Remembering Jonathan's birth...

As we approach the birth of our second son, I have been thinking about the birth of our first.  Here is what happened.  I expect tomorrow to be much different...

Last June, I went into preterm labor (before 37 weeks pregnant).  I didn't know that was what was happening to me until I went to the Regency Hospital in my hometown and the doctor told me so.  He said the baby would likely not survive if we chose to have him, and if we wanted to be aggressive about saving him I could be flown to a hospital 30 miles away. 

Less than an hour later Jeff was driving as fast as he could to get to the hospital in Orlando, and I was en route by helicopter.  I was drugged up on magnesium sulfate which made me feel like my skin was burning from the inside out.  To make matters worse I was flying in a helicopter that was more like a fishbowl with no A/C.  The paramedics that were with me were sweating through their flight suits.  I felt bad for them.  I also physically felt bad, and I kept telling myself "Don't pass out, we're almost to the hospital..."  In hindsight, it may have been the perfect place to pass out seeing I had medical professionals with me.

Once I got to the hospital I was rushed to the labor and delivery floor where the doctors did an ultrasound and saw that the baby was ok.  The Mag (magnesium) was working and my contractions had stopped, but I was already 70% effaced (translation: there wasn't much barrier between my baby and birth).  I was so hot and thirsty.  Jeff was by my side keeping a wet wash cloth on my forehead.  He kept asking the doctor if I could have water and hours later he finally allowed me to eat some ice chips.  Around midnight I was allowed to eat, but anything I ate I threw up.

The rest of the night I tried to rest.  I had electronic monitors on my stomach to monitor my contractions and the baby's heart rate.  Since Jonathan was so little at that point (I was 23 weeks along), he kept moving away from the monitor and the nurse would have to come back and and readjust it.  Whenever I had to get up to use the bathroom, I had to wake Jeff up, have him help me unplug myself from the monitors and pull my IV cart with me.

Once the doctor felt sure I was not on the verge of delivering a baby, I was moved to the high-risk unit, for women who, for whatever reason, were in danger of having a baby.  The room we were in was the size of a shoebox.  There were much bigger, nicer rooms we were told, but they were all occupied and as soon as one became available we would be moved.  Jeff had to sleep in a recliner that reclined only to a 45 degree angle, so he had to sleep with his feet propped up on the bed as there was no room in our tiny room for an air mattress or cot.

I did pretty well in that tiny room.  I had contractions still, but they were not strong and my cervix was holding strong.  I had a medicine pump in my leg which is basically a needle attached to what looked like a pager (like what was cool before cell phones).  I kept the pager clipped to my hospital-issued underwear (those are SO sexy) and the needle was always in my thigh.  It gave me medicine every so often to keep the contractions away. 

After a couple of days we were awakened to the wonderful news that we would be movin' on up to the east side, ie the new high-risk rooms.  These rooms were spacious, had wonderful views, mini fridges and a lot of them had their own bathrooms (with showers!)  But wouldn't you know it, I went into labor not long after we were moved to our beautiful room.  So back to L&D we went, and if I remember correctly I was back on the Mag.

Hours later, once I was cleared again, we were at the bottom rung of the high risk rooms, and went right back to our shoebox.  It was only a day until we were moved to a better room, so we were thankful for that.

Once we got back to our nice room, we settled in.  I had my mom bring me a bunch of snacks for the mini fridge and got all my books and stuff situated in my bed-side table.  I was in it for the long-haul and had made it to 24 weeks (which is the "edge of viability" - the earliest a baby can be born and have a fair chance of survival). 

A few days later I awoke with a lot of pelvic pressure and feeling like I had to pee all the time.  The nurse thought I had a UTI so she was going to test me.  Jeff was preparing to head home as he had to prepare to lead worship at church.  I had a feeling that it wasn't a UTI and that something might be wrong (although I had no contractions for over 24 hours), so the nurse told Jeff to stay until a doctor could examine me.  A short time later, the doctor came in and did a pelvic exam.  "I'm not sure, but I think I feel the baby's head... Yes, that's a head.  She's 4 centimeters dilated." 

