Tuesday, October 20, 2009
Ben Affleck Sighting and More Pictures of Katelyn
So today my mom and I were walking to Katelyn's doctors appointment and when we got to Harvard Square I noticed there was a lot of fancy camera equipment around. As we were speculating as to the reason a women standing next to us reminded me that Ben Affleck was shooting a movie in Cambridge. Then all of a sudden this women grabbed my shoulder and said, "There he is! In the hat right over there!" And lo and behold there was Ben Affleck about 5 feet away from us talking with some of the camera crew. :) Now I do have to admit up close he still pretty much looks like most people, but still it was pretty fun to practically run into him like that. :) My mom and I contemplated sticking around to see if we could make it in as extras but eventually decided against it. Anyway, so that is our fun story for the day and now without further ado here are some more cute pictures of Katelyn. . . . :)
Sunday, October 11, 2009
Katelyn Marie Lloyd
I know we haven't been very attentive to our blog this year, but I couldn't let one of the most significant events in our lives go by without some attempt to share it with others and record it for ourselves. Nicole and I just welcomed into our family a beautiful little girl whom we have named Katelyn Marie Lloyd. We were leaning toward Brooklyn Norene, but she looked more like a Katelyn to us. We still think at some point down the road we'll have a little Brooklyn as well.
Nicole's due date had been Sept. 28th, and since she was nearly a week overdue and her doctor (who is herself pregnant) was going to be done working soon, Nicole decided to be induced. Nicole's mom had come into town at the end of September to help out, and the three of us went to the hospital early in the morning on Saturday, Oct. 3rd.
Nicole developed a fever during labor and the baby's heart rate kept dropping, so after a very long 22 hours of labor and 2 hours of fruitless pushing, the doctor decided a c-section was called for. Nicole was nervous, and we were both very glad that her mom was with us, as she has had a c-section herself and was thus a great support for Nicole. I sat near Nicole through the procedure (side note: I don't do well with blood) and was impressed by how brave she was. We could hear the doctors on the other side of the screen laughing because the baby was stuck. She finally came loose at 8:33am on Sunday, Oct. 4th.
I avoided looking at the scene on the other side of the screen as I made my way across the room to watch the doctors clean and weigh the baby. She came in at 6lbs. 9.6 oz, and 18.5 inches (.5 of which was due to a rather severe conehead -- unusual for a c-section delivery, but as I said, she was wedged pretty tight). Other than her conical head, the baby was quite beautiful right from the start: she was very pink with light-colored hair and big bright eyes. It was amazing to finally hold this little baby that I had felt moving inside Nicole for the last few months. I sat down by Nicole again so she could see the baby, and I helped Nicole touch the baby's cheek with her finger. Nicole cried.
Because of Nicole's fever, our baby had to undergo a series of tests to ensure she did not have an infection. I went upstairs with the baby to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit while Nicole's mom took my place at Nicole's side while the doctors sewed her up. The baby was really good throughout the tests and hardly fussed at all, despite being hooked to dozens of different wires and tubes (it was a rather sad and horrifying sight). Over the next few hours I went back and forth between the NICU and the room where Nicole was recovering, and eventually grandma and daddy got some sleep.
Nothing really significant happened the rest of that day or most of the following day (Monday). Nicole and the baby were finally able to be together, although Nicole wasn't strong enough to hold her for very long. It was at this point that we decided on the name Katelyn Marie, and I discovered (over a long sleepless night) that she shares her daddy's fondness for Billy Joel songs.
Monday night at about at about 10:30, after Nicole's mom had returned to our apartment to get some sleep, Nicole started to hemorrhage. We didn't realize how serious it was at first, but within a couple minutes we had at least a dozen nurses in the room. I heard them muttering to each other their amazement at how much blood Nicole had lost (repeat: I don't do well with blood). As soon as Nicole's doctor arrived with a rapid response team they wheeled Nicole away to another operating room to try to find and stop the bleeding. I was left sitting in the hallway outside the operating room while Nicole and the doctors went inside, Nicole's mom jumped in a cab heading back to the hospital and my mom jumped on a plane headed to Boston. This was probably my low point in terms of feeling alone and afraid. I remember gaining some measure of comfort by humming the tune to Families can be Together Forever.
Nicole's mom arrived shortly, and soon enough Nicole was back out of the operating room. The surgeon that I had been pestering for information the whole time told us that the bleeding had stopped on its own, but (mixed blessing) this kept them from identifying the source of the bleeding. They decided to monitor her overnight on the labor and delivery floor. We made them pull a second cot into the room, and the three of us had a short family prayer and bunked down for a somber slumber party.
At about 7:30 Tuesday morning, Nicole hemorrhaged again. As they prepared to wheel her to the operating room again, I remember regretting that I had not given her a blessing after the previous incident. Nicole was shaking terribly (a side-effect of the anesthesia made worse by her obvious fear) and crying, as was her mom. I think this was their low point, and I may have been more in shock. It was a difficult moment.
