did it have something to do with the elevation? Is he simply more comfortable here in his hometown? (I mean, he was born here afterall).

I'm sure I will never get a good answer to why he stopped eating for So Many Days! I just pray it NEVER happens again.  To say I thought I was going to explode is quite the understatement. Thankfully it's over. Hopefully forever.

I don't know where he is with his growth now. I don't know how much his hunger strike set him back. I can't even think about it right now. I am just overjoyed that he is eating his target calories. That's all I can ask for right now.

In the meantime, some other updates:
*in the midst of the craziness of travel, Mike stepped on my breast pump and broke it.  My internal battle of whether I should continue pumping or just put Sawyer exclusively on formula was answered for me. It was really annoying that it happened, but it was kind of a blessing because I didn't have to have guilt over one more thing...

*our renters moved in. hallelujah!

*Mike is in South Carolina as we speak. He picks up our house keys tomorrow. He has already been by the house and scoped out the neighborhood and peeked inside the windows. He says everything seems great, and I'm pretty excited to see our place. *crossing my fingers and hoping for the best!

I'm starting to feel like a normal human being again, and I'm very happy to be here with my family.

ALSO, one of my best friends just got engaged! I'm very excited for her, and it's looking like the tides are starting to change all around.

Looking happily forward to all of the positive changes the next few weeks will bring.

A tough few weeks

I have composed this post in my head at least 357 times. The longer I go without actually putting my thoughts into words the more I need to add to it. Now that so much has happened I find myself at a loss. How do I begin to explain my last two weeks?

I suppose I should tell you right off the bat that Sawyer did spend more than 3 days in the hospital... which was both a blessing and the worst experience of my life at the same time.

Sawyer appears healthy is active and happy, on this all of the doctors agreed.

Sawyer needs to gain weight, on this all of the doctors also agreed.

The first two days were a nightmare. Not an hour went by day or night when Sawyer was not disturbed by a doctor or nurse who wanted to examine him, take his vital signs, run a test, take some blood. He did not sleep and this was extremely traumatic for me. In those first few days they ruled out all of the scary stuff and left me with a thousand more questions than I came in with.

They never came right out and said it, but there was a time when they seemed to think that I simply was not producing enough milk for Sawyer to thrive. This was beyond devastating to me.

The pediatric dietician was the first to mention reflux... And she was adamant. Though sawyer was not presenting with the obvious symptoms such as projectile vomiting and extreme discomfort while eating, he was presenting with a variety of other symptoms that had been brushed off as various other 'normal' baby stuff by both me and my pediatrician. A persistent dry cough. Frequent choking or 'gagging' o his 'saliva', complainig while eating ( he often ate before sleeping and I assumed he was fussing because he was tired), turning his head sharply to the right while eating (apparently this closes off the pipe and keeps the acid from coming up). Then of course, the most important symptom, limiting his intake. Instead of being a fussy little man, my guy figured out that if he simply ate less he wouldn't have to deal with the pain...

So they started him on reflux meds and his intake went way up and he started really impressing the doctors on the scales. He was proclaimed to be cured and discharged from the hospital. Meanwhile, I have a small panic attack every time he takes a bottle or sits in his high chair for a meal.. worrying about whether he will eat enough... He has good days and bad, and I monitor his calories like a crazy person.

... and I do my best just not to let my mind wander too much because it's really easy for me to get to that place of self-blame where I beat myself up for having missed something so enormous...

The irony of it all is that I, the mom who flipped out over a bug bite or a possible sunburn had to spend several nights in the hospital with my baby whose official diagnosis going in was 'failure to thrive' - just typing those words makes me want to curl up into a little ball in the corner of a dark room.

And my mom was there. And I would not have managed this without her. And I hate that I'm not strong enough to have done this without her, but I have no problem admitting it as a fact.

And then it was time to move. Oh LOrd have mercy what a time to have to move. We did find renters, though, praise the lord. Somehow we managed to get everything done and we got in the car, drove down the road, and left our home of 5 years without a backwards glance.

During our long drive to Utah to see mike's sister and her family Sawyer began to refuse all food. He arrived at his aunt and uncle's house with his first ever fever. He continued his hunger strike for 2 days and even though he is eating better today he is still not taking in the calories he was after he left the hospital. I am doing better today, but when he really wasn't eating... when he would turn away from, cry, wriggle, and decidedly refuse every bottle we attempted to give him I thought I was slowly dying on the inside.

