It's crazy how fast things can go from being perfectly normal to absolutely awful. Thank goodness for modern medicine.
After about two and a half weeks we felt good about going on a little outing together. First to the Seven Peaks North Pole with my sisters and their families followed by our ward Christmas party. On the short drive home, Atticus screamed like we had never heard. After feeding him once we got home, he almost immediately threw up
(what seemed like his entire dinner). I was a little worried with the amount that came up but brushed it off thinking we were just being overly concerned about a completely normal thing. Babies spit up and since he had just gulped in a bunch of air it made sense.
The next morning after eating, he threw up again. Twice. The panic set in as I called my sister to see what she thought. Shoot did we take him out too early? Did he pick up a stomach bug? Well the rest of the day he seemed perfectly fine, just some minimal spit up later that afternoon. My sister who recently had her third child, expressed my niece did the same thing but it eventually went away. She said originally she was certain her baby had "pyloric stenosis" but later discovered that was not the case. Never had I heard of that before so I googled around and quickly disregarded it thinking I was just being an anxious new mom. Everything I read said spit up was normal and that it looks like more is coming up than actually is. If the baby was continuing to have plenty of dirty diapers each day there was nothing to be worried about. Despite feeling like something was off, we decided that burping him better and keeping him upright for longer after feeds would help.
Over the following two days the throw up continued and increased in frequency each day. I spent hours researching different possibilities. We spoke twice over the phone with the pediatric nurse
(on call) who didn't seem alarmed in the slightest. Tuesday after spending a majority of the night up with him
(he'd eat, throw up, act hungry... then repeat) we made an appointment the next morning to have him checked out. Since our doctor wasn't available we met with the PA. After checking Atticus' and listening to me recount the past few days his diagnosis was reflux. Gave him a prescription for a liquid antacid and I was looking forward to seeing improvement.
Well quite the opposite happened. He began to throw up within 30 seconds after EVERY feed. The medication seemed to be doing nothing. Thursday, same story. He was not keeping milk down and his diapers went from an average of seven down to only two
(those of which were barely wet). It got to the point where I was able to catch his vomit in a cup each time. He was throwing up anywhere from 2-4 oz. every time; which for a three week old is basically everything. Reflux didn't seem to be the problem and he didn't have a fever. Not to mention he wasn't even fussy
(he would be smiling after). Just showed signs of hunger immediately after.
No way things were "normal." That night after much tears of frustration and worry, I found myself reading more about pyloric stenosis. The symptoms fit along almost exactly with what we had been experiencing all week. Perhaps it was mothers intuition but that moment I knew that's what it was. First thing the next morning Tanner was able to get us in to see our pediatrician around 4 pm that afternoon. We wanted him to be tested for pyloric stenosis.
Met with the doctor. Explained the events of the week and discovered his weight had dropped
(which hadn't happened his entire life) the first thing the doctor said was, "this sounds like something called pyloric stenosis." Right away we were sent to the lab to be tested and instructed to give him 2 oz of pedialyte to help keep him hydrated
(he instantly threw it all up) until we had more information. Within that hour we got a phone call from the doctor instructing us to head to the hospital right away. We were terrified but finally it felt like we were going to find out what was wrong and how to fix it.
Pyloric stenosis is a progressive narrowing of the pylorous, the lower part of the stomach through which food passes through into the intestine
(you can read more about it here). The muscles in the pylorous become enlarged to the point where nothing can get through. Turns out this condition most commonly happens to infants 3-6 weeks old, first born males with a Scandinavian background. His odds were not very good.
We checked into Utah Valley Regional Medical center around 8 pm Friday. He was immediately weighed, down to 9 lbs
(within a couple of days he had lost 15 oz and was under his original birth weight). First thing first was to get him on an IV to keep him hydrated. Since his veins were already small due to his age and his severe dehydration, it took an hour and a half and 6 times of pricking
(2 times in each arm, 1 in the head, and finally 1 in his foot) before they could get the IV in without a vein bursting. The nurses said his blood was thick as syrup. No wonder, that kid hadn't been able to keep anything down for the past 3 days. That has to be one of the most difficult things I have
ever experienced. There was nothing either Tanner or myself could do. No one prepared me for how difficult it would be to watch your own child hurting. At one point his little eyes looked over at me as if to say, "Mom, please. Help me." My heart just broke
(and still breaks just thinking about). I was humbled as it gave me a little glimpse into what our Heavenly Father feels for us, his children.
