Happy New Year

It being New Year's and all seems to have many writing about their accomplishments or lack there of lately. It has me thinking about the last year for me. On the outside, I feel like I haven't done much, but when I am really honest there a few things that I did get done.

I went back to work, granted it is only part time, but I did it. That was no small feat. After being home for 18 months, it was hard to transition back to the work world. I started this job with no confidence and not sure what I had to offer. I still don't think my work is 100%, but I am doing my best with all of the drama and baggage that keeps weighing me down. When I wrote my resume, my previous work experience seemed irrelevant. I am not that girl anymore, but I couldn't seem to find a space to explain what I have learned from my baby dying. After 9 months back at work, I actually like going. It is a few hours of peace and quiet. I don't have to discuss my personal life with anyone if I don't want to and it has been good therapy. I actually have sent my resume in for a full time position. We will see what happens.

I put Monkey in daycare. For most, this is not an accomplishment, but for me it is huge. Leaving my only living, breathing child with someone not related to me is the scariest thing I have ever done. It is relinquishing control and that is not my strong suit. I still don't like it, but he seems to enjoy the social interaction and I keep telling myself it is only 1/2 day. If I should land the above mentioned job, we will tackle full time daycare then.

I have survived 9 months on my own. I have never lived on my own or had to be responsible for another human being by myself. It has been the hardest 9 months in someways, but in others I feel more confident and less dependant knowing I can do this. I am self sufficient. Monkey and I are a great team and we are making this work.

In the next year, I hope to achieve many things. I don't want to make resolutions because it is disappointing when you fail to achieve them. I really just want to start the new year with a change in attitude. I am ready to start living. I want to enjoy the many things I have to be grateful for. I know I will have days that the grief kicks me in the ass, but I have decided that is okay. I am not going to fight it anymore. I am just going to welcome it like an old friend. Those moments will offer me time to reflect on Noah and my former life. I am going to learn from my mistakes and stop living in fear. This year, I will act on what inspires me. I will seek out people who make me feel good and I will give back in honor in all of those who helped me in the darkest of times. Most of all, this year, I will be happy.

I wish everyone a wonderful New Year and hope that all of us baby lost mama's can find our way on this journey to find ourselves and happiness.

Show and Tell

Thanks to Cara for this post. This crystal turtle is the gift I am most grateful for. It was given to me by my brother and sister-in-law. It brought me to tears to have them remember Noah. The quote is quite fitting for my current situation and my new goals for the new year.

Make Each Day Count

The race in life is not how fast

you travel on your way,

For like the turtle, you can win

By savoring each day.

At the end of the road

I think back to a year ago and I don't recognize that life. The only parts that are still the same is my grief for Noah and my love of both of my boys. I actually thought M and I were going to figure this losing a baby thing out. I thought we were going to try to have more children. I stopped the pill. I had the pregnancy tests in the cabinet. I with all of my heart thought we would have another baby. I thought I would be pregnant now, not alone and heartbroken.

He says he wants to work it out. I don't know if I believe him. He is so mean and unloving when I talk to him. He crushes my spirit when I am with him. I am trying so hard to find myself. I want to figure out who I am now. I have to be more than this. I am lonely, sad, and so very angry. How do you rise above that? I know he is struggling with his own demons, but at some point it comes down to what you choose. He has committed to marriage counseling and spending more time at home. We will see how it goes. I am not getting my hopes up.

I have set some lofty goals for the new year. I want to get healthy, both mentally and physically. I want to find my faith in whatever form that speaks to me. It may be church or it may be the peaceful quiet of the morning. I will find a way to make Noah's life matter. He was put here to teach me and I need to share what I have learned. I don't know exactly how, but I have a few ideas. I just pray that I have the endurance and the tenacity to see this through. I refuse to give in to being sad and depressed. I want both of my sons to be proud of their Mama. I am not a quitter and I want them to know it is okay to stare down adversity and follow their hearts. Whether M and I end up together, I still want these things.

