blood is thicker

I had my 6 week post partum check up this week.  All is well.  I am healing well, cleared for exercise, and good to go.  We talked a bit about my blood.  Back in the spring, Dr. T called me to tell me that I had a blood antibody that could affect baby.  It is a rare antibody, called the JKA antibody, and then told me to google it.  There isn't a lot of information out there on this specific antibody, but what I did find was from others who had it, primarily who had posted on baby and parenting forums.  This antibody, if it becomes quantifiable, can basically cross the placenta and attack baby's blood.  If that happens then the baby needs transfusions.

So every month I had to have blood tests to make sure the levels didn't get too high (they never did).  It also meant that any transfusions I got would need to be with blood with the antibody or the blood could be rejected.  The day before Graeme was born I had to have one more blood draw to type and cross check to make sure they had blood with the antibody.  They had two units ready to go.

Well, we all know that I need a few more units more than that, and they didn't have time to cross check that blood.  So I risked the chance of rejection of the blood, which I learned this week was a much higher possibility than anyone told us at the time.  Dr. T was in close contact with a doctor at the blood bank, as were all the doctors at Mercy.  Dr. T told me that it is yet another miracle that I didn't reject that blood.

A direct result of me receiving so much blood is that we have become avid fans of blood donation. Dan already was a donor, and his dad also donates regularly.  There has been talk of having a drive in my honor, which thrills me.  I even wrote a note to the trooper who brought more blood to the hospital when they ran out (turns out his wife works with Dan).

So, once again I have many other people to thank for keeping me alive.  Thanks for your prayers, and, if you donate blood, thank you.  You save lives.  If you don't donate, but are able, go donate a pint for me.

God was with you

After spending a significant amount of time (for a post-op) for our visit, talking us through the events of October 16, in the end, my OB said this: God was with you.  Through all of the bleeding that would not stop, through all of the methods attempted to make it stop, through all of the deliveries of more blood by the state's finest police, through all of the prayers of strangers, family, and friends, through all of the people who worked on me, God had a reason to keep me alive.  I don't know what that reason is yet, with exception to three kids who need their mommy, and a husband who needs his wife.  I feel I have a deep responsibility to pray prayers for others who may be in dire situations, because so many of you took a few minutes to think about me.  Thank you.  I also have a responsibility to live life to the fullest.

I did have a minor setback two weeks ago.  The antibiotics I was given in the hospital managed to kill off the good bacteria in my intestines, causing the bad bacteria to take over.  I became extremely ill and dehydrated.  When I called the ER, one of my surgeons was on-call and suggested I might have C. Diff, which I did, and fluids and a different antibiotic appear to have taken care of the problem.  It was a rough couple of days.  But overall I feel good.  I am getting out a bit each day, and am able to help with Slane and Hanna much more, which is good because Dan is back at work full-time.

Speaking of getting out, I have never felt so much a part of this community.  Almost everywhere I go, someone is glad to see me, and offers help, playdates, and general thanksgiving that I am walking among them.  I feel like a celebrity of sorts, but I take to heart that I (and we) are all cared for and loved by those around us.

I have one more thing I'd like to share.  I chose to have our babies in our small town because I love the staff in the maternity wing of the hospital.  They are dedicated and caring for everyone who walks through their doors.  They also took good care of my baby when I couldn't.  They kept a list of everyone who visited, they took pictures and saved them for me, and they sent pictures to Des Moines for me.  They didn't have to do that.  I know Graeme was cuddled and loved by the finest nurses and staff around.  And I have no idea who made it possible for Graeme to come and stay in Des Moines with me, but I will be forever thankful.  Holding him for the first time was maybe one of the most emotional moments I have experienced.       

How to give and receive

Intense, traumatic experiences pull stories and advice out of people. It's a mysterious force. While the advice and stories are still fresh, I thought I'd share the best of the advice we received with you.   (Names changed to protect the innocent.)

