Hospital Day 2

We are still here. Mallorie is doing better, but we expect it will be a couple days till she will be discharged. Certainly not today or tomorrow.

I didn't sleep at all in the ER the first night (Monday night), and got just a few hours last night, and then went to work today, so I am beyond exhausted. I want to just make mention of my amazing Hannah (14), who is beyond wonderful as a daughter and as a sister. She is the one who decides whether or not Mallorie is dressed fashionably, and because she knows Mal loves a nice spa treatment, she will often give her a bath for us, "just because." Just because her baby sister enjoys the water so much, and because who doesn't love a baby who smells of the 1001 different brands of baby soaps that Hannah can find whenever she's out at her fave store, Target.

As a daughter, Hannah is extremely sensitive and compassionate, and such good company. She's who stayed with me in the ER, and also last night. The first night, there was only a chair to sit in next to the stretcher Mallorie was on, so I just stayed up, and Hannah curled up on the stretcher next to Mallorie, and was able to get in a little bit of sleep. Last night, Hannah insisted several times that I try to sleep, and she'd watch Mallorie until she went to sleep. But last night was like this night - the night the steroids kicked in. At least that's my theory. Mallorie spent from 8 pm till about 3 am just tossing her head back and forth frantically, and moaning, unable to calm down for more than a rare moment. I was so anxious about losing the IV, and the whining and moaning were loud enough, that I didn't even drop off till 11 pm, and I kept waking up. Once, I heard Hannah plead, very softly, please stop, please stop. Not with impatience; just the voice of sheer exhaustion and sadness. About 3 am, I felt able to take over, so Hannah curled up and I got the easier part of the night, because Mallorie would actually sleep for hour-long stretches, and was no longer really moaning. While I was at work today, and John and Jacob (8) stayed with Mallorie, Hannah took a nap at home to prepare her to help me again tonight. We're hoping the steroid business, or whatever it is, won't be such a deal tonight, so maybe both of us can sleep between feedings and such.

I think that along with the gift of every special baby, should be a daughter like Hannah. I don't mean to imply that all of our children aren't unbelievably helpful and smitten by their youngest sibling, but tonight I'm loving me a sweet girl named Hannah. Totally, you "special mommies" out there should ask about getting a Hannah.

Even if I had better than a cell phone camera with me, I don't have the ability to get it from the camera to the blog here at the hospital, but if I did, I'd put one right here.

Hospital

We went to the ER yesterday evening, because Mallorie was having another night like 2nights before that, only this time the breathing treatments, etc, weren't easing up her breathing situation. We stayed the night in the ER, where nurse Kristen got a great scalp IV again (only one attempt needed), and medications and treatments were able to be given. She tested positive for RSV infection, and pneumonia again, as well.

So we are back in the hospital for now, and would appreciate your prayers that our little one returns quickly to full health. She is SO much better today than she was last evening.

And I was awake all last night, and only got to "doze" for about 1 hour (between 6 am and 7 am), and had some work to do today (for my job), so there was no catching up by a nap today. I expect I will not have trouble sleeping tonight!! Trouble waking up for feedings, maybe, but not sleeping! :)

A Good Night

Some breathing treatments throughout the day, cool mist humidifier, saline in the nostrils followed by suctioning, and a last-minute brainstorm (a couple of neosynephrine decongestant drops, for the obligatory nose-breather), and last night went pretty well, after all.

There were only some low oxygen dips when the oxygen tubing slipped out of place. We thread oxygen tubing through the "collar" (ribbon) of a stuffed animal and place the animal near her face at night, because she has a tendency to have low oxygen levels during sleep. A couple of times she also needed to be repositioned, to help with her breathing, but all in all, it really wasn't a bad night. John's at work, and it's so cold outside, I already know we won't be going to church (again).

I'm so grateful, though, that ER wasn't anything we had to worry about. Despite Hannah's wringing of the hands and Matthew telling me he'd rather have us take her to the ER than just waiting until she stops breathing. Um, yeah, me too. But guys, if it's croup or something like croup, I think I might be able to handle this one.

And like any mom who's been up at night dealing with sick children, I'm trying to figure out how to schedule a nap somewhere today. :)

Normal childhood illnesses, hurray!

