Warning: Simplicity Bassinett

I have this bassinet. I read the instructions and the warnings, and you're suppose to take the bar out if you use it as a co-sleeper. But the overlapping fabric is Velcroed so it is easy to come off.

Two babies have died this way, one locally and one over a year ago (they did not make any recalls at that point, even after CPSC was notified).

Because they are bassinets, they aren't as heavily regulated as cribs. Also to add to the confusion Simplicity was taken over by SFCA this spring, and they have stated they are not legally responsible since they were not the manufacturers (they have since produced a product where the fabric is "permanently" attached).

What kills me is some people are actually blaming the Shawnee mother. I mean, this already happened a year ago and while Simplicity recalled cribs (which is what put them out of business), they never recalled the bassinet the death actually occurred in.

I get that every parent is responsible for their child and their safety. But when it comes to purchasing a product for your child (ours was a gift) you expect quality and trust in the brand you buy. I researched this product before putting it on the wish list and it got great reviews. I am pretty outraged by the criticism this woman is getting after losing her baby. I'm sure she feels an amount of pain that is indescribable and (fortunately) not comprehendable by many people. I'm sure that with that pain, comes guilt, regardless if she was at fault or not.

The first baby that passed was also in very capable, non-negligent hands. Nothing was done about the product, so it's happened again, therefore it's a bigger story. I just think that before people judge, they should take into consideration this woman's loss. That's enough punishment within itself.

Please, share your thoughts. But be tasteful about it. And if you have this bassinett, please stop using it (I use mine as a changing table, so LilB is never unattended in it-I shudder to think of what could have happened).

The Long Awaited Appointment

I can't tell you if he'll ever walk, sit, or crawl, but what I can tell you is he'll never be in a regular classroom.



Those word felt like daggers piercing my soul. I looked to MrB for comfort, only to see the familiar pain burning his eyes. He gently rocked LilB as he looked away from the Neurologist.



This had been the day we had waited most of LilB's life for. For worry to finally melt away. For reassurance that has never been given by anyone. For unanswered questions to finally be revealed.



Instead, we were left with our heads spinning, our questions mostly unanswered, and our spirit and hearts broken a little bit more by a doctor who couldn't seem to wait to get out the door.



How could this happen to our little boy? What had he done? Was he unknowingly paying for our sins?



Anger and resentment took a backseat that day as the CT scans and the MRIs were loaded onto the computer screen. It had a devastating effect; we had never seen them before.



There was indeed a loss of oxygen 3-4 days prior to birth. This explains the swelling of his head presented at birth. How the oxygen was deprived will forever remain a mystery and a burden in my heart.



The seizures and apnea were not caused from the medication to sedate LilB for the CT scan (though no one will ever be able to convince us our birthing hospital treated him, or us, right; if a baby with significant apnea doesn't ever see a doctor, then they didn't do their job).



The damage was significant though. Your brain doesn't grow back after something like that. The only thing to do is to do what we have been doing; therapy.



The good news is that it's not progressive, though I could have told them that. And the possible diagnosis will be cerebral palsy, which they won't officially tell me until he's 2-3 years old.



Our OT (Amanda) and our new PT (Megan) were both unhappy with how the doctor treated us. Amanda insisted he would be able to sit just fine, since he already has a good amount of trunk control, and Megan taught me some stretches to prep his legs for crawling and walking.



I can't explain the helplessness you feel when something like this happens to your child. The longing you feel to take away the struggles you know will be twice as hard for him then for any other kid. The resentment you feel for them not having a fair chance. The guilt you feel from not being able to do anything. The nights you stay up worrying that you're doing your very best to give him that chance.



But when he smiles at me, I put it in the back of my mind. I know it's not good for him to think negatively. That he needs all the positive energy he can get. He needs his mommy and daddy to be strong for him.



Thinking back to all the times he's already proved the doctors wrong, brings me hope. He's stronger than they thought. He's healthier than they thought he would be.



Sometimes, he's my little ray of strength.