• Make a double batch. Marcy, our neighbor, shared that she will make a double batch of a meal - one for her family, another for the family who needs it.
• One word: therapy. Katherine, a friend who had an experience similar to ours. While she had sworn she would never go to therapy (she works as a social worker), the trauma she experienced caused her to reconsider her strict stance on therapy. Her husband also saw a therapist. The therapy gave each of them an opportunity to talk through and process the trauma that each had experienced.
• Be a yes man... Clayton, a friend who also had an experience like ours, recommended a month of live in help. At the very least, let people come and help and give them specific tasks. Keep it simple.
• ...but just say no to casserole. Jim, a former colleague, shared that his family continues to have a no casserole policy because his family received so many casseroles as meals following a death in the family. 

I would add this to the list: give your community an opportunity to help you through your trauma. The day that they transferred Sara out of ICU, I had a conversation with Alma, the mother of one of the Amish girls injured in an accident on the day of Graeme's birth. Eventually, it turned to the power of community to transcend the self and the tragedies we sometimes experience. Her community had helped her through many trials - births, injuries, and now through her daughter's accident. We agreed that community is a place where we both serve and are served, where we give and receive. Our experiences in ICU had taught each of us that it is much easier to give than to receive.

I chose to share our experience of Graeme's birth and Sara's challenges and recovery on Facebook, Twitter, and this blog because I could not keep all of the fear, anxiety, and uncertainty inside of me. I had to channel that energy into something useful. The response I received gave me comfort and strength, letting me know I was not alone. Every time I posted something new on Facebook, my phone chimed and buzzed dozens of times, like prayer candles flickering in church.

What have I learned from the past three weeks? Whenever someone is hurting, let that person know you care. No act is too small: whether it's cooking a meal, running a load of laundry, sending flowers, sending a text, or liking a Facebook post. We are not alone.

The surreal world of ICU

The Intensive Care Unit is a surreal space. Mercy hospital in Des Moines has done a wonderful job of making it a humane, compassionate space. Nevertheless, it is a space of grief, anxiety, and uncertainty. As I waited with Sara, I became aware of the strangers on the journey with me.

During Sara's stay the foyer was filled with Amish. Apparently, two girls had been injured in a freak accident between a buggy and a semi in southern Iowa. Women in plain dresses and men in beards huddled, waiting for news. A father and his son waited for news about his wife. A family reunion sprouted while waiting for news about a beloved patriarch. Many of us slept in our clothes in pullout couches and armchairs, looking disheveled, disoriented, and distraught. Despite the human touches - private, keypad-protected waiting rooms; a shower; linens; computers and wireless access - it felt a little too public.

Some of our journeys had happy endings. Like Sara, the Amish girls showed resilience and were transferred out of Intensive Care. The elder girl's arm was in a sling, but remained in good spirits. For others, the journey ended in ICU. The patriarch's 88-year-old heart stopped beating.

I give thanks to everyone who cared intensively for us during Sara's time in ICU and I pray for the strangers whose journeys have brought them to that place. May they find comfort and peace.

The surreal feeling of 5/4 time

5/4 - or any five-beat time signature - has an unevenness to it: 1-2-3 1-2. 1-2-3 1-2. We're finding our way with the five beats in our family. Eight days after Graeme's birth, our biggest concerns have shifted from "When will Sara leave ICU?" to "When will Sara's shoes fit?" (A trip to Brown's for clogs may be in our future.)

Her recovery thus far has been so swift, it boggles my mind almost to the point of questioning whether what we went through last Tuesday really happened. We still have a long road ahead as Sara's swelling dissipates, her incision heals, and she regains her stamina. Graeme's first checkup was a reminder that it did happen. His doctor and I spent equal time talking about Graeme and Sara. (Graeme is doing well, by the way.)

As Sara continues to recover, our attention to find our rhythm as a family of five. Our return and the departure of my parents has unsettled the girls. Hanna had never spent so much time away from us before and has been fussier and clingier than usual. Slane has regressed a little and her play has also changed, adopting new storylines from life events. Tonight, her Grover doll had to visit the doctor and used a breathing machine.