When they brought Nicole back the second time, they reported that again the bleeding had stopped on its own and again they couldn't identify the source. This was obviously not satisfying news. They took her a third time to try a procedure which amounted to inflating a balloon inside her uterus in an effort to provide pressure and stop the bleeding. They quickly returned with more bad news: the balloon kept slipping out, and they were running low on options. The doctors were concerned that another massive bleed would put them in a position where removing Nicole's uterus would be the only way to ensure that she did not die of blood loss (she had already received three units of blood by transfusion).
The final attempt to avoid a hysterectomy would be by a team of Interventional Radiologists. They explained that they would, under the guidance of x-ray, inject into the arteries on either side of Nicole's uterus an agent which would significantly impede blood flow to the uterus. They called this the "shot-gun" approach, since it affected the whole uterus without any attempt to identify a particular source of the bleeding (I think they felt by this point that the bleeding was from multiple small sources). The downside to this approach was that reduced blood flow to the uterus posed a risk of infection in the short-term and possible impairment of future pregnancies. This was obviously preferable to a hysterectomy, let alone a risk to Nicole's life, but was difficult to take nonetheless.
I had called my home teacher to come and help me give Nicole a blessing, and to his credit he came right over even early on a weekday. Unfortunately, the combination of Boston traffic and hospital over-security delayed him until just after Nicole was taken for her fourth trip to the Operating Room. Just before they wheeled her out I asked for a minute of privacy and gave her a priesthood blessing. Without going into too much detail here, I will share that I felt directly prompted to command Nicole's body to heal and respond to the treatment. The doctors were also blessed to operate with skill and inspiration.
After Nicole left for the procedure, her mom and I immediately began calling everyone we could think of to ask for prayers in her behalf. Thank you to all of our friends and family who prayed and fasted -- I know you made a difference. After that we were back to the waiting game. When the doctors finally came to give us the news, they were pleasantly surprised with how well things had gone. The shot-gun approach had turned out to be unnecessary, as the x-ray revealed almost immediately the elusive source of the bleeding.
As it turns out, some time during the c-section one of the surgeons nicked an artery (maybe a vein - I'm not a med student) in Nicole's uterus. This vessel had been swelling with blood and then releasing it in bursts, which accounted for the strange on/off pattern of the bleeding. The radiologists were able to repair the cut vessel and were very optimistic that Nicole would experience no further problems (other than the usual discomforts associated with labor, c-section, and multiple trips to the operating room).
We spent the next few days in the hospital, and Nicole got stronger every day. On Friday we all came home, and now we are enjoying the pleasures and challenges of being first-time parents with a new baby. I'm so proud of Nicole and how tough she has been throughout this whole ordeal. I'm grateful to her mom and to mine for being here to support us. I'm in love with my darling little baby girl. And I am humbled by God's mercy, his mindfulness of us, and his power to bless and heal.
We'll keep you posted on Nicole's progress in healing and try to supply a steady amount of adorable Katelyn photos. Enjoy these for starters:
Nicole's due date had been Sept. 28th, and since she was nearly a week overdue and her doctor (who is herself pregnant) was going to be done working soon, Nicole decided to be induced. Nicole's mom had come into town at the end of September to help out, and the three of us went to the hospital early in the morning on Saturday, Oct. 3rd.
Nicole developed a fever during labor and the baby's heart rate kept dropping, so after a very long 22 hours of labor and 2 hours of fruitless pushing, the doctor decided a c-section was called for. Nicole was nervous, and we were both very glad that her mom was with us, as she has had a c-section herself and was thus a great support for Nicole. I sat near Nicole through the procedure (side note: I don't do well with blood) and was impressed by how brave she was. We could hear the doctors on the other side of the screen laughing because the baby was stuck. She finally came loose at 8:33am on Sunday, Oct. 4th.
I avoided looking at the scene on the other side of the screen as I made my way across the room to watch the doctors clean and weigh the baby. She came in at 6lbs. 9.6 oz, and 18.5 inches (.5 of which was due to a rather severe conehead -- unusual for a c-section delivery, but as I said, she was wedged pretty tight). Other than her conical head, the baby was quite beautiful right from the start: she was very pink with light-colored hair and big bright eyes. It was amazing to finally hold this little baby that I had felt moving inside Nicole for the last few months. I sat down by Nicole again so she could see the baby, and I helped Nicole touch the baby's cheek with her finger. Nicole cried.
Because of Nicole's fever, our baby had to undergo a series of tests to ensure she did not have an infection. I went upstairs with the baby to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit while Nicole's mom took my place at Nicole's side while the doctors sewed her up. The baby was really good throughout the tests and hardly fussed at all, despite being hooked to dozens of different wires and tubes (it was a rather sad and horrifying sight). Over the next few hours I went back and forth between the NICU and the room where Nicole was recovering, and eventually grandma and daddy got some sleep.