Black and Tan River

(I bring to you my very first guest post, written by a man that has shared my life for almost 4 years now, MrB)

This is the face of a proud wiener once obsessed with the intricate & natural form known as a 'creek'. Scratch the once part out of the previous statement. Its every owners secret problem, the one we never fess up to. Its that unique thing your dog did out of the blue. You were so proud of your new dog's independent decision of creativity, you showered him with praise and immediately embedded your pups memory of an intense sense of approval. This has become a form of affection your dog will do everything to give. What if that comes back to bite you in the rear, and you loose control of your pets focus. For my dog, I loose all the focus of his attention and this intern hurts our training and interrupts the focus it takes to be ready for the next command.

So now every walk must end on a happy note and that happens to be his release from his ball and chain known as his leash and run free along the creek side. Bogey isn't one to judge as you can tell. The scenery isn't his main concern. He's looking for that unique scent to trail and use his biological trait of tracking.
He must respect the world from his pack leader's perspective. Watching a dog enter his playground in a calm and submissive manner is an excellent achievement for any proud owner. That is till he is let loose running and then my control is only limited to his attention span and competing distractions.
Bogey has been obsessed with this morbid piece of nature for months now. Till this trip he has never explored his obsession of the water. He likes to pace up and down the 20 meter stretch of creek stopping every 3 feet to explore his reflection, fixate on the local water bugs, hope for a sun-bathing frog to awake and retreat to the muddy floor bed, or even catch the mutant snapping turtle drift from side to side of the imprisoned area. This time he went straight into the water more confident then ever, soon after the shock of a cool stream he was beached right where he left off. So much for that!
If I were a photographer I would of positioned the camera to focus on his right paw in the pointer position. I like this pic, it shows how he can utilize his attention span when fixated on his target. You'll notice his tail in a perfectly curved and aware state. He is an extremely smart and aware companion not to mention a blast to have around. If your looking for an animal who will be loyal, respectful and nurture children this is a perfect match. If your a very loving caregiver watch out for an 'the attention starving pet'. We call Bogey or 'Wienies' an avid attention whore, that's my only warning.

I have never blogged a sentence in my life so I hope you enjoyed our journey if only for a moment.

This is MrB signing off!

For advice on my next excursion or blog just post your comments. ADIOS AMIGOS!

PEACE&<3>

A Week Full

Things have been hectic this week. I've barley had time to catch up on my Reader (down to 62), let alone catch up on my blogs. Here's a quick recap of our hectic schedule this week:

1. The long awaited Neurology appointment (Monday) Ugh. We'll just leave that for tomorrows post, since I've got plenty to say on that one.
2. EEG and Rehab appointment (Tuesday) Rehab was suppose to be on Monday but there was a schedule mishap that wasn't my fault. These appointments went considerably well, especially with LilB on 3 1/2 hours of sleep. It was a long day for me. This one also ties into the Neurology appointment.
3. Post op appointment (Wednesday) LilB's eyes look great. No infections, despite him rubbing his eyes (I tried to stop him, but you can only do so much). He has to wear a patch over his left eye 1-2 hours a day to help strengthen that musle
4. Occupational (Amanda) and Physical (Megan) therapist (Thursday) Amanda was thrilled to see his head control improved. She figures it probably had to due with his lack of ability to coordinate his poor vision with his hands and head.
   Megan showed us a few stretching moves for his legs and his left arm. She didn't work him too hard since Amanda had been there earlier. Next week, she'll be coming at the same time as Amanda for some co-treating. This, and the fact the the therapists actually talk to one another, thrills me.
5. MrB's birthday was on Tuesday. He had an extremely busy day, since he had taken off last Friday and Monday. I was so busy running around that I didn't have time to bake him brownies or really do anything for him. I wanted to get him a Blackberry to help with his business but we've been having a few issues with his work so we want to at least settle into our new place before we start another bill.
6. That's right, we'll be moving again, in October. Apparently our apartment complex has new owners and management and they're trying to raise our rent 85 bucks. Not gonna happen since every time I call the maintenance man, I have to call the office at least two times before anything will happen. And the maintenance man's word doesn't mean crap. They left my A/C leaking all weekend and I had to bitch before someone would come clean our carpets. I wonder if mold got into the ventilation system because I've been sneezing like crazy. They said it wasn't likely. AH.
7. Last night, I saw my ex, Ely. I was a little annoyed that my friend didn't warn me before I came over. Luckily another friend of mine was there, so I could some-what ignore him. Though he did try to talk to me and ask me about LilB. It was uncomfortable and many bad memories were hard to suppress. I don't have a problem being friends with exes, but he's different. Even if we use to be friends before, I'm not sure I could ever look at him the same. I'm not sure if I even want to.

