Is his head SUPPOSED to look like that? Cue Panic...!

My husband and I were completely shocked that Parker was already going to be moved out of the Intensive Care Unit and onto the regular pediatric inpatient unit. Once again I learned that when a mother knows something, she knows something. I do not know what it is, but at hospitals, they always try to get Parker to drink the pre-mixed formula. He usually guzzles it down like we haven't fed in him two weeks and then the inevitable happens.

He projectile vomits.

This would not be such a big deal if he hadn't just had a shunt inserted. However, it tends to raise eyebrows when an infant projectile vomits after such a surgery. I hate to say I told you so, but I definitely told you so. I said, "Oh man, he really doesn't take that too well. He seems to vomit it up every time."

How many nurses does it take to clean up a projectile vomited Parker? 3 plus one Mother. Welcome to the pediatric inpatient unit! I think they had a private meeting discussing who would be the "lucky" nurse stuck with us the rest of our stay. Man oh man. Nothing like welcoming your new nurse!

Whenever something goes wrong like that in the hospital I immediately think the worst. What if his shunt failed? Oh no, could this be an infection? I pray to the bottle and formula Gods to let Parker eat and keep it down! This will not have been the first time I prayed to these gods and probably not the last. Luckily I packed our powder formula and bottles so Parker could try what he was used to. Sure enough - did the trick. I got Parker to eat about an ounce every hour or so. He was grazing for a good 3 days, but I did not care! As long as he was hydrated and having wet diapers I was satisfied. I did NOT want to see that IV in him again.

Recommendation to other Hydro Mommy's - pack what works for you at home. PJs, Blankies, and Formula/Bottles. Of course the second you get home you must sanitize EVERYTHING, but it definitely helps things get on their way at the hospital. Hospitals are really just a cesspool of germs.

I am not sure if you all realize how amazing my husband is. Last time Parker projectile vomited everywhere Casey took over and fed him because my anxiety kicked in high gear. Well, he did that again in the hospital. This guy, I tell you, a keeper for sure! He has no fear when it comes to Parker. Truly a blessing to both Parker and I. The best Daddy in the entire world.

Daddy & Parker - Meal Time!

We started to wind down for the evening and our nurse came in after shift change. She introduced herself and looked at me and said, "Alright sleep well."

I am like, "Uh...I'm staying here with him. I am not leaving."

She said, "I know. I also know that you slept very little last night. You are not any good to Parker if you aren't rested for tomorrow. Make his bottles and go to sleep. I got this. I have to be up anyway."

She was an angel. I trusted her and trusted everything would be okay. I slept for a blissful 6 hours that evening. It's hard to let nurses take over Operation Parenthood, but believe me, they are experts and will wake you if anything goes wrong. I wish I would have learned that lesson when I first had Parker.

The next morning I remember looking at Parker and thinking..."Wow your head is small. I thought they said your head wouldn't shrink." Then I took a closer look and I about died. Parker's fontanel, or soft spot, was completely concave. I mean, it was nothing short of a kids swimming pool. Absolutely terrifying. I sat in my chair, took one look at my husband and started sobbing.

"Other babies don't look like that," I cried to him.

Well, reality check, he's not like other babies. That reality, always lurking around every corner!

The nurses came in and naturally my nurse was training someone. Boy did she get her gold training star that day. Parker's nurse got down on my level ready for crisis mode, while the trainee stood back and watched. She was honest and said, "I don't know if this is normal. Let's call the Neurosurgeon."

"WHAT! Call the surgeon! Don't you see sick kids all the time. Great. Now there really is something wrong with his head. He's worse off than when we brought him in here!"

I was imagining Parker's brain shriveling away to nothing. At this point it had to be about the size of a California Raisin.

Shockingly, the Neurosurgeon came in about 20 minutes later and told me it was completely NORMAL. Yep, normal. My child has a swimming pool on the top of his head, but it's normal. He then goes on to tell me that it will be get even more concave. So not only will Parker have a swimming pool, but eventually, like next week, he will have a deep end in that pool. He also showed me that if you look real close you can see Parker's pulse. My husband and I have chatted about this a couple of times. We do not recall a time where we could see Parker's pulse on the top of his head, but apparently, that too is normal. I check Parker's pool 3439483 times a day.