Support from family, friends, and neighbors continues to pour in. Meals, dishes, yardwork, cards, prayers. It's a little overwhelming. One of the lessons you have taught us is that it is much easier to give than to receive. We thank you for all that you have done for us during this difficult time.

Together again at home

After a week of surgeries, uncertainty, and recovery, we are all home. More reflections on the past week and being home together tomorrow.
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What Sara's road to recovery might look like

The past week has been a blur. It's hard to believe last Monday Graeme was still inside Sara and both of us were at work. Sara's medical team is so impressed with her progress, but we still have a long road to recovery. The gap between her darkest hours and normal health is large, but we're making giant steps.

What will Sara's road to recovery look like?

Sara is eating solid foods again and all of her bodily functions are functioning again. We were going to breastfeed, but after the trauma Sara experienced her milk has not come in. It may never come in. Her doctors say Sara may come home by Friday, but her nurses in the mother-baby unit at Mercy think it may be sooner. We're in no rush.

The support team has already sprung to action, bringing meals, doing yardwork, cleaning dishes, taking care of other needs around the house, and making other donations. It is so much easier to give than to receive. Your support and generosity overwhelms us. We look forward to paying it forward.

Bringing Graeme to Sara

Saturday morning I drove home to Grinnell to pick up Graeme and bring him to Sara. After saying hello to my dad and the girls, my brother and I drove to the hospital to get Graeme. Sara's anesthesiologist, Alex, happened to be in the OB unit. We hugged and cried. She was so glad to hear Sara was doing so well. I was so thankful she did so much to save Sara's life.

After many thank yous and goodbyes to the OB nurses in Grinnell and a car seat check, Uncle Chris drove Graeme and me to Des Moines. When we presented Graeme, Sara beamed.

The first night away from Grinnell Regional was a little rough, just as it was with our two girls, but we found our rhythm yesterday. We can't wait to be a family of five, home together.

meeting Graeme, basic needs, overwhelming gratefulness

Yesterday, as I was finishing lunch, a special little guy knocked  on my door.  I was so excited to see him that I cried.  I held Graeme for some time, and loved every second of it.  Pictures are great, facetime is wonderful, but holding my little guy, who I only met in passing?  Wow.

His Uncle Chris (and Dave and the ob department in Grinnell) did such an awesome job loving on him this week that I didn't ask to hold him a lot yesterday, because I think Chris needed to do that.  In fact, I think Graeme may have had some withdrawal last night.  I am so glad that Chris could do that, so our little guy would not be alone.  

The hospital has been great, but the differences between a city hospital and Grinnell are noticeable.  There is no massage therapist here, and I was lamenting that, and we didn't get our "Special" steak dinner, so the Grinnell team sent gift certificates for each of those.  We got a card from one of our ultrasound techs with cash in it to help with whatever we need.  So sweet.  They also sent a CD with pictures of Graeme's first few days, and sent a list of all his visitors.  My Grandma said she got to hold him for 45 minutes and they were so nice to her during that time.  The staff here at Mercy is great.  They get what I need, respond quickly when I call, and are thorough.  I feel very well cared for.

Apparently things are doing okay at home.  I knew I had some vegetables ready to process and wasn't sure if that had happened, when we got a call yesterday from the person dropping off our first meal.  She noticed there were vegetables that needed to be taken care of and asked if that would be okay.  

Dan's parents and the girls came last night.  They seemed to be okay.  Slane was a bit hyper and Hanna was very sleepy, but it was still good to see my girls.  I think if they come again we need to remember to have toys on hand.  Mike and Debbie kind of had to just figure things out and I think they have done a good job with that.  