Today, no appointments and hardly any work (that's going to kill me come moving time). I've just been kickin' back and thinking about what to do this weekend. People have actually invited me out with them, and even though some Frenemies might be there, I've been considering it. I really need to get out after this week. And I need to do something for MrB. With all the love and flowers he's been showing me lately, he deserves it. Anyone have any suggestions? (I already gave him something, Mean Girls style.)

Surgery Day

Everyone give him a kiss, the nurse said as she swiped her card and opened the double doors.

MrB leaned down and kissed LilB, who was fussing in my arms. GrandmaB and GrandpaB (MrB's parents) followed MrB's lead and bid their goodbyes.

And then, before I could kiss him, the nurse swooped him from my arms, taking his blue elephant with her and quickly walked sway. I could feel the tears burning my eyes.

We had gone through check in and all the possible things that could happen, though we didn't want to hear it. I didn't want to have any bad energy. Our normally inpersonable doctor, was quite cheerful (probably because she was within her element). It was actually comforting.

We quietly made our ways downstairs, to the surgery waiting area. After settling in, we were able to distract our over protective instincts by discussing the Olympics (and how wonderful Phelps is).

I texted my BFF, my mom, and my aunt Carol to let everyone know. Aunt Carol called me to tell me we were in a prayer chain and to ask if she could talk to my dad. I told her I didn't mind.

At 11:15, the doctor came to talk with us. The surgery had gone well and he was in recovery. She warned us his eyes would be red and he would have bloody tears. In an hour and a half, we could come up and see him.

GrandpaB and MrB went to eat and of course, they called us up early. I didn't wait for them, as I practically knocked doctors down on the way to the elevator. We stood in front of the elephants and waited for LilB to come out.

A nurse wheeled a bed through the doors and asked to see my band. LilB was lying there, covered by a thin, white sheet. His eyes were closed, swollen, and red. I shuttered, seeing the blood on his nose.

We went through another set of double doors, where there were curtains closing off sections for privacy. Inside the "room" was a familiar recliner and a single chair, with room for little else.

I sat in the chair and LilB was placed in my arms, IV line and all (too familiar). LilB fussed quietly as GrandmaB and I attempted to soothe him. When the nurse took his line out, he was able to be calmed.

He's resting at home now. I've gotten use to the blood in his eyes and he seems to be handling it pretty well. I can already see that his eyes aren't wandering, though he's probably seeing double due to the surgery. I'm thankful, relieved, and excited. And maybe a little exhausted.

I want to thank everyone for there well wishes. It means a lot to me to have your support and we'll take every bit we can get. That's why I made sure to let you guys know, as soon as we got back.

Have a good weekend, all.

Tomorrows the Day

Tomorrow is the big day; the long awaited surgery day.

Yeah, it was suppose to be about a month ago. They decided they wanted to do it at the main hospital so, despite the inconvenience and my annoyance, it was delayed.

I've been excited all week. I can't wait for him to be able to see things from across the room, not have to take time to focus on things, and, most of all, not be startled by people approaching him. Perhaps it will even move his development along.

But today, my nerves started to set in. I've tried not to think about it.

No food after 2 a.m. Clear liquids okay until 7.45 a.m. Arrive at 10 a.m.

Tomorrow will be a long day.

I'm sure it will be worth it.

Mother Nature Is A Bitch

Nature's way of leveling the playing field. Much in the same way that an earthquake would level it.

