Pick Your Poison: Part II

I don't know where to start except that I am in total disbelief. I am shocked, stunned, flabbergasted, and quite frankly, really really angry. With myself. With our doctors. With the life we haven't been able to give Catherine so far.

Catherine's ear infections started with a vengeance in November. She was constantly sick. Constantly. It was a revolving door at the doctor's office, and we were no stranger to the nurses. Finally in January, after her seventh (eighth?) straight ear infection, which started immediately after she stopped anti-biotics, we were referred for tubes. We got an appointment for mid-February, had her ear tubes inserted March 8. After finding out Catherine couldn't HEAR, we thought for sure that after the tubes, her speech would blossom.

That did not happen. So in April, when we went back to see how her tubes were doing, we expressed that Catherine continued to have poor balance, a chronic runny nose, and it was clear she was not feeling better. He suggested allergy medicine to help with the runny nose (and getting her out of daycare as it was probably a virus she just couldn't get rid of). So we put her on allergy medicine.

She still didn't seem to get better and I remember the day Christy, our daycare provider said, "There is something wrong with your daughter, Laura, you need to figure it out." From then, I went on a crusade.

I asked that we be referred for allergy testing, possibly speech and occupational therapy, and talk to a general pediatrician with Blank Children's Hospitals. So that's what we did, finding out in May that Catherine was allergic to bananas and milk. But she continued to have a chronic runny nose, sometimes made better by the allergy medicine. So we continued to give her the allergy medicine. She seemed better, but not. It was like we were in limbo, waiting for that one word to finally pop out.

Summer was tough, and it seemed as though Catherine began downhill. It was a subtle downhill spiral, but downhill, nonetheless, which led us to Friday. Picking up the kids I could tell Christy was frazzled, and she's never frazzled. She said it was a tough day with Catherine. She was very aggressive, wouldn't stay in time out, and hurt one of the other kids. We have a great relationship with Christy, but a person could only take too much. I pride myself on being able to read people pretty well, and could tell it would only be a matter of time before she finally said Catherine would need to find another place to go. It was a heart-wrenching conversation, and left me pretty upset.

So I got home, and posted on my Moms group on Facebook, which led me to look into the adverse side effects of Zyrtec (which is supposed to be better than Claritin). Here, in all their horror, are the adverse side effects that usually affect less than two percent of people taking this allergy medicine:

1. Anger (inconsolable temper tantrums)
2. Moodiness
3. Night terrors (or increased night terrors)
4. Hallucinations
5. Confusion
6. Drowsiness
7. Loss of appetite
8. Decreased urine output
9. Rash
10. Flushing of the face and extremities
11. Stuttering
12. Apraxia of speech
13. Loss of speech or aural motor skills
14. Loss of gross and fine motor skills (particularly in gait and hands)
15. Emotional numbness (lack of empathy)
16. Irrational
17. Self-Harm (hitting self, banging head)
18. Anxiousness
19. Withdrawn
20. OCD tendencies (irrational perceptions of routine)
21. ADHD or Hyperactivity
22. Hyperfocus
23. Autistic tendencies
24. Anxiety
25. Tics, such as involuntary shoulder shrugging
26. Craving for salt
27. 
    

Twenty-three fucked up side effects that less than two percent of the population might suffer from when taking this medicine. 

My daughter suffered from approximately 20. 

That is stunning. Looking back on these side effects and what we have been through, I have no doubt in my mind that Catherine, when shaking and screaming in her crib at 3:00 a.m., screaming for us to not leave her room, that she was hallucinating, after waking from a night terror. 

So 7:30 a.m. I emailed our family practitioner, who had no idea these could be possible side effects. Today, at the University of Iowa Hospitals, I told the speech pathologist our story, and she said she had no idea the side effects. I talked to our speech pathologist from the AEA, and she had no idea these were possible side effects. The occupational therapist who evaluated Catherine today had no idea these were possible side effects. 

So had this random mother, who I do not know, not commented on my random post on Facebook, how long would this have gone on? And what's even scarier: some of these effects won't go away if you take this medicine too long. 

