Introducing Kyle Clarke See

It's been eight days since we first met and fell madly in love with Kyle.

All 1-lb, 15-oz of him.

But let's back up...

It was a Wednesday afternoon and I was 24 weeks pregnant and on extremely strict bed rest when my water unexpectedly broke. It was my worst nightmare come true. In hysterical tears, I called Clarke and managed to sputter out the words he had hoped he would never again hear me say: my water broke. The last time I called him with such devastating news was when I was pregnant with Amelia, who was tragically born too soon. Stillborn.

Visions of reliving that heart wrenching experience flooded my soul as I waited for Clarke to take me to labor and delivery. I pleaded with Heavenly Father to save this baby boy.

Pleaded. Desperately. Tearfully.

When we arrived at the hospital, I was admitted and taken to a room where I underwent a series of exams to indicate that my water had, indeed, broken. Fortunately, I wasn't contracting regularly and over the next three days, I received the necessary steroids to mature my son's lungs and endured three miserable days of magnesium sulfate to help strengthen his brain and prepare him for delivery. Just as the doctors were feeling confident that I might be able to hang onto baby for six more weeks, I was moved to an anti-partum hospital room where I would remain on bed rest until delivery. After only a couple of hours in my new room, the contractions began, strong and painful. I was moved back to labor and delivery and waited until my dr arrived. By then, it was too late to stop labor and the nurses, doctors and NICU prepared for the arrival of a very premature baby. The temperature in the room was about 90 degrees, intentionally turned up to help keep my newborn son warm and the room was crowded with nurses, doctors, the neonatologist and my poor husband, who was as traumatized by the situation as me. I was not allowed the luxury of an epidural or any pain medication and was told that I was going to have to delivery him naturally. It was a brutal delivery.

Kyle made his debut at 7:29 pm on December 14th. 

Immediately after birth, he was quickly wrapped in plastic to preserve body heat and the nurses and NICU staff began counting down, out loud, 40 seconds to allow as much cord blood to enter his little body as possible. At 40 seconds, the cord was clamped, cut and baby was taken to the isolate, where the NICU nurses and neonatologist went swiftly to work, intubating him and then whisking him up to the NICU. Clarke accompanied our newborn preemie and I was rushed to the operating room for an emergency D&C (one of the thousands of disadvantages to delivering a micro preemie is that the placenta is not ready to be delivered and has to be surgically removed--yeah, fun times for mom). 

At midnight, after recovering enough from my procedure, I was wheeled up the NICU where I met Kyle for the very fist time. My very first thought was that he was incredibly tiny and dwarfed by the enormous isolate. He was on a ventilator, which meant that I was only able to see a little bit of his face and he was lying in a maze of tubes and cords. It was overwhelming, but my heart was instantaneously enamored of this micro preemie. My micro preemie. And then the room began to spin and my vision became cloudy. I was taken to my postpartum room to recover as the anesthesia had clearly not worn off. 

Over the next few days, I divided my time between sleeping off exhaustion in my hospital bed and staring into the isolate of my newborn son in the NICU. On Monday, I was discharged from the hospital and had to make that heartbreaking drive home, leaving my baby behind. It was my daughter's birthday and the distraction of a small family celebration helped to calm my anxiety at not having Kyle home with us.

When someone tells you that the NICU is a roller coaster ride, they're not kidding.

Kyle began his first week of life on a high note. His weight, to begin with, was that of a late 26-weeker, not a 24-weeker, which means that he's a "big" micro preemie and that bodes well for him.

He also prefers to breathe on his own. 

That's right, no ventilator, just a nasal cannula. 

And he only needed blood pressure meds for a few days.

Otherwise, he's been very "stable."

Then, on Wednesday, we were treated to a twist. Kyle received his first echocardiogram, after a heart murmur was detected, and was diagnosed as having a PDA (Patent Ductus Arteriosus)--a common condition amongst preemies, but easily treatable with medication, or in some instances surgery. It's not the kind of news any parent wishes to hear. But he seemed to be responding well to the medication as the murmur had all but disappeared by the next morning. 

Things were looking up again.

But hours later, after a routine x-ray, it was discovered that Kyle had a ruptured bowel and would need emergency surgery. My heart sank. He was so very tiny and vulnerable. How could anybody attempt surgery on such a fragile baby? I was a mess of anxiety and tears. Clarke and "Papa" gave Kyle a priesthood blessing while we waited for the surgeon to arrive. And, it was just, by chance, that Santa was visiting the NICU that afternoon and he stopped in to say hello to Kyle and wish him luck!

(you can see just how tiny Kyle is in this image)

Surgery was a success! Whew!

The NICU is not for sissies! It is unbelievably emotional and difficult to watch your preemie struggle.  That said, the NICU staff is incredible! They are amazing with these babies and they're wonderfully kind and supportive of the families. Since the NICU will be our "home away from home" for the next 3+ months while Kyle grows and matures, its important that staff and parents feel like family. I think many of the nurses love and care about Kyle as much as we do.