That was it.  I was being rushed back to L&D with the nurse loudly announcing to everyone "WE HAVE A 24 WEEKER!"  She kept telling me how remarkable it was that I was so calm and I thought "Why wouldn't I be?"  I wasn't having contractions, was in no pain, and thought they'd probably put me back on the Mag and things would go back to normal.

About an hour after they moved me to L&D, the contractions were hurting.  I was gripping the side of the bed and couldn't talk when they came on.  The nurses were acting like it was no big deal, so I was trying not to freak out although I knew this was very different from the other times I had been to L&D.  After about 15 minutes of the painful contractions I informed the nurse I was either going to puke or mess the bed because of the intense pressure I was feeling.  Her advice was "Don't push."  "Yeah right!" I thought.  My mom and Jeff were with me trying to keep me calm until the doctor could come see me.  I started feeling like I had to push or I'd die, so I did and my water burst.  Once that happened Jeff ran out into the hallway to get a nurse. 

After my water broke, I felt immediate relief and the contractions stopped.  Nonetheless, Jeff was suited up in his paper suit and we were being taken to the operating room.  The doctor did an ultrasound and saw I was dilated to 6 centimeters, and Jonathan's head was barely 5 cm.  "This baby is coming, you're going to have to push."  I couldn't bear to open my eyes.  I was hyperventilating and can remember the nurse telling me, "Blow out the candle...in through your nose out through your mouth...blow out the candle."  I wanted to hit her.  I didn't want to face that I had failed at staying pregnant and I certainly didn't want to deliver my baby 16 weeks before he was due.  But I pushed when they told me to, I think it was 3 times.  Once he was born I remember Jeff telling me to open my eyes and see my son.  I didn't want to.  I didn't want any of that to be happening because it was a sure death sentence for my first child.  But I did.  I heard him whimper once and then they passed him through what looked like a drive through window into the NICU.  The nurses all remarked how great it was that he made a tiny noise. 

I remember Jeff saying, "Praise God!" once Jonathan came out.  I thought to myself "Why is he saying that?  This is a horrible situation."

I laid on the table in a daze while the doctors and nurses did whatever they had to do to me.  I tried to block everything out.  I felt ashamed and like a failure.

About an hour or so later I was put in a wheelchair and taken to the NICU to see my son, Jonathan, which means "gift from God".  I had never seen anything so tiny and helpless as he laid there squirming, IVs running through his tiny body, eyes fused shut.  I didn't have much experience with newborns, but I knew they weren't supposed to look like that.

Later we were put in our new room on the maternity floor.  I could hear babies being rolled up and down the hallway, where their mothers were waiting in their rooms to nurse their little bundles of joy and cuddle with them.  I, on the other hand, got cozy with a breast pump and waited for the visit from the neonatologist.

The news was grim: Jonathan was born at less than 2 pounds with an E. Coli infection in his bloodstream, and it may or may not be in his spinal fluid and brain.  His lungs were severely underdeveloped.  In short, he was very sick and all things considered the outlook was not good.  The doctor told us he would know more if Jonathan survived the next 48 hours.

Until I was discharged from the hospital a couple of days later, I would pump and Jeff and I would take the milk down to the NICU where it would be put in a freezer for if and when Jonathan was ready to tolerate it.  We spent a lot of time by his incubator praying for him and crying, but trying to be strong in front of our family, who was as distraught as we were.  I can remember one day in the cafeteria with my mom where I finally broke down crying, saying "I should still be pregnant.  It isn't fair that he is struggling to live.  He should still be safe inside me."  I had to be reminded that he was sick inside of me and had he not been born, he might have died.

The day I was discharged, we were blessed to have a room at the Ronald McDonald House to go to, so we were only a block away.  I had been at the hospital for a week already, though, so we had a lot of stuff to take with us.  I had been given flowers and an "It's a Boy!" balloon, which was tied to the wheelchair.  As I was being wheeled out with all my stuff and my balloon, I tried to avoid all the looks that asked "Where is the baby?"

