Charlotte got her flu shot today; pray for us.  Last year she was sick for a week after it.  This year she was sick going into it, but I called the nurse yesterday and asked if we should reschedule.  The nurse said that as long as she isn't running a fever, she can still get it.  When Matt brought her in today, he told them about her reaction last time (fever, puking, sick for a week) and they gave her the shot rather than the nasal spray.  Charlotte had to get a combo with the H1N1, though, since she never got the second dose of the H1N1 last year.  They actually ran out of it when I had called them to schedule her second dose; they also hadn't told me at the appointment or in the literature that she needed a second dose, that was another thing I figured out from the news/internet.  Sigh.  What a rigmarole that all was.

Charlotte slept through the night last night; we've had 3 days of that in the last 2 and a half weeks, and it's starting to really take a toll.  I'm grateful that she slept last night, though, because I suspect that tonight is not going to be great.  If she reacts to this flu shot at all, it's gonna be a problem on top of her current cold (well into day 10 at this point).  My goal is to get my work done for the day and get into bed as close to midnight as possible, and hope like hell Charlotte sleeps until 4 am at last.  Matt talked to the receptionist at the pediatricians' office about maybe trying to make an appointment to talk about this sleep thing, but she wasn't sure how to schedule that kind of consultation, and she was gonna get back to us.  I'll call tomorrow and see if I can sort it out.  I also have an idea that I need to implement this week, but it involves tweaking my schedule, which I am not so great at.  This is big though, the sleep thing impacts us all pretty dramatically.

Today's Doctor Visit

Sometime on Wednesday, Charlotte pinched her left index fingertip.  I'm not sure whether it was in the closet doors (bi-fold, usually blocked so she can't open them and close them) or the footstool/rocking chair (damn gliders!).  It was red on Wednesday, and on Thursday it got more and more swollen, with a little line of white next to the nailbed.  Matt was concerned on Thursday night that she might have broken it - since she could still bend it, and it only seemed to bother her when I poked it, I thought it might just be swollen.  We decided to take a look at it this morning, and then see if we could get her a doctor appointment.

It did look worse this morning, so I rushed her to the doctor's office to squeeze into the walk-in sick child office hours.  I really, really, really love our pediatric practice, Hamthrax rigmarole notwithstanding.  Dr. B took a look, and said that he thinks it is a small localized infection surrounding the injured finger, and that the white area around the nail bed is actually a pus pocket.  EWWWW.  There are really two ways to handle it.  1.  Soak it repeatedly, and the swelling should go down, and the pus will diminish.  2.  A course of antibiotics.  Or, 3. He will write a 'script for antibiotics, and if the soaking doesn't work over the next day or so, we can fill the 'script and start Charlotte on the antibiotics.  That's the option that appeals both to me and Matt, so we'll give it a try.

Also, Charlotte now weighs 34.6 pounds.  That is crazy.  She's hugemongous.

The doctor and the physicians assistant were both really impressed that Charlotte hasn't been on antibiotics before.  I admit, I'm pretty impressed with that myself - considering that I was such an antibiotic hog in my grade school/high school years with my jillion cases of strep & bronchitis, I have a lot of antibiotic-resistant-super-bug guilt.

We'll see how this goes.  Currently, soaking the injured finger is a fun activity - we'll see how patience (hers and mine) lasts as the day progresses.

ETA picture of nasty finger boo-boo

Week from Crazy Train

oh. my. god.

Can I just tell you that pretty much nothing went as planned this week? I'm not gonna get into a day-by-day play-by-play, though it's tempting. I will say this, though...there were BACK TO BACK trips to the doctor's office on Thursday and Friday to have fuzz pulled out of Charlotte's nose. I don't want to talk about how we scoured her bed and got rid of everything we thought she could get stuffing from, or how the first doctor may not have looked hard enough, or how she screams, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry!" as she's held down by a nurse while the doctor comes at her with the long tiny tweezers.

So why am I even posting?