Quickly the Neurosurgeon learned how neurotic I am and gave me a whole tutorial of Parker's new head. We needed a map to navigate all the changes. You can now see every seam, bump and soft spot. To be able to feel and see the bones and structure of his head was very much scary to me. It's hard for me to forget about what I've seen on other babies. They do not compare. Other babies have heads that are seamless-the bones seem to match well together. Parker's head, on the other hand, is like a jig saw puzzle. His head is very stretched out from the pressure. His head isn't supposed to be 18.5 inches so he will in essence have to grow into it. It has gone down a couple centimeters, but that will probably be about it. He also has a pretty bad flat spot because he can't lift that big ole head just yet.

The neat thing about the pool on top of Parker's head is that it serves as a pressure tool to the doctors. While he still has that soft spot we are able to see if the shunt is programmed properly. If the bones get too close, or overlap, then we need to adjust the pressure in his shunt. Remember, reprogramming is no big thang for Parker! Bonus!

The doctor told me that a lot of people don't think they can touch different parts of their heads, but you can (gently of course) and should, especially if you are a Hydro Mommy.

Stay in the Shallow End

Man, what a morning we already had. Wasn't up for twenty minutes before I had my first breakdown.

After I wiped my snot away and my blood pressure resumed it's normal levels, I was able to take a look at my son and not freak out. It was at that moment that I feel like Parker looked at me for the first time, like really looked at me. I smiled and he smiled back.

Shut the Shunt Up!

After what seemed like a million hours (in reality only 3 1/2) the nurse popped her head in our PICU suite and told us Parker would be on his way back up. Everyone was asked to leave, except my husband and I, so that they could bring Parker back into his room in that over-sized crib. Looking back, I could have fit in that crib with my husband, two dogs, Parker and spring wardrobe.

While Parker was in surgery we had a couple visitors and that certainly helped pass the time. That was by far the longest 3 1/2 hours of my life. I thought for sure that something went wrong because they told us normally it takes 3 hours (there's that word normal again). At 3 1/2 hours, I was freaking out.

Before Parker came to the room the Neurosurgeon came to brief us. He was, of course, shocked at the amount of people in our room waiting for Parker. Yep buddy, we are large and in charge kind of family and proud of it. After the luck we've had we aren't traveling alone. He told us that Parker did great and there weren't any complications. He then pulled up the scan of Parker's little head at birth when he was in the NICU and the scan now. Wow. His ventricles quadrupled in size. How on earth was that little baby even functioning? The doctor then informed us that Parker would be shunt dependent his entire life.

So, a shunt...

Of course Casey and I have come up with several "shunt puns" and we really are having quite fun with it. Our favorite is "Keep Calm and Shunt On" and "Shunt the front door"! Of course the title of this particular entry is one of our favorites as well.

Shunts are very serious and in all reality there really isn't anything funny about them, besides the term, shunt. They gave Parker a VP Shunt. It's inserted on his right side behind his ear. It looks like a AA Battery underneath his skin. Fortunately his hair will grow right over it. Receiving a shunt as an infant is really a blessing in disguise, he won't know it any different. The shunt was inserted in his head and a tube that drains the fluid runs all the way down to his abdominal cavity. For the longest time (or like two hours) we literally thought this fluid would go in his actual stomach. That would be why the Neurosurgeon looked at me like I was an idiot when I asked, "Won't he have belly aches?" Um no. His body will absorb the fluid. They put enough tubing in there to grow with Parker. So, if all goes well, he might not need another one for a long, long time.

Casey and I discussed the hard conversation we will have with Parker about his shunt. This conversation already brings tears to my eyes. I do not want him to feel different, but I want him healthy. No matter how you swing it, he won't be like the other "normal" little boys. He will never play football or contact sports, unless he does it behind my back. Which he will no doubt! The shunt will become a part of who he is and that little shunt saved his life. When he gets angry that he has one, we will remind him of that and tell him to "shunt up".

