The Heldts go to the ER

Today I--and my seven children--spent the morning (and part of the afternoon) at the Children's Hospital emergency room.

Because, you know, instead of homeschooling my kids at home, we take field trips to medical establishments.

The impetus for the trip?

I got Mary Lu up this morning, just like always, only to discover that she couldn't move her right arm.

As in, it was just hanging there. 

I honestly couldn't believe it.  She'd seemed fine at bedtime!  What on earth could have happened?!

I called our doctor's office, and they told me to take her to Children's.  So after breakfast, we set off.  Sweet siblings helped Mary eat her cheerios and drink from her sippy cup, since she was only using one hand.  I love how my kiddos love each other!

Anyway, turns out it was just something called Nursemaid's Elbow, and they were able to successfully reduce it.  No big deal.  Well, except for the fact that poor Mary screamed and cried during the reduction procedure.  So hard for a mama's heart!  We also had some x-rays taken, which showed a little swelling but no fracture or break.  Whew!

This was the scene in our room.  For reals.  Because when you're two-years-old and you have six siblings, they all go with you to the hospital.  To watch movies with you and make sure you're okay.  That's just the way it is.

Oh my goodness.  These two crack.me.up.  No further words necessary.

My pediatrician actually called me as we were on our way home (while I was attempting to navigate my way through a highly disorganized McDonald's drive-thru--more on that another time, but suffice it to say my doctor probably thinks I'm a lunatic now) and told me to just call him directly on his cell if it happens again--he can fix it and save us the hospital trip.  Perfect!  So, so thankful for a wonderful doctor who cares about my kids!  (Even if he does think I'm crazy and a horrible mother for ordering my kids food at McDonald's.  :)  )

And I still don't know how it happened exactly--it's highly possible she was playing with the other kids last night and something happened then, although I think it's actually more likely that she rolled on it the wrong way in her sleep since it seemed fine as of bedtime.

Either way, I'm so glad my sweet Mary Lu Lu is okay!!!!!  Oh how I love my little Lu-bug!!!

The consult

Okay first of all, how cute are they?!  I can't think of two kids I'd rather spend my morning with.  Even if it has to be on the third floor of Children's Hospital.

On Tuesday we met with the heart surgeon who will be performing their initial heart surgeries, via catheter. 

Provided it goes well, he will fix Tigist's defect once and for all during this procedure. 

For Mekdes, it will be purely diagnostic--seeing how much pressure has built up in her lungs, and to see if she is even a candidate for open heart surgery, which she so desperately needs. 


Provided there are no complications, this should be an overnight stay for both girls, at most.  No biggie.  The surgeon seemed all confident-ish and he has a niece from Ethiopia, so he was excited to meet my daughters.

I also completed the consent portion of the proceedings--where I sat and listened to a nurse explain the risks of the procedures. 

Sigh. 

Not fun having to hear a long list of scary things, ending with "possible fatal outcomes".  I go back and forth between hopeful optimism, and thoughts like I'm so glad we had family pictures done..., between knowing that the surgeon does this particular surgery all the time, and how can I subject my sweet daughters and their most vital of organs to these awful risks?  Ack.

As for my other kids, they are rockstars.  Got up extra early, on purpose, to help out and see their sisters off.  Anna had wanted to come along again, but she's getting over a cold.  So that morning when she asked to get Mekdes dressed and I said "no, go back to sleep and get some rest!", she said very seriously "Mom, I want to do SOMEthing to help."  I'm just so proud of my oldest daughter.  No words to describe her heart.  None.

And so at 8 am that morning, the five kids gathered around their sisters as Kevin and I looked on.  So they could cheer for and hug and kiss them--sending them off with much fanfare.  For a consult. 

Be still my ever-breaking, perpetually-melting heart.  Oh, how they have fallen head-over-heels-in-love with their dear sisters.  The support and grace and love they have shown is incredible.  And I would not even have believed it possible were I not witnessing it with my very own (teary!) eyes.

New miracles, in my house.

Every.single.day.

And Mekdes?  Still the bravest girl in the whole-wide-world.  A consult with a heart surgeon at the hospital?  No big deal.  I'm just gonna hang out with my mom and sister and smile really big.

And sing my ABCs.  (I like to cheer for myself when I'm done, because I'm awesome.)

As for Tigist?  Well, do you see that face?  Um, yeah.  So happy.  So sweet.  (And so cute that I'll forgive her for pooping while I was talking to the Very Important Heart Surgeon.  Come to think of it, I've never had a heart surgeon watch me change a poopy diaper before Tuesday.  Kind of exciting.)

She also spent time cleaning the wall.  Because she's kind of a big deal like that.

And looking at books with her sister.  About a creepy version of Santa Claus. 


A scheduler will call in a few days to set up the surgeries, which cannot be done until the girls have successfully conquered giardia.  (At which time there will be much rejoicing, and I may even throw a party to celebrate.  So.not.joking.)  Which means we're probably three to four weeks out or so.

I want to thank you all from the bottom of my heart for reading along and for your prayers and encouragement!  I'll let you know once the surgeries are scheduled.  And in the meantime, let me just say that life is sweet, each and every moment is so precious, and my daughters are doing really, really well. 

Miracles, I tell you. 