I am still overwhelmed by the generosity of strangers.  Dan had befriended a sweet Amish lady when I was in the ICU and she stopped by yesterday to check on me.  Cash is coming in from people we barely know.  Things are being taken care of and I am not stressed about much except getting better.  A doctor from my OB team was here earlier and projects that I will be send home mid to late next week.  It sounds like it is really up to the ICU team, but that makes sense.  I am planning to take more leave than I thought, because I really need to feel good to go back to taking care of my three kiddos and teaching my 500 kiddos.  For now, I'm thrilled to be able to nap as needed, get out of the bed by myself, and play with my breathing machine.

- Sara

Sara progresses, Graeme goes to Des Moines!

Today was a great day. Sara walked, moved out of ICU to the Mother-Baby Unit at Mercy (room 2033), and started eating liquids. The best news of all is that they will let Graeme stay with Sara and me at the hospital.

We've already had a few visitors here. We will be here at least through the weekend. Visitors are welcome. Sara's condition continues to improve, but her energy and stamina are still weak. Though we can't wait to hold Graeme (Facetime is amazing, but no substitute for real cuddles), we still have a very long road to recovery. We also have to find our rhythm together as a family of five.

Sara's recovery has been so rapid it seems hard to believe that just Tuesday we experienced the joys and terrors of childbirth. Life is so fragile. The ability of the human body to stretch its limits amazes me.

Your prayers, thoughts, and encouragement carried us through our darkest hours on Tuesday. They continue to sustain us. Thank you so much.

Sara speaks, leaves ICU

Sara here. (Dan is my typist.) I'm transferring from ICU to the Mother-Baby Unit on the 2nd floor, east wing at Mercy in Des Moines. It's okay to come and visit me, though I may be napping. Bring toenail polish - my toes are a mess and I have to wear hospital socks.

I walked all the way to the end of the hallway and back. It felt good. Really good.

I am eating. It's all liquid, and that's okay. It's been a while since I've been this excited about jello. Maybe first grade.

They removed my catheter and I peed on my own this morning. I had a bath (sort of). It's a container of heated baby wipes marked "bath".

I did Facetime with Graeme this morning. He was cute and cuddly, making little baby faces in his sleep. His Uncle Chris does such a good job with him.

All your prayers and messages have been incredibly humbling. They are obviously working because ...here we are. Thank you.

My goodness, we're going to be blown away with so much help and support with Graeme and the girls. I don't know how we're going to show people how we appreciate it as much as we do.

 - Sara

How to help

Many people have asked how they can help us. Gracious friends are coordinating support for us, led by Chris Day. Details are on the Help MamaCue Facebook group. Please join it if you are interested in helping out. In addition:

• If you attend First Presbyterian Church, talk with Marlene Peak.
• If you work with Dan or Sara, talk with their supervisors.
• If you are an Eveland (or associate with one), talk with Shelli Eveland.
• If you are a Hoksbergen (or associate with one), talk with Carol Hoksbergen.
• if you attend Bethel CRC, talk with Shelli Eveland.

If you are none of the above, join the Help MamaCue Facebook group or contact David Eberbach.

How is Sara?

Sara's status and outlook has improved dramatically over the past 48 hours. She remains in ICU at Mercy in Des Moines. Her medical team has removed her drainage tube and she has started eating ice chips, the first things she has taken orally since a glass of milk Monday night. Her vitals are normal and her doctors are quite pleased with her progress. She may begin taking liquids and her first post-surgery walk tomorrow.

She stood up and sat in a chair twice today. Her nurses (Melissa, Nikki, Linda, and Tabitha), other medical staff and visitors (parents, siblings, in-laws, niece, nephew, friends, and the girls) have kept her spirits up.

How is Graeme?

Graeme is also doing well, receiving love, cuddles, and attention from his ob nurses and visitors. His big sisters met him for the first time last night. He and his Uncle Chris have video chatted with us several times. Graeme will come home Saturday. We will post more pictures soon!

Thank you.

Thank you for all your thoughts, prayers, and encouragement. They have sustained us.

