tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-72652270914825771202009-03-24T20:53:11.605-04:00Not Another Mommy Blog... tales from the crib...Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.comBlogger40125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-62553090959682903632007-11-27T19:25:00.000-05:002007-11-27T19:26:39.435-05:00How big is Abigail?<a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0y1s07CBYI/AAAAAAAAAa4/XH9X5ufjRPI/s1600-h/IMG_1643.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0y1s07CBYI/AAAAAAAAAa4/XH9X5ufjRPI/s320/IMG_1643.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5137681056648004994" /></a><br /><br />Soooooo big!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-6255309095968290363?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-30512674783269728402007-11-18T18:22:00.000-05:002007-11-27T19:31:42.493-05:00When life gives you lemons...<a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0DKUE7CBXI/AAAAAAAAAaw/fdkXdft7uls/s1600-h/IMG_0114.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0DKUE7CBXI/AAAAAAAAAaw/fdkXdft7uls/s320/IMG_0114.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134326021469898098" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0DKJE7CBWI/AAAAAAAAAao/eANQu_82uzk/s1600-h/IMG_0112.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0DKJE7CBWI/AAAAAAAAAao/eANQu_82uzk/s320/IMG_0112.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134325832491337058" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0DKC07CBVI/AAAAAAAAAag/bvuvn_TSHJI/s1600-h/IMG_0111.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/R0DKC07CBVI/AAAAAAAAAag/bvuvn_TSHJI/s320/IMG_0111.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5134325725117154642" /></a><br /><br />...suck on 'em!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-3051267478326972840?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-22644721275168686132007-11-06T18:17:00.000-05:002007-11-06T15:44:14.538-05:0010 monthsHi! Have you missed me? <br /><br />Things have been crazy over here. Life with a 10 month old is exhausting - even more so than than it was when Abby was a newborn. She's crawling, pulling up, exploring, and is quite vocal about her demands. No longer content to just sit in her Bumbo and chew on a toy, she requires constant entertainment. Add the recent time change to the mix? Yeah, Mama's tired.<br /><br />Getting ready for work in the morning has become a daily battle. Usually we're up by 5am, have a bottle / nurse, and then it's operation Destroy The Bedroom. First mission: attempt to insert finger into electrical outlet. Then it's straight for the trash can to fish for some papers and q-tips, followed by a nice game of "pull all the books out of the bookcase." I know I could really lock down the house, put up bumpers on all the furniture, etc. but the thing is, eventually we'll go somewhere that's not babyproofed. I'd rather just attempt to teach her what's appropriate to play with and risk some minor bumps and bruises now. Plus, I'm just a glutton for punishment. Also? Bumpers on furniture are ugly.<br /><br />Don't get me wrong; I've taken some basic safety precautions. I've plugged up the outlets and plan to get locks for cabinets that contain dangerous chemicals. But I'm not going to line the house with feather pillows.<br /><br />I'm having a really hard time with just how quickly this year has gone by. In less than two months Abby will be a year old, and that just blows my mind. Sometimes I find myself thinking back to the early weeks when she was so tiny and helpless and I have to fight back tears. I think this feeling is compounded by the fact that we're slowly weaning. I had no idea how much I would miss breastfeeding my baby. The closeness and bonding that I experienced while nursing Abigail is almost indescribable, and I'm sad to see that aspect of our relationship go away. <br /><br />Wow, do I sound sappy or what? Sorry about that.<br /><br />Yes, 10 months is exhausting, and yes, I do miss the baby days, but this is also the most fun age ever. When she figures out a new trick she just beams with pride and gives me a big toothy grin. She cracks up when I sing "The Itsy Bitsy Spider" to her and tickle her belly. Watching her explore and learn and grow is just the most amazing and rewarding experience, and I wouldn't trade it for the world.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-2264472127516868613?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-37966079355133768802007-10-27T18:18:00.000-04:002007-10-27T18:20:07.069-04:00Missing herMy baby girl is sleeping at her father's house tonight and I am miserable.<br /><br />I don't have anything more to say.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-3796607935513376880?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-44107305995881368852007-10-17T18:28:00.001-04:002007-10-17T19:43:38.834-04:00The hits just keep on comin'Today Abby had an eye appointment to assess her progress with the patch and re-evaluate her post-op situation. <br /><br />First, the good news. The patch is really helping to strengthen the vision in her left eye. Also, since the surgery, her "tilt" (torticollis) is really improving. Excellent!