Sorry, this another long one, but life has been eventful.
Monday (the 9th) I went in for my gallbladder removal. The surgery went well and so far the recovery has been fine. I'm eating slightly more exciting things and the occasional accidental way too greasy thing no longer sends me to my knees in pain, which is good, so I'm thinking the surgery was worth it. Ground beef hasn't sounded appetizing in the least for a rather long time, but it's starting too again. I'm still a little frightened to eat it, but I'm getting there.
As I was recovering and again on some nice pain killers, Henry started to get sick. Monday we noticed some pink in his diaper. We thought "we'll keep an eye on it, but no need to rush to the doctor." That was Monday morning. Tuesday-day, Henry was fine. He spit up a little bit during the day, but he's a baby. They do that on occasion. No big deal. Tuesday night (just after Mama left to go home from helping with my surgery), Henry started throwing up. It seemed like a lot of throw up for someone his size, so I called the after hours pediatrician. They said to give him Pedialite and if he kept that down there was nothing to worry about. He drank some and seemed to keep it down. Wrong! The next time he ate, in the middle of the night, he lost everything. I woke up in the middle of the night to Henry throwing up more than I thought his stomach could hold, his half of our bed soaked, and half of him covered in baby throw up. I got up, gave him a bath, then we both went back to bed where he slept on my chest the rest of the night with random bouts of throwing up.
The next day he continued to throw up everything he ate, and by throw up, I mean projectile. He would be sitting on my knee, throw up, and he and I would both get soaked as well as the chair we were sitting on and the floor all the way around. Gross, I know, but it's actually an important part of the diagnosis.
After a whole day of that we decided to call the pediatrician again. It was again the after hours clinic, but man was I glad it was! Within 3 min of being in the office the wonderful pediatrician that was working that night had figured out what was wrong. The conversation went a bit like this:
Angel Pediatrician Lady: "Have you every heard of Pyloric Stenosis?"
Me: (Strange face) "Ply... what?"
Angel Pediatrician Lady: "You haven't heard of it. It's genetic and requires surgery"
Me & Nate: (Jaw drop and thinking "oh crap! What!?")
She quickly got on the ball calling surgeons, giving us our laptop to check insurance details, calling the ultrasound lab to confirm, getting all of the paperwork ready for us at TWO hospitals, just in case we needed them.
We walked down to the ultrasound lab and not 30 seconds after the ultrasound wand touching poor Henry's tummy the tech started making calls and taking pictures. Sure 'nough. Textbook Pyloric Stenosis. Lucky us...
**A brief explanation: The Pyloric muscle is the one at the end of your stomach that helps work food down. It is supposed to be short and thin. Henry's was VERY long and thick. It is genetic, but we aren't really sure which side it comes from. We think maybe my Mama's side, but we don't know. To correct this, they go in and slit the muscle a little to let food through. Luckily, the whole thing can usually be done laparoscopically. No major incision, just 3 little holes and one of those is through the belly button.**
The plan was to admit him to Utah Valley and get him hydrated over night, but he was good enough to make it up to Primary Children's Hospital in Salt Lake, so up we went. Paperwork was done when we got there (thank you Angel Pediatrician Lady!), Henry was admitted, i.v. was hooked up, and he was given fluids. I cann't believe how dehydrated he got and how quickly. Tuesday morning he was fine and Wednesday night he was not.
Long story short, he had a tube down his nose to pump everything out, was on fluids and was not allowed to eat until he went in for surgery the next afternoon. I can't explain how hard it is to see your baby in so much pain and not be able to do a thing about it. Can't feed him when he's hungry, because he's not allowed to eat. Can't hold him when he cries because he's hooked up to so much stuff. Then there's me who REALLY can't hold him or even stand so close because he can smell you and it reminds him how hungry he is, so you just don't stand close 'cause it hurts him more. Can't explain to him what's going on, 'cause he's too little to understand, so he just hurts without any idea why. It was hard all the way around.
He went in for surgery Thursday, about noon. Just over an hour later he was all done and doing well.
After surgery he still wasn't allowed to eat for 8 hours, and then it was only 1/2 an ounce, three hours later, 1/2 an ounce, three hours later, one ounce, etc until he got up to 2 1/2. He got released Friday night before 11 p.m. We stayed close to the hospital to make sure he was ok overnight and so we didn't have to drive all of the way home as tired as we were.
He is still doing well. You can tell his tummy hurts. He'll cry a new cry that he's never cried before, but overall he's a happier baby. He smiles a lot more than he did this time last week. He tries to talk to us more. He stays awake and sleeps longer and is just overall happier. All three of us have been lucky to have good help here with us. Both of our moms are here helping, the pediatrician really was amazing, the doctors, surgeons, nurses, techs, and everyone else at the hospital were all wonderful. Thank you, thank you, thank you!!
Hopefully life will calm down. I am very much looking forward to having nothing to blog about besides Henry cuteness!