Sara doing better

 "You keep trying to pick a fight, but I'm still just happy you're alive." - Bob Parr (Mr. Incredible), The Incredibles, 

No, Sara has not tried to pick a fight, but I am still just happy she's alive. Her medical team is beginning to wean her off of oxygen and blood pressure medication. They are also giving her medication to manage her pain. Sara is resting frequently, but fully alert and communicating. She is able to move all her limbs.

We thank everyone who has said a prayer, lifted us up in their thoughts, and shared words of encouragement through a variety of communication channels. It has given us strength knowing so many care for Sara and Graeme's well-being. It's humbling, too. 

The four questions I hear most frequently are:

1. How are Graeme and Sara doing? They are doing well. 
2. How do you pronounce Graeme? Like the cracker (if you're a foodie) or the unit of measurement (if you're a geek).
3. What caused the bleeding? This is a question that Sara and I have given little thought to now. This was Sara's fourth pregnancy and third c-section. We knew that there would likely be bleeding following delivery. The uterine wall was so thin in places, I could Graeme in the womb. (I'm told this is not normal). Fortunately, her medical teams in Grinnell and Des Moines took actions that stopped the bleeding and saved her life. I have spoken with a few friends who have gone through this and they had the same experiences we had. 
4. When will Sara hold Graeme? Soon. The Ob department and family and friends in Grinnell are doing a great job lovin' on Graeme. The ICU at Mercy in Des Moines is doing a great job with Sara, but we don't know yet when she will come home.
5. What can I do to help? We are working on a support plan for when Sara and Graeme come home. We'll share details in a future post - stay tuned.

The recovery begins

Great news: Sara is awake, alert, and communicating. She is off of her ventilator and breathing on her own. Her blood pressure is holding stable without medication. She even stood up, though she said it was painful. She says she felt like she's been hit by a bus.

Before they removed the ventilator, she responded with nods, squeezes, and facial gestures. She also wrote three notes to me: "tube out", "choke", and "gag". That's when I spoke to her nurse, Melissa, about removing Sara's breathing tube.

Sara is recuperating at Mercy hospital in Des Moines. She's not ready to accept visitors just yet. Many thanks to Melissa and Nikki her nurses here. Thanks also to all the doctors, nurses, techs, and staff that have cared for her.

And thanks to you for your thoughts, prayers, and encouragement.

Sara day 2 post-surgery

Sara is now out of surgery. The bleeding has essentially stopped. She is still sedated and on medication to stabilize her blood pressure. She will probably remain sedated through the night. Her medical team is working to get her breathing on her own without assistance. She is in a better, more stable condition than she was 24 hours ago.

Knowing that she appears to be on a road to recovery, I now feel more comfortable sharing a few photos of Graeme post-delivery. Sara has not yet held Graeme, but will when she comes home.

Sara, before school Monday morning.

Graeme, fresh from the oven.

Happy family!

Graeme and Sara.

Sara in surgery

Sara is now in surgery. The purpose of this surgery is to finish the exploratory surgery from yesterday afternoon. Her medical team is looking to confirm that the bleeding has stopped and close  her up from the surgery yesterday.

Sara remains under sedation. With a little help from medication, her blood pressure is stable. She is breathing on her own through a ventilator.

Assuming surgery goes well, she will likely be at the hospital in Des Moines through the weekend. I'll give another update post-surgery.

I have spoken with friends and family about an action plan to help us once Sara and Graeme are home. More details to come.

Thank you for your thoughts, prayers, and encouragement.

Sara update day 2

Sara had a good night for someone in her condition. Her blood pressure remained stable with a little help from medication. She remains fully sedated.

She is still scheduled for surgery today. This surgery is really just a continuation of the third surgery yesterday, which was to locate the source of the bleeding and to help stop it. Today's surgery will see if the bleeding has stopped.

I'll post an update after the surgery. Thanks for your thoughts, prayers, and encouragement.

Sara Update 4

Sara may finally be stabilizing. Her blood pressure is normal. Other levels suggest her bleeding has stopped but we won't know for certain until an exploratory surgery late morning.