<br /><br />Now for the not so good news... Abby will need surgery to correct the placement of her eye. I don't totally understand the details, and will be calling the doctor for clarification tomorrow, but the bottom line is that she will need to undergo an outpatient surgery under anesthesia. <br /><br />It could be worse. It could be a hell of a lot better, but... all things considered, it could be worse. So now I guess now we'll just soldier on and hope for the best. <br /><br />Sigh.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-4410730599588136885?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-75699381535412775642007-10-16T21:47:00.001-04:002007-10-16T21:52:07.204-04:00Abby OverloadKatie made this lovely video montage of Abby during her visit. Six minutes of ridiculous cuteness! You can really see how well Abigail is recovering here. Thank you Katie!<br /><br /><embed src="http://lads.myspace.com/videos/vplayer.swf" flashvars="m=20167564&v=2&type=video" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" width="430" height="346"></embed><br><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-7569938153541277564?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-37342618774869417332007-10-14T20:28:00.000-04:002007-10-16T17:56:54.905-04:00Sunday at the pumpkin patch, and other assorted bits and piecesWell, things are getting back to normal around here after Abby's surgery. It feels weird to not have this big scary event looming ahead. I'm still kind of reeling from all the stress and emotion of the past few months, but I'm so glad the worst is behind us.<br /><br />My friend Katie was here last week, and having her around was wonderful. She can make me laugh like nobody else. It was just what we needed.<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RxUzTebI3AI/AAAAAAAAAZU/1nea_-Ub2ZY/s1600-h/IMG_2259_sm.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RxUzTebI3AI/AAAAAAAAAZU/1nea_-Ub2ZY/s320/IMG_2259_sm.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5122056560881228802" /></a>Of course Abby loves her Aunt Katie to death, and my dog Lily is still moping around the house wondering where her playmate went. It goes without saying that I miss her too. Hopefully we'll be able to go down to Florida early next year to visit Katie as well as Abby's Great Grandparents, who live in the same town.<br /><br />Yesterday we had breakfast at Nonny's house, which was great. All the kids were so good with Abby, offering her their toys and making her smile. Conrad cooked a delicious meal, and it was really nice have some "family time" with Abby.<br /><br />Today was so beautiful, we just had to get out to the pumpkin patch. Katie bought Abby a great little pumpkin hat, perfect for the occasion. Along with her "Mummy loves me" t-shirt, we were dressed for the season.<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RxK2J-bI2_I/AAAAAAAAAZM/EvpacAFUotk/s1600-h/IMG_0059.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RxK2J-bI2_I/AAAAAAAAAZM/EvpacAFUotk/s320/IMG_0059.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121356008765578226" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RxK2BebI2-I/AAAAAAAAAZE/vgdlAX5vuww/s1600-h/IMG_0066.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RxK2BebI2-I/AAAAAAAAAZE/vgdlAX5vuww/s320/IMG_0066.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5121355862736690146" /></a><br />Tomorrow Abby goes back to daycare and my half-days at work are over. I'm nervous about sending her back. It almost feels like the first day I dropped her off, and I'm sure there will be some tears tomorrow. I know her teachers will take extra special care of her, but it's still hard to send her off.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-3734261877486941733?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-30918542064156720962007-10-10T13:38:00.000-04:002007-10-10T13:44:03.811-04:00Photo TimeOne of my best friends in the whole world is here visiting me this week, so I don't have time to write a lot here. Katie is such an amazing photographer, though; I just had to share....<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/Rw0OoebI29I/AAAAAAAAAY8/nxKkvvj_LaM/s1600-h/_MG_6584.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/Rw0OoebI29I/AAAAAAAAAY8/nxKkvvj_LaM/s320/_MG_6584.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119764439914568658" /></a><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/Rw0OfebI27I/AAAAAAAAAYw/pdERCa7v0U4/s1600-h/_MG_6579.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/Rw0OfebI27I/AAAAAAAAAYw/pdERCa7v0U4/s320/_MG_6579.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5119764285295745970" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-3091854206415672096?