The shakes are back…

As we drive to the hospital to feed our brand new baby girl (I can’t wait to see her, to feel that I have her, that she is real) I feel hot and cold at the same time, the dizziness and overall discomfort won’t go away.

I feel my forehead which is warm but not hot and compare with my husband’s. Like a child I ask my mom to feel it too and she agrees, definitely warm but not alarmingly hot.

Maybe a slight temperature, but like I said before, I gave birth only a couple of days ago and I get a fever for basically everything so I’m not that worried about feeling this icky.

Except when we reach the hospital, I feel worse…

I am hotter and suddenly the shakes are creeping up on me. As we wait for our turn to get a sticker, be allowed in and wash our hands (I sent my husband to Mc Donald’s with our son to get some fries) I tell my mom to hold on.

I have to sit down because the room starts to spin and here comes my friends (more like my enemies) the shakes from last night. They get worse and worse and my mom tells me to stop shaking, like she did when we were kids when we were coughing or had the hiccups (which might sound a little brutal but actually do work).

Like a good daughter I try to listen to my mommy but I just can’t stop shaking for the life of me.

I tell my mom that I need to go the bathroom, trying to tell myself that I can control this but at the same time starting to wonder what is wrong with me, something like this has never happened to me before.

Since the restrooms by the NICU are being cleaned my mom searches for another bathroom on the first floor since I am now shaking so bad, I don’t feel that I can walk. I suggest that we ride the elevator up to the third floor where I know that there is a bathroom for sure since I just spent 2 days in recovery there (on the third floor not in the bathroom).

I really want to get away from people, I feel like they are staring at me and I really need to get a hold of myself. The trip to the bathroom didn’t help, I have to concentrate hard on walking and then there is if possible even more blood in the toilet (but still not enough to soak my pad but I’m starting to think enough to be concerned?) and the shakes are getting worse not better.

We go back down to the NICU and I can’t even focus on seeing my baby (sleeping peacefully, clenching her tiny hands).

My favorite NICU nurse, Kate is there, telling us she needs to eat in about twenty minutes (the baby not Kate that is).

I am now starting to realize that I will not be able to feed my baby, the shakes have turned violent and I am now so so cold, freezing actually.

I don’t know what I tell my mom, something about going to the bathroom again but I know she looks really worried now…

I walk as fast as the shakes will allow me to the bathroom right outside of the NICU and luckily the cleaners are all done in there. I make it in to a stall before I sink to the ground, thinking something is really wrong here…

I try several times to get to my feet but I’m shaking so much I have to make attempt after attempt, clenching my teeth as I’m hugging my body, trying to zip up my sweater further than it can go and telling myself that I need to make it back into the NICU to tell my mom we need to go home.

All I want to do is crawl into to bed with about a hundred warm blankets, fall asleep and just forget about how cold and shaky I am and hopefully wake up feeling better.

I also attempt to call my husband to come pick us up but my phone keeps sliding out of my hands and forget dialing, it is a lost cause, this is starting to get ridiculous.  

As I walk back into the NICU, I believe even more people stop and stare at me but I have a one track mind, people fade out of my vision and I can see that my mom is now looking more than concerned.

I tell her that I don’t think I can feed the baby and that I need to go home but as she tells me to stop shaking and tell her what is wrong and my eyes well up with tears as I can’t, she takes matters into her own hands. She usually lets me (and my sister) do the talking here (in the US) as she is Swedish (but quite good at English I might add) but right now she goes to find the nurse.

I don’t even know what they are saying as I become less and less aware of my surroundings, all I know is, I WANT to stop shaking and get warm. Oh why, why is it so damn cold in here, could they maybe turn off the A/C, it’s ridiculously cold for these tiny poor infants!

Nurse Kate takes one look at me and I can hear her tell mom that I must be running a seriously high fever. No I protest, it’s just the shakes (whatever that means). She leaves just to come back seconds later with a wheel chair. I do think I can walk (besides where am I going in that? I have had enough of wheelchairs for I don’t know…about a life time) but when I stand I realize that I absolutely can’t walk and am actually grateful as I sink down in the rolling chair.

Kate asks if I can direct my mom to triage (isn’t it only extremely pregnant women and women with pregnancy complications that go there? I have time to think) but she takes another look at me and apparently determines that I am in no condition to direct anybody anywhere. And off we go to the elevators and triage, Kate wheeling the chair and my mom hurrying after us.




Blindfolded mama!

As we get driven to the airport by the driver my husband uses for work, I still don’t know where we are going. This make me feel slightly nervous and out of control but I’m trying to relax and enjoy the ride (I really am).

I’m squeezed in between my two kids. My little 8 months old hating her car seat and the car ride as much as ever, while my 3 year old is enjoying some cartoons (SpongeBob; whom I don’t exactly approve of) on the car’s backseat TV monitor trying to ignore his little sister’s wailing. Who are you to complain I think- you are feed and bathed and clothed and should be comfortable letting mommy take care of planning and worrying. Oh, the responsibilities! I just hope I packed everything and all the right things. Lots to pack and think of when you have little ones. I’m itching to just ask hubby exactly where we are going already…and where we are staying! And what we are doing!

He is doing the whole blind folding (which is sweet but is driving me nuts) and it’s quite difficult not seeing when two kids (especially the clingy little one) need you. As we sit by the gate, I have to trust the man I married completely (and I do but I am also getting impatient and increasingly claustrophobic). I eat blind, I nurse blind and I interact with my children- you guessed it blind! This seriously gives me a newfound respect for the vision impaired (how do they do it?) and as I silently pray for their strength, I secretly glance down from my tightly tied scarf and try to peak at something…anything. All I see is the ground though and people’s feet, oh and the stroller wheals and nearby bags.

Boarding is interesting, I’m of no help whatsoever. I almost feel sorry for darling husband. I’m not allowed to carry baby girl because what if I trip? She is not a big fan of that arrangement. Hubby has to get stroller tags and carry our carry-on luggage and put baby in the stroller while keeping an eye on our wild three year old. I don’t envy him. “Are we going on the plane now? Now? Now? Now daddy? What about now?” He is also running and somehow manages to harass a whole lot of people around him. Good for him that he is so cute, people almost always immediately forgive him (my husband has that same thing going for him). People around us are probably wondering about my scarf, or they get upset about my apparent lack of parent participation. I would so participate more if I had my sight, I promise! Some people I can hear asking my husband why I’m blindfolded (Nop, nothing kinky people…). He hates people approaching him, especially strangers with stupid questions but I hear him answering (not without pride) that he is surprising me with a trip to an unknown location (oh come on, tell me already!).

So we make it on the plane. Walking the aisle, I’m terrified of bumping into people, tripping falling or in general hurting myself and/or others, so husband graciously lets me take off the blindfold, only if I promise not to find out where we are going (taking it a little far- how am I supposed to do that?). I actually manage not to hear the pilot announcing our destination twice, as I’m breastfeeding baby- trying to keep the cover over her head (to no avail) while trying to stop my son from hitting us both with one of those lollipops (I know bad, very bad, sugar and all) on a spinning stick (genius invention!) and with toy dinosaurs (he is obsessed-with dinosaurs I mean, not hitting… although…). My main man looks over at me expectantly as I’m completely clueless.

Well the trip is short and surprisingly smooth as we land in … (Drumroll please!) Salt Lake City, Utah!

This is not our final destination though… and now the troubles start…

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Our little girl

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