Nothing really significant happened the rest of that day or most of the following day (Monday). Nicole and the baby were finally able to be together, although Nicole wasn't strong enough to hold her for very long. It was at this point that we decided on the name Katelyn Marie, and I discovered (over a long sleepless night) that she shares her daddy's fondness for Billy Joel songs.
Monday night at about at about 10:30, after Nicole's mom had returned to our apartment to get some sleep, Nicole started to hemorrhage. We didn't realize how serious it was at first, but within a couple minutes we had at least a dozen nurses in the room. I heard them muttering to each other their amazement at how much blood Nicole had lost (repeat: I don't do well with blood). As soon as Nicole's doctor arrived with a rapid response team they wheeled Nicole away to another operating room to try to find and stop the bleeding. I was left sitting in the hallway outside the operating room while Nicole and the doctors went inside, Nicole's mom jumped in a cab heading back to the hospital and my mom jumped on a plane headed to Boston. This was probably my low point in terms of feeling alone and afraid. I remember gaining some measure of comfort by humming the tune to Families can be Together Forever.
Nicole's mom arrived shortly, and soon enough Nicole was back out of the operating room. The surgeon that I had been pestering for information the whole time told us that the bleeding had stopped on its own, but (mixed blessing) this kept them from identifying the source of the bleeding. They decided to monitor her overnight on the labor and delivery floor. We made them pull a second cot into the room, and the three of us had a short family prayer and bunked down for a somber slumber party.
At about 7:30 Tuesday morning, Nicole hemorrhaged again. As they prepared to wheel her to the operating room again, I remember regretting that I had not given her a blessing after the previous incident. Nicole was shaking terribly (a side-effect of the anesthesia made worse by her obvious fear) and crying, as was her mom. I think this was their low point, and I may have been more in shock. It was a difficult moment.
When they brought Nicole back the second time, they reported that again the bleeding had stopped on its own and again they couldn't identify the source. This was obviously not satisfying news. They took her a third time to try a procedure which amounted to inflating a balloon inside her uterus in an effort to provide pressure and stop the bleeding. They quickly returned with more bad news: the balloon kept slipping out, and they were running low on options. The doctors were concerned that another massive bleed would put them in a position where removing Nicole's uterus would be the only way to ensure that she did not die of blood loss (she had already received three units of blood by transfusion).
The final attempt to avoid a hysterectomy would be by a team of Interventional Radiologists. They explained that they would, under the guidance of x-ray, inject into the arteries on either side of Nicole's uterus an agent which would significantly impede blood flow to the uterus. They called this the "shot-gun" approach, since it affected the whole uterus without any attempt to identify a particular source of the bleeding (I think they felt by this point that the bleeding was from multiple small sources). The downside to this approach was that reduced blood flow to the uterus posed a risk of infection in the short-term and possible impairment of future pregnancies. This was obviously preferable to a hysterectomy, let alone a risk to Nicole's life, but was difficult to take nonetheless.
I had called my home teacher to come and help me give Nicole a blessing, and to his credit he came right over even early on a weekday. Unfortunately, the combination of Boston traffic and hospital over-security delayed him until just after Nicole was taken for her fourth trip to the Operating Room. Just before they wheeled her out I asked for a minute of privacy and gave her a priesthood blessing. Without going into too much detail here, I will share that I felt directly prompted to command Nicole's body to heal and respond to the treatment. The doctors were also blessed to operate with skill and inspiration.
After Nicole left for the procedure, her mom and I immediately began calling everyone we could think of to ask for prayers in her behalf. Thank you to all of our friends and family who prayed and fasted -- I know you made a difference. After that we were back to the waiting game. When the doctors finally came to give us the news, they were pleasantly surprised with how well things had gone. The shot-gun approach had turned out to be unnecessary, as the x-ray revealed almost immediately the elusive source of the bleeding.
As it turns out, some time during the c-section one of the surgeons nicked an artery (maybe a vein - I'm not a med student) in Nicole's uterus. This vessel had been swelling with blood and then releasing it in bursts, which accounted for the strange on/off pattern of the bleeding. The radiologists were able to repair the cut vessel and were very optimistic that Nicole would experience no further problems (other than the usual discomforts associated with labor, c-section, and multiple trips to the operating room).
We spent the next few days in the hospital, and Nicole got stronger every day. On Friday we all came home, and now we are enjoying the pleasures and challenges of being first-time parents with a new baby. I'm so proud of Nicole and how tough she has been throughout this whole ordeal. I'm grateful to her mom and to mine for being here to support us. I'm in love with my darling little baby girl. And I am humbled by God's mercy, his mindfulness of us, and his power to bless and heal.
We'll keep you posted on Nicole's progress in healing and try to supply a steady amount of adorable Katelyn photos. Enjoy these for starters:
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