I am a private person, so having to undergo so much parenting difficulty so publicly in the hospital first and now with mike's family around, I have wanted many times to just take my precious little baby and run.

I cannot wait to get to Pennsylvania with my parents where I can finally begin to feel some normalcy again, and I pray that our transition to our new home goes much more smoothly than these past weeks.

In the meantime and through it all Sawyer has remained his happy, calm, and charming little self. I love him so.

2 minutes later

Is it two minutes later?

Yep.

Well, then, you won't be surprised to know that I am now totally freaking out about Sawyer's weight situation.
Mike came home yesterday and told me his dad called him and said the head pediatrician at the naval hospital here is strongly recommending that Sawyer come in for 3 days for tests, monitoring, time with a dietician, etc.

At first, we both blew it off as being a ridiculous overreaction. Mike's dad was once the commanding officer at this naval hospital I speak of, so we figured when the former CO calls and says, "I'm concerned about my grandson", the doctors aren't very likely to say, "Oh. No Worries. Everything Is Fine."

At about 10:30 that night, I received an email from Mike's dad that went into detail about this specific pediatrician's concerns and why it is imperative that we take care of this right away.
I actually slept that night, and when I woke up it was one of those times where I was carefree for a moment and then I remembered and was like oh. right. that. :(

So I called my mom and discussed. More. As if I hadn't already talked to her about this specific subject for hours on end. I had decided as soon as I read that email from Mike's dad that it was time to put my big girl pants on and take my darn baby to the hospital to get him the care that he needs. Maybe it will be nothing. Maybe they will say, "Oh. False Alarm. Your Baby is Perfect. Just as you Thought." But I'm starting to get the feeling it's not really going to go like that.

I'd like to go on record saying that it really pays to know people in high places. I'm almost completely certain that never in the history of naval medicine has anything moved quite as swiftly as it did for me this morning. I spoke with Mike's dad for a minute. He gave me the cell phone number of the head pediatrician and told me to call him. I called him. He didn't answer. He called me back 10 minutes later apologizing for not answering my phone call. He's traveling. He spoke to me about the situation for a few minutes. While speaking to him the sick feeling in my stomach slowly started to disappear. A little bit of relief took its place. He told me I had to have my pediatrician refer Sawyer to their care. My pediatrician did. And, in less then two hours, I was speaking to the on-call pediatrician at the hospital and he was telling me they were ready for me when I got there

....

I told him this was all moving a bit fast for me. Could I bring Sawyer in tomorrow?

Sure thing, he said.

It's settled. Tomorrow we go to the hospital, and maybe it will be the worst couple of days of my entire life. Maybe it will be incredibly stressful and anxiety inducing and not really very convenient At. ALL. But at least I know. Know for sure that I am doing everything I can to make sure that my little baby is getting the best possible care he can get.

My mom is flying in tonight.

She told me on the phone... I'm coming.

I cried.

Did you know Mike's going through an intense training right now for the military? He's more than halfway finished, and if he were to take off even an hour he would have to drop out? I don't want him to drop out. So having my mom here for support will be priceless.

Please pray for my little baby. He is my world, and I just want him to be healthy.

healthy and happy.

my olympic gymnast

When I had my first real prenatal check-up, I was incredibly nervous. I was afraid that during that first ultrasound we would find that my baby was not thriving. Instead, we found an Olympic gymnast flipping around in there. That image fortified me beyond belief. During those early days when I was oh so very nervous that something would go wrong, all I had to do was think about that baby flipping around in there having the time of his or her life, and it would bring a smile to my face.

During the late days of pregnancy, I would sit in awe staring at my belly shift and contort in the most amazing ways as my very active little man would find some way to roll around despite his constantly shrinking living quarters.

He was 10 days late, so I had to go into the doctor a few times for those stress tests where they strap a monitor to your belly and observe the motion and heartbeat for an extended period of time. I was supposed to click a button every time my baby moved. The first time I went I clicked it every two seconds the entire time. Literally. He would not stop moving. Something about the monitor got him going.

These days, now that my little man has achieved the mobility he has so greatly yearned for over the past many months, I am seeing a bit of that olympic gymnast in real life.