We have also quickly learned that there are many things to watch out for when kids have shunts. For instance metal detectors. Keep far away from those! iPad 2s are an apparent no-no, but iPhones are okay. Strange but true. The hardest one will be refrigerator magnets. What kid doesn't like to play with magnets? So if Parker comes over to play at your house, just hide them. I do want to deal with an emergency trip to the ER to have his shunt reprogrammed. MRI machines are also a danger zone. Mind you Parker had a total of 3 while we were in Iowa City. Only one time did it affect the pressure in his shunt.

Reprogrammig his shunt is amazingly simple. It doesn't hurt him at all, thankfully. Of course you would have thought the Neurosurgeon was killing him when he pulled that wand out and set it next to his head!

I asked, "Can he feel that because he sure is upset?"

"No. Kids hate the wand," he replied.

Okay friend, maybe try some stickers or toys or something. They hold up this magic white wand device and measure the pressure. Our magic number is 1.5. We always have to remember 1.5! Casey asked if we could have one of those magic white wands and the answer was no. Worth a shot though!

That's enough about shunts-there's enough information about them to talk all day and I'm sure Parker will give me plenty of material to write about them at a later date. I can already picture him playing with someone he's not supposed to...back to Parker coming out of surgery!

It's hard to remember exactly what the doctor was rattling off in that moment. The only thing I really heard was, "Parker was okay and did great." He did mention that shunts have an incredibly high rate of failing the first year or so. Okay, so with our luck we will be traveling right back to have a new one put in. Now that we know this we won't be as devastated if it happens.

Here is a picture of before and after. You can see how large his ventricles are (white blobs) in just 3 months.

Parker's Scan -December 2013

Parker's Scan - March 2014

Parker's Huge Crib 

When little Parker came into the room accompanied by the anesthesiologists and nurses my heart skipped a beat. He looked so frail and innocent in that moment. Tears immediately began to fall. My angel was alive and the staff said he did amazingly well. I held his little hand and told him that I knew it hurt, but everything would be okay. The pain would go away.

At that moment I felt like I could breath. He did so well they were going to already transfer him out of intensive care and to the general pediatric floor. These were all good things.

Then Parker projectile vomited, everywhere. This wouldn't be a huge deal except for the fact that it's a sign of shunt failure. Really...already?

HydrocephaWhata?

Before Parker was diagnosed with Hydrocephalus my husband and I had several conversations on how one actually says Hy-dro-ceph-a-lus. It ranged from Hydrosyphyllis, not to be related to the STD (courtesy Casey) and Hydracephallitis; fancy up the name is all (courtesy me). Don't worry, we have since figured it out. Parker no longer has to be embarrassed by his parents' inability to pronounce his condition! We actually have a pronunciation conversation on film. Good times.

When we were at the ER the nurse actually let us accompany Parker to the MRI. I am not a radiologist by any means, but I am not a complete idiot. I saw the scan pop up and I saw a lot of white on his little brain. I mean, A LOT of white. His ventricles were enlarged to the point where they took up the entire scan. It was terrifying. I remember seeing black marks when it was blood and now white...hmm...different, but definitely not good...def, def not good.

We got back to the room and I told Casey, "Parker has Hydrocephalus." He looked at me like I was slipped something from one of the nurses (at this point that is exactly what I wished for). Then with my bionic hearing I heard one of the nurses ask the on-call if they should just take blood or put in a line. The on-call told the nurse to put in a line because he had Hydrocephalus. I immediately started crying. The doctor came in and was shocked to see that I already knew...well...bionic hearing. When a doctor tells you they are sorry, it's not good. I handed Parker over to Casey, went to the bathroom and threw up.

Parker was admitted that evening around 11PM and we accompanied him to his room in the PICU. As luck would have it we actually were greeted by "Doogie Howser". Doogie treated Parker in the NICU. As crazy as this was, it was reassuring to see him, if only for a brief shift. I just wish I knew his real name... Doogie is an extremely talented and seemingly young doctor. The Pruis family are huge fans of Doogie! Anyone he treats is a lucky patient.

