Now here are some cute pictures.
 |
| sleeping beauty |
 |
| So proud of herself after crawling under the coffee table and getting all the charger cords out. |
Monday, July 29, 2013
Monday, July 29, 2013
Ok, local chapter of the Aubrey fan club, we need your help! Aubrey is in the running for the Aiken Standard's (local newspaper) Baby of the Year Award! Her picture was in the paper this past Sunday. Ballots for voting will be in the paper today, July 30 and 31, and August 2, 4, 5, and 6. You can only vote by getting a paper and cutting the ballot out and sending it in. If voting was online, I have no doubt we could win! We all already know that Aubrey is Baby of the Year, but if you want to help give her the "official" title, send a ballot in to the Aiken Standard. (If you do vote, be sure to write in "Aubrey S.--October 2012" as your vote.) :-)
Now here are some cute pictures.
-Keli
Now here are some cute pictures.
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Thursday, July 25, 2013
Our house is no longer safe. Aubrey is mobile.
She's scooting along on her elbows and knees, almost army-style, but she pushes up on her hands and makes a giant flop forward sometimes. Video to follow:
She's still her normal happy self, as evidenced by this video:
She's still doing well on the "solid" foods. Peas went ok, but she's really diggin' the applesauce of the last couple of days. We'll try some sweet potato and avocado next!
-Keli
She's scooting along on her elbows and knees, almost army-style, but she pushes up on her hands and makes a giant flop forward sometimes. Video to follow:
She's still her normal happy self, as evidenced by this video:
She's still doing well on the "solid" foods. Peas went ok, but she's really diggin' the applesauce of the last couple of days. We'll try some sweet potato and avocado next!
 |
| Playing with her towel after a bath; I call her Pope Precious the First (it sorta looks like the Pope's hat...no offense to my Catholic friends). :) |
Thursday, July 18, 2013
Thursday, July 18, 2013
We're all still doing ok over here. Aubrey is still trying new solid foods--so far she has had carrots and bananas. She gets a couple of tablespoons (mostly) down (she wears some of it) and by then she is wiggling so much that I can't hit her mouth with the spoon, so we stop and go for the bottle.
Today I took Aubrey to the food bank where my mom volunteers twice a week. They've been following her progress through mom since she was born, and they'd all been clamoring to see her. More of Aubrey's fan club. :)
Adam just got a promotion at work, so now we're going to be adjusting to a new group of coworkers and new responsibilities for Adam. He deserved it and Aubrey and I are super proud of him.
No more doctor's appointments for Miss Feisty Pants for another couple of weeks. We go back to the plastic surgeon for him to look at her hemangiomas the first week of August.
-Keli
 |
| It was carrots tonight, if you couldn't tell. :) |
Adam just got a promotion at work, so now we're going to be adjusting to a new group of coworkers and new responsibilities for Adam. He deserved it and Aubrey and I are super proud of him.
No more doctor's appointments for Miss Feisty Pants for another couple of weeks. We go back to the plastic surgeon for him to look at her hemangiomas the first week of August.
-Keli
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Thursday, July 11, 2013
Aubrey had another physical/occupational therapy appointment yesterday. She cried through about the first 20 minutes of it--I think it was a combination of being sleepy and having to do some stuff that was more like work than she likes. We have to start the brushing technique that we've been doing on her legs on her arms as well; this should help her with bearing more weight on her hands when she gets on her knees. Right now, she stays on her elbows most of the time. We also have to help her with sitting up; she will sit on her behind and lean forward and prop on her hands, but she's not quite sitting up on her own yet. She'll get there.
The OT has told me this before, but as we were leaving yesterday she said, "I know you know this, but Aubrey is a miracle." I nodded. Yes, I know. "No really," she said. "We don't usually see 24 weekers doing what she's doing when she's doing it." That just makes me more proud of my feisty baby and thankful that she's so amazing.
We gave her rice cereal from a spoon for the first time yesterday too. I mixed the cereal up according to the directions on the box, and it came out thinner than she takes it from her bottle. *sigh* So, I thickened it up a little and after the first spoonful went into Aubrey's mouth, she looked at me like, "what the heck am I supposed to do with that?" Lots of it came back out with a flick of her tongue, but she did a little better with it tonight. She'll get that down too, no doubt.
-Keli
 |
| Sitting on the couch with me. A friend who hasn't seen Aubrey in person commented on her little back rolls in this picture...I had to tell her that they were all skin! No fat on that baby yet. ;) |
The OT has told me this before, but as we were leaving yesterday she said, "I know you know this, but Aubrey is a miracle." I nodded. Yes, I know. "No really," she said. "We don't usually see 24 weekers doing what she's doing when she's doing it." That just makes me more proud of my feisty baby and thankful that she's so amazing.
We gave her rice cereal from a spoon for the first time yesterday too. I mixed the cereal up according to the directions on the box, and it came out thinner than she takes it from her bottle. *sigh* So, I thickened it up a little and after the first spoonful went into Aubrey's mouth, she looked at me like, "what the heck am I supposed to do with that?" Lots of it came back out with a flick of her tongue, but she did a little better with it tonight. She'll get that down too, no doubt.
 |
| First time eating with a spoon |
-Keli
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Tuesday, July 9, 2013
Aubrey had her 9 month check up with the pediatrician today (she'll be 9 months on the 20th). She's 12lb 9oz, 26 inches long, and the doctor says she looks great. She's been cleared to start eating solids; that means we'll start with rice cereal. I have a sneaking suspicion that she won't have a problem with that considering that what she's been eating from a bottle is just about as thick as regular rice cereal; the only difference is that we'll try giving it to her with a spoon.