Right now, I need some faith in myself. I am strong. I can do this. No matter, how hopeless I my feel today, I will not quit. I will find happiness, it is at the end of a very long, dark road. I just have to look up and follow the subtle signs along the way. Eventually, I will find the end.

Merry Christmas!

Monkey and Noah 2006

I'll be dreaming of my little elves this Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

Let it go

I am not a big country music fan, but I heard this song today as I flipped through the radio stations on my way home from work. Maybe it should be my new anthem as I start a new year. The words brought me to tears because I do stand at a crossroads and I am searching to find what happens next in my life. I have decided I get to decide this time. It is time to take control and stop just letting life happen to me. I need to stand tall and let the past be the past. I know that I will never stop grieving for Noah, but I have to forgive myself for how it ended. I made a choice. That is it.

Let it Go-Tim McGraw

I've been caught sideways out here on the crossroads

Trying to buy back the pieces I lost of my soul

It's hard when the devil won't get off your back

It's like carrying around the past in a hundred pound sack[

Today I'm gonna keep on walking

I'm gonna hold my head up high

I'm gonna leave it all behind

Today I'm gonna stand out in the rain

Let it wash it all away

Yeah wash it all away

I'm gonna let it go

Oh yeah I'm gonna let it go Oh yeah

Skeletons and Ghosts are hiding in the shadows

Threatening me with all the things that they know

Choices and mistakes, they all know my name

But I'm through holding in and holding onto all that pain

I know I know I know I've been forgiven

I know I know I know I'm gonna start living

Memorial

Noah's memorial service was two years ago. It was held in the church in which M and I were married. He deserved to have it held in a church, regardless of my failing relationship with God. The chaplain who baptized him and Monkey at he hospital performed the ceremony. It seemed fitting as he was the only minister who had ever known Noah.

I truly don't remember much of the service. Monkey, only 3 months old, lay asleep on my shoulder through the entire thing. I had been worried that he would cry and fuss, but Noah must have told him to sleep. I held on tight to him, hoping Noah could feel my love.

We played a slide show of photos given to us by the photographer with Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep. These photos take my breath away they are so beautiful and I wanted to share them with all who knew Noah. We also read his favorite book, Rainbow Rob. Noah used to look at the pictures and try with all his might to touch the pages. The book is about being different and accepting yourself, so fitting for my special boy. We ended the ceremony with a PowerPoint of photos and the song Hello, Goodbye. My sister in law found that song for us. She remembered it from years earlier, but hadn't realized the name in it was Noah. It was perfect.

Noah's ashes are buried in our local cemetery. We had a very short graveside service. It was so cold, much like today. I remember my Dad holding Monkey close wrapped in a blanket to keep him warm. What it must have been like to watch your baby bury her baby? My father is the strong, silent type who is your rock in a crisis. I remember is work worn hands holding my delicate child. I can still see the orchids that someone left at the burial site. They were beautiful.

My parents held a reception following the service at their home. The house was filled with friends and family. We had set out pictures and photo albums of Noah's life. So many never had the chance to meet Noah due to his medical issues. I remember feeling like I had to entertain and visit with each person. It was very surreal. I look back and it is like I was floating through a dream.

In all of the things related to Noah, I don't have any regrets about his memorial service. I wanted it to be perfect and it turned out just as I had wanted. It was a fitting tribute.

Missed Chance

Five days passed between Noah's death and his memorial service. I don't remember much of that time. I was still in shock and just too tired. It all feels like a dream, excluding a few parts. Noah passed early on Sunday morning. Someone got us to sign off on an autopsy so his body was sent to a town a few hours away. I really try not to think to much of this because it makes me sick now when I think about it. They had to take him elsewhere in order to do the genetic testing. At the time, I thought I wanted this. I so desperately wanted to know what caused all of Noah's problems. In the end, the testing wasn't done because the cells didn't grow that they needed. So I guess we will never really know.