I cried driving the block from the hospital to the McDonald House because we were leaving our baby behind in a medical institution, and there was no body and no amount of money that could get him out.

116 days later, we were finally able to bring him home with us.  We had dreamed of that day for so long, and a few times we thought death would claim our son before we had the chance to bring him home.  But thank God for saving our son.  Jonathan has lived up to his name in every sense; God has truly given us such a great gift.

Jonathan the day he was born, and now at 20 months old.

Tomorrow morning around 8:30 we will meet our second son, Isaac.  I'm not sure what his birth story will be like, but God is faithful and he is good; I have high hopes. 

If you want to read more in detail about Jonathan's hospital stay, click on the CaringBridge link at the top of the page.
 

6 Months Pregnant and Wiser

We are 26 weeks and 4 days pregnant, which is 15 days further along than we were when Jonathan was born (yes, this is how I measure my pregnancy - by how much further we are this time!).

24 weeks pregnant with current baby boy.

23 weeks pregnant with Jonathan.

I am going through some new things that I didn't get to with Jonathan, such as maternity pants becoming too tight; stretch marks; forceful kicks to the bladder; becoming easily winded; drinking disgusting liquid for a glucose test (that's tomorrow so technically I haven't experienced it yet but I hear it's unpleasant); and weighing more than I ever thought I would.

Because of all this, it's common for women in my stage of pregnancy to start to phase out of second trimester bliss and into third trimester misery.  I am susceptible to that, but I just read a letter written to a preemie named Charlotte by her mom, and it hit me hard (you can read it here).  How can I possibly complain about this?  Have I already forgotten the sleepless nights, the constant burden of having a baby who was born too small and too soon?  Is it possible I don't remember the weight of knowing I couldn't just take my baby and go home, yet somehow I was expected to take care of myself?  I have been so caught up in life as I now know it, that the horrors of the NICU seem like a distant memory; carrying my newborn around as he is connected to a continuous flow of oxygen and strapped to make sure he is breathing and his heart is beating is a faint memory.  I hardly remember the hours of physical therapy we have been through - some of it so strenuous that Jonathan would cry for 20-30 minutes straight while the therapist tried to teach him the most basic developmental skills that came unnaturally to him because he spent so much time laying flat in the hospital.

How dare I take one second of this pregnancy for granted; how could I possibly complain about any of this?  God was (and is) so good - He brought our baby Jonathan through what seemed like certain death and he is the light of our lives.  And now God is giving us another great gift by allowing our second son to stay safe inside of Mommy where he should be.  And if that makes me uncomfortable then so be it!

It's sad that after all we've been through I can so easily forget that pregnancy is nothing compared to the nightmare that is prematurity, and I am not exaggerating.  But this is my wake-up call and I will not complain.  I lost the privilege to be one of those complaining pregnant ladies who says, "I can't wait to get this baby out,"; prematurity stole it from me just as it stole the joy that comes with having your first baby; I was robbed of being wheeled out of the hospital with my newborn and everyone telling me "Congratulations!"  Instead, I couldn't bear to open my eyes to see the birth of my son - I felt ashamed and saddened that he was born; people gave me weird looks as I was wheeled out of the hospital with flowers and "It's a boy!" balloons, but no baby.  No matter how thankful I am for our son Jonathan, I would never want to endure that situation again.

Now it looks like I will get that chance to have a "normal" pregnancy.  We have 3 more months to go, and I thank God for every day I get to experience.  And I recognize I wouldn't realize the brightness of this gift if it weren't for the darkness I experienced by it being taken from me.

My Prematurity Rant

I usually don't get caught up in "celebrity" stuff, but being Prematurity Awareness month I can't hold my tongue. 

Michelle Duggar (of the TLC show 19 Kids and Counting) is pregnant AGAIN.  She had her last baby at 25 weeks due to severe preeclampsia (read about her last pregnancy here).  She has an estimated 60% chance of developing that condition again with this pregnancy, to which the only cure is delivering her baby; so she has a 60% chance of having an extremely premature baby, who in turn has a high chance of not surviving, or suffering from life-long medical complications (read about extreme prematurity here). 