We purchased one of those video camera monitors for Sawyer's room because every time I would go in to get him in the morning he would be in a different corner of his crib in a totally different position from how I left him. It totally freaked me out.

Now that we can watch him, though, it is quite a sight to see. All night long our precious little baby rolls, turns, flails, and basically covers every square inch of that crib.... all while he is sleeping.

He is a very active little boy, and that active little boy is my world.
.................................................................................................................
No. I'm not really worried about him. My father-in-law spoke with a pediatrician he knows and respects in Bethesda, MD. He was not alarmed or worried about the situation. When we are on the East Coast in only a few weeks we will see this doctor for his second opinion. In the meantime, he has requested that we keep a record of everything that Sawyer eats. For my part, I have been pumping a lot more and giving Sawyer bottles much more often, so that I can really be sure that my supply is up to par and that he really is taking in a decent amount of breastmilk. So far my experiment has proven that all is well in the breastmilk department, and he certainly has a healthy appetite.

My honest belief is that he is just fine. I think he started out in life bigger than he's really meant to be and his body is now adjusting. I know he's eating well. He's active. Happy. Content. Babbling. Sleeping well. His eyes shine with life and personality. He is everything you would expect a healthy baby to be. I just cannot believe that there is something wrong. That's how I feel.

At least... that's how I feel right now. Ask me in 2 minutes, and I might be panicking again.

attempting to put that which plagues me into words

I have this problem where I obsess over certain things that people say to me. Things that at the time I often shrug off or barely notice but that later come back to haunt me.

Like the lady who attempted to draw Sawyer's blood yesterday. Of that entire traumatic experience and the two actually very inappropriate things that she said, the one that keeps resounding in my head is, "Did he lose his shoes?"

After the blood draw wasn't successful, I was attempting to make a speedy exit fighting through my tears, and she was trying to help me leave. She handed my diaper bag to me. She opened the door, and then innocently inquired, "Did he lose his shoes?"

To me it insinuated that my 7 month old, non-walking baby who stayed in my arms the entire time he was at the doctor's office should have been wearing shoes in the dead heat of summer. To me it insinuated that I was somehow lesser of a mother because I brought my baby out of the house with nothing to cover his precious little toes.

Logically I know I'm overreacting. Logically I know that she was making no such insinuation, but rather, was trying to be helpful as I made my harried exit.

What I should be offended by, rather, was how she kept muttering under her breath, but oh so loud enough for me to hear: "Why does such a little baby need such a big blood draw??"

or, how after she was unsuccessful in drawing any blood and as my baby screamed bloody murder she grabbed the order for the blood draw and exclaimed, "What is wrong with him anyway?!?"

Those are the words that I should be simmering over as I lay awake in my bed at 3 am, but no. It's the shoes comment. I can't get over the comment about the shoes.

And though it's hard for me to put my feelings into words right now, the weight check didn't go well. He gained a little over half a pound but grew zero inches in 3 weeks. He's still in the low single digit percentile for weight and continues to drop in height. The doctor thinks he's not getting enough calories but wanted to run all these tests anyway. I didn't go through with the blood draw, though. I don't know if I will. I gave it a shot, and it was a disturbing experience to say the least. I can't sleep because I am tormented by the thought that I cannot/am not providing my baby with enough nutrition for him to gain and grow properly. My instincts tell me my baby is happy and glowing and beautiful and perfect, but what if my instincts are wrong? What if he is, in some way, starving.  Breast is best, but I have no way of knowing if he's getting enough to eat. Everything says if he's gaining well he's getting enough to eat, but my doctor says he's not gaining well. She wants me to load him up on the solids which I will attempt to do, but I still can't get the idea out of my head that somehow the milk that my body is producing is in some way not enough... that if it were he would not be in this situation.

My father-in-law is on the case... a retired medical officer in the Navy he has contacts near and far and is contacting every pediatrician he knows. Mike's grandfather was a renowned pediatrician, and Mike's dad lamented that he wishes he were around today to help us crack this case. That made me feel sad too. What I'm looking for right now is a second opinion from a doctor I feel that I can trust, because I haven't run into too many of them lately...

One thing I know for sure is that Sawyer is loved so deeply and by so many. If love alone could sustain him, he would be in the 100th percentile. That's for sure.