Two years ago tonight, I visited the funeral home for the last time. Noah had been brought back. The director asked if I wanted to see him before he was cremated. My insides were screaming yes and my mind said no. I told him no. What kind of mother am I to not want to see her baby again? I was just so afraid that I wouldn't be able to leave. Leaving the hospital was the hardest thing I have ever done. I didn't have the strength to leave my baby one more time. I regret that decision now. I think I was afraid to know what he would look like following the autopsy. I was scared. I would give anything now to have seen him one more time. A chance to see his angelic face, his long, delicate fingers, and those bow lips. I know he wouldn't have looked like my Noah, but it would have been a chance. I have always had issues with viewings at funeral. The image sticks with me and I see that when I think of the person. I want to remember him alive. I guess I am still torn on the matter.

Noah was cremated that night. My stomach turns when I think about it. I know it is just a shell, but that was my baby. They asked if we wanted his clothes and his blanket back. I remember thinking that he needed his clothes so I asked that he be wearing his striped sleeper. Why did he need clothes? I was just so irrational at the time. I will admit, I found that same sleeper on ebay and impulsively bought it one day. When it arrived, I realized I was simply reaching for something to remind me of him. I did ask for his blanket back. I wanted something to hold. I wanted to smell his sweet smell. When they returned it, I buried my face in the blanket only to be met with the smell of smoke. Cigarette smoke. I just collapsed and cried. My last chance to inhale him and some asshole had to take his smoke break around my lifeless son. I know it is just a blanket, but that feeling was devastating. I desperately needed something to hold onto that was his. When we returned home, my mother in law washed it in the baby detergent and returned it to me. Sometimes, I still sleep with that blanket. I just hold it and remember my boy wrapped up.

The decision of whether or not to see Noah one last time still haunts me. I did what I felt I had the strength for at the time, but I missed my last chance to see him. I may always regret that choice, but I guess I must forgive myself. He wasn't actually there anyway. Just a shell, not his soul.

Noah

Hello, Goodbye

Where is the navigator of your destiny
Where is the dealer of this hand
Who can explain life and its brevity
‘Cause there is nothing here that I can understand
You and I have barely met and I just don’t want to let go of you yet

Noah, hello, goodbye
I’ll see you on the other side
Noah, sweet child of mine
I’ll see you on the other side

And so I hold you tiny hand in mine
For the hardest thing I’ve ever had to face
Heaven calls for you before it calls for me
When you get there save me a place
A place where I can share your smile
And I can hold you for more than just awhile

-Michael W. Smith

Dear Noah,

Two years passed since I have held you in my arms. They ache to hold you. I close my eyes and I can feel you. I can smell your sweet, baby smell. I can see your bright blue eyes looking up at me. I miss you.

I am so proud of you. When I pause or hesitate to mention you, it is not because I am not proud. It is because not everyone is worthy of you. I hope you understand that sometimes your Mama simply cannot take the barrage of questions or the uncomfortable silence. Even when I do not speak your name, you are always in my heart. My love is always there. It is the constant in this crazy world.

Monkey misses you. He loves your sweet angel kisses. I know you visit him in his dreams. I can see that little smile creep across his face as if you are telling him secrets. Please watch over him. Give him strength and love so he can navigate this world. I know the two of you are meant to be together and one day you will again. Your bond transcends time and space. It will always be. The love of brothers especially twin brothers is unbreakable. Monkey will always hold you in his heart. As he grows, allow him to find his way and to make peace with the space your death made in his heart. Help him be whole even when a part of him is missing.

Please know that your Daddy and I love you with all of our hearts. I know he misses you terribly and struggles to find a way to deal with losing such a huge piece of his life. Daddy's want to protect and he couldn't protect you. Give him strength to know he did all anyone could have. He used to lay on the floor in your room and just watch you sleep. He missed you while he was away at work and needed that time to just drink you in. You were your Daddy. Same blue eyes and blond hair. You would have looked just like him. We used to say you took after him and Monkey after me. It is hard for a Daddy to lose his boy.