So here we are, on Day 4 of No Allergy Medicine and the difference I have seen in Catherine is remarkable. She should be studied by the medical field. 

She is no longer saying "hmm hmm hmm" every two seconds. She is signing with greater ease than I have ever heard. She is saying "ba" for ball, "mo" for more, "oh" in reply to something I say to her, "ow" when she is hurt, "wow" when something fascinates her, "whoa" when caught off guard. And this is only in three days, as Saturday we only started hearing some more vocalizations from her. Sunday, her vocabulary exploded. 

It seems like she understands when we talk to her, she understands time-out, us telling her "no" to something doesn't cause her to throw herself down on the ground and kick herself with her feet. She has been sleeping through the night, including sleeping while Drew is not (which has been a lot and it has been rough, let me tell you!), she has been eating a ton more, drinking a ton more water, and overall, is very happy. She has been laughing, more calm, MUCH less aggressive (although she's 2.5, so we can only expect so much), and it's like I have my little girl back. 

I am relieved, but it still seems like when I tell people, it's not really that believable. But trust me, if you would have seen what we have been experiencing, and the little girl that I have had the past few days, you would be so astonished, you'd be writing a blog post about it too. 

I have my little girl back. My little girlie girl with the funny saunter, the pigtails, the silly smile. You are mine, and you are beautiful, and I am so glad I finally fought for you this long. You so deserve to be happy, and our family is happier because of it. 

I love you, little girl, and I am so glad we seem to finally be moving forward. 

Pick Your Poison

Oh, sweet Catherine.

I said I was put on this earth to be the best damn mother I could be for you, and I have not stopped.

I eat, sleep and breathe thinking about what I can do to help you. I am continually trying one thing or another in an effort to move you forward. I think about how to help you when I wake up. It's the last thing I think about when I go to bed. I talk to at least one person about it every day. Either your speech pathologist (either one, as we're seeing two), or the occupational therapist. It's either an email to the area education agency, or a phone call to the doctor.

It seems like I am constantly saying, "I wonder if it's..." and then off I go, on another tangent, trying to figure out what is going on with my little girl.

I google the shit out of just about anything I think of. I am a mother obsessed with putting some sort of label on this.

A chronic runny nose is not normal. Aggressive behavior is not normal. Not speaking at the age of 2.5, save a few words, may be normal, but not the humming noise you make. Not the appearance and subsequent disappearance of certain words, that are actually quite difficult to say.

We have heard so many words, only to not hear them again. James, snack, tickle, popcorn, chair, dog, cat, quack-quack. They are so clear, and they give us so much hope, and then they disappear just as quickly as they came out of your beautiful mouth. I feel like I am in a constant push and pull, two steps forward, sometimes one step back, sometimes three.

Sometimes I feel like I'm dealing with a little girl on the brink of toddlerhood. Just the other night, you demanded that you sleep on the floor of your room. No matter what, you crawled out of your crib and WOULD NOT go back in. You continued to crawl out, even when we would put you back in. You screamed about it. You threw yourself against the door. And then, all of a sudden, I am dealing with an inconsolable child who is more like a 1 year old. It's like I cannot win.

I have glimpses of the little girl that you could be. You are constantly making sure that Drew has a blanket and a pacifier. If you find one, you immediately take it to him, or bring it Eric or me. You have such a love for Drew, but in the same second, you will lovingly put it in his mouth and then hit him, hard, in the head. Then we'll put you in time out, only for you to get out of time out and immediately do it again. And that's when my hope is dashed and the light goes out.

What the fuck can we do to help you?!

I wish you could tell us this answer, but instead, you hum and you sign and you throw temper tantrums. You guide us by the hand to what you want, you point to some of your pictures, but it's so inconsistent that I'm not sure it's even helping. We see two speech therapists and we are about to start occupational therapy. We have been to the University of Iowa Center for Disabilities and Development and I talk to your daycare provider nearly every day about "how Catherine's day was." Normally, it's a terrible report, and once again, even if it was a good day, there was something that was not normal about your day. A temper tantrum where you hit yourself in the head with your hands. A toy thrown at a little boy, and when it didn't hit him, you took it and bashed it against his head. I have talked to the Special Education teacher at my school. I put your little hand against my mouth to help you feel my lips move as I say easy words such as "pop" and "dog" and "cat." We are going to the allergist again to get a second opinion. I am constantly on the mom Facebook groups, asking questions, getting ambiguous replies that lead me in yet another direction, looking for another cure to help my daughter.