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-38626598889727021682007-10-05T18:38:00.000-04:002007-10-05T20:10:40.584-04:00Race for the CureAbout a year and a half ago I got a phone call from my mom. We chat all the time, so I was just expecting the usual banter about our dogs, friends, life, etc. But this call was different. She called to tell me that she had been diagnosed with breast cancer. I can't imagine how hard it was for her to break that news to me over the phone, and when she told me, it was like the wind was knocked out of me. I crumpled up into a ball on the couch and cried. <br /><br />A few weeks later she had her right breast removed. My mom is so amazing; I remember walking into her hospital room only hours after the operation to see her sitting up in bed smiling, so happy to see me. <br /><br />Shortly after that, my mom began chemotherapy. That was when it all became very real to me. She has always been a strong, active woman, but the drugs sapped her energy. I went back home to be there with her for a chemo session, and seeing her hooked up to an IV drip of poison, exhausted and weak, broke my heart. When her hair began falling out in clumps, rather than sit and wait for it all to come out, she shaved it off. We celebrated her strength with champagne and tears. <br /><br />Even though she had a gorgeous wig that looked fabulous on her, Mom opted to go around bare-headed most of the time. I'm sure it made some people feel uncomfortable... Oh, that poor woman has <i>CANCER</i>. But it made me so proud to see her hold her bare head up high, looking the world directly in the eye and saying, "yeah, I have cancer. So what?" <br /><br />Mom is healthy now. Last year I walked by her side in the Susan G. Komen Race for the Cure in Baltimore. I was about six months pregnant, so I like to joke that I was "waddling slowly towards the cure."<br /><br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RwbC4ebI26I/AAAAAAAAAYo/9-T0jk3JE7I/s1600-h/raceforthecure.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RwbC4ebI26I/AAAAAAAAAYo/9-T0jk3JE7I/s320/raceforthecure.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5117992302048500642" /></a><br />This year my mom is once again organizing a team, but unfortunately I can't join her on the walk. Please consider <a href="https://www.kintera.org/faf/donorReg/donorPledge.asp?ievent=229427&lis=1&kntae229427=7E1B61FA45634727874E138927098158&supId=135035633">donating to her team</a>. She says it better than I could:<blockquote>October 14th is just around the corner and I'm shamelessly soliciting for donations to Komen Race for the Cure. Last year was a crazy one for my family, friends and myself. I'm happy to report that I'm cancer free and life is beautiful. Of course, there are so many, too many, who are just learning of their own cancer or in the throes of it all. Komen's research has been working hard and making progress in discovering new ways to eradicate this disease. I met with an extremely bright researcher from Texas last week and there is so much good being done on the cellular, molecular and other levels that it is theirs(and mine) extreme hope that this disease will be something that our daughters and our granddaughters will never have to face. Please consider donating again this year to the Komen Race... Thanks in advance, Kathy and all of "Team Ciambruschini"<br /></blockquote><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-3862659888972702168?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-55482690291064326292007-10-02T16:11:00.000-04:002007-10-02T19:00:26.915-04:00Phoning it inHey, why write a real post when I can put up a video of my child eating banana puffs?<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/sDhmnUMqCkc"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/sDhmnUMqCkc" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />I went back to work for a half day today and I'm tired. Working 4 hours will wear a person out. I promise; more dragons tomorrow.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-5548269029106432629?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-67837355739231636792007-10-01T11:00:00.001-04:002007-10-01T12:08:29.123-04:00ClarificationThis blog is about my life with Abigail. <br /><br />I intentionally choose not to write about her father on this site. That is not a reflection of his involvement in her life; rather, it is a reflection of my desire to keep this aspect of our lives private. It is our personal business. Please respect that. If you have a problem with what I write about or don't write about on my website, please take it up with me <a href="mailto:theabbychronicles@gmail.com">directly</a> or feel free to click the red X at the top right corner of your screen.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-6783735573923163679?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-64502273314609238912007-09-27T18:19:00.000-04:002007-09-29T12:01:39.977-04:00Back in actionDuring a break in the rain, Grammy and I decided to take Abby out to the backyard for a little swinging time. She had a blast, and as you can see, is feeling much better.