Well, not so much "hurray," but it's not terribly far off. A few weeks ago, it was pneumonia. And now, I think Mallorie has croup. She was making some funny noises last night, but I dismissed them as the return of reflux. Meaning, I was trying to live in denial land about the maybe-reflux, and not listen much or get myself overly stressed about that coming back, because that would be really easy to do. Even though relapses of stuff is truly not the end of the world.

I say, I "think" croup, because Mallorie is a steadfast nose-breather, and if she gets congested, the noise and effort of her ONLY breathing through her nose complicates things a bit. The noise of breathing nasally through stuffy passages might have disguised another noise that that might have been the tip-off, that of breathing through a swollen throat. Since ALL our kids have been prone to croup, if I had heard the high-pitched noise that comes from breathing in when the swelling is particularly bad, I'd probably have had her in the steamy bathroom during the night. Or, if she'd had a cough that sounded more like classic croup. But she didn't.

What she had was noisy wet sounds that I thought were reflux, snoring sounds as she strained to breathe through her stuffy nose, and restlessness. Lots of restlessness and little sleep. Poor baby.

So it took her brother, who currently has croup (about his 3rd morning to be hanging out in the steamy bathroom), to tell me this morning that she probably has croup. And after a couple of breathing treatments and spa time in the steamy bathroom while I took my shower, she's breathing much easier. So she probaby does have it. And that would help to explain the 102.8 fever, the fretting all night, the battle with really low oxygen saturations all night, and the frequent bouts of apnea, which made me think we needed to get another caffeine level, after we just did that about a week ago.

My inner freak-out mommy is calm, for now, because croup is normal ... for us, at least. And usually fairly manageable with home treatments, like a cool mist humidifier. If it's not manageable tonight (in our experience, the 2nd night of croup is the worst), we will head to the ER. Figures, though. If this weren't a weekend, we'd be in the pedi's office begging her to consider a bit of oral steroids to head off the 2nd night struggle.

So the hurray part. Well, a few weeks ago it was a raging diaper rash from trying to add a bit of formula powder to add calories to Mallorie's milk. Then it was pneumonia and a crazy high fever, for which she needed a brief hospital stay. And got a normal IV in her arm. Then diarrhea and continuing diaper rash from antibiotics. And her managing not to get the sickness that landed me in the hospital for 24 hrs of IV fluids last weekend.

And now maybe croup. These are not the sorts of things that send me running to the edge of the cliff screaming that I can't do it, and that I'm surely going to mess her up.

Like when I pull out her new g-button, all by myself, and can't put it back in. Not even after talking sobbing being unable to talk to Dr. H on the phone.

Yeah. I'm sure Cathy is waiting on me to fess up to that one here, but I'm not ready, yet. It might have to be a Monday, so I can say it wasn't me.

I am posting a picture from another day, because Hannah won't let me post any from today. Apparently, Mal's sick day ones are not so good - not by big sister standards.

Not Me Monday! Dec. 15

While we were at the pediatrician's office this morning, I did not just tell Mallorie's pediatrician (when she said the way I was kissing Mal, I'd end up catching whatever she had) that I was TRYING to catch it, to create more antibodies for her in my milk. 'Cause if I said that, I'd have been pulling that one just out of the air! To have an answer. Even as a kid, I always never had to have the last word.

And when I said we ALL kiss her, ALL the time, on her mouth ... but not, of course, when WE are sick, Dr. B did not tell me, good, because she'd beat me up if she heard I did that!

She also did NOT tell me I'd be pumping milk for the next 14 or so years, because Mallorie's response to formula trials turn out so badly, and we shouldn't hold out hope for her doing any better with cow milk.

If she'd said that, it would NOT have made me, for the first time, ever, wonder when WILL I think I should quit?

And all these interactions this beautiful winter day absolutely, positively did not make me so happy and filled with peace to know that:

Mallorie is healthy, too healthy to have been brought into a croupy-sneezy-snotty waiting room this morning.

My freezer has milk in it, so it's OK that my supply dipped some more last week, and I'm going to have to work like crazy this week to bring it back up.

The frozen milk is not mine, but lovingly collected and preserved by other awesome women whose generosity I could never really deserve. They simply share what they can out of love for other mommy's babies. Amazing.

Mallorie is still slowly gaining back the poundage.

Dr. B is OUR pediatrician.

And while I waited in the waiting room overflow area to see whichever doc in the group was available to see us this morning, I did not watch a mom go up to the receptionist window and ask for an appointment with Dr. B. And when she made a sad face about there being no openings in Dr. B's schedule at a time when the mom was hoping to get in, so she accepted an appt with another doc, in NO WAY did I turn to Tracy and whisper to her, She wanted to see Dr. B. Join the club. Stand in line.