The Neurosurgeon explained that we needed to keep Parker awake throughout the night (scary) and he was scheduled for surgery first thing in the morning. My child is over 16 pounds and they would not let him eat past 10PM. His surgery was scheduled for 9AM and they did not even come and get him until after 10:30AM. I think the most traumatic event for Parker was the fact that he could not eat for over 12 hours. I did the best I could trying to soothe a starving infant. Take my anxiety and multiply it times 1000.

The night before his surgery I slept for a total of 45 minutes. The crazy thing is that I was not even tired, not one bit. I was literally sick to my stomach. Looking at that baby boy lying in the big crib I remember wanting to die. There were times that I would all of the sudden start sobbing and could not catch my breath. I would have given anything to trade places with him. The feeling of helplessness and complete loss of control over your child's health is heart wrenching. Knowing that in just a couple short hours my son would have brain surgery. BRAIN SURGERY at 3 months old. I am ashamed to admit I questioned my faith and questioned God's motives for having this happen to such an innocent child. I was angry. No, I was hella angry!

At 5AM the Neurosurgeon Team came in. To be honest it was nothing short of Grey's Anatomy. I just wish Patrick Dempsey was there...would have softened the blow a little I think. They were like an army of surgeons creeping in the dark. Like literally creeping in the dark! There were so many of them in our tiny PICU room. They initialed Parker's head and I knew it was happening. Apparently they initial the part of the body they are operating on so no mistakes are made.

That's comforting. Let me remind you, it's his brain...! Here, I'll just draw a picture on the side of his head just to be sure you don't make any mistakes at all. A big, "INSERT SHUNT HERE" might have helped me feel a little better. Oye...We are still working on getting those marks off his head by the way. When they make their mark, they make their mark!

Our parents were with us when they took Parker away for surgery. I knew Parker was special, but to get all of our divorced grandparents in one room was nothing short of a miracle. They were are there for him and I hope someday he knows how special that is.

I was the one to put him on the bed to be transported to the operating room. Just when I thought handing him over to the NICU Transport Team was the hardest thing I'd ever do...I could not have been more wrong. I can still remember that moment as if I'm really there. I put him on that bed and he instantly stopped crying as if he knew everything was going to be better. He made a pouty face once he saw me tear up and I put on that brave mommy face for him one last time before they took him out. My husband held his hand until he couldn't go with him any further. I am so thankful for my husband's courage and strength at the moments when I need him to show it most. I literally had nothing left.

It was at that moment that no matter what reassurances were given to me, I knew he may come out a different person or I may never hold my precious son ever again.

It's Just a Big Head

Over two months had passed since Parker was born. He was not having seizures, growing like a weed and lighting up every life he touched. The only thing we really struggled with was the fact that Parker had crying episodes most every night, for about 3 hours. We wrote it off as colic and dealt with it the best we could. This started at about 6 weeks and to date, still happened until he was about 7 months old.

Unless you've had a colicky baby you have not lived. Our nights consisted of playing hot potato, only with a baby and no tossing is involved. We bounce and rock and sing and talk. We've tried everything out there and really the only thing that works is bed time or the sound of a bath. Strange, but true. This child is the next Michael Phelps, but hopefully without the drug incident...hmmm. yeah definitely without that.

Parker LOVES the water.

At around 2 months old Parker was already holding up his head while on his tummy. It was amazing! He was so strong. I had not a doubt in my mind that baby would be sitting up and holding that head early in life. Brain Damage - year right! I took him for his 2 month wellness check up and got smacked in the face with reality again. The "Problem Solving" area of the milestone checklist was a big ole fail. Parker wasn't doing ANY of those things. He could not follow with his eyes in any direction, he would not move his head toward sound, and he certainly wasn't grabbing at objects that were dangled in front of him. I was worried to say the least.