<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/LgddDtrN2MU"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/LgddDtrN2MU" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />I don't know why the video quality is so bad. It looked fine until I uploaded it to YouTube. Anyway, you get the idea...<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-6450227331460923891?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-27436278894615334962007-09-26T16:24:00.001-04:002007-09-26T17:42:25.776-04:00Feeling much betterSo.... do you like my new hairstyle?<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvrAJ-bI25I/AAAAAAAAAYg/ygVS9BJmzYw/s1600-h/photo6.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114611604440800146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvrAJ-bI25I/AAAAAAAAAYg/ygVS9BJmzYw/s320/photo6.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />Today was our first full day at home. Things are going great and Abigail continues to get better and better by the hour. The wound is still pretty startling to see, but thankfully the swelling has gone down a lot. You can tell she's still swollen when you kiss her forehead; instead of being firm it's kind of mushy and soft. Every night I give her a bath - cleaning the incision with gentle soap, letting it dry, then applying Bacitracin. Then I give her hair a fancy little spike. I think it draws attention away from her boo-boo.<br /><br />We went to go visit Abby's daycare today. Her teachers were so happy to see her up and about. One of the administrators has really taken a liking to Abigail (can you blame her?) and called to check up on us almost every day we were in the hospital. The support and prayers we've received from friends, family, and complete strangers has been incredible. Not to sound too sentimental, but the thoughtfulness and kindness we've seen really does sort of renew my faith in people. Thank you all.<br /><br />We will continue to rest and heal at home for another week or so. We have a follow-up appointment on Oct. 4, and I'm hoping we'll get the green light to resume all normal activities.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-2743627889461533496?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-3918825569499420952007-09-25T10:07:00.000-04:002007-09-26T18:19:59.505-04:00Going Home!In lieu of a real post, I give you a pictorial timeline of our stay in the hospital from Saturday - Tuesday.<br /><br /><strong>Saturday afternoon</strong>:<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkXlubI23I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/93WrKbjMfCc/s1600-h/abbySunday2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114144788740365170" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkXlubI23I/AAAAAAAAAYQ/93WrKbjMfCc/s320/abbySunday2.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />This was taken Saturday afternoon once we had moved out of the PICU and into the regular hospital room. It shows the height of the swelling and still disturbs me to look at.<br /><br /><strong>Sunday</strong>:<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkWkubI2zI/AAAAAAAAAXw/_RD68OodCok/s1600-h/abbySunday.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114143672048868146" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkWkubI2zI/AAAAAAAAAXw/_RD68OodCok/s320/abbySunday.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />The swelling is still pretty severe here, but it's a definite improvement. Her little green frog lovey was with her the whole time.<br /><br /><strong>Monday</strong>:<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkWt-bI20I/AAAAAAAAAX4/D32AsCfI-TA/s1600-h/abbyMonday.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114143830962658114" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkWt-bI20I/AAAAAAAAAX4/D32AsCfI-TA/s320/abbyMonday.jpg" border="0" /></a> The bandages are off! I think that's a little half-smile there.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkW2ObI21I/AAAAAAAAAYA/BFKyVLcQJ6Y/s1600-h/abbyMonday2.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114143972696578898" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkW2ObI21I/AAAAAAAAAYA/BFKyVLcQJ6Y/s320/abbyMonday2.jpg" border="0" /></a> The catheter was out by the time this picture was taken, but she still had 3 IV lines in (jugular, wrist, and foot), plus electrodes on her belly and an O<sub>2</sub> monitor on her toe that made her glow red. My mom called it her <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tyb7N0pEjV0">E.T. toe</a>.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkW-ObI22I/AAAAAAAAAYI/D4O_gnw7qGU/s1600-h/abbyMama.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114144110135532386" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkW-ObI22I/AAAAAAAAAYI/D4O_gnw7qGU/s320/abbyMama.jpg" border="0" /></a> Acting much more like herself here. It is amazing how quickly the swelling came on and then went away.