I'm pretty sure the title is going to automatically disqualify me from The Mom Blogs.

It's that time of month again. TMI, I know, but I was inspired to let Mother Nature take it's course from a new favorite blog, UndomesticDiva. I can total relate to this post.

I should have known, really. The week leading up to that time is usually the most unpleasant; bouts of bitcheness, with dashes of crazies, and probably quite a few occasions of tears. Then, the days before, it's the bloadedness, cramps, weird heachaches, and worse of all, backaches.

But after all the false alarms, I didn't even wonder why my thoughts from not having a period in two years, went to one extreme (OMG, WE'RE GOING TO HAVE A BABY, ICAN'TWAITLET'SDOITNOW) to another (OMG, WHY HAVEN'T I HAD MY PERIOD, I MUST BE HAVING MENOPAUSE EARLY, I'LL NEVER HAVE BABIES AGAIN!!).

After leaving WalMart sans half our shopping, I figured out what was up. I could hardly deal with the crowds there, though they were consideribly good for a Saturday afternoon. Still, once LilB let us know he was a little hungry, I was done.

I mostly lounged the rest of the weekend, not wanting to do anything, despite MrB's longing to go see Batman. I'm the comic book fan, too, but my ovaries were just not having it. They specifically instructed me: no laundry, no cooking, no going out, just stuffing myself with MrB's chocolate covered strawberries (he's a sweetheart, I know) and lounging.

MrB must have sensed Mother Nature (aka the Devil) lurking within, because he kept his distance by doing both dishes and laundry, with some extra cleaning in there. I still wanted to bite his head off, chew it up, and spit it out. I know he doesn't deserve; it's just my hormones demanding sacrifice...

Watch out. 4 more long days to go (hopefully without any more blodshed then necessary).

That was just gross. VOM

But I Don't Wanna!

I hate laundry. There's a lot of chores that I don't like; doing dishes, dusting, scrubbing toilets... you get the idea. I generally don't like housework. Yeah, I'm kind of lazy like that.

But laundry? Sucks. It didn't use to be so bad. My mom use to do my laundry. Until she got tired of cleaning up after both my never-cleaning-always missing-father, and my ill-tempered self.

One day, at the young age of 10, she decided I would take some responsibility and taught me how to do my own laundry. I was never a white-wearing person, so bleach wasn't an issue.

I became the good little daughter, switching loads of laundry even when they weren't mine. Even after that time I flooded the garage because I shoved a few too many towels in the washer, my mom was proud. Maybe not as much when I overstuffed the dryer and broke it, so we had to line dry our clothes until the repair man came.

When I moved in with my dad and his fourth wife in high school, I followed my same regimen of cleaning clothes. I had learned my mistakes, but I started to actually fight to do my own laundry. Cassy would sneak into my rooms while I was at school and do loads of laundry. It shouldn't have mattered. Except for the drops of bleach that kept appearing on my black clothes, that I was wearing more frequently. And many of my other items were not washed correctly (i.e. in hot, when it should have been cold) and many of my clothes were ruined. Did I mention that I bought most of my own clothes, with my own money (not chore money)?


Having a family automatically means more clothes to wash. But having a baby? Means ENDLESS clothes to be washed. On top of that, I have to clean MrB's things for work and since we're not exactly rolling in dough, he only has enough shirts to make it through one work-week.

All this to say, I don't wanna do laundry this weekend! Sometimes, you just don't have a choice. Unless the other choice is being naked. And really? I'm okay with that. (hey, it's not winter yet)

LilB's Birth Story: Going Home

Catch up here.

On Wednesday, they did an MRI which showed that there was damage to the brain. However, it also showed that no further damage had been done since his first CT scan, so he was not having seizures. They decided by Friday, we could take him home.


We were thrilled! We called family and friends to report the good news.


That day, we moved from Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, to Pediatric Care, which was a room of our vary own, with a window seat that turned into a bed, a television, it's own bathroom, and best of all, a recliner. The plan was that we'd go home that night and bring out things the next day to stay Thursday night.