Because of Parker's rough start it wasn't a shock to any of us that he wasn't able to do these things just yet. Our Pediatrician recommended to watch him and discuss it with the Neonatologist at our next visit. Maybe she had some ideas. He thought it was maybe something to do with his vision. I told my husband if we get out of this whole brain damage thing with a vision problem we are very, very lucky!

It was at that appointment that they measured Parker's head. It was nearly 17 inches at 2 months old. When he was born it was 13 1/2 inches. Wow, this kid had a big head! But so does everyone in my family so maybe it's normal. There was that word again, Hydrocephalus. This time, it stuck in my brain.

At home it became a normal routine to measure his head. I couldn't get rid of this bad feeling and quickly started researching Hydrocephalus. I even made my husband call the doctor's office with a head measurement because I had myself convinced he had this condition. At this point there weren't any worries medically so I tried as best as I could to dismiss it. Yes his head was large, but it was still following the curve. I just couldn't get this Hydrocephalus condition out of my brain, though. My biggest regret is not getting an ultrasound of his head or a MRI. I should have demanded it. After all, everything I had read recommended it. His fontanel (or soft spot) was still soft! Let's do this!  As parents we had been through a lot of scares already and were more than likely reading into it. After all, the only symptom he really had was a big head.

I remember countless conversations with my very patient cousin about how I felt something was off. I told her one evening, in complete tears, that I knew he had this condition and no one would believe me. I promised myself that if his head grew to be 18 inches I would do whatever it took to get him seen. Sure enough, a week later, his head measured 18.5 inches. I freaked out and lied to the doctor's office saying I thought he had an ear infection in fear that they wouldn't see me if I just gave them a head measurement again. I KNEW he needed to be seen. I also had to admit to my husband that I was a closet measurer...

His fontanel or soft spot was rubbery. It was never bulging out of his head. He never projectile vomited. He was fussy, but only at night and that's colic right? By time I had taken him in he was probably sleeping more than he was awake and in hindsight that is terrifying to think. When he would sleep, he only wanted to do so in his swing, up right. Our pediatrician was out and I spoke with another doctor. I immediately broke down and told her that he had Hydrocephalus, without a doubt, and I needed help. She listened to me and went well beyond the call of duty to help me. I owe her my life for saving my son's.

At the end of the day a lot of phone calls were made and who knows if messages were ever received at the university hospital's end. No one ever called me back like they promised the doctor and we discussed best options for us at that point. Around noon that day I asked my dad if I would be completely crazy to drag my family to the University to get a MRI. He said to do it and then we'd all know once and for all. I talked my husband into taking Parker to the ER at the University hospital because I knew they wouldn't and couldn't turn us away. I knew we would go there and they would HAVE to treat us. I also told my husband to pack a bag because I knew we'd be there for a while. So, we cut a lot of corners and did not wait for a call back for an appointment or consultation. I knew in my heart that we did not have time for that.

1 hour after being admitted to the ER Parker was diagnosed with Hydrocephalus.

Ventricular What?

The drive to the university hospital was one of the longest drives I've ever had. That and my husband forgot to take the right exit (love you hunny). I was released from the hospital early and swollen from head to toe. I was absolutely miserable, but I could not and would not be without my baby. Luckily, in all of the hospital's glory they had a diagnosis for us by time we arrived at the NICU to see our sweet baby boy.

Parker had a Grade IV brain bleed/ventricular hemorrhage. At some point in his short little life he had suffered some trauma to his head and consequently had a brain bleed. The bleed actually ran out of his ventricle and onto tissue thus giving him episodes, or seizures we later learned.

As any mother out there would think I immediately thought this was my fault. The Neonatologist could read my mind, I swear, and the first words out of his mouth were, 'This is not your fault. You, mom, did NOTHING to cause this." Try telling me that at night when my anxiety keeps me from sleeping. It does not matter how many times I hear it, I will always place the blame on myself for the brain injury. Believe me, I wasn't doing anything physical during my pregnancy. Unless you consider couch lounging and sunbathing physical...