After consulting with the hospital pediatrician, all signs pointed to pyloric but tests needed to be done to confirm before they could move forward. Around midnight we were wheeled down
(they let me hold him as they pushed us in a wheel chair) to have an ultrasound taken of his stomach. He was given a bottle of sugar water to drink so they could see if anything was making its way through into the intestine. Of course, he threw it all up. An hour or so later we were informed they did see some fluid had gotten through. It was a possibility that this would eventually turn into pyloric stenosis but results showed it wasn't quite there yet. The problem was, there was no way of determining when that might happen. It could be overnight, in a few days or maybe even a week+. Until then, Atti would need to stay in the hospital on an IV. Very, very discouraging. I felt we were so close but it looked like we'd be waiting a bit longer.
In the morning, our friends came over to drop off some breakfast and were able to help Tanner give Atticus a blessing. As worried as we were, I was comforted that things were gonna be okay. We just needed to be patient. A team of doctors, nurses, and students all met together with us to discuss the options and how best to move forward. It wasn't uncommon for the ultrasound to come back negative but an upper GI test to have a positive result. At noon, again we were wheeled down to have the x-ray taken. Only one of us was allowed to be in the room when Atticus' drank the barium
(a chalky, white substance) to follow the flow of liquid inside him. As usual he threw everything up but had to stay put until the x-ray was done. Poor guy was covered in barium by the end. We anxiously waited for the results. POSITIVE. Atticus had pyloric stenosis. What a relief that it had manifested itself practically overnight! Then the realization set in of our little baby having to undergo surgery.
Again we were faced with some very unpleasant news. Since it was the weekend, they were understaffed and a surgeon most likely wouldn't be available until Sunday or even Monday. What?! No! I couldn't bare to see my baby without food for any longer. Sure the IV kept him alive but it was the worst thing to see him constantly rooting and licking his lips. The kid was starving. By some miracle, they got a surgeon from Primary Children's to come down and he was taken in for surgery an hour later. The procedure, pylormyotomy, is low risk with just three small incisions
(one in the belly button and two others on the side). It was really hard to let him be wheeled away in his little bed. He was only gone about an hour...for a worried mom
(& dad) it felt like much, much longer.
I am thankful to report the surgery went extremely well, without any complications
(they even drew a little gingerbread man on his bandage).
I wouldn't wish this on anyone. One of the nights as I sat awake with Atticus, I began to think about what was happening and how I was feeling. I couldn't help but think of Heavenly Father looking down on his children. Watching us suffer from maybe physical pains or even emotional hardships. I was reminded of a quote by President Uchtdorf, "Think of the purest, most all-consuming love you can imagine. Now multiply that love by an infinite amount--that is the measure of God's love." I love my little Atticus in a way I never knew I would. To think God feels this love that I do but it's multiplied by an infinite amount? Not only his is love infinite, he sent HIS son to die for the rest of his children. Only now can I barely begin to comprehend what God must feel. Sitting in that hospital room, I knew God loved me and that he loved Atticus. It truly was a humbling experience for me as a parent.
We had to wait about three-ish hours or so before feeding him clear liquids through a bottle. Over the course of the rest of the day and into Sunday, he kept multiple feedings down of the pedialyte. Next step he got approved to try breast-milk through a bottle. Again success! Within 24 hours after his surgery he was back to breastfeeding. After much prayers, we were released from the hospital Sunday afternoon.
I am thankful for the pediatrician who took his time to listen to us
(as new parents) and did not quickly brush our worries aside. I am thankful for modern medicine that made a life threatening condition, not so life threatening
(and fixable for that matter). I am grateful for my Heavenly Father for the comfort he provided me in such a hard situation. I am thankful for MANY tender mercies that happened during this experience. Things worked out ideally well considering the circumstances and what could have been. I'm grateful for family and friends who were so quick to serve and pray for us. I am thankful for the spirit in allowing us to recognize the problem
(especially earlier on). I am thankful for my husband and being there together for Atticus.
As traumatic as it felt, he probably will not have any memory of this. For that I am thankful. Please Atticus, no more hospital visits. Okay?
P.S. His recovery couldn't have gone any better. He had the occasional throw up for the couple days after (totally normal). It eventually faded away and is now the "normal" baby spit up. At his 2 week post surgery check-up, the bandages were removed and his incisions are barely noticeable.