And yet, here we are. You say "Ma" "Da" "Yah" and "No." But the only consistent words are ma and da. Yah sometimes comes out so blurred that I have to ask you to reiterate it. Only for it to sound even different than the first time. So then I have to take your little hand and ask you to show me. And sometimes you do. And sometimes you throw yourself down on the ground and throw your legs up so hard in your temper tantrum you hit yourself in the face with your feet.

I have poured over the MRI results, looking for more things on Google that will give me some answer. I have poured over your doctor's results, and the notes they have made. I am constantly thinking about what I can do to help you.

Yet nothing seems to help. 

I absolutely WILL NOT give up on you. There is a sweet little girl in there, and I see glimpses of you when you're not shoving Drew's head into the ground so hard he gets carpet burn on his nose and lips. You love pushing the baby in your stroller. You wrap her up and pretend to "feed" her like you have seen me nursing Drew. You love your purse, and your fake phone, and you carry it around while you push your stroller and those moments are the ones that make me love having a little girl. You love going shopping with me. You love riding in the stroller, or the car, or being chased by James remote control truck. You love to laugh and James is the best at making you do so, when you're not running at him, screaming and flailing your arms.

So tonight, in yet what feels like another last-ditch effort, I asked a mom's group about how you seem to be a nightmare when you aren't taking your allergy medicine, but when we put you on it, you are so much better. But not that much better. When you don't take allergy medicine, it's very obvious you don't feel well. And when you don't feel well, you have a different kind of temper tantrum, and you want to be held all the time, and your eyes are glassy and you are more tired. When you are on your allergy medicine, you are unpleasant, aggressive, and honestly, not very pleasant to be around.

I never thought I would say that one of my kids wasn't very pleasant to be around. But here I am. Words straight from my own mouth.

So in posting this, I obviously got a reply, which simply told me to look at the side effects of allergy medicine like Claritin and Zyrtec. And guess what I got in all my Google research? "Side effects consist of: aggression, hyperactivity, generally unfocused and trouble sleeping."

What the fuck?

Why would anyone leave this out when suggesting that you give this medicine to a CHILD, which happens to only be 32 inches tall and 25 pounds? I have been giving her this medicine for almost a year.

I just talked to a doctor at the University of Iowa, for God's sake, that said we need to look at a behavioral specialist and recommended a place we can call to help with her aggression. Why wouldn't someone say, "have you looked at the side effects of the medicine you have been giving her for almost a year?"

I guess maybe as a mom, that was my job, and with hindsight 20/20, I will be doing that in the future. I am shocked that this didn't come up sooner, but like I said, I am always grasping at straws.

So in the morning, I will wake up thinking about how to help Catherine. And I will go to the store and pick up yet another allergy medicine to see if that will help. And again, here is another glimmer of hope.

Maybe this will be it...

I try not to get my hopes up, but it's hard. You want so badly for your child to be successful. I want her to grow up and be smart and funny and for her to find someone and fall in love and plan and wedding and have children of her own. Every parent wishes this, and every child deserves this.

I want so badly for Catherine to experience the joy of childhood. And I try so hard to create it for her, even though I am so tired all the time, and I work full time, and here I am at 9:00 p.m. on a Friday night baking donut muffins so when she wakes up in the morning, I can tell her we are having "cupcakes" for breakfast. And I will see the light in her eyes and her smile and hear her laugh and she and James race downstairs, only to see the donut muffins laying on the floor, or strewn in crumbs across the table, or even better, smashed into her mouth only to spit back out all over the front of her.

There is nothing wrong with my child, but there is. I am determined to find out. I have given up making baby food for Drew because two nights a week, I am taking Catherine to therapy. I have given up taking James to his piano lessons because the only night that worked for one of Catherine's therapies was the same night, same time. I have almost given up breastfeeding Drew so that I can focus my energies on Catherine.