But in all seriousness I did everything right. I walked, swam, ate healthy, took my vitamins, got prenatal care and not to mention signed up for every scan under the sun. Not one thing indicated Parker had anything going on in his head. So, it must have happened during delivery, or, it was simply missed. The Neonatologist was 100% accurate when he told us we'd more than likely never know what caused this. My husband and I simply have no closure. He was tested for every blood disorder and was negative for each one.

Parker had at least two more seizures after he was admitted to the NICU. Very early on he has been good at performing in front of the right people. The Pediatrician at the hospital after birth and then in front of a Neurologist in the NICU. The Neurologist said, "Yep, that was a clinical seizure."

They gave Parker a HUGE dose of Phenobarbital and the poor baby was out for hours. One day he was so out of it he forgot to pee. Real life.

I am not sure how many of you have ever had babies or family members in NICU's but it is quite a journey on it's own. I commend any family that has been on this journey. It's hard and luckily we were only there for one week, though they kept us guessing daily on when we would be free, which only adds to stress.  In Parker's case he was admitted in the most serious or critical bay's for babies. His neighbors were weighing in at ounces, where Parker was well over 8 pounds. Once he got stronger and starting testing those strong lungs of his we were quickly transferred to a less serious bay.

Looking at the bright side of the situation we were taught how to care for our newborn by some of the best nurses in this country. I learned all kinds of tricks from those Baby Whisperers.

The medication was working and he had his last seizure on Monday, December 23rd.

In one meeting with Parker's Neurologist he briefly mentioned two things: Hydrocephalus and Cerebral Palsey. I mean BRIEF. Never did I leave that conversation feeling like he would get one, or both of those things after we were released from the hospital. We were told that his body would reabsorb the blood naturally. The seizures were just a symptom of blood on the brain.

After about ten hours of tutorials, a circumcision and release instructions we were sent on our way. We were finally taking our baby boy home just in time to celebrate 2014.

Exactly 24 hours after we brought Parker home he started to projectile vomit. Great. They give us this child and a day later we already screwed it up! Naturally his pediatrician is out of the office so we have to see someone else who told us to just "love him, cuddle him and talk to him." The on call pediatrician didn't see anything worrisome about him at that point and it was okay for us to take him home. At the end of the day if he was still vomiting we would be admitted back into the hospital. Luckily what-ever it was passed and he was back to his newborn baby self before we left the clinic.

I had so much anxiety and probably a pretty serious case of post pardum depression that I couldn't even touch my baby. I was terrified I'd hurt him. When he was in the NICU I was actually holding him when he started seizing. Motherhood was not at all what I expected or had witnessed with any of my friends. My anxiety kicked in high gear after the projectile vomiting episode. If it wasn't for my husband I never would have gotten through those first few weeks. While I sat a distance away from him, my husband fed him and took care of him. I was already feeling like a failure of a mother when he got the brain bleed. At this point, I was overwhelmed at the fact that this mother thing was not coming naturally to me like everyone promised.

My husband went back to work so I quickly had to get over any and all anxiety I had about being a mother to a baby that may or may not have projectile vomits or seizures. Parker and I were forced to bond and I didn't look back. I finally had a chance at normalcy with my son. I was going to enjoy my maternity leave.

A little over a month later we took Parker to his check up at the university hospital. We met with the Neonatologist and Neurologist. The Neurologist was pleased with Parker and the fact that he hadn't had any seizures. We decided to meet back up in May to discuss taking him off of the Pheno. The Neonatologist said that he wasn't quite where he needed to be developmentally. It was as if he couldn't move his eyes. He has always been such a strong little guy, but when it came to his head and eyes he just couldn't do any of it.

The thing I can and will always appreciate about that hospital is their ability to be brutally honest, but with a heart. Let's face it. They deliver bad news to parents every single day. The bad news that was delivered to us was a little thing we like to call, "brain damage." You see, the blood that spilled out of the ventricle settled on actual brain tissue - thus creating the potential for brain damage. What kind of damage? No one knows. When I asked what I could do to help my baby they told me, "Just love him." Easy enough. In a nut shell, each milestone Parker was able to meet, the better off he'd be.