As you probably know, I had an extremely premature baby last year (at 24 weeks).  Doctors are still not positive why he came so early, but they think it was due to an infection of the amniotic fluid, or an incompetent cervix.  I had a surgical procedure to strengthen my cervix (I am currently 22 weeks preggo and holding strong!), and I am being monitored for any infections or signs of preterm labor.  In short, although I had one preemie, the odds are not in my favor of having another one (unlike the Duggar baby  machine).  I'm saying this to qualify myself as someone who can speak her 2 cents.

You may be asking "Why does it matter if she has another one?"  Well, for one thing, the nature of preeclampsia is so dangerous, that seeing as she already has 19 kids and 2 gandkids, it is an extreme risk to impose on herself and her unborn baby.  Along with the stress on the rest of the family that accompanies having a baby in intensive care, preemies as early as hers is likely to be have medical problems that last long after hospital discharge.  My son Jonathan, for example, is 16 months old and is still undergoing physical therapy; breathing treatments; brain MRIs every 6-12 months; and monthly vaccinations to protect him from a common cold virus (RSV).  And he is considered a 24-weeker miracle!  Many babies born before 28 weeks have all these problems but to a more debilitating degree.

In addition to the health risk to her and her baby, a preemie costs a lot of money.  I am sure the Duggars' insurance and money from their TV show is sufficient to pay any hospital bills, but taxpayers can still end up footing at least some of the bill  Any baby born below 1200 grams automatically qualifies for disability under SSI and receives Medicaid during and for up to a year after their hospital stay.  NICUs are expensive places:  Jonathan's total bill was over $1,000,000, and he was only there 4 months!  (I say "only" because there are many babies, some born later than him, who stay much longer).  If you continue to qualify for Medicaid after discharge (which baby Duggar may or may not), it pays for all medical treatments then, too.

In short, considering the tremendous burden she is putting on her body, plus the cost of having a preemie and the health risk she is running with her unborn baby I say why take a chance on having another unhealthy pregnancy and birth?  It is not fair to the baby, knowing that he or she may have to fight for their life for months in a hospital.  It isn't fair to ask your family to sacrifice and go through the horrible NICU experience again.  In some cases, having a preemie is preventable, even if that means you just don't get pregnant anymore.  Having a uterus does not mean you should use it!

Side note:  I realize there is a chance she will have a totally healthy pregnancy and carry full term, and I sincerely pray that is God's plan for her.  I know God can heal and accomplish things when doctors and statistics say it isn't possible.  That being said, I still believe in human responsibility and decision-making.  I could consider walking across I-4 as cars zoom by at 70 MPH and trust that God loves me and will care for me, but the chances of me getting hit and killed by a car are so good that I probably wouldn't take that chance.  God loves me so much that he gave me a functional brain with which to process such information and make the best decision I can.  I am thankful for that, and pray others would use their brains, too.

Thanks for letting me rant!

September 11th

 Ten years ago, I was sitting in a classroom at Winter Haven High School.  The words "terrorism", "jihad", "national security", "Patriot Act" - none of them meant anything to me.  Then the principal made an announcement telling the teachers to turn the TVs on.  The image appeared just in time for us to witness the planes hitting the WTC towers and and the towers crumbling.  I couldn't believe what I was seeing - it looked like something staged in Hollywood for some action movie.  I felt scared for our country, and once I learned Washington DC was a target, too, I became very concerned.  Even as a 17 year old girl I knew this was the beginning of a new chapter for our country.

One  year ago, I thought Jonathan would never come home from the NICU as a healthy baby.  He was 70 days old and still on a breathing machine.  We had also just gotten news that he was almost certainly going to be blind unless the hospital would approve a radical surgical procedure to save his vision.  We waited anxiously for over 8 hours to hear the results of the emergency meeting that was called to determine if the procedure would be approved.  Thank God, it was.