<br /><br /><strong>Tuesday</strong>:<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkfkubI24I/AAAAAAAAAYY/5dSTHuGakys/s1600-h/ready.jpg"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5114153567653518210" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvkfkubI24I/AAAAAAAAAYY/5dSTHuGakys/s320/ready.jpg" border="0" /></a><br />All lines are out and we're ready to go home!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-391882556949942095?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-42213200768827842007-09-22T10:09:00.001-04:002007-09-22T10:15:43.154-04:00Day 2We're still in the PICU, but Abby is doing great. She will probably be moved to her regular hospital room this afternoon. I was able to breastfeed her early this morning, which was a little scary with all the IV lines and tubes and electrodes. The swelling has gotten pretty severe, but evidently the worst is yet to come.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvUidebI2yI/AAAAAAAAAXo/XgQAnf5e1n8/s1600-h/photo2.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvUidebI2yI/AAAAAAAAAXo/XgQAnf5e1n8/s320/photo2.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5113030841727507234" /></a><br />I am beyond tired. I spent last night in the chair in Abby's room, never sleeping for more than an hour or so at a time. I am going to need to sleep soon; I can't keep up my strength like this.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-4221320076882784?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-53260157944542933802007-09-21T21:03:00.000-04:002007-09-21T23:35:38.841-04:00BreatheWell, the surgery is over and Abigail did great. It took about 6 hours from the time they put the IV lines in until I could see her in recovery. I don't have the energy to type out all the details of the day; I'll post updates as I can. I'm glad it is over. She is still in the ICU for now, resting comfortably (on lots of morphine). <br /><br />Right before the surgery:<br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvRrTebI2uI/AAAAAAAAAXI/o4YjBp8rccY/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvRrTebI2uI/AAAAAAAAAXI/o4YjBp8rccY/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112829459300932322" /></a><br /><br />In recovery:<br /><a href="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvRrm-bI2vI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/qSa8gtkmiaU/s1600-h/photo4.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp1.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvRrm-bI2vI/AAAAAAAAAXQ/qSa8gtkmiaU/s320/photo4.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112829794308381426" /></a><br /><br />Finally in Mama's arms in the PICU:<br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvRrwubI2wI/AAAAAAAAAXY/foJgfNkkzsk/s1600-h/photo3.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvRrwubI2wI/AAAAAAAAAXY/foJgfNkkzsk/s320/photo3.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112829961812105986" /></a><br /><br />More later. I'm going to try to get some sleep.<br /><br />UPDATE: 2 hours later, and I've managed to get an hour or so of sleep in the super-comfy hospital "recliner." Abby also drank a little expressed breastmilk, which was great since she hadn't eaten since 3am. I really want to nurse her, but I'm afraid moving is uncomfortable for her. I want to keep her as calm and comfy as possible. Maybe later tonight or tomorrow morning.<br /><br />She just had another dose of morphine and is out cold, making little sucking motions with her lips. <br /><br />I have never felt relief like I did the moment the surgeon came out and said it was over and she was fine. It was like all the stress and anxiety and other emotions I'd been holding in for the last few weeks came out in a rush of joy and gratitude. Now the pendulum is swinging back the other direction, as I see her head bandaged up and watch her eyes begin to swell shut. But it's all ok. My baby girl is ok.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-5326015794454293380?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-86101529602401830812007-09-20T18:10:00.000-04:002007-09-21T23:21:44.147-04:00Now we waitWhew. What a day. <br /><br />I am sitting in my room at the lovely Residence Inn, having a beer and trying to unwind from a very stressful day. Abby is sleeping in the big king size bed, surrounded by chairs and pillows. She looks so tiny.<br /><br />Our day started at 7:30 this morning. Well, to be honest, it actually started at 3 this morning, when Abby decided it would be a good time to wake up and play. I tried to get her back down, but it was clear that she was having none of it. So I just decided to go with the flow. I brought her out into the living room and piled up some of her favorite toys. Grammy joined us around 4am, and we all laid on the floor and played until about 4:45. Fun!