I'd like to whine without reliving...it's just been one of those weeks where you know you are doing everything right and everything you can, and it's still not enough. The kind of week where you feel like you were grumpy all week and allowed too much television and not enough "I love you"s. (Though I did get two of the most rare, the spontaneous "I love you, Mom"s on Monday. That was nice.) The highs and lows came so fast that I feel unbalanced and uncomfortable and out of control. Which sucks. I'm supposed to be the calm one, the laid back one, the one who takes things as they come and makes flexible plans, and instead I feel like one more reschedule could make me shatter. The thought of continuing exactly like this for the next nine months is terrifying. The thought of only doing this for nine more months is heartbreaking. I don't want to think about pre-school and potty training and sleeping in a big girl bed, but I know that I may have to, as soon as next month, next week, or maybe even tomorrow. (Charlotte asked to pee on the potty twice this week, and did both times! Then she peed once on the floor, and today wouldn't sit at all, but that's okay.) Christmas is so exciting and overwhelming at the same time. The present I had my heart set on getting for Charlotte is sold out until January. Charlotte is so excited by the "Chris'm" lights in her room and the santa hat Matt got her that she cried hysterically at bed time. I asked her what she wanted for Christmas, and Charlotte answered, "A Chris'm tree, and go a Yankee Candle." Luckily, I think she'll get both those wishes this weekend.

So that was my week. High points included the two aforementioned spontaneous "I love you"s from my daughter, babysitting (by myself!) the excellent baby G-man (and the excellent puppy-nephew M...the kitty nieces informed me that they did not need or want babysitting, so there), watching Charlotte get very into Christmas songs/lights/decorations, playing Pretend Yankee Candle (auntie's idea) with Charlotte, and making chicken & cheese enchiladas for the first time. Low points were too numerous and horrible to mention.

Tomorrow, though, to mix up some literary heroines, is another day...with no mistakes in it. And boy, am I looking forward to that.

Hamthrax Vax: A Saga in Four Parts

Preface:
This is long and probably boring, but I need to get it out of my system. For some reason, this has just dominated my brain, and I need to spit it all out.

I: Part the First, Wherein We Question the Necessity and/or Safety of the H1N1 Vaccine

So when I first heard about the H1N1 vaccine I thought that probably Charlotte didn't need it. She doesn't go to day care, she's a healthy child, etc, etc. But after doing some thinking and reading some articles, Matt and I decided that we did want to do it. Matt is a very hard-scientist thought process kind of guy, and a strong believer in herd immunity. And I started thinking about my baby nephew, and my sister the elementary school teacher, and how we spend a lot of time at the library and how we just got a membership to the Holyoke Children's Museum, and how those 19 otherwise healthy kids died from H1N1, and so Matt and I did decide to get the H1N1 vax for Char. Easier said than fucking done, thank you very much.

There was further debate on whether to get the inactivated virus injection, or the live virus nasal mist. Originally I leaned towards the mist, mostly for ease and because I was a little concerned about the heavy metal content of the inactive injection. I know that there was mercury in the majority of those, but I couldn't find any info how much. Researching this whole issue is a nightmare. No agency in charge wants to actually say, "Yeah, you know what, mercury is a poison but we use it in the injection." You get a lot of articles that say, "Mercury was proven not to cause autism, just get the shot!" Which missed the point of my concerns entirely. Matt and I agreed, after both our research, to get Charlotte the nasal mist version of the vaccine as soon as it was available. Which it wasn't and wasn't and wasn't. Our pediatrician's office has a pretty comprehensive website with a section I thought of as "Vax Watch '09." As soon as the vaccine was available, they'd post times for the clinic.