Nope, not me. I didn't say that, because that would have been immature and just SNOTTY!

And I absolutely, positively was not grinning, because we were NOT leaving, if we had to wait till noon or later. Even though we had no idea which doc we'd even be seeing. With my healthy girl. After waiting in a sick waiting room full of children who actually were sick. Because it's totally NOT THAT COOL to even hope for a chance to see the amazing Dr. B. (Am I right, Cathy? We don't ever tease each other with emails and texts that say things like, "I get to bring my kid to Dr. B today." We don't, right?)

Healthy living

Yesterday, I was a little nervous about posting an update. I had to go to work, and in the afternoon I got a call that that Mallorie was running a fever. I called the pediatrician's office, and was told if she seemed like she had any respiratory difficulties, she had to go back in. So I didn't want to post anything, and just waited to see.

She had the best-ever night. She isn't having problems with her breathing, and something else. I've mentioned the problems with the old gagging/reflux/vomiting stuff; she is having none of that, at all! And the secret, I really believe, is the switch to Prevacid.

I'd asked to switch to it months ago, after hearing several parents in about a 2 week period tell me that their children had such reflux/vomiting issues, until they switched to Prevacid. So we got the med, but partly because so many of us get involved in administering Mallorie's meds, we seemed to keep forgetting NOT to give Zantac, and TO give Prevacid. Once the Zantac was given, I felt we couldn't do the Prevacid, so we kept not being consistent with it. OR, maybe her near-continuous gagging was related to her still being so close to the time on the vent. But for whatever reason, we never saw a big improvement.

Then, I did some more home visits where I heard parents talking about good results from changing to Prevacid, so I decided to retry a couple of days before she got sick. And when they asked at the hospital about home meds, I just said her meds included Prevacid, and not Zantac. So the time she was in the hospital (and since), she's had an honest trial. And no. More. Vomiting. At all.

No gagging, either. None of us can stop talking about it. I'm so tuned into little noises, and keep asking, "Is she spitting up? Can someone look?" But nothing, not even the watery eyes telling us she's refluxing.

At this rate, if she keeps taking in her food and doesn't vomit the feedings up, she can't help but gain weight!

And another thing. I think she also sleeps better because her new ultra-cool g-button is so easy on her tummy, and she's so much happier as a tummy sleeper. In fact, she would just as soon stay on her tummy ALL NIGHT, and when we turn her to a side, eventually she's going to let us know she wants back to her tummy. I think much of the frequent repositioning she used to require throughout the night had to do with the discomfort of sleeping on a hard, raised lump, so we did side, side, tummy, and kept the rotation all night. Now that the Mic-Key "lump" isn't there, she wouldn't mind if we NEVER repositioned her. Just change my diaper with me here on my tummy, pour some milk in the syringe, and see you in the morning. Thank you very much.

We had to pick her up and MAKE her join the world this morning at about 11 am!!! We'd already done her meds, morning feeding, breathing treatments, and blood pressure measurements, all with her snoozing on her tummy, and nothing would make her decide to wake up on her own. Oh, yeah, Dr. H is still her hero. Big time.

One For the Road.

Mallorie is getting one more dose of antibiotic, and then we can leave. Yay! Thank you all for your prayers.

Mallorie's (*and her siblings') first "real" snow!

Tamara (http://www.carepages.com/carepages/ConnerLemus) emailed me a little bit ago; apparently, our kiddos were feeding about the same time of night, and she wrote this:

I just wanted to let you know.....IT'S SNOWING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

It is beautiful. I got up to warm a bottle, and happened to glance outside the window by the sink in the kitchen. Everything is white and beautiful. I gave conner his bottle, and put on my shoes and grabbed the camera.

It is snowing big, soft, white flakes, and it is beautiful!! I took load of pics, which I'll post on his carepage tomorrow. I even put a paper plate outside to catch some for alyssa. I'll get up in a few hours and put it in the freezer. I ALMOST woke her, but figured that would be irresponsible parenting, since she does go to school tomorrow. If I had, I would have had to do a Not Me Monday, also.