On two accounts, 9 years apart, September 11th has taught me that whatever situation is immediately facing me may seem insurmountable; I may have no direction and be powerless to do anything.  But God is not that way.  He is sovereign.  He goes before me and makes a way when I can't see one.  He provides for me in all situations.  I thank God for the experiences He's given me, and in those times He has proven that He will never leave me nor forsake me.  He has upheld me with His victorious right hand.

This Thursday I will have outpatient surgery to have a cerclage put in place in hopes that I can carry Baby #2 to full-term.  I am not scared of the surgery.  I am guilty of being anxious about the rest of the pregnancy, though.  But all I need to do is think back to how the Lord has provided for me, and I am convicted of my lack of faith.  I am thankful for modern medicine, and the extra watch the doctors will keep over me during this pregnancy.  But more than that, I am thankful for the God who never sleeps nor slumbers, and who creates life within me, where no one can see.

Goodbye, sweet Summer!

Things have been really busy around here lately.  Summer is pretty much coming to an end for us, and even though we don't have school-age kids, things are still getting into "school mode".  Jeff is in seminary at RTS in Orlando getting his Master's in Biblical Studies.  He is about 1/3 of the way through the program, taking some courses online and driving to the campus for others.  This semester he will be spending all day one day a week in Orlando. 

With school also comes cold and flu season.  Last year at this time, Jonathan was still in the hospital so it wasn't too much of a concern for him (unless we caught it and brought it to him).  But this year, he is a big boy and spends a lot of time around other kids.  There is a particularly dangerous (and very common) virus this time of year called RSV, and babies with damaged lungs like Jonathan has are very susceptible to it.  There is a shot he can get every month to protect him from it, but we are waiting to see if our insurance will cover it again.  If they deny it, we can appeal, but I pray we don't have to go down that road.

This upcoming season I will be starting my second trimester of pregnancy.  We are hoping for a girl but still have a long time until we can find out.  Things are remarkably better with this pregnancy than they were last time.  At 11 weeks pregnant with Jonathan, I was suffering from a subchorionic bleed and was on complete bed rest.  It was no fun, to say the least.  This time, everything is going normally, and morning sickness gets the better of me every 3 days or so.  Hopefully that will be ending soon though.  I am scheduled to see a maternal/fetal specialist because of the way things went with the last pregnancy - more to come on that.

Praying things are well with you all.  Much love from the Skipper Family!

When I give Jonathan his nightly breathing treatments, I take a little time for myself to peruse Facebook, check email and whatever else I can do with one hand (while the other tries to keep his mask in front of his face).

Today was a particularly challenging day with Jonathan because he wasn't happy anywhere except in Mommy or Daddy's arms.  This makes it hard to get anything done, and it is very stressful to hear your baby cry all day while you wonder, "What does this baby need?!"  He's crying right now!

But I realized tonight that there are some families that would give anything to hear their baby cry.

While browsing the Facebook homepage I came across the name of I person who is from the same town as me, and who Jeff and I also unexpectedly met in the NICU in Orlando.

He and his wife just had a baby, born full-term, and unexpectedly rushed to Orlando from the small hospital where she was born.  Their baby was terminally injured during her birth and after 6 days of being on life support, they were told she was brain dead and they family made the heart-breaking decision to take her off life support, where she passed peacefully back to her Father.

I couldn't help but look at this man's profile, not sure of what I was looking for, but then I saw an album which had the title of his beautiful daughter's name.  I scrolled through the album, which began with pictures of a baby in the NICU and had people's comments like, "Oh, she looks just like you!" and "How cute!"   Those comments broke my heart because I knew what happened in the end.  But I kept scrolling through.  I came across a picture of the mother, holding her baby, with her other 2 kids gathered around her.  The mother's face was turned away from her baby in agony, eyes shut.  I covered my face and began to sob.  I couldn't help myself.  Here I was getting frustrated at my son's inconsolable crying, and this woman may feel as if she'd give anything to hear her baby girl's cries.

