• Jun. 12, 2006
Part III
**Disclaimer** At a recent event someone asked me how we started home schooling. I told her about my experience at the home school convention, yada, yada. The more I thought about it, the more that was the smallest part of the equation. I want my girls (and bubba) to know that this was a much bigger calling than attending a convention.
Part III
Due to many factors, Kevin was induced early. Instead of the usual pitocin, I was given a half of a pill to start labor. Unfortunately, my body did not tolerate this pill very well and the only way they could get the contractions to stop was to give me injections to try to slow things down. We also lost his heart beat twice during this ordeal and later learned that the cord was wrapped around his neck rather snugly.
Before he was induced however, I preached to myself not the gospel, but the fact that this baby was never going to make it. I think a lot of that was still reeling from being told this was, more than likely, going to be our last child. Because I obsessed about it, I had stopped sleeping and was a total basket case.
Things didn't get much better after he was born. He was just a different baby than Kyla had been. Suddenly everything we applied with Kyla didn't work with Kevin. Because of a tongue thrust "thing" Kyla had, I was unable to nurse her. Kevin nursed non-stop and I had no idea how much nursing, especially the first weeks, takes out of you. Oh and the fact that it was toe-curling painful. YIKES! He also didn't go back to sleep at night. He wanted to be up, and not like in a swing or bouncy seat - he wanted to be held. When he did sleep, it was usually in his vibrating bouncer (which could equate for his need for constant motion today).
Suddenly, everything was in chaos. I had a fussy baby that wouldn't sleep, a two year old who was on the verge of turning 13, Jim and his family were dealing with some very heavy issues, my grandad had just died, I was trying to wrap up the end of the year and was doing as much work at home as I could, and I was lost. I didn't know who I was anymore. Jim was working a ton and I totally lost sight of him. It was all I could do to function during the day.
Summer brought a little relief, but not much. I look back on pictures of that summer and I don't even recognize myself. I was on a path of depression, but didn't fully realize that is what was happening. Remember I was the all together get my masters, work full time, have a baby, life is so easy gal. I so didn't know what was happening - not only that, but no one else around me seemed to see a problem.
So school started again and I went back to work on a job-sharing contract. When you teach "part-time" you might as well be full-time for the amount of work you put into it, but I didn't have to be at work until 11:30 every day and I had every other Wednesday off. In September, I started not feeling well at all. It was one of my off Wednesdays and I was at Wal-Mart with the kids. I don't know what possessed me, but I bought a pregnancy test. Later that day I cried and cried and cried. It was positive. I was shocked. Kevin was 5 months old.
At eight weeks pregnant with Rylie, I started bleeding. Jim took me to the emergency room and we were told that I was probably miscarrying this baby. After running some blood work they decided to go ahead and do an ultrasound since the numbers looked good. I remember the technician told us that she wouldn't be able to give us any information and I was not in a position to see the screen. In the middle of the ultrasound she flipped a switch and the dead silent room came to life with a whoosh-whoosh-whoosh. There was a heartbeat.
On Halloween that year, we were over at friends and the men took the little ones out to Trick-or-Treat at the neighbors. That is when my dear friend looked at me and said, "Robbin, I think you are depressed. Do you think you are depressed?" The floodgates just opened and I just bawled. Finally, I felt like it wasn't just all in my head, that something serious was going on. I later asked Jim, who knew something was seriously wrong, why he hadn't said anything to me. He said that I was just in such a fragile state he didn't know if what he said could send me over the edge even farther. I don't blame him - he didn't know who this was and I didn't either.
Then in December, a blood test we had taken came back positive for Rylie to have Downs Syndrome. We went ahead with a Level II ultrasound, but wouldn't consent to an amnio. Typically, the test I took errs on the side of giving false positives. That is because it has to be taken in a certain window during the pregnancy and sometimes people are off on their dates. We, on the other hand were certain of our baby's size due to having ultrasounds so early on. Because of family history we are viewed, on paper at least, as being at a higher risk for birth disorders, so we did agree to genetic counseling. (Which, on a side note was very fascinating. For the first time I actually saw someone use the male and female signs to make family trees that you learn in high school - very scientific).
The holiday season was dreadful and things couldn't go on like they had been. Something was going to have to give and neither one of us knew what to do. The new year was to bring big change one way or the other.