They needed to make sure we could care for our son, so we took CPR classes there and a small class on what to do it he has a seizure.


The first day he was transferred was a little rough. The nurse made him cry for the first time ever while drawing blood from his arm, so a different nurse came in and drew it from his foot, which he did fine with (not sure why the other nurse didn't do it that way). Then they did his circumcision, which MrB and I still discuss whether or not the doctor botched it (it was her first time).

We went home that night, feeling like kids waiting to open presents on Christmas morning. I carefully selected his outfit for the next day and the day he would go home. We brought books, his car seat, and clothes for ourselves, but never remembered to bring a camera; we were just so elated.

The next day, we went to the hospital a little later then normal. The nurses reported that he was doing fine and that would do the car seat test today; they had to make sure nothing was obstructing his airway while he was sitting it. He passed.

The whole day was spent rocking, feeding, changing cooing over LilB. I mostly slept in the recliner, waiting to feed LilB throughout the night. MrB woke up a few times, the proud father smile disappearing from his face as he would fall back asleep. Early the next morning, the nurses said we could leave whenever we were ready.

That afternoon, we took our little boy home. And much like in the movie, Knocked Up, I rode in the back with LilB, all the way home.

Design Star: Season 3

This is the first season I've watched Design Star and, I admit, I am a little HGTV obsessed. I was so bummed when Mikey V went home, leaving the final three.

Mikey V

He is such a talented carpenter, I really thought he deserved to be in the final two. He was a bit nervous during the hosting portion, which is why he got kicked off. That sucked, because I think once he loosened up a bit, he would have been WAY better then Matt. Plus, he could be my next Wentworth Miller. Do I unconsciously have a thing for bald guys?

Trish

Another lovely designer, who didn't talk too much crap or take much of it either (particularly when Tracey tried to throw her under the bus because her finger had swollen up around her wedding band and her hand was turning numb during episode 6). Between her last design and Matts', I think she should have been in the final two.

Matt

Nice guy. Not bad for television. He was too much of a minimalist for my taste, but some people like that. I'm not sure he would have been diverse enough to please his clients, but he did a great job on the New Orleans family's home. I do wish he would have stopped yelling so much during the finale. It's great to be excited, but the mic didn't handle it too well. Neither did my speakers.

Jennifer

I've been rooting for her since the beginning. She's from KC, so I automatically thought if she won, she'd be able to come do my home! Not only is she a great host, she is a very talented artist. Jennifer, you better believe I'll be calling you once we get a home! We voted for you!!

I tried to get some pics of the rooms they did on their last episode, but the site was down. You bet I'll be blogging more about next season!

LilB's Birth Story:Part 7 The First of The Last

Catch up here.

By the second week, MrB and I were feeling a lot more confident about LilB's progress. We talked to relatives more, giving them updates about his feeding and things like that. I invited both MrB;s parents and my dad and his wife up to the hospital, but only MrB's parents came. Our pastor also came, though we aren't the most frequent church attenders. Our family was put into several prayer chains.

Everyday, we'd drive to and from the hospital. When we left the hospital, we often stopped at a store to pick up something new for LilB; a book, an outfit (they let him wear his own clothes), a stuff animal. We had already brought his mobile the second day, so his space could be personalized.

Finally, they were able to take the breathing tube from his nose, which only left the feeding tube. They still wanted to make sure his stomach was strong enough to handle breast milk before removing the tube. However, with the majority of his lines gone, I was able to get some skin to skin time, which was extremely peaceful.

Please forgive my appearance, as I really didn't care about what I looked like.

An occupational therapist came early that second week, to acess whether or not his mouth and tounge were strong enough for oral feeding. She did the first bottle feeding herself starting with the smallest amount. When the bottle was empty, it was clear he wanted more, which was more then the doctors had expected.

After about two days of bottle feeding, the OT reported we could move to breastfeeding. The lactation consultants visited with us and even stayed to help with the first initial feeding. It was an amazing experience. I was beginning to feel like a mom.