But in the end, I also have to focus my energies on my other children, because they need me too. So I am constantly trying to find that quiet moment with Drew while I nurse him in our bedroom upstairs with the door closed so Catherine won't come over and hit him on the head. I try to find that quiet snuggle with James on the couch while Catherine is sleeping, even though James shouldn't be watching that much TV.

It's hard to balance a life when you have a child who needs so much from you. I am exhausted.

But tomorrow is another day that will be filled with little moments that will remind me to keep fighting. And fight, I will. Because I was put on this earth to be the best mother to Catherine that I could possibly be.

And I will be the best damn mother to Catherine that I can possibly be. 

7 Months!

Sorry, sweet boy, but your six month post was missed thanks to two incredibly busy parents. But we love you!

You are absolutely so sweet. Your smile lights up your entire face, and you love watching everything! You are army crawling (this must be a trait of all my children as all army crawled for a long time before actually crawling), sitting up on your own, sitting in your high chair (good-bye bumbo!), and sleeping in your crib. Although you aren't really sleeping, but we will get to that in a second.

A few weeks ago, we finally started you on solid foods. We tried around 5 months because I just felt you were ready. You weren't sitting up on your own, but you had the pincer grasp and you were definitely interested. So we started you on peaches.

And you screamed, and you screamed, and you screamed. So after a week, I thought you weren't ready. So back to breastfeeding exclusively, and you were so much better. Started sleeping with only one night waking, and from there, I slowly reintroduced fruits (to help with your constipation...) only to again, have sleepless nights. To the point where it reminded me of Catherine's earlier days. During the day you were pretty sweet, but at night, you were a nightmare.

So I started keeping track, and guess what? We only fed you fruits, to help with constipation, and then you were up all night, screaming and kicking and crying and wouldn't calm down unless I nursed you.

From there, I noticed the trend and went right to veggies. Problem solved. Sort of. You're still kind of constipated, and it seems as though you have the same reaction when you have carrots. Sweet potatoes, squash and peas are ok, so that's what we give you. And that's ONLY what we give you for the time being.

I am not convinced there is an allergy there, much like Catherine. We have an appointment with an allergist, and I'm guessing that with that appointment will come some sort of weird fruit diagnosis, like Catherine's. I guess we will see.

Sleep is fleeting, and although I do NOT prefer co-sleeping, you usually end up in our bed because I have to nurse you in the middle of the night. There are about three hours every night where you will nurse every half hour to 45 minutes. It's rough. Finally, about 4:30-5:00 I move you back to your crib, and we have to wake you up to leave for daycare. It's an interesting schedule, but hopefully, not an infinite one. Because this mama needs sleep!!!

Beyond that, you have no idea how excited I am that you are starting to grow out of things. We have ditched the baby swing, the bumbo, the pack-n-play. We bought you a crib a month ago (only to have Catherine demand that she stop sleeping in hers earlier this week, so that's awesome...) and you have been sharing a room with James.

You love chasing the cat, watching your brother and sister chase each other around the house, and of course, laughing. You laugh so much, all the time, and it's awesome. It reminds me how precious children are. You, sir, are most definitely precious.

You are so easy-going, and travel well. You are always up for adventure, which makes the transition into a family of 5 so much easier than I thought it was going to be. I was paranoid, scared and really didn't want to be a family of 5, but I can't imagine it any other way. You are one of the three best things to every happen to me.

We are still nursing, and I am following your lead. We went from exclusively nursing a month ago, to now nursing about 4 times a day, and that weird three hour stint overnight. For having such issues with producing enough milk for Catherine, I sure am a cow! I don't overproduce by any means, but I am not stressed about providing enough milk for you. The other day, I was pumping at work and felt my pants getting wet - low and behold I have over pumped into the bottle, and it was spilling out the top. It was fun explaining that to the student who saw me ten minutes later and asked if I had spilled something.

So here we go. You are interested in your toys, you love your Gerber puffs, and you especially love cuddles. I am not a cuddler, but for you, little boy, I can be for a bit.

I love what you have done for our family, and I am so thankful we were blessed with you.