Check Your Head

As with all premies, Quinn had her head checked by ultrasound the other day. Unlike the anticipated visit from the eye doctor who produces quite a scream from even the most tranquil of tots (as she pries open a baby's eyelids, then pokes and prods, and finishes up with something that looks like an electric toothbrush) -- Miss Quinn didn't even stir during the process.

Head and hair full of goo, Quinn snoozed as the technician looked for signs of intelligent life (and brain bleeds). Feigning to be a fixture in the room, I hung out to take pictures and see what it was all about. Humored by how hypnotic the ultrasound seemed to be for Quinn, I was full of jokes and smart-ass remarks... (Which quickly came back to bite me in that ever protruding body part).

Wooden faced, the technician said to me "Ok, I'm not the radiologist, but I think you'd better leave the room -- right now." Being only a week since the last time I felt my pulse ebb out of me, I blinked hard as again Quinn's fate seemed to turn with a mere moment; an audible gulp came from the nurse.

It felt like an entire lifetime passed in the silence before the technician's next words: "...Yeah, you'd better head straight to the bank and start saving up for this kid because she'll be heading to college sooner than later." Ahhhhhh...! My heart jump-started once my brain caught up with the prank.

Luckily, the ultrasound of Quinn's brain turned out fine. There was some questionable area for a brain bleed, but more than likely it's just natural brain development. If by chance it is a bleed, it is nothing to fret about. This sadly, is not the outcome for many kids.

While my sister was visiting, the kid in the next bed had much more dismal results, which are expected to manifest as problems with motor skills. The two of us felt awful that their news was less than they had hoped, and that we were fumbling around with a healthy Quinn just when they heard it.

Yesterday I again felt like I was intruding on someone's personal pain and denial as I overheard another parent yelling at her premie "You have a brain, just use it damnit!" Turns out, that child is in a vegetative state because he, in fact, does not have a brain.

Needless to say, the "bumps" in the road that Quinn has had as a premie pale in comparison to the challenges these families face. We are so lucky and grateful that our daughter is doing as well as she is, and thank each of you for your continued support and encouragement.

Much love from the mountains,
Mama Murphy