<br /><br />It was a mad rush getting everything ready to go before we left. My step-dad Pat went and got us some coffee, and Mom watched Abby while I got dressed. Then I fed Abby, got us packed, ran Lily over to doggy day care, and tried to not completely lose it. We made it out the door by 9:30 and had an uneventful, albeit LOUD, ride to Chapel Hill. Abby was exhausted but she refused to fall asleep in the car. Well... that's not entirely true. She did stop crying and close her eyes for seven minutes.<br /><br />We got to the hospital at noon, found some food, and waited. And waited. Aaaaaand waited. <br /><br />And then we waited some more. For 2 hours.<br /><br />Here's Abby and me, the headless mannequin, waiting:<br /><a href="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvSJ4ObI2xI/AAAAAAAAAXg/W3UPsgx3hdU/s1600-h/photo.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp2.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RvSJ4ObI2xI/AAAAAAAAAXg/W3UPsgx3hdU/s320/photo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5112863076009958162" /></a><br /><br />Abby was amazing the whole time, hardly fussing at all. We finally got to see the surgeon's associate, who ran us through the standard pre-op questions. Our actual surgeon came in a bit later to review any last minute questions and concerns, then it was off to the pre-op testing and education area. Where, in keeping with the theme of the day, we waited a bit more. <br /><br />At this point I began to lose my patience. We had been there for hours, Abby hadn't slept, and we were all exhausted. <br /><br />The last thing on our agenda was to get Abby's blood drawn. Back at the surgeon's clinic, in anticipation of the blood draw, a nurse had put some numbing cream on her arms and covered it up with a clear, sticky bandage. Bad idea. The worst part of the whole thing was not actually drawing the blood, but removing that damn bandage. It took a layer of skin with it. Nice. <br /><br />4:15 and we were finally out of there. We made it back to the hotel a little before 5 and Mom gave Abby a bath with some special anti-bacterial soap. She was so tired that after a bottle and some nursing (I'm not producing enough to breastfeed her exclusively anymore), she went right to sleep. <br /><br />Now I'm sitting here on this stiff, ugly couch, eating cold pizza and drinking beer out of a plastic cup. My back hurts, my head hurts, and I can't wait for this to be over. <br /><br />The surgery is set for 7:30 tomorrow morning. I'll post updates as I can. In the meantime, I'm going to watch <i>Knocked Up</i> and try to get some sleep.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-8610152960240183081?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-77277649247426469742007-09-18T18:23:00.000-04:002007-09-18T18:47:19.290-04:00Mommy needs a valiumThe surgery is in three days and I have officially started to freak out. I had a full-blown panic attack the other day, and wow... that was scary. I was laying in bed trying to sleep, when all the sudden my heart started racing, my chest felt tight, and it got hard to breathe. I had to jump out of bed and pace around the house. For some reason I was compelled to eat a banana, which somehow made me feel better. Who knows. <br /><br />At any rate, I just want this thing to be over and done with. I look at Abby and think how unfair it is. I know there are a lot worse things out there, and I hate whining like this, but she is just so <i>tiny</i> and so innocent. She shouldn't have to go through all this. Yes, and I know she's too young to remember it. But still. I hate this. I've been trying really hard to keep it together, to not let the stress cloud my time with Abby. It's hard. Really, really hard.<br /><br />On a completely different note, hello visitors from <a href="http://www.everydaystranger.net/">Helen</a>'s site! Nice to see you. Thank you for your kind comments and emails. It really makes me feel better knowing there are people out there thinking of us.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-7727764924742646974?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-71899874410406861212007-09-15T18:07:00.001-04:002007-09-15T18:41:38.145-04:00ComfyAbby has learned to pull herself up into a sitting position by herself, and sometimes when she's trying to avoid falling asleep, she'll practice sitting up in her crib. Eventually she wears herself out and just flops over.<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RuxXykZn23I/AAAAAAAAAWo/_k6K3oZf3jU/s1600-h/IMG_1519.JPG"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RuxXykZn23I/AAAAAAAAAWo/_k6K3oZf3jU/s320/IMG_1519.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5110556203434892146" /></a><div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-7189987441040686121?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-13363591387098139332007-09-12T17:49:00.001-04:002007-09-13T13:04:44.451-04:00On the moveOh my God, she crawled. Not very far, and not very well, but still.... it was a crawl.<br /><br />I officially have a semi-mobile baby.<br /><br />Pray for me.<br /><br />UPDATE: Caught on video!