her favorite book


Any time and every time Hazel is here under the Big Top she sits down and looks at her favorite book.

She will tell you that it is the story about the day her Mommy and Daddy got married…and that she was there. She will then tell you that it is a really great book.

It is.

Happy anniversary to arguably one of the most beautiful bridal couples that I have ever seen. Happy anniversary Hollie and Ben!

let’s pretend…


…that I have not completely FAILED in prepping myself for this Sunday’s death march mud run that I will be doing with my son in law. Yes, I can handle the running distance…bitch please…it’s the mud and the upper body strength needed obstacles not to mention it is going to be 80 degrees HOT when we start our race at 12:30 PM. I’m. Going. To. Die. I hope Ben will kindly drag my body to the finish line…for my loving circus clowns who surely will miss me when I am gone.

Let’s pretend that I have not STILL have not finished that staircase railing paint project…Y’all know I will probably finally finish it around August which would be a year after I started.

Let’s pretend that the NRP mega-code simulation test that I did today was not the hot, sweaty mess that it was because I am so nervous in testing scenarios like that (yes even if I have been doing this for over 22 years…don’t judge) and let’s pretend that I was not given the scariest delivery from hell scenario because I’m a NICU nurse and I can handle it. I know my mega-code partner, who at first was happily announcing that this was her last NRP renewal ever because she is retiring next year certainly wishes it had never happened. Don’t worry. We saved the baby mannequin patient. Oh, and we both passed.

Let’s pretend that the usual war of the worlds that is between Hazel and Daniel when he comes home from school to discover that I am babysitting his nieces never happened. I know Daniel and Hazel wish that it never happened…or at least the time-outs they received never happened.

Let’s just pretend all the annoying shit that has been bothering us all today has never happened…

But Jenny, the Bloggessnew book, available on sale today and on my Kindle WAITING for me to read it now…THAT we should all be so happy, so very happy that it happened. Seriously. I’m so GLAD this has happened and I have the book and wine and I will be reading it tonight while drinking a glass of wine.

Go.

Buy.

This.

Book.

fifty shades of distracted


Laundry?…

Spring Cleaning under the Big Top?…

Filing my Federal taxes (waiting until the eleventh hour because in spite of yet another year of unemployment/underemployment and losing our home we still freakin’ owe taxes this year…you’re welcome 1%)?…

Catching up on neglected projects (yes, of course I haven’t finished painting the staircase!)?…

Prepping for my biennial NRP renewal?…

Training for that mud run?…

What?…

What was that again?

Sorry. I’m finding myself rather distracted these days…and yes, perhaps a little too hot and bothered as well.

fragile beginnings


Birth is miraculous, but it can be perilous. Years and years ago I remember my obstetrics nursing professor saying something along those lines as she emphasized how fortunate we were practicing maternal-child nursing in this day and age…which was more than twenty years ago. She described in detail how the delivery team often would collectively hold their breath until that first loud, lusty, cry of a healthy newborn baby was heard. Yet with all our advances and better understandings and technological advances we, as maternal-child caregivers, still appreciate every day the potential for peril. We still find ourselves collectively holding our breath until that newborn takes his or her first breath…and the breath after that…and the breath after that…and on and on.

Recently I was fortunate enough to be asked to read and share with you all a book titled Fragile Beginnings by Adam Wolfberg, M.D. As an obstetrician, specializing in maternal-fetal medicine, Dr. Wolfberg is more than qualified to explore with his readers the complex world of newborn intensive care. But he is even more so qualified as he is the father of Larissa, born at 26 weeks gestation and weighing just under 2 pounds. As he recounts the precarious delivery of his third daughter, I found myself literally holding my breath. From Larissa’s own fragile beginnings, Dr. Wolfberg explores and details current scientific practices and discoveries along with the profound emotional and ethical issues raised by the advancing technology that makes it possible for us to save babies born on the cusp of viability. He shares the decisions that he and his wife, Kelly, faced when it was discovered that Larissa had suffered a profound hemorrhage into her brain when she was just days old. And he explores the decisions other families in the NICU must make for their own babies…as well as the decision of a patient of his who presented with ruptured membranes at 23 weeks and 4 days…not a decision expected in a facility with highly trained professionals prepared to do everything to save the life of a severely premature baby.

Fragile Beginnings is not a how-to guide to survive and understand life in the NICU for new parents, but I believe that it is still a must read for anyone touched by premature birth or high risk pregnancy. Given that half a million babies are born prematurely in the United States every year, that is a lot of people who should take the time to sit down and read through this gripping medical narrative. I believe it offers but a glimpse into the ever changing and evolving world of neonatal care which is really only in its own frontier.

Naturally I could not put this book down for so many reasons. As a NICU nurse, who began her career during one of the more exciting moments in the history of neonatal care when artificial surfactants were first receiving approval for use in the NICU from the FDA, I found myself enjoying his tracing of the history of neonatology as well as the background of some of the great minds in neonatal medicine today. As a healthcare professional who finds one self on the other side of the incubator, I identified with Dr. Wolfberg’s difficulty with knowing “too much” of what was clinically going on with his baby girl. Even his recollection of his 23 weeks and 4 days patient and her decision hit close to home briefly knocking the wind out of me. And as a parent of a remarkable micropreemie, also born on January 11, I couldn’t help but relate to his account of the work involved after your miracle baby is big enough, strong enough, healthy enough to go home at long last.