How do you do it: 5 kids at a well-check

I get asked a lot how I manage various aspects of having five small-ish children.  The honest answer is, I-don't-know, and not-always-very-well.  The other just-as-honest part of my answer is, some things about having five kids so close in age are actually easy.  I'm not gonna lie.  When I say this most people either a) don't believe me, or b) want to canonize me for sainthood.  

That being said...

Some things are NOT as easy. 

Part of our adoption homestudy stipulated every single person in our family have a medical.

Eesh.

All of my kids were due for theirs, so a couple of months ago, I made the appointments.  Which would all fall on the same day.  Two kids in the morning, an hour-and-a-half break for lunch, and two kids in the afternoon.  (Mary had just had one of her baby well-checks the week before so she was simply along for the ride.  She likes being included like that.)

We showed up to the office bright and early, me and my brood.  Anna and Kaitlyn, pictured up at the top in their paper gowns (that they think are sooooo cool), were first. 

There is a lot of waiting at the doctor's office.  Lots and lots of waiting.  Thankfully there was a basket of books in our room.

Mary likes to spread out on the floor.  She had a blast crawling around.

Ideally they would also include long chapter books in the waiting room, because Anna polished off the basket's contents in about fifteen minutes.

Kaitlyn loved looking at books with Mary Lu. 

Now the girls' physicals themselves went just fine.  No issues.  No big deal.  Except, you know, the doctor (NOT our actual pediatrician who we {love} but the doctor who happened to be in that day) now probably thinks something is wrong with Kaitlyn's cognitive abilities.  She WOULD NOT make eye contact with him.  Or speak to him.  Wouldn't answer his questions.  Could not be coerced into hopping like a bunny, or telling him who she likes to play with.  Nothing.  "Does she talk at home?" he asked in a concerned voice.

Yes, she talks at home.

All.the.time.

Then, when he was attempting to get a reflex by tapping her knee with his happy little knee-tapper, well, he couldn't get one.  Oh how he tried.  Tap, tap.  Nothing.  Tap, tap, tap.  Still nothing.  He picked up a much heavier medical object and tried it again.  NOTHING.  It was at this point that he started LAUGHING.  "I don't believe it," he said.  "I've never had a child so young do this before!"

Awesome.

SO, he had her clasp her hands together (for some unknown reason she decided to comply.)  He tapped her knee again.  Sure enough, the reflex came.  Because she'd been clasping her hands, and therefore was unable to willfully block the reflex.

Yes folks, my THREE YEAR OLD DAUGHTER was so extremely stubborn that she refused to do the reflext test.  Oh, my.

LUNCH!!!!! 

Oh how happy I was to get out of that office, if even for a mere 90 minutes.  After the knee-jerk fiasco, I was done.  Cooked.  Exhausted.  Amused, yes--don't get me wrong, it was all pretty hilarious, and really where would I be without my sense of humor--but exhausted.  And if you can't tell by the picture, we utilized Taco Bell for our mid-day meal.  We're a real class act, I tell you.  But don't underestimate my sense of accomplishment upon our arrival.  Because my GPS, which I SWEAR has a personal vendetta against me based on the fact that it regularly gives me directions to deserted strip-malls filled with empty warehouses, steered me wrong AND I ended up going the wrong way down a one-way city street.  (That, however, was not the GPS' fault.  That was just me being an idiot.)

{Oh and did you see my swagger wagon in the picture?  It's like it's part of the family or something, posing with the kids for the camera!}

The kids all LOVED dining where I used to work at what I affectionally refer to as T-Bell, and the cashier thought they were all so cute that she gave them free kids' meal toys--you can see Mary with hers.  I think she's rather pleased.

After we got our fill of cleavage-baring 3-D comic book characters on the kids' meal toys burritos and cinnamon twists, we returned to the doctor's office for Yosef and Biniam's appointments.  Where the doctor wouldn't really believe me that Biniam has ADHD.  (It was at this point that I was regretting choosing fast appointments over our regular doctor.  He would have actually listened to me.  He would also have built better rapport with Kaitlyn.  Maybe.)  Of course all the while Biniam is performing strange physical feats and running around in his camoflauge undies with his tongue hanging out.  Riiiiiiight.  He's just a typical five year old boy.  Who can't ever find his shoes and gets distracted at the drop of a hat and blurts things out without thinking and doesn't even know why.  Uh huh.  Sure.

FINALLY...at 3:15 pm...we left the office for good.  We'd shown up at 9:30 that morning.  And so we were tired.  Bedraggled.  Grumpy.  It was upon walking in the door at home that I received the phone call saying we could not adopt the children we thought we were adopting.  You know, the whole reason for the physicals.

Sweet.

So.  How do I do it?  How do I manage five kids at a doctor's appointment?  Oh, you didn't read earlier? 

I don't know.

Not always very well.

I'm not going to say it's easy though.  Do-able, yes.  Exciting, always.  Worth it just to see Kaitlyn spiting the doctor, absolutely.

See, these are the adventures of being an at-home-mom-to-many.  If you have one sweet little cherub that you pamper and coo at after he/she gets his/her shots, right before you tote him/her over to Whole Foods for your organic wheatberries, well, I hope you enjoyed this glimpse into my day at the doctor's office--FYI, no time for tears around here when my kids get poked with a needle.  There's just too darn many of 'em.  But don't worry, they buck right up. 

Because they know we're going to Taco Bell afterwards.

That, friends, is how I do it.