<br /><br /><object width="425" height="350"><param name="movie" value="http://www.youtube.com/v/AB6M6-XRpTg"></param><param name="wmode" value="transparent"></param><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/AB6M6-XRpTg" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" width="425" height="350"></embed></object><br /><br />I love the wounded look she gives me when I move the wipes farther away. So mean of me. Also, you can see why her middle name is "Grace."<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-1336359138709813933?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-25939013755317581872007-09-12T17:42:00.000-04:002007-09-12T18:17:16.459-04:00Visit to the Eye DoctorI took Abby to see the eye doctor today, to assess her progress with the patch and review the doc's findings on her CT scans. The news is good! Everything is going great, which is just what I needed to hear right about now. They were pleased that she's wearing the patch for up to 6 hours a day and according to the scans, the eye muscles are attached evenly and symmetrically.<br /><br />I am really encouraged by this news and can't wait to see what happens with her eye after the surgery. So great to finally get good news!<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-2593901375531758187?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-18449966069202299272007-09-10T18:31:00.000-04:002007-09-12T18:18:54.003-04:00Young Democrats of AmericaYesterday I was lounging around with my Mom and Abby, playing and laughing and having a good time. Abby was babbling away with her usual "dadada" and "ababab" when out of the blue she says, clear as day, "Al Gore."<br /><br />My Grandfather is horrified. I'm pretty sure next time he sees her he'll be whispering "Newt Gingrich" over and over again in her ear.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-1844996606920229927?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-82758118851428391412007-09-09T09:33:00.000-04:002007-09-12T18:18:12.232-04:00Weekend RecapWell hello there. It's been a while, hasn't it? We have had a very exciting week around here. My mom came to visit on Tuesday and just left this morning. We are certainly sad to see her go. Abby got to spend most of the week home with Grammy, getting spoiled and going on outings around town. They even came to visit me at work, which is always fun. Things will go back to normal for the next week or so until we go up to Chapel Hill for the surgery. 12 more days....<br /><br />In other news, I got a very exciting <a href="http://www.apple.com/iphone/">new toy</a>! I've always been a PC kind of girl, but this thing makes me want to convert to the other side. It is so well designed, so intuitive, and.... well, just so <em>cool. </em><br /><em></em><br />There is a tropical storm heading near us. It's cloudy, windy, and rainy out right now, and I feel like curling up on the couch and watching movies all day.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-8275811885142839141?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-64899015629754909632007-09-03T08:26:00.000-04:002007-09-12T18:20:22.751-04:00For Abby on her eight month birthdayDear Abby,<br /><br />Today you are eight months old. I can't believe that in four months we will be celebrating your first birthday! The past eight months have been some of the hardest and most wonderful of my life - bringing you home from the hospital, spending endless nights awake with you, soothing you through your colicky phase, taking you to the beach for the first time, learning that you will have to go through surgery, watching you grow and learn and become your own little individual - it's been quite a ride.<br /><br />The first few weeks were tough. You were certainly a force to be reckoned with, and you refused to be put down. The swing? No way. The papasan chair? Yeah, right. All you wanted to do was nurse and cry. It was a tough transition for me, learning to put off housework and laundry and such luxuries as showering and brushing my teeth to attend to your constant demands. I think it was good for me, though. You helped me to learn how to live more in the moment, and I'm grateful for that.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/webeth/NotAnotherMommyBlog/photo?authkey=H_PmjOKj1jQ#5105944659154040994"><img src="http://lh6.google.com/webeth/Rtv1nXOt-KI/AAAAAAAAAV0/ydtsLOz7RPU/s400/IMG_0318.JPG" /></a><br /><br />When you were two months old, we went on a big trip to Maryland to meet the rest of your family. Grammy and I packed up both dogs and all of your gear (you need a lot of stuff, by the way) and headed up to Grammy and Pop-Pop's house. You did so well on the seven hour drive. I sat in the back with you and we only had to stop once to nurse.<br /><br />You got to meet your Great-Grandmother Peggy, your Aunts Nancy & Kathie, and lots of friends & neighbors. Of course everyone loved you. Great Grandma Peggy thinks it's very cool that you have red hair, just like her. While we were up there, you had your first shopping trip (to Nordstrom, naturally). Afterwards, we went to visit your Great-Grandmommy and Great-Granddaddy at their house. Even though we had been out all day, you were as good as gold and showed off some of your kicking maneuvers on the floor. They are so proud of you and ask me for pictures at least once a week.