Here are a few fun facts about our new baby:

Big brother Brock has a birthday on December 13th. Big Sister Cami has a birthday on December 16th. And baby Kyle has a birthday right between Brock and Cami.  Kyle wasn't due until April 2nd, so his unexpected appearance in December is mind boggling. How we managed to have all three of our kids within 4 days of one another is astounding. You can't plan this kind of coincidence. 

Kyle is double jointed. Just like his momma! 

Our little Ky has blonde hair and looks like his daddy and Brock.

Kyle is tiny, yes, but he's also incredibly strong and resilient. He is our little fighter! 

It's critically important that he remain as germ free as humanly possible (the flu bug, rsv, or even the common cold would be fatal for Kyle). As such, he will receive very few visitors, aside from mommy and daddy who are there everyday. We will very strictly limit who gets to see Kyle and how often--not to be mean--but to protect our most fragile little man. That said, I will try to keep this blog updated with pictures and progress reports so that you can follow along on this journey with us.

Christmas Cards are Not Happening This Year...

But, if we had sent out Christmas cards this year, these are the pictures we would have used:

RIP Black Friday

There are several days I look forward to each and every year, but when it comes to unloading my earnestly-saved cash, Black Friday tops the list.

Black Friday is a fun tradition that my mom introduced to me when I was first married. We're not the die-hards that stand in 500-shoppers-deep lines to get through the front doors of a department store.  We're the smart ones who sit in the warm car and watch the line freezing shoppers elbow their way through the doors, pushing and shoving their way to snag the sales item of their desires and then pummeling their way to the checkout counter. Procuring ridiculous Disney-themed snow globes or some silly promotional crap was never our intention either. After the line had disappeared into the store, we casually exited our car and walked into "arena" of holiday madness. Honestly, we just loved to score great deals on gifts for our families and friends and if that meant getting up at 3:30 a.m. to shop, then why not? We were armed with hot cocoa and happy holiday spirits and always had a great time.

The day has grown to be more than just a fun tradition. You see, when you have two children with birthdays 10 days or so shy of Christmas, you come to recognize December as a triple threat. Making wise purchases within our budget is extremely important and Black Friday typically offers me the opportunity to do just that.

This year, however, Black Friday fell flat on it's now contorted and ugly face.

Problem #1: Black Friday began on Monday. Sadly, Black Friday is no longer that special day of the year reserved for purchase and profit--thanks to unprincipled and, dare I say, greedy retailers, it's now an entire week of profit for them. I'd be tempted to say that this is particularly advantageous for the consumer, but thats not necessarily the case and I'll touch on that later.

Problem #2: Black Friday became Brown Thanksgiving. What a stupid name! And what's worse is that retailers, high on the very thought of profit, required employees to give up their Thanksgiving plans to serve a desperately greedy group of consumeristic cannibals. I mean, who shops on Thanksgiving? Who is so incompetent that they cannot wait eight hours to shop the early Black Friday hours? Apparently, a lot of people. You read about the stampedes, the arrests, the fights. I saw people begging for their Facebook friends to babysit their kids, foregoing Thanksgiving dinners and get togethers to be the first in line at Walmart that afternoon. *deep breath* I'm a gung-ho capitalist, but not an avid consumerist. There is a line and retailers flirted with it last year before decimating it this year.

Problem #3: While, I would not describe myself as a die-hard Black Friday shopper, I would classify myself as a traditional Black Friday shopper. As I prepared to shop EARLY yesterday morning (online only this year, doctor's orders), I was disappointed to learn that the items I had most hoped to purchase had sold out the day before, or two days before, or at some point during Black Friday week. Bummer. As a Black Friday traditionalist, I became a Black Friday loser. There is no longer an advantage to waiting until the day after Thanksgiving to shop.

In conclusion. Black Friday died this year. She fell victim to Monday and Tuesday and Wednesday. Brown Thursday finished her off. By Friday, she was gone. Probably forever. Her death signals the death of tradition, my tradition, and probably the tradition of thousands of others who held Black Friday in such high esteem. So, RIP Black Friday. You will be desperately missed.

The Final Score

With our days in the fertility department numbered, we are 99.999% sure that this will be our last baby. This means, we have a final score and testosterone will reign supreme at our house.

Baby #3 is a boy.

I have to confess that finding out the gender of this baby was significantly anticlimactic when compared with finding out that Brock was a boy and Camryn was a girl. Not less satisfying, just less exciting and I think it's because we already have one of each gender. Nevertheless, this baby boy will be as loved and adored (and let's be honest, photographed) as our other two kids and we are thrilled to be welcoming him into our family. 

I have a second confession. Finding out that we're expecting another boy was bittersweet. Sweet to know that Brock would have that brother he's been waiting for and that Camryn would be sandwiched between two brothers (both of whom will undoubtedly be much BIGGER than she is) and she'll be protected no matter what. Bitter because it's our last baby and now there is zero chance of Camryn having a sister. It would have been equally bittersweet if this baby was a girl for the same reasons, in reverse. 

My doctor also issued me my freedom card yesterday!!!

 After 14 agonizing weeks on bed rest, I've been upgraded to "light duty."