And Chona (Mal's nurse tonight) gave me a similar story, and said that people are outside throwing mini-snowballs at each other. So I did what any responsible parent would do. I woke up Hannah and sent her outside to see what it looks like outside the hospital, and called John so he could wake up the other kids. He's no more responsible than I am (meaning he's WAY better at being impulsive, making him a great dad!), so the next thing I know, I'm getting a call from Hannah (outside), letting me know Daddy and the other kids are on their way to the hospital so they can go outside and have a snowball fight and make snow angels. They are at an all-night pharmacy, buying batteries for the camera!

See why I love him? He has never quite lost that child inside, and the kids are better off for that.


Now he'd better get them back into bed before we have more kiddoes with pneumonia!! Chona says we'll have to open a suite!

Still Here (or, Button, Button, Who's Got the Button?)

Sorry; I had to leave for work today, and didn't have a chance to update till now. Discharge was postponed till tomorrow, to wait to see how the chest x-ray and labs look.

Dr. H. came in while I was out, and put in the cool new g-button, though. I cannot wait to see what a difference it makes in the skin on her tummy. I'm with Jessica; I hate the Mic-Key®!

She got this button. It's called the Mini One, and has the best features of a Bard® button (low profile, has anti-reflux valve, has the silicone anchoring plug) and the Mic-Key® (the feeding tube locks in place), all rolled into one. SOMEONE apparently knows how to listen to parents! In one fell swoop, Dr. H's description of this button dismissed all my reservations about making the switch. And I was asking about putting real foods in through this button ('cause Dr. H isn't all issue-laden about things like that), and he said, no problem. And then I read this in the Caregiver's Reference Guide: A gastrostomy tube is a convenient, comfortable and
effective means for delivering nutritional formulas to the body. These formulas are either commercially available or homemade using a food processor. This is in reference to feeding through a g-button, guys. Cause we know some people have the thought that this wouldn't be OK.

And also on the website, it says this button is compatible with the Mic-Key® feedsets! We won't even have to figure out which supply company will get extension tubes for us! I can hear the sound of the crowds running out to their pedisurgeons' offices for these things!

Yeah, I know. I sound like a crazy person g-button sales rep. But it's that exciting. Though I guess you gotta have a life that revolves around tube feedings to get that. Wait, no. Dr. B's colleague who was covering today, the inimitable (other) Dr. H was pretty excited about it, too! I distinctly recall him using the phrase, "really cool" when we were talking about it this morning. It's not just me.

Oh, the answer to the question you are thinking of asking: I found the ® on the website, too, and thought it was fun to put to use in this post.


I have to add this addendum. I went to check out the g-button site from the link I put here, and realized that they show one scary-looking contraption, and no one would know from that what the button really looks like! The button is like the drawing on the left side of that page, and not at all like how the blue and white photograph looks. The blue/white bow&arrow contraption at the top of the buttons is actually an applicator that the doctor uses to place the button into an opening that already exists in the tummy of someone who's had a tube. The actual "button" is the smaller portion at the bottom. Here is a side view of Mallorie's new button (the bottom picture). The actual visible portion is the very top, the horizontal part of the "T." To look at her tummy, it sort of looks like she has that little tab that you see on blow-up beach balls. It's see-through, soft silicone, and if you had ever seen her other button up close, you'd notice it's much less obvious. And since Mallorie is preferentially a belly-sleeper, a soft, flexible external portion of a button device is much kinder to the skin of her belly.

I know; way more than you needed or wanted to know. But you have to trust me. The pedisurgeon Dr. H is Mallorie's new hero.

Old friends

Mallorie's daddy and big brothers watched her this evening so I could nap a bit. There had been a shift change, and Mallorie's nurse tonight is Chona, who took care of Matthew when he was admitted at 4 months of age with croup. Watching Chona and the other nurses during that stay was what convinced me, as a new nursing school graduate, that I wanted to be a pediatric nurse.

And tonight, Matthew was helping his dad and Chona by measuring out Mallorie's home medications, checking the blood pressure before giving the BP med, changing diapers, helping to feed by tube. What a difference 11 years makes.

It's so neat to have Chona watching over Mallorie. She's one of the smartest and sweetest persons I have ever known.

And I think Ida DID try a scalp IV today! Turned out not to be such a great vein, but if I'm correct, then it might have been another first! Ida was the nurse I was working with on the very memorable day when I started my own first scalp IV, years ago ... because there was a little girl with a HUGE vein staring at us and no good IV sites elsewhere, and Ida told me, very sweetly, to go ahead, if I wanted to try for it, because, "I don't do scalp IV's." Never say never.