One month later...he still could not track objects with his eyes. I was devastated and had a very, very bad feeling.

Who-ever said Normal is Normal ?

When my husband Casey and I found out we were expecting a baby we were THRILLED. In fact, thrilled doesn't even begin to describe how we felt. Other than extreme morning sickness I had a very normal pregnancy. Every appointment, scan, and test came back "normal". In fact, everything about my pregnancy was normal - weight gain, baby measurements, side effects, etc. We decided to find out the gender of our baby and Casey's dreams of sports and fishing came true when we were told that it was a boy. I immediately started picking out items for the nursery, as well as the future little mister's wardrobe. Who-ever said shopping for boys isn't fun is crazy!

It was a cold winter night in December of 2013 when Parker Lee decided to enter the world.  I think at this point I had been in labor for a grand total of 23 hours-just 1 hour away from a cesarean.  My husband was crunching away on Fritos, if I remember correctly, as I was nearing the end of my labor and he on the end of consciousness. At this point Casey was no longer allowed to breath, speak or touch me. Needless to say, it was a little tense in the Pruis Labor Suite at this point. A lot went on in that room and I promise you it was nothing short of the best scene out of the Exorcist. Casey has since been sworn to secrecy as all abiding husbands should be.

The delivery was much like a scene out of a movie. I was pushing, for what seemed like HOURS, and our doctor entered just in the nick of time to deliver our baby. I know I uttered a few profane words along the lines of WHERE THE <BLANK> IS THE DOCTOR?! Reflecting on that, I sure hope I was the only one in labor at that point... Turns out he had to put a plow on his truck. Naturally I had to give birth on the first snowstorm of the season.

People do not say it often enough...OB Nurses are amazing and do much of the "dirty" work when it comes to labor and delivery. As far as nurses go, mine were top notch! Parker came out "normal" - color, crying, and reflexes. He was a rather large baby weighing in at 8 pounds 9 ounces and 20 1/2 inches long. If you asked us, he was beyond normal. He was absolutely perfect. It was and will always be one of the happiest moments in my life. I will never forget when the nurse gave me my sweet baby boy for the first time.

I was in recovery for a while and after the excitement and guests left I was able to shower and recuperate from the chaos that was labor and delivery. As I walked into my room and saw that bed in sight, I saw a pink little bundle of baby next to it. Oh yeah, I had a baby... Terrified does not even begin to describe how I felt.

Who put that purple hat on him? Is he supposed to look like that? Is this the same baby I saw two hours ago? Is he hungry? Will he tell me if he's hungry? Oh wait, he can't talk. I wonder how quickly he can learn sign language? Shoot...! Where are those nurses?! At the end of the day I ended up wheeling that baby to the nursery at 3AM for a little "how do I take care of this lovely crying bundle of joy" tutorial. They giggled, but were more than willing to show me the ropes.

As a new day approached I took my new son to my husband and decided to try to rest before the next round of visitors were due. All of the sudden my husband screamed for me. Parker turned blue and appeared to not be breathing. He rushed him to the nurses. They assured us that it was probably just fluid from delivery as he seemed a little raspy. As a precaution they would watch and monitor him in the nursery for a while. After all we were new parents and by time Casey got Parker to them he had already turned back to his normal shade of pink.

His pediatrician came in shortly after and witnessed what he referred to as an "episode".

Solemn faced he entered our room and told us what he had witnessed and believed it would be within Parker's best interest to be transferred to University of Iowa's Hospital for treatment. He made a quick call on a not so easy situation. I will always be grateful to him for being so quick on his feet that day. It is a pure blessing that he was even there at that moment in time to witness Parker's episode.

Not more than an hour later the NICU Transfer Team arrived to take our son. It was, what I believed to be at the time, one of the hardest things I've ever done. I handed over our newborn son to complete strangers, trusting that they would save him. We had no clue what was wrong. Nurses told us this never happens. Gee, that's great. What happened to our normal baby? Everything changed in a second. Little did I know that one second everything changed...it would be forever.

I do not think there was a dry eye in the nursery on that not so normal winter day.