<br /><br />At the end of March, after three months of being with you 24 hours a day, I had to go back to work. That was really, really difficult. The first few days I left you at daycare, I cried all the way to the office. I missed you so much. I still do - the best part of my day is coming to get you in the afternoons. As soon as you see me walk in the room, you light up and smile. And then you cry for me to hurry up and pick you up.<br /><br />When you were four months old, I found out that you have a birth defect called craniosynostosis and would need surgery to fix it. When I heard the news, my stomach knotted up into a tiny, hard ball of anxiety and fear. I don't think it will un-knot itself until you are safely back home in my arms, recovering from the operation. Even though I am scared, I know you will do great. You are a tough little girl and you have so many people wishing, hoping, and praying for you. Never, ever doubt that you are loved.<br /><br /><br /><a href="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RtwYdXOt-LI/AAAAAAAAAWg/cBXJQFfu24w/s1600-h/IMG_0813.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105982970262321330" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp0.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RtwYdXOt-LI/AAAAAAAAAWg/cBXJQFfu24w/s320/IMG_0813.JPG" border="0" /></a><br />Your Aunt Katie came to visit when you were five months old. At first you were a little scared of her, but you quickly got over that and had a great time playing with her. She is one of my oldest, best friends in the world, and I was so happy to have you two meet each other. I was very sick with mono during her visit, and she took great care of both of us. She also took some incredible photos of you.<br /><br /><a href="http://picasaweb.google.com/webeth/KatieSVisit/photo?authkey=VJRMMCmFI-g#5071262214564211394"><img src="http://lh3.google.com/webeth/RmC-HY316sI/AAAAAAAAACM/czryv9Yq16g/s400/_MG_0497_1_1.jpg" /></a><br /><br />At the beginning of August, a major thing happened in our house: I moved you to your own room. This was a much bigger deal for me than it was for you; you immediately settled in to your own space and started sleeping through the night shortly thereafter. For the six-plus months or so leading up to this, you had been sleeping in my room, sometimes in a bassinet, sometimes in bed with me. I got really used to being close to you every night, and for the first few days after the move, I would wake up every 2-3 hours, go into your room, and lay my hand on your back to feel you breathing.<br /><br />You have started babbling constantly, and will hold very long, intense conversations with your toys. You can say "dadadadadada" all day long, but haven't quite mastered "Mama" yet. Keep working on that, k?<br /><br />One of your favorite things to do is blow raspberries, especially while eating.<br /><br /><embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/l-ZZbRNh-wU" width="425" height="350" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent"></embed><br /><br />In a couple weeks you will be having your surgery. Grammy and Pop-Pop are coming down to be with you, and your dad and I will be by your side the whole time. Auntie Jen will be there too, and your whole family will be thinking about you and praying for you. I wish more than anything that you didn't have to go through this, but you will be in good hands. I have great confidence in your surgeons, and I know in my heart that everything will be ok.<br /><br />I love you, baby girl.<br /><br />-Mama<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-6489901562975490963?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7265227091482577120.post-66449366919275041482007-09-01T18:35:00.000-04:002007-09-01T18:11:54.333-04:00Remember that time...?...back when I said that Abby will now <a href="http://theabbychronicles.blogspot.com/2007/08/crying-it-out.html">go down to sleep with only a whimper</a>? Yeah, I totally jinxed myself.<br /><br />She is bawling her head off right now trying to go to sleep.<br /><br />Well, it was nice while it lasted.<br /><br />UPDATE - 30 minutes later:<br /><br /><a href="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RtnjK3Ot-FI/AAAAAAAAAU0/iDCUZuTGFYI/s1600-h/IMG_1502.JPG"><img id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5105361428365047890" style="DISPLAY: block; MARGIN: 0px auto 10px; CURSOR: hand; TEXT-ALIGN: center" alt="" src="http://bp3.blogger.com/_qadIQa8NwgM/RtnjK3Ot-FI/AAAAAAAAAU0/iDCUZuTGFYI/s320/IMG_1502.JPG" border="0" /></a> Sweet dreams, Abby. Mama loves you.<div class="blogger-post-footer"><img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/7265227091482577120-6644936691927504148?l=theabbychronicles.blogspot.com'/></div>Elizabethhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14181468834125037851noreply@blogger.com1