II: Fist-fights and The Lottery: The First Attempt

Finally, the first full week of November, the H1N1 vaccine (hereafter referred to as Hamthrax Vax, or just "the vax") became available at Charlotte's peds practice. There were to be H1N1 clinics from noon to 1 every day, with evening clinics from 5:30 to 7:00 Tuesday to Saturday. Charlotte and I showed up at 5:40 on Tuesday night. There was a police office in the parking lot, directing traffic. I later found out that there had been a "scuffle" at the noon clinic that day, so the police officer could have been there as a squelching presence, as well. After waiting in line for maybe 15 minutes, a woman came out to say that there were numbers being distributed and that the wait at the end of the line was going to be at least 90 minutes, considering that they averaged a minute a vaccine. I was totally prepared to wait, except for the fact that a) I didn't have a snack for Charlotte and dinner was coming and b) I had forgotten to put the stroller in the car, so Charlotte would have to stand with me in a dark parking lot for two hours. After a teleconference with Matt, we decided that we would try our luck the next day, coming armed with stroller, snacks, and activities.

III: Friday Night Lights: Preparation is for Naught, and We Are Turned Away Again

After I posted my vax fail on Facebook, a number of people suggested that we try calling and scheduling an appointment to get the vax for Charlotte. I was pretty sure our practice wasn't doing that, that they were just doing the clinics, but we decided it was worth a try, and Matt called the office. They told him that they were only doing the hamthrax vax via clinic, and that they were dividing their remaining supply into three days, and that the first third of the alphabet could come on Wednesday, the second third on Thursday, and the last third on Friday. Our last name starting with V, we planned on the Friday clinic.

At this point, our preference had changed from the live vax via the mist to the inactive vax injection. Charlotte had gotten a live vax for the seasonal flu, and she had gotten a mild case of the flu from it. Fever, vomiting, lethargy, the whole nine yards. Also, I heard a radio story on NPR discussing the vaccination, and that the amount of mercury in the injection is about the same amount you would get from one serving of tuna. Considering that I have not eaten tuna since the last time it was forced on me (probably, oh, 25 years or so) and Charlotte has never had it, I am pretty sure that she has no mercury built up in her body, and the amount from this one injection is totally an acceptable risk, in the opinions of myself and her father. Especially considering our concerns that since she got sick from the last live vax, she might get this illness too.

Charlotte and I were in line. I had her hat & mittens, and she was in her stroller playing with her Hello Kitty. A nurse/office manager/whatever came out with a sign that the clinic was closed and an announcement: "All healthy children from 2 to 5 years of age, we're asking you to come to a clinic on Sunday from noon til four. Unless you already have a number, or are asthmatic or under 2, you will most likely not get a vaccine today." I started to get really, really pissed at this point.

"Excuse me," I said. "I was told specifically to come today so that my two year old daughter to get a vaccine."

"Yes, well," she said. "We're asking that otherwise health children over two come back on Sunday."

"Is that for the live virus mist?" I asked. "Because I really want her to get the inactive vaccine. The injection."

(Pay attention, because this is important.)

"Oh yes," she said. "I understand. We only give the live virus to children over three."

"Just to be sure," I said. "She'll still be able to get the injection on Sunday?" This is the most forceful I get with medical authority. Even office staff. I am just uncomfortable arguing with medical people.

"Right," she sighed. "If she's two, she can get the injection." She then raised her voice again and repeated her announcement to the parking lot. "If you are here for a healthy child between the ages of 2 and 5, please come back on Sunday. Only under two and asthmatics tonight." Charlotte and I left, with a little tears on both our parts. Charlotte had visions of fishtanks and chalkboard tables dancing in her head (ah, the waiting room) and I was exhausted from trying to deal with this scheduling nightmare.


IV: Lying Liars and the Lies they Tell; Plus, a Mean Nurse

Sunday rolls around, and Matt and I are both taking Charlotte to the pediatrician's office, with stroller, snack, toys, and two parents. This way one person can stay in line and one person can chase toddler. We arrived at the office at 11:20, before the clinic started, but not quite first in line. Charlotte was kid #9, family #8. I chatted with other parents while Matt helped Char on a little climbing/play structure in the courtyard. A woman two people behind me was back for her third time, too. The woman behind me said that her husband brought her son Friday night, but had to leave.