Aubrey is now actually on the "normal baby" growth chart: she made it into the 2nd percentile for length. She hasn't hit it for weight yet, but she's still on her same growth curve that we've been measuring since she was in the NICU. But really, for an almost-9-month-old-5-month-old, she's just right.
-Keli
Aubrey is now actually on the "normal baby" growth chart: she made it into the 2nd percentile for length. She hasn't hit it for weight yet, but she's still on her same growth curve that we've been measuring since she was in the NICU. But really, for an almost-9-month-old-5-month-old, she's just right.
 |
| sleeping beauty snoozing while at work with me |
 |
| she's learning to smile without losing the pacifier. |
 |
| In case you hadn't noticed, she finally has the hang of the pacifier (she doesn't gag and throw up when she takes it anymore!). |
Thursday, July 4, 2013
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
Wednesday, July 3, 2013
I had to go to a funeral today, and I saw my great-aunt and uncle that I hadn't seen in a long while. My aunt has been following the blog (hey Aunt Mary!) and keeping up with us through family members, and she said she'd been wanting to see me and give me a hug...and then she told me she was proud of me. My first thought was, "what in Heaven's name for? All I've done is survive!" Then I thought about it some more and decided that sometimes surviving is all you can do. Survival doesn't necessarily mean you come out of a traumatic experience unscathed; you're alive, yes, but you've been changed somehow, good or bad, either physically, mentally, or emotionally.
Watching your child struggle to live changes you. It can't NOT change you, if you have any love at all for that child. Her bad days kick your foundation out from under you, break you down, suck your spirit dry until you feel like you can't bear to do it another day. Her good days struggle to fill in the gaping holes left by the bad days, and you feel a little inkling of hope and start to think that things might be normal again, whatever normal might be. You remember what is important, and the details of life that at one time seemed so significant fade into the background. All that matters is your baby, your spouse, making it until the next day. Surviving.
I've read a lot of stories from preemie parents, some with babies born as early as Aubrey, some with babies born closer to full-term, 34, 35 weeks along. Some stayed in the NICU as long as we did or even longer, some stayed only a couple of weeks. Lots of them have said that they are dealing with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) because of their child's hospital stay. At first I was incredulous--really? PTSD from a hospital stay? Now I understand how it could happen. Aubrey's NICU journey was 122 days of constant worry and stress, a balancing act of Adam and I working and trying to spend time with each other and with Aubrey, still trying to occasionally do something halfway fun away from the hospital, and trying to keep up with taking care of the house and paying bills and dealing with insurance and...whew. And really, Aubrey had a fairly uncomplicated time of things--no major surgeries or problems (other than her apnea and bradycardia). And at first we scoffed at the parents who said their 2 week NICU stay was horrible and scary--2 weeks? Amateurs, we thought. Try 16, 17, 18 weeks. Try living at the hospital for months, we said. But then we remembered that this was their baby, their flesh and blood, a life they created, that they were worried about for those 2 weeks--any amount of time when you are scared for the life of your child is harrowing, whether it's 2 days or 2 months.
So, we survived. Aubrey is healthy and growing, our marriage is strong. I look back and have no idea how we did it; "by the grace of God" is just about the only answer I come up with. I would say that those dark days feel like a dream, like they didn't really happen to me, except for the fact that if I dwell on a particular memory long enough panic seeps into my bloodstream and races through my veins, making me gasp. Those memories are drilled into my brain, welded onto my heart forever, molten metal that will burn if you linger on it for too long. But guess what? Burns leave a scar, but they heal. And you survive.
-Keli
Watching your child struggle to live changes you. It can't NOT change you, if you have any love at all for that child. Her bad days kick your foundation out from under you, break you down, suck your spirit dry until you feel like you can't bear to do it another day. Her good days struggle to fill in the gaping holes left by the bad days, and you feel a little inkling of hope and start to think that things might be normal again, whatever normal might be. You remember what is important, and the details of life that at one time seemed so significant fade into the background. All that matters is your baby, your spouse, making it until the next day. Surviving.
I've read a lot of stories from preemie parents, some with babies born as early as Aubrey, some with babies born closer to full-term, 34, 35 weeks along. Some stayed in the NICU as long as we did or even longer, some stayed only a couple of weeks. Lots of them have said that they are dealing with post traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) because of their child's hospital stay. At first I was incredulous--really? PTSD from a hospital stay? Now I understand how it could happen. Aubrey's NICU journey was 122 days of constant worry and stress, a balancing act of Adam and I working and trying to spend time with each other and with Aubrey, still trying to occasionally do something halfway fun away from the hospital, and trying to keep up with taking care of the house and paying bills and dealing with insurance and...whew. And really, Aubrey had a fairly uncomplicated time of things--no major surgeries or problems (other than her apnea and bradycardia). And at first we scoffed at the parents who said their 2 week NICU stay was horrible and scary--2 weeks? Amateurs, we thought. Try 16, 17, 18 weeks. Try living at the hospital for months, we said. But then we remembered that this was their baby, their flesh and blood, a life they created, that they were worried about for those 2 weeks--any amount of time when you are scared for the life of your child is harrowing, whether it's 2 days or 2 months.
So, we survived. Aubrey is healthy and growing, our marriage is strong. I look back and have no idea how we did it; "by the grace of God" is just about the only answer I come up with. I would say that those dark days feel like a dream, like they didn't really happen to me, except for the fact that if I dwell on a particular memory long enough panic seeps into my bloodstream and races through my veins, making me gasp. Those memories are drilled into my brain, welded onto my heart forever, molten metal that will burn if you linger on it for too long. But guess what? Burns leave a scar, but they heal. And you survive.
 |
| Adam took this...he said, "she may look like me, but I've seen that expression on your face before. Directed at me." It's possible. ;) |
-Keli
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)