We've had quite the excitement going on in our household this week, and not necessarily the good kind. I'll start from the beginning as if this is a journal (only far less personal because we are still public here), and I promise to include pictures to keep your attention.
Tuesday, July 24 started off like any other day. We woke up, Jo demanded donuts, I said no, she called grandpa and he said yes. Typical day. Half kidding. In the mornings, I am pretty lucky the way the girls work the schedule. Roslyn wakes up around 4 or 5 for a bottle, then goes back to bed until around 8. Jolene wakes up around 6 or 7 and we have alone time to eat and get ready for the day. This day in particular she was in a funny mood. She wanted to look for clothes to wear in Roslyn's closet. She picked out a bright pink tutu, and a purple tank top hand me down from when she was a baby.

I really could not believe they fit, it was too funny. Of course she thought because I was laughing that she must have been real funny so she proceeded to jump on a spare mattress we have in that room right now, like she was putting on a show. She's such a goof ball. I love it.
Our day followed it's course of spontaneity that it had started. We got Jolene her donuts, we went to my parents house to hang out. On Tuesdays, my parents watch my aunt Chandra. I like to be there on Tuesdays. It helps having more adults there to socialize with her, it keeps her out of trouble haha. We stayed until nap time, and I took the girls home. What a completely normal day it felt like.
At home, I fed both girls. I had laid Roslyn down in her crib just after 1:00pm, and helped Jolene in her room get ready for nap. We have a routine we do, and following the routine helps her go down easier. I was gone with Jolene in the other room no longer than 10 minutes. I had this feeling I needed to check on Roslyn. Mentally, I noted that she was no longer coo-ing as she was when I first left the room but it wasn't alarming to me. She's a newborn, she probably fell asleep, right?
I peeked in on her from the doorway. She looked asleep. I began to step backwards to go to the dryer and pull out towels to fold when I had a feeling I needed to check on her closer. As I approached her, staring at her chest looking for the up-down motion of breathing, I didn't see movement. In what felt like forever but probably was less than 30 seconds, I placed my hand on her belly. I felt nothing. In a dazed panic of confusion, I picked her up and placed my fingers under her nose. Nothing. Like the adrenaline of any emergency situation, panic set in. I began bouncing her in my arms and rapidly patting her back in tearless cries of "breathe! breathe Ros, breathe!"
With a giant gasp of air, followed by a strange gag reflex, and another gasp of air- my fear was not to be confirmed. She was breathing again. My thought process next might not make sense to some, though our pediatrician has said I did the right thing. Many people have asked me why I did not call 911 right away. Well, to be honest it truly had not crossed my mind. My thought was to get her breathing. Once she began breathing again, I felt it was no longer an emergency but just something that needed medical attention right away. As I sat at the computer to IM Jonathan at work, I said a silent prayer of gratitude for the prompting to check further on her. I don't even want to get started on the what if's. I've been there mentally, I've closed that door mentally. No need to put it in writing.
I wrote to Jonathan while I called the doctor. I left a voicemail on the nurses line to please call me, that it was urgent but not an emergency. All the while Roslyn was in my arms crying, and I could not help but to shed a few tears too. I wasn't about to put her down. I held her for 2 hours while I waited for a nurse at the Dr office to call me. Of course, while I waited I told my mom the story, called the dr a second time, and then told the story to my dad. The nurse called me back, I told her the story, she said she needed to relay the details to the pediatrician but to start packing my things because most likely we'd be admitted to the hospital that night.
Jolene was still asleep. It was an unusually long nap for her but I'm grateful for it because I needed the quiet time to think about what was happening, what could be happening and what didn't happen.
I called my parents to tell them I needed to borrow a car. They were going to take Chandra home early, and then come get me. The nurse called me back and said they want to see me in the office first, put her on the monitor there and call ahead to the hospital to get us a room so we could avoid the emergency room wait. I was grateful for that.
I had to wake Jolene up. Those of you who have been here when she wakes up, whether it be in the morning or the afternoon, knows what that is like. Not a happy camper. I quickly changed her and tried distracting her with all sorts of perks she doesn't usually get to have/do. Somehow, I got her into the car with half a smile and no kicking or screaming. My mom drove us into town to the pediatrician's office, and the plan was for my dad to meet us there and take Jo home with him. I was told to have another adult with me to sit with Roslyn in the back to watch her breathe, so my mom wanted to stay with me. Jolene didn't want to leave mommy, so my dad ended up staying too. We had an entourage.
At the doctor's office, the monitoring went well. She had no fever, her pulse was great, her oxygen level was 100%. Still, something wasn't right. Our pediatrician validated my feelings. She said she knows I'm not a mother who brings her child in over every little thing and freaks out about simple viral infections or antibiotic shots (really, I just don't freak out on the outside). She said she could tell this was real and it really happened and that she'd feel more comfortable sending us in the Phoenix Children's Hospital for observation. She said she had a hunch that it was in part due to Roslyn's acid reflux. That perhaps Roslyn literally drowned in it, it was that bad. She wanted overnight observations to confirm this, and rule out everything else.