I am thankful that I saw these pictures, as tragic as they were, because they've made my babies cries music to my ears again.  In the hospital, in those 8 long weeks that Jonathan was on a ventilator, we always said it would be music to our ears to hear his voice.  And now we hear it every day.  Some times as playful babbling, other times as loud screeching and crying.  Either way I am thankful for it, and very sorry that I ever took it for granted.

Reflection

WOW!  I know it's been a while since I posted anything.  I could go on and on with why but to be concise - I am the mom of a preemie!  'Nuff said.

I wanted to write tonight though, because it is cathartic to write, and maybe a NICU mom, or friend of one, will stumble upon this and be able to relate, or be encouraged, or get a laugh at my expense (I've laughed at others' expense and it felt so good so I will gladly be that for you if you need it).

However, I don't think this post will be a funny one.

If you are not a preemie parent, you may have a hard time understanding this.  But if you've ever been through something life-changing or traumatizing, then you probably can relate.

There are some times when I can't help but cry.  I think about everything Jeff and I went through with the events surrounding the conception, pregnancy and birth of Jonathan.  To look at us today, you might think, "What's the big deal?  Everything turned out fine!"  Yea, we are all home as a family and doing very well and we are so thankful for that because it is what we have dreamed of since July 3rd.  But that day will always be marred in my mind because of the unplanned birth of our son.  I know, it was God's plan.  And I believe His way is perfect.  That still doesn't take away the deep scar that it left.  I can remember once my water broke, I couldn't bring myself to open my eyes.  I didn't want to see what was going on as they wheeled my bed out of the delivery room and into the operating room.  I didn't want to see my husband dressed in scrubs to watch Jonathan as he was born; I didn't want to see my baby afterwards because I knew the slim chances of his survival.  I am crying as I write this because although things have turned out remarkably well for us, there is still deep pain in the back of my mind.  I can't explain why it's still there, but it is.  I often replay that day in my head - maybe I'm a narcissist.  But more than that, I don't want to forget that day because that was the day God began to teach us what He was really capable of.  He continued to create life in front of our eyes; he healed blood infections, collapsed lungs, certain blindness, malformed heart valves, brain hemorrhages, and so much more.  He showed me He didn't need me to create life - He used me for 24 weeks and 3 days, then my role was over and the rest was all Him.   He changed our lives forever as we witnessed His power over the course of 116 days.



I went into preterm labor on June 26th - that was when I was admitted into the hospital to try to keep the baby in (he was born a week later).  I have a daily devotional book called "Jesus Calling" which is written as if Jesus is talking to you.  This was the devotional from that day:

Stay calmly conscious of Me today, no matter what.  Remember that I go before you as well as with you into the day.  Nothing takes Me by surprise.  I will not allow circumstances to overwhelm you, so long as you look to Me.  I will help you cope with whatever the moment presents.  Collaborating with Me brings blessings that far outweigh all your troubles.  Awareness of My Presence contains Joy that can endure all eventualities.

Psalm 23:1-4

And I do not believe in coincidences. 

Can the real Marissa Skipper please stand up?

So far, I have been spit-up on just about every day, peed on twice (literally on me because I was carrying him from the tub to the towel) and sprayed during a diaper change 3 times.  I actually went about an hour with my pee shirt on tonight before thinking, "Hmm...this is kind of gross.  I should probably change."

I have also used my pinkie as a paci.  You haven't lived until a toothless creature in a onesie has went to town on your finger...

My name is Marissa Skipper, and I am a mom (everybody: Hi, Marissa!)

This is ALL probably the...I'm not going to say weirdest...most interesting experience of my life.  I find myself doing things that I never thought I would for no other reason than I never thought some of these things were even possibilities in my life.  I never thought being exposed to bodily fluids on a daily basis was really something I would have to experience.  Call me naive, but I was never a baby-on-the-brain type of girl.  I just knew I wanted to have some...didn't realize how a baby totally dominates your life, though.

I can remember knowing people who had kids back in my childless days, and saying to them, "Yea I was totally gonna ask you to come, but then I remembered you were tied down!" and laughing as I said it, as if the person thought being tied down was funny.