As the line inched forward, we got to go in the office and check in. The two people in front of me I both got info sheets on the flu mist. I saw a folder labled "Flu Mist Facts." I got a sinking feeling in my stomach that the only available option was going to be the live flu mist vax. When I got to the receptionist, I asked her if there was any injection. She said no, today was the mist only. I told her that on Friday I had been told that she would be able to get the injection today. She gave me a blank look, and just said, "No."

"Uh. You see, the last time she got a live vaccine, she got sick from it."

"Hmm. That's very rare," said the receptionist.

"Right, that's why I'm concerned. And that's why I asked on Friday and was told that I could still get her the injection today."

"Well, we don't have any and we're not doing it today. We are supposed to get 400 more doses sometime this week. And if you watch the website, we'll post information about another clinic."

I called over Matt and did a quick conference, thoroughly aware of the hundred people at my back every second I took. We decided to just go for it, since this has already been three days of rigmarole. We took our number, 8, and then went in to the waiting room so that Charlotte could watch the fish, color on the table, and torture other small children by totally crowding their personal space. I chatted with another Mom whose family had been on the same schedule as us - their last name starts with S, so he had also shown up on Friday and was told to come back on Saturday. He found out that what happened was that they had so few people show on Wednesday and Thursday that they opened Friday for everyone. Her husband had been ready to dump the practice after that, and so was Matt when he heard that story. I have had two years of great experiences there, but I was pretty damn disappointed.

Our number was called, and we were ushered into exam room #13 with a woman who was a nurse? PA? med tech? I have no idea, but let's call her a nurse just for the sake of this story. Let's call her Nurse Ratched. That's an exaggeration, but she was really unpleasant. She took our information, asked if we had any questions. I repeated the fact that we were concerned about Charlotte contracting a mild case of the H1N1, and asked again what we should be looking for. She sighed and said, "Fever, vomiting, lethargy. Okay?" Matt and I exchanged looks, but then we got down to business.

Matt put Charlotte on his lap, and held down her arms. Once Nurse Ratched started coming towards Charlotte and reaching for her nose, Charlotte started squirming. One hand got free. "I need you to hold her! There are a lot of people out there, and I need this to go as quickly as possible!" Nurse Ratched barked.

We kind of just stared. I'm still feeling my heart thump. I have never been spoken to like that by a medical person before - EVER. Charlotte started crying. "It's not going to hurt!" Nurse Ratched crabbed, advancing.

I stepped up. "Look," I said calmly. "She was just here two weeks ago to have something pulled out of her nose with really big tweezers. She's very sensitive about her nose right now, and she's clearly scared." To Nurse Ratched's credit, her face softened, and she did take a step back.

"Oh, well," she huffed. "It's not gonna hurt, okay?" she said softly. Matt pinned Charlotte down more, and I helped hold her head. Poor Charlotte sobbed afterwards, just totally sad about the whole thing. After that, Nurse Ratched made a hasty retreat.

Matt and I walked out of the room, and I looked at his face. "I know you're pissed," I said. "We'll write a letter, let's just go, okay?"

Epilogue: What to do, what to do?

So. Mission accomplished, but with only a qualified success. Yes, Charlotte did get the Hamthrax Vax, but not the way we wanted, and with a really disappointing experience at the office. Matt is ready to break up with them, but I'm not. I really wanted to come back to Nurse Ratched and say, "Hey, I know you want to get through this quickly, but this is my fucking third time here within a week to get this damn shot, and you may be pissed at how long we're taking, but I'm pissed at how fucked up this is. And you didn't make these decicions, so I didn't bring it up, but if you're gonna bitch at me, I'm gonna bitch at you." But I didn't. And it seethed in both Matt and me all day. I think my original instinct is the best - I am going to write to the office. I'm debating about whether or not to include the nurse incident and the nurse's name, or just address the whole "Come back another day. No, come back another day. Yes, we'll still have the injection availabe. No, only the mist." Matt was pissed because he didn't remember the nurse's name, but I do. I'm just so bummed. It's like when I found out my stepsister's otherwise awesome husband doesn't believe in gay marriage, and in fact doesn't really like gay people.

Okay, maybe not as bad as that. But close.