The hospital isn't far from Jonathan's work. Jonathan was on stand-by wondering what to do. I told him not to drive all the way to the dr office because we might end up going all the way back up into Phoenix anyway. He sat at work awaiting my word. I told him to head to the hospital and meet us there, we were being admitted. All of us loaded up and drove into Phoenix. Once we were checked in, I had my parents leave me one of their cars and take Jolene home. Jonathan stayed until about 7pm, then I had him go home and get Jo to bed the way she's used to her nights going. I wasn't sure if I was staying or not. I had mixed feelings about it. I obviously did not want to leave my baby, but I had another baby at home that was used to waking up and seeing Mommy there. She was used to mommy reading her the books at night. She was used to mommy's way of cooking oatmeal in the morning. I knew Roslyn slept through the night. I knew she would not remember if I was there or not. The deal breaker was that there was no bed in Roslyn's hospital room. Just a dinky recliner. I decided I'd stay until she was hooked up to everything they were going to monitor, feed her one last time, and head home- but then be be back before her next feeding.
Yes, I look drunk. I was drunk on adrenaline and emotionally tired from the "what ifs". I got home around midnight. I accidentally slept in. I called the nurse's station on my way into Phoenix to let them know I was coming and to ask how she did. The nurse said not to worry, she did great and she was being held by one of the nurses right now. I guess nurses like it when family doesn't stay the night because that means that they get to actually do some nurturing themselves. I was grateful for their sweet hearts. I didn't get back to the hospital until 6. Roslyn was already awake for an hour, bathed, fed and happy as the sun.
The nurse said over night she had no breathing issues, and we probably could go home that morning. Well, "that morning" turned to "that afternoon" rather quickly. As I sat reading a book, I heard Roslyn breathing weird. I stood up and looked at her, she looked like she was struggling. I checked the monitors, her oxygen level was dropping but no alarms were sounding yet so I didn't know what to think. Were they broken? Silenced? I left to get a nurse, but the nurses were in the middle of a shift change and not at their station. I came back in to push the nurse's call button when all of a sudden the alarms sounded. I checked the monitor and saw her oxygen level was 92% and dropping. I picked her up, mentally thinking "you're on your own mom" and began bouncing her just like I had the day before. Frantically patting her. She recovered. The nurse came running in at that moment. I explained what happened. She paged the doctor and told me it looked like we might stay another night if that happened again and especially if it happened dropping below 90%. Not 20 minutes later we had a repeat. This time, dropping to 87% oxygen before I could get her recovered. Alarms sounded, 2 nurses came running in. Then, as if nothing had happened they calmly walked out. I was very confused. One minute they seemed concerned this was happening but then once Roslyn was back to breathing normal, they calmly walked away. I guess I was looking for some explanation or at least expectation as to what was next or what I should do when it happens. I got nothing from them.
About 20 minutes after that, it happened again. This time, dropping to 82% oxygen and following the giant gasp of air was a large amount of spit up. The doctor was present for that one, and in a weird way didn't seem concerned at all about it. She explained to me that because Roslyn recovers from it in under 20 seconds, it is not considered severe enough to stay admitted. She said that adding rice cereal to her bottles to weigh down the formula and possibly an anti-acid prescription should be well enough. With that, she left to call our primary pediatrician and get us papers for discharge. To say I was confused was an understatement. Here we were having these moments of actual, true, non-breathing moments and it was as if she sneezed and was only getting a cold. Almost as if they see this all the time. Do they see this all the time?
I had the joy of pulling off all the cords from Roslyn's chest, feet and hands. She seriously is such a happy baby. Always grinning. This chest band was the sleep apnea monitor. I'm glad it wasn't a full on mask thing.
We were discharged around 1pm. That evening she had 1 minor incident again following her evening bottle. Recovered faster than I could pick up and pat/bounce, so that's good. Overnight, she did well. She slept more than I did. I had put her in the swing and next to my bedside to I could easily check on her (and so that she was elevated more).
We had a follow up appointment this morning with our primary pediatrician (who we love). She was shocked and frankly upset that the hospital pediatrician mentioned nothing about these 3 incidents that happened in the hospital. She said that the hospital ped told her the diagnosis was "drowning" from the acid reflux but mentioned no gathering of data on the monitors at all. Nonetheless, she said that even if she had we would have been discharged because acid reflux can be an easy fix with the medicine and simple change in the way we feed Roslyn. She gave us the prescription and we were on our way. We've already had 2 more incidents today. This last one was pretty severe. It was the first time I saw color change in her face, and her eyes bulging as she stared at me struggling to breathe. I was in the line at Walgreen's to get her prescription, ironically. I swiftly unbuckled her from her car seat, picked her up and began bounce, pat, bounce, pat. It wasn't working. Not as quickly as it usually does at least. I began yelling for help in a panic. The customers in the line in front of me all stepped aside (oddly enough) and the pharmacist technician went to jump the counter to my aide but I ran to her with Ros instead. By the time I got to her, Roslyn gasped. I almost think that time was scarier than the very first one when I found her not breathing. Mainly because her little blue eyes were fixed on me in a gaze of "help me mommy" which was heart wrenching.
We just fed her the last bottle for tonight, followed by her first dosage of medicine. We should see fairly quickly here a slight improvement although the doctor said it could take a couple days to see a huge improvement. There is a movement monitor we are going buy that sounds an alarm if she stops breathing in her sleep.
That's about all I have to say about this right now. I'm not proof reading this post before posting it live so forgive me if I have misspellings or poor grammar, or if my sentences don't make sense.