Last week a friend of mine told me she went out to eat at my favorite restaurant and was going to ask me to go but then she remembered I had Jonathan and wouldn't have anyone to watch him (my, my, my...how the tables have turned).  At that moment I realize that every parent I've ever known had at once been unattached to a child, had a life of their own.  Now, as many before me have done, I have resigned myself to our child.  He dictates when and for how long I sleep, eat, feed him, bathe him, and even cuddle with Jeff.

Ah, the things you do for love.

 Now to Jonathan, the reason you read this blog (it's ok, my own mother doesn't even ask about me anymore - it's "How's the baby?")

About 2 months ago Jonathan had some shots into his eyes to promote healthy growth of blood vessels to his retinas.  The shots were successful and the doctor has loved what he was seeing until last Tuesday.  He said the healthy blood vessels were starting to get squiggly which is not what he wants to see.  It appears there is an area of the retina in both eyes that still does not have blood vessels attached to it (so it isn't working).  That area is sending a signal out to the eye saying, "I need blood!"  That is what makes the bad blood vessels grow, and can result in retina detachment.  Usually, the doctor will use a laser and burn up those bad areas of the retina.  He couldn't do that a couple of months ago because he would have practically burned up Jonathan's entire retina.  Now, though, it is looking like he is going to destroy these small retina parts.  It shouldn't affect his vision too much though, because his right eye can make up for the loss of vision in his left eye, and vice versa.  BUT we haven't gotten any for sure word that the laser procedure will happen, that is just the impression I got from the last visit.  We go back this coming Tuesday for another exam.

 Jonathan also saw the pulminologist (lung doctor) 

for the first time on Tuesday.  He is doing fine, she 

said, but not well enough to lose the oxygen or apnea 

monitor (bummer).  She started him on Albuterol and 

Pulmicort twice a day using a nebulizer to try and 

strengthen his lungs, and help get him off the oxygen 

sooner.  We did our first breathing treatment today and 

although he wasn't crazy about it, he did pretty well.  

The plan is to continue this for a month and go see the 

pulminary Dr. again, then hopefully we can go to oxygen 

only at night.

That's pretty much it, now.  We see the neurologist next week and he will be looking at Jonathan's brain, and hopefully we get some good news there!

Welcome!

Hello, world!  Welcome to the next installment of Jonathan Skipper.  He's an amazing little guy.  (If you would like to read about Jonathan's life thus far, you can read about it here on CaringBridge).

This is where we'll post how Jonathan is progressing, and how Jeff and I are progressing as parents (it's still a crazy thought that we are Mommy and Daddy!)

If you are a parent, then you know that living with a newborn is so busy!  (For those of you saying, "Wait...he was born in July...?"  Yes, he was, but he wasn't supposed to be born until a week ago so he is developmentally now a newborn.)  Anyway, so we are always busy at the Skipper home, but I will post as often as I can!  Maybe that will be more often than I think since Nanny got Jonathan a swing today!  Lifesaver...

We just spent our first kind-of holiday together for Halloween.  J looked so cute in his little outfits!  We put a table with some Toosie Roll Pops in a bowl at the end of the driveway so Wesley wouldn't be bothersome because he goes crazy when people come to the door.

The pumpkin is actually just a bib, it was just a very big bib.

Jonathan in his jammies.

Jonathan went for his first pediatrician visit last Friday and it went very well.  He weighed in at 8 lbs 10 oz and 20 inches long!  He was wearing clothes though, so those added an oz or two to his weight.  J also saw the retina doctor on Tuesday, and he said Jonathan could not be doing any better!  A couple of months ago he had a procedure done where they injected some medicine into his eyes so blood vessels could grow towards the retinas.  This procedure is so new in infants; the first infants who ever had it done are just now turning 4 and 5 years old, so we will see how things progress in Jonathan.

That's about it for now.  Of course, we are busy being parents.  It's diaper, feed, burp, sleep, clean and rest while J sleeps, then repeat it all.  All while trying to keep Wesley from messing with his new little brother!  Wes is very curious!