Thank Goodness

We learned two things for certain yesterday:  Drew does have a murmur.  But it is benign.  No further testing is needed at this point.  He will not need surgery or any medications.  We will follow up with the pediatric cardiologist at one year, but other than that, he seems to have a perfectly fine heart! 

Thank. Goodness.

We are still investigating the hypotonia.  But he has been doing a lot better with tummy time and the tongue is the only major sign of hypotonia (though there are other small signs).  And a tongue can stick out for a variety of reasons, even simply because it is too big for his mouth or just because he likes to do that. 

We will be following up after the New Year with our pediatrician to discuss next steps, but for the next few days we can just breathe deep sighs of relief.

Tis the Season

Yesterday I had Drew's two month well-baby exam.  I expected the usual rigamarole of weigh in, "baby looks great", and vaccines.  The vaccines were my biggest worry.

It started out as expected.  Weigh in determined that Andrew is FIFTEEN POUNDS exactly; 88th percentile.  It is clear that the boy loves his milk and Mama is apparently making cream! 

Dr. S came in and laughed out loud at my HUGE baby, who  was laying on the exam table in only a  diaper and a huge smile.  "He's SO BIG!" she exclaimed.  "I  KNOW!"  I  responded. 

We talked about any concerns that I had.  My only "concern" with Andrew is that he is still sleeping pretty poorly.  He has a midnight bedtime and sleeps pretty fitfully.  He also "snorts" a lot, so I figured that he also had the same enlarged adenoids as his big brother, but that isn't really a big deal.  Enlarged adenoids in and of themselves aren't indications for removal.  It is only if they cause problems, as they did with Will (chronic ear and sinus infections that didn't clear easily), necessitating their removal.  I figured we'd probably face that with Drew, but although it is never fun to put your toddler under anesthesia, I also know it's a pretty risk-free procedure that yields excellent results.

We commiserated over his sleep (or lack thereof).  She made note of the snorting and my suspicion of enlarged adenoids.  And then she started with the exam.  Three  babies  with  the  same doctor,  and  I  know  what to expect  from her.   So  when  she  lingered.  .  .  and  lingered . .  . and  lingered over his  chest with the stethoscope.  . . and  lingered some  more, I felt my own heart  starting to  beat a bit faster.  She moved on anddidn't  say  anything and I figured I was just  over-analyzing things.

While she was examining him, she also asked  me about his  tongue, which  he almost ALWAYS  has out.   It is simply one of his endearing traits.  .  .  or so I thought.

She went back to his chest.  And lingered there for what seemed like a year (in reality, it was probably two or three minutes, but that is still a long time).   Finally, she turned to me and said,  "We haven't heard a murmur before, have we?"

No.  We have not.

After the episode where he stopped breathing after his birth and had to spend time in the NICU, there hasn't really been much else.  We were hospitalized for his jaundice, which I was a bit glad for, as it meant extra monitoring, and still nothing.  No murmur, despite many pediatricians having their stethoscopes to him.

So, yeah, NO.  We haven't heard a murmur before.

Then she asked me how he was doing with lifting his head while on his tummy.  I admitted that we haven't been doing a great job with tummy time. He hates it, I am in survival mode, blah, blah, blah.

She went back to his chest.  And then handed me the stethoscope.  "I want you to hear this," she said.

And I could clearly hear something that didn't sound right; a whooshing sound between beats.  A decisively LOUD murmur.  She explained that murmurs can be benign; that they are often transient, without specific cause or need for concern, but. . .

BUT.

"If it were my child, I would want an echo done."

And, the tongue thing?  That is a sign of hypotonia.  And go ahead and google it. Hypotonia is not a disease in and of itself.  It is a symptom.  Of really bad things.

So, we have a barage of appointments at Seattle Children's Hospital next week.  Even with Christmas, we were triaged in with the cardiac and neurology center.  With Will's referral to Children's for his enlarged adenoids, I didn't hear from the ENT office for a week and then we waited for months for an appointment.  With Andrew's referral?  They called me within an hour. And our appointments are in less than a week and we have been placed on the priority waiting list.

And I am scared.

Christmas Magic

I can't believe that it has been a few weeks since my last post. . . it seems like I just put that up  there!

I have started a few posts here and there, but have never had time to finish them, so this one is going to be short and sweet.

WILL

Will is thriving at preschool.  I seriously cannot believe how much he is learning this year and how fast he is learning it.  He still loves his new baby brother, but has gotten past the infatuation stage and is more or less ignoring him now.

EMMA

Emma has transitioned nicely into her role as Big Sister.  She had a hard time in  the  early  weeks, but has settled down now.   She is just so darn  cute  these days and SUCH a  big girl!

DREW

Sleep has been getting better around here.  He had several  five hour  stretches last week and  then. . . .A CHRISTMAS MIRACLE occured at our house last night and  he slept  for  SEVEN. HOURS. STRAIGHT.   Amazing.

I have kind of highlighted it to let you know we  are alive and kicking here and  things  are  improving.    It  still  isn't lollipops and unicorns here at Case de la Three Kids, but I can see a  light  at the end of the tunnel  as far  as  managing three little  ones at  once.    It won't be easy, but the moments  where  it all  comes  together are. . .  dare I say?   Magical.