Halloween

What if I just sat down one cold November Saturday and started to blog again?

And anyone (if there IS anyone who even ventures to this blog after our 4-month dry spell) who reads this blog will already know that we built a gorgeous house this summer and made the big move into this amazing new home in September. And you would also know that during the building process, which took all summer, Clarke and I celebrated our 11th wedding anniversary, Clarke celebrated his 35th birthday, Brock started optimus football and 2nd grade and Camryn had transitioned to a toddler bed. You would know that this past July landed us with a very unexpected, although not unwelcome, pregnancy. And because you know me and my l-o-n-g history of pregnancy, you'd understand that this was an shocking plot change for us. You would already be aware that my doctor put me on strict bed rest when I was only 6 weeks along and that one week after we moved into our new house, I went in for cerclage surgery--you know to keep the baby in--and that we are currently on week 13 of bed rest. You would also be aware that we have the BEST family and friends ever, and I sincerely mean it. We've asked for and accepted so much help, particularly with Camryn, these past three months and it was a heaven-send. You would also be aware that Clarke is nearing saint-hood as he works full time, coaches football, grocery shops, cooks, does the laundry, dishes, sweeping, mopping, vacuuming and scrubbing toilets. He is the best husband and daddy ever! And since you already know all thats been going on with us, I wouldn't need to reiterate or revisit any of those life-changing events for our family in this particular post.

So, I'll just tell you about Halloween and gush over how cute my kids were. 

First of all, I had this vision that my kids would go as little red riding hood and the big bad wolf this year. It was (Pinterest) perfect! Cami would be darling in a red tutu and red velvet cape and Brock would be menacing as a werewolf. In my mind, it was a no-fail plan. Except for one little thing. My kids had other ideas.

For example, Brock wanted to be a camo ninja--per a costume that we saw on a Halloween website. The nylon costume that would fit my big boy for about 6 hours this year cost a whopping $60!! Um, no. So, we pieced together a home-made camo ninja costume with pieces that he would wear on a regular basis. Kudos to Clarke for doing all the leg work and shopping for this costume! 

And my Camryn is obsessed with cats. We can't explain this phenomenon, as we're "dog people." She can't say the word "cat" or "kitten," she calls a cat "a meow." So, this year, Cami went as a meow, minus the ears, tail and whiskers which she refused to wear. Have I ever mentioned that Camryn is full-on diva?

As per tradition, we trick-or-treated in my mom's neighborhood with Jamin, Travis and Libby. And, as per tradition, we tried to get an adorable group shot. I've come to the conclusion that group shots of this particular crowd are simply overrated. 

But on their own, these cousin spooks are rather cute! 

As this was Cami's first year to trick-or-treat, we had to practice at Nanay's door. 

And my crowning shot of the evening happened in one of the few moments of sunlight that we were blessed with this rainy Halloween…

Splish, Splash and Sparkle...

...or how we spent July 4th, 2013.

{in pictures}

Driving to Melba for the annual Old Tyme Independence Day Parade...

Waiting for the parade to begin:

Travis in the dirt. 

Alison & Libby

Libby looking "fab."

"Whoosh & Wheee!" Camryn learns to fly.

 Look, I see a freckled "Bug."

Classic attempt at a group photo. 

While it may not have been the "best seat in the house," Cami found herself a pair of pair of size 15's to sit on while she happily lapped away at her lollipop and watched the parade pass by.

Clarke didn't seem to mind that "his baby" was cozied up on his feet. 

"Moooooo......mooooooo," Cami shouted as horses clopped past on the parade route.

Clarke had to literally hold our little Miss back from scrambling into the parade route and making friends with the horses. 

Poor Libs was battling a fever by parade's end. Not a fun way to spend the holiday. 

Finding shade to park the stollers was quite a task, but we managed. Girl cousins. 

Last year, I captured the CUTEST picture of my kids in their 4th of July outfits.

This year's picture didn't go quite as smoothly...

 

Luckily, one of my kiddos was game for a few pictures. 

...and then we swam. 

"Coad!"

(which is toddler-speak for cold)

 I found this dress months ago and loved that it wasn't so "stars and stripy" that Cami couldn't wear it throughout the summer. Sadly, the hat only lasted a few seconds at a time before Cami would rip it off her head and toss it on the ground. Dress -1 Hat-0 .

Pre-bedtime sparklers.

Cami was frightened at first, but warmed up to the idea of holding a sparkler for about 20 seconds before deciding it wasn't for her. 

A girl's first sparkler...

Brock and daddy had purchased a collection of fireworks to light off that evening and Brock was super excited to try out the smoke grenade.

Here is a better picture of Brock's July 4th outfit. He helped choose it this year and was thrilled to find a flag-themed pair of swim trunks and a rash guard with a flag-themed eagle flying across the front. 

How many "sparks" can you light on one sparkler? 

 "Whoa, daddy!" Clarke managed to get one sparkler lit in three different spots. 

The cheap thrill lasted about 10 seconds before the sparkler died out. 

Camryn, unlike big brother, Brock, was not amused.