Preface:
(pictures are from this morning, before all the drama!)

Late-Night Craft Projects

I'm currently embroiled in a new crib-cover project for Charlotte's foot board. If you recall, that is the piece of bed that she chews to bits. We had a padded cover for it (also the topic of a post), but Charlotte has picked the cover open and is pulling out bits of polyester batting and sucking on the fluff.

Urgh.

At this point, I almost have to wonder if she has some weird form of pica, but I know that's not the case. Charlotte just investigates things with her mouth, like a horse, or puppy or...her mama. I did the same things when I was a kid. HOWEVER. I did not stick fluff up my nose, requiring a trip to the doctor's office. Dr. Chabot was very nice and efficient, and very carefully explained to Charlotte that noses are for smelling with and breathing with. NOTHING is to be stuck up there. I was just so happy that Charlotte's practice has weekend hours for urgent care, so that we called ahead and got an appointment within an hour, and paid a regular co-pay, rather than sitting in the emergency room for hours with the pig flu and huge co-copays and all that.

Charlotte was not suitably concerned by all this. That was on Saturday; by Tuesday she was telling me that she had fluff in her nose and that she needed to go to "dockta office." The fact that they have a fishtank, chalkboard and stickers apparently wins out over any trauma that pulling a small, bloody & mucusy piece of grossness out with mile-long tweezers may have caused. So now I am making a cover for the footboard of the bed that is just fabric. It never needed to be padded, it's not like Charlotte is a head-banger, just that's the only one we could find. There is a minor issue; two, really. One, I can't sew a straight seam and two, my sewing machine is in my sister's basement, along with any fabric I might have. I got creative - bought some fat quarters at Michael's and some iron-on fabric tape. We'll see how this works out.

In happier news, Charlotte is really enjoying the books she got for her birthday. She got three Mo Willems books, Don't Let The Pigeon Drive The Bus, Knuffle Bunny, and Are You Ready To Play Outside? Her "auntie" got her several books, including Blueberry Girl and Crazy Hair, both poems by Neil Gaiman that were illustrated into childrens' books. Auntie Jen thought that Charlotte might be "too young for Neil," but wanted her to have them anyway. Charlotte surprised us all, and loves the two poem books. I guess she's about the age that really enjoys rhyming and predicting the future. It's some sort of developmental stage, I know that, I just can't remember if it's called anything in particular.

We read a zillion books a day in this house - new books, old books, library books, board books, everything. Matt reads 2 to 5 stories at bed time, I read a few before naptime, and a bunch more in between. So it's not surprising that she has books memorized, and that she repeats our tones and inflections. The stuff that sticks with her, though, can be pretty strange.

Charlotte will bring out a book and then read it out loud. The other day it was The Giving Tree. She opened it and said, "The Giving Tree, by Neil Gaiman." I laughed out loud at that. That is seriously funny, because I started imagining a version of The Giving Tree written by Neil Gaiman. You can bet that the tree eats the boy at the end, I'm just saying. Or at least tells him off in a rhyme.

Other favorites have been, "Goodnight, Moon, by Mo Willems," "The Mitten, by Neil Gaiman" and today's giggling moment, "The Bread Book, by Neil Gaiman." The Bread Book is Artisan Bread in Five Minutes A Day which Charlotte loves for the pictures. Or, maybe not. "Ooh, recipes," she said.

vaccination day

apparently, babies hate shots. poor thing. it was a big vaccination day, 3 shots and a dropper of medicine. i couldn't be there, and i'm simultaneously glad of it, and sorry. i don't think i'd enjoy watching Charlotte get stuck with needles, but i also hate to think that she was upset and i wasn't there. her daddy learned a valuable lesson today - always bring a bottle. because the one time you don't, that's the day the doctor is an hour and a half behind schedule. and shots are worse when you are already fussing because you're hungry.

according to matt, charlotte is in the 91st percentile for height. she's 24 inches long, and 11 lbs 10 oz at 9 weeks. go, charlotte, go! matt also discussed my trouble breastfeeding with Dr. S, who told matt to tell me to stop beating myself up about it. i'm wondering if he really said that, or if matt is paraphrasing.

matt just gave her some baby tylenol. i'm a little freaked out by giving her medicine, but i don't want her to be in pain, either. i wish that she would nurse. all the baby books say that nursing makes vaccination pain feel better.