When Sara's nurse, Nikki, found out Sara is a music teacher, she offered to play one of the music channels for her. Sara is now listening to the Groove, r+b of the '70s.

Thanks for all you continued prayers and words of encouragement.
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Sara Update 3

Sara is still sedated. Doctors are using medications to keep her vital signs stable while they seek to determine the source of the bleeding. It seems she may have turned a corner, but we won't know until tomorrow.

Back in Grinnell, Graeme is doing well.

The outpouring of prayers, thoughts, and offers to assist us is humbling. I'm so grateful we have so many thoughtful, caring people in our lives. Once Sara is stable and conscious, I will have a better sense of what our needs will be.

Keep Sara, Graeme, and their caregivers in your prayers. Hug a nurse and tell them thanks. The efforts of Sara's doctors, nurses, and techs have saved her life. I hope and pray their work in the coming hours helps Sara back onto the road to recovery.

Sara update 2

Sara is now at a hospital in Des Moines. She is sedated. Her blood pressure is stable. Her doctors are working to stabilize her and determine if the bleeding can be treated with surgery or with medicine.

While in Grinnell, she received 12 units of blood and 15 units of clotting agents. Some of the blood was brought to Grinnell by state trooper.

Thanks to everyone for your thoughts and prayers.

Graeme and Sara update 1

First, the good news: Sara gave birth to a beautiful baby boy, Graeme Seeger, at 8:10 this morning. He was 9 lbs. and 10 oz., 21 inches long. He is eating and sleeping well.

Sara had complications following the delivery by cesarean section. Her medical team was not able to control her bleeding, which led to an emergency hysterectomy. Unfortunately, that surgery did not control the bleeding, either. As I type, she is in a third operation to determine the source of the bleeding. Her doctors and I have agreed to transfer her by helicopter to Mercy Hospital in Des Moines to give her added care.

Sara and I appreciate your thoughts and prayers. I will post on this blog again when there is news to share.

How to explain roadkill to a three year old

Alligator Snapping Turtle (photo by Caldeira & Co)


Part of our post-church Sunday routine is a leisurely drive to Rock Creek State Park. The drive is usually serene and gets everyone (except the driver) to napland. As we crossed the bridge over the northern inlet, we came upon what we thought was a piece of driftwood. As we got, closer, I realized it was a large turtle on its back.

I stopped the van to move the turtle off of the road. As I looked for a stick in a ditch to move the turtle, the turtle moved. "Uh-oh," I thought. We called the park ranger. I hadn't tried to move it, but had positioned the van so that the turtle would not get hit a second time.

As we waited for the ranger to arrive, Slane worried about the turtle. "Will it be okay?" she asked.

Will it be okay? "No," I thought. Turtle shells are no match for truck tires. Blood was coming from its mouth. The best we could do is give it comfort in its last moments on earth.

Instead, I turned it into an object lesson about why we need to be careful crossing the street, which scared her a little.

"Will the turtle make it?" Slane asked.

"I don't think so," I answered.

The ranger arrived. He scooped the turtle, an alligator snapping turtle about the size of a medium-sized watermelon, into a box. There was a puddle of blood on the pavement. The turtle had a large crack in his shell near his right shoulder.

"He's not going to make it, is he?" I asked.

"No," the ranger answered.

"Thanks for coming to rescue him anyway," I said.

We got home and took our Sunday afternoon naps. When Slane woke up, she was unsettled.

"Are you sad about the turtle?" I asked.

"Yeah," Slane said with a sniffle and and a quiver in her voice.

An object lesson would not work this time. Instead I called on a higher power: Fancy Nancy.

"Slane, Fancy Nancy's mom talks about how big and generous Nancy's heart is, right?"

"Yeah," she answered.

"Mommy and I love how you show empathy and compassion for the people and animals in your life. You are the most compassionate, empathetic person I know. Empathy is a fancy word for caring for others.

"It's like Jonah. He needed to show compassion and mercy. Maybe Jonah could learn something from you."

Slane smiled.