We have an IV!

Thanks to very cool technology (using ultrasound) and plenty of talent, we have a first: an IV in the arm! Imagine looking at a monitor screen while your hands are doing intricate work elsewhere. You should've seen it.

So we'll stay another day.

Good thing the people are so nice and we like it here and all, because we are not going home today.

Let's see. Scalp IV came out when someone (too late for a "Not Me Monday") was giving Mallorie a bath after she pooped all over my clothes and her own entire body. We won't talk about who was giving the said bath, and obviously was thinking we were going home today, anyway, and maybe wasn't careful enough about the site.

The requirements for discharge were no fever and acting better and "like herself." She got the last 2 parts, but keeps wanting to run fevers. I like this doctor, though, because he does what he feels most comfortable doing, and I have to agree with him, that full treatment now beats going home and maybe having a relapse.

So they will be restarting the IV in a few minutes. Please pray; you all know that starting an IV on this girl is a true test of the skill of medical types! But nurse Sharon is caring for her again, today, and she's already looked at Mallorie's forehead, and said in a very positive tone, "I see a good vein right here."

(Ida, I already told her you don't do scalp IV's and she's going to have to find someone else if she needs backup.) :)

And my long-term buddy, Dr. H (the pedi surgeon), might be able to change her g-button to a new and improved version ... today! So we have plenty of stuff right here to entertain ourselves. Cathy: he says it has the good features of the Bard buttons, plus the tubing locks in like the Mic-Keys! What more can a girl ask for? Plus, the entertaining personality of sweet Dr. H.

Ida and Sharon are here, looking all over for IV sites. Pray.

And I have help again.

Restless

As far as Mallorie's breathing goes, she is better today than yesterday. And so far, no fever this morning. The doctor said if she is more herself and fever-free today, there is a possibility of discussing discharge this afternoon.

Despite the lovely sleeping baby picture, there was not much sleep to be had last night, after all. I woke Mal at 1 a.m. for neosynephrine drops, and then she stayed awake, restlessly tossing her head and dropping it on her pillow, and moaning, making me concerned about losing her IV. It lasted just long enough for me to have requested the nurse call and ask the doctor about something to help her get some sleep ... which I regret, because I have always hated the idea of waking a doctor in the night for anything other than an emergency. Of course, before the answer was even received, Mal settled down, and was able to return to her crib and fall asleep at about 4 a.m. So we woke that poor doctor unnecessarily! Mallorie slept till about 6:30, when she needed to be seen by the doctor (same one we caused to be awakened, so fair's fair) and the drops again, and now she's tossing around, and babbling and sort of crying.

My vote is for HOME today sometime! At least there are more people there to take turns holding and soothing, and no IV sites to guard. I am so grateful to my family for the way they all help. Hannah held Mallorie and stroked her head till she fell asleep last night, watching to make sure Mal didn't dislodge her IV with all the head tossing. She's now crashed on the couch here in the room, and I hope she catches up for the sleep she missed holding her sister and afterward, trying to sleep in a chair. Matthew stayed here with me to help the night before, and Carley has been faithfully mixing up batches of milk each day (fresh plus frozen plus electrolyte additives) so I haven't even had to figure out the calculations or mess with the measurements or washing the bottles. And Jacob's just been being cute. We think he still thinks he's the baby of the family, sometimes. He's usually the one who gets Mallorie's blood pressure readings and records them morning and night, so we need to be home so he can get back to his routines!

Of course, John would be here if he could, but I wouldn't get any more sleep being home, anyway, if Mallorie was here and I was worrying about her. So he's managing the things at home and going to work each day, too.

So please pray for enough improvements for Mal to go home later today. I have a long day at work tomorrow, home visits that could not be rescheduled, so a good night of sleep at home for all would be wonderful! As wonderful as it has been here, we'll be SO happy at home, too!

On the other hand.

I believe we will be sleeping, after all. :)

It Pays to Know People!

Thanks to Cathy (Annabel's mommy), some of you already know we are in the hospital with Mallorie. I wanted to let you know she's much better, though we're still here.