As much as I like Cooley Dick...

...I'm tired of being a patient there. For those of you who aren't on Matt's friends' list, I was in the hospital again from last Tuesday to Sunday.

Apparently this pain that I've been having periodically since Charlotte was born wasn't weird abdominal things from picking up and holding the baby, but actually gallstones. Oops. On Tuesday I woke up in HORRIBLE pain, and called my sister to come watch the baby so Matt could take me to the hospital. By the time we got there it was so bad that Matt filled out my paperwork and I just moaned in a room. It was relatively quickly diagnosed as my gallbladder, and I was given sweet, sweet, morphine.

Long story short, I was treated with antibiotics and painkillers all day on Tuesday to reduce inflammation, and the gall bladder came out Wednesday. Bad news was that a renegade gallstone escaped, they had to go back in on Thursday. It proved complicated and elusive on Thursday, so on Friday I got my first ever ambulance ride down to Baystate to have the super cool doctor there try and capture the gallstone. He did. Saturday was spent recuperating, and I came home Sunday afternoon.

I'm always really flattered when doctors are impressed by my condition. Like, when the doctor says, "Wow, that gallbladder was really inflamed and full of sludge!", I'm kind of like, "Aw, shucks, I do what I can." Or when two doctors tell you that you look REALLY yellow, because your liver is starting to not work properly because of the goddamned sneaky gallstone. Or when the doctor they sent me to down at Baystate was like, "Whoa, that was a lot trickier than I thought it was going to be." I guess I like impressing authority figures. Lame, but true.

Anyway, I'm exhausted and out of it, and not even going to bother trying to catch up with everyone's livejournal posts from the last week. I've spent a really traumatic 6 days completely away from my daughter, and I need to go snuggle her as much as I can before I have to go back to work next week. God, those two sentences make me want to cry my brains out. Anyway, just wanted to let you all know what's up, and to apologize for continuing to kinda fly below the radar.

(cross-posted and edited from the original LJ post)

So...

It's virtually impossible to know where to start. I guess first an official announcement - Charlotte Emily was born on September 24th, 2007 at 11:14 pm by emergency C-section. She was 6 lbs, 15 1/4 oz at birth, and 20 1/2 inches long. She was born at 36 1/2 weeks, or about 3 1/2 weeks early.

Charlotte's doing very well, and is just about the sweetest, cutest, funniest baby ever. She has light brown hair with even lighter spots - if she ever gets some sun, I suspect she will have blond highlights. Unless all her hair falls out and we start over with a different color - not unknown in babies. Her eyes are a muddy dark blue/brown. For those of you who don't know, pretty much all babies are born with blue eyes, and they change to their regular color over time. It can take up to a year for the color to really "set".

She is a little jaundiced, which isn't that unusual or surprising. She is slow to gain weight, which is nerve-wracking, but overall, she's pretty healthy.

We were in the hospital for days and days - because of me, not the baby. The only relief I have is that the baby was fine - I'd much rather be sick than have the baby be sick. There were a number of concerns, starting with my blood pressure and ending with fluid surrounding my lungs. Let's just say that nothing is completely resolved, but I have a plan of action, and apparently I have been sicker than I knew for a while now.

We got to come home Tuesday this week, and I'm just now getting settled in. Charlotte's very good and would sleep pretty much all day if I let her, which is not a good thing. This kid needs to bulk up! Plus, I just like to hang out with her. As a result, not surprisingly, I won't be online all that often. I'll read my email and TRY to reply, but I probably won't be able to keep up with LJ for a while. And I definitely don't think I can guarantee that I'll ever catch up with the 9 days that I was in the hospital.

Well, it's time to feed the babe, but I wanted to catch everyone up.

(cross-posted and edited from LJ)