Mal got some sort of respiratory illness toward the end of the past week, and by yesterday morning, it looked like she was really working at breathing. I had been flushing her nose with saline, and suctioning her throughout the night, and gave her extra pedialyte to help loosen her secretions, and just felt she needed more of the same in the morning, but when I was done, it just wasn't enough to ease her breathing, and I was worried about how much effort she was putting into breathing. (It didn't help that I'd dreamed in the night that she had been intubated and was on a vent at the childrens hospital where we had spent February, and had pulled out the tube and removed part of her mouth ... and a collection of residents were arguing about who got to sew her mouth back on!)

At one moment Hannah, 14, (who panics even more than I do) took Mal in her arms and announced, "We need to go to the hospital," and Matthew, 11, asked, "What if it's croup? I know when I have that, I feel like, This is it. It's the day I'm going to die, because I can't breathe." And then a second later, Cathy asked in a text, "Does Dr. B know?"

So then I panicked, because I had been thinking of sending my husband to the pharmacy to buy Neosynephrine drops, ... and everyone around me thinks it's more serious. By the time we got to the ER, we learned her temp was over 106, and x-rays showed pneumonia, so she got admitted to "heaven." (HANNAH JUST TOLD ME TO STOP RIGHT HERE, because that sounds wrong. I meant to heaven on Earth, I guess.)

Both of the hospitals in this town are amazing, and I have worked in the pediatric units of both, so I know the quality of care better than most people. But what I haven't experienced in ages was the blessing of watching my child receive compassionate and excellent care from one of these special pedi units or ER. From Susan in the ER, who listened to how Mal is a difficult IV start, and then quickly and effortlessly started her IV in her usual place (scalp), to Sharon, Betty, Angela, Angie, Helen, Mary Ann, Mary, and Niyah, who have been in and out of our room in the past 24+ hrs, providing care for Mallorie and company for me, and keep telling us how beautiful our sweet girl is, I have never felt "alone" for a moment.

I told a friend this evening that I have felt like we are staying in a wonderful hotel, and dear friends are caring for our baby. Staying in a local hospital is SO much better than going a couple of hours away to the big childrens hospital. Here Mallorie's care is overseen by someone from Dr. B's group, and although we personally love her more than anyone in the world, almost, ... each doctor in the group is a caring and excellent pediatrician, so there is continuity of care and a great sense of safety, no matter who is the current hospitalist.

I was talking with Cathy (Annabel's mommy) this evening, and she asked me, "Can't you get on the computer while you're there? Do you just not want to?" I had no idea what she was talking about, but apparently, you can use the computer in the patient rooms in this hospital??? So here I am.

And here is Mallorie on happy steroids, which is making me wonder how Hannah or I will get any sleep tonight. :)




Thank you for your prayers. And thank you, Cathy, for letting people know through your blog. Thank you, Katha, for letting the co-op moms know. And thank you, Cathy and Dr. B for getting Mallorie onto the ACTS community prayer chain. I'm loving me some sisters right now.

And I guess now that Cathy filled me in on the big computer secret, if we don't get to go home soon, I may be able to update, myself! And you all know me and my cell phone pictures.

Happy Birthday, Tristan

Once upon a time there was a family who were eagerly expecting a baby boy, but partway through the pregnancy, they were told their boy might not be born alive, or if he was, he might not even take a breath. Or he might stop breathing very quickly. His parents were very frightened and sad, but they loved their unborn boy, and wanted him for as long as he would be with them. They planned for him, and loved him, and when he was born, he breathed! He breathed so well, he went home from the hospital to his family's home. He kept breathing, and every day the family celebrated his life and his breathing, knowing he might not always be with them. His crazy mommy took hundreds and thousands of pictures, and tried lots of clothes on him. His parents asked lots of questions of their baby's sweet doctor, and of anyone who might have ideas about how best to care for him.

The sweet boy lived 56 glorious days, and then one day God asked him to go to his forever home, in heaven. His family now eagerly waits for the day when they will live with their baby boy again.

Those who were blessed enough to get to know him, even from afar, miss him very much.

You can go to his blog if you want to read the beautiful story of Tristan H.

Poppy Joy

One year ago today, a dear friend gave birth to a sweet girl named Poppy Joy. Poppy's birth was anticipated with much joy and with some sadness, because her parents learned before her birth that she had Trisomy 18, and no one knew what would happen that day.

Poppy lived three very full hours, and in that time brought so much joy, and God used her life to showed us all how precious three hours could be.

You can see a video of her life here.

Today is also the day that Poppy's family finalizes the adoption of Poppy's and big sister Marianna's new sister, Adrienne. Today is a big day.