Noah, I am so sorry for all I couldn't do for you. I am sorry my body let you down. I am sorry I struggled to connect with you in those early days. I was so afraid of hurting you more that I already had. I found my place with you though. It was with you curled up on my chest, sleeping peacefully. I could take in all of you in. Your sweet, soft cheeks against mine, breathing peacefully. Once we finally got home, I cherished our afternoon naps and our cuddle sessions. I am sorry I got you sick. I wasn't ready to let you go. Please forgive me for making you stay if you were ready. I needed more time. We did our best to care for you. I hope you knew how much we loved you and still love you. I wish I could take a snapshot of all your moments. It was so fast. We tried to fill a lifetime into 3 months.

Noah, you are such an amazing child. You defied the odds and survived 3 wonderful months. When they said that you couldn't understand, you proved that you did. The first time I saw you turn your head to my voice, you showed you knew me. You taught me the meaning of unconditional love and not to take a moment for granted. Life is precious. You are a miracle and I thank God everyday that you were in our lives.

Please come visit me from time to time. I know you are busy playing, but take a moment every now and then and let me know you are okay.

You will be in my heart forever. I love you.

Mama

Tonight

Two years ago, I carried my baby through the doors of the ER looking for a miracle. The apnea spells were increasing and his cold seemed to have settled in his chest. I don't know what made me decide it was time to go. Nothing alarming had happened. I just had a feeling. Little did I know then, what that feeling was trying to tell me. I look back and at the time, I just couldn't see it. I did not want to see his declining health. Looking at his last picture, I can see it in his face.

Earlier in the day, M and I had run a few errands. I remember standing in line at the store and I told him I was scared for Noah. Did I know? We shrugged it off and resumed our "everything will be okay" attitude. We had trained ourselves to push the fear aside so that we could take in every moment of Noah's life. Fear is crippling and there was not time between feedings, meds, and chirping alarms for fear.

When we got to the ER, the doctor told us we had done a good job with him. Was he trying to tell me that this was it? He never actually said that there was nothing else to do. The nurses began running test for RSV and Influenza. They never could get an IV started. Noah was so dehydrated that they couldn't find a vein. The nurse from pediatrics came down to try to put an IV in his head. She couldn't get it. They just told us they would get it later.

It took hours before we were taken upstairs to pediatrics. During that time, he had several apnea spells and remembering thinking that the nurses weren't rushing to help. I was still holding him, stimulating him to breath. I remember changing his diaper and he had just a small amount of diarrhea. I now know that his body was shutting down. They did a chest x-ray and it confirmed that he had pneumonia.

I was scared while in the ER, but defiant that my child was dying. Apparently, they did not want to break that news to us, so they let us believe that he would be okay. I had packed for the hospital like we would stay for awhile. I brought extra clothes and blankets. I had packed formula and all his meds. I was prepared to fight for the long haul. Noah was trying to tell me and I just couldn't give up.

Upon our arrival to the pediatric floor, the apnea continued. I don't know how long it was, maybe 30 minutes to an hour, and they couldn't revive him. I remember standing next to the crib, watching the respiratory therapist bag him. The nurses asked if we wanted to call our family. I was in shock. It wasn't really happening. I honestly for a brief moment did not understand that I was losing my sweet boy. Someone called our families and our pediatrician. They continued to bag Noah and I can still feel how hard his belly became from the air. I remember watching, knowing they should stop, but I just couldn't bring myself to say the words. Our pediatrician arrived and very gently told us it was time. They stopped bagging, removed the NG tube that had supplied his nutrition his whole life, and handed him to me. I sat in the rocking chair and just held him. M and I huddled over him, never taking our eyes from him. I was so afraid to miss a moment. I remember feeling like my insides were being ripped from me as he went away. His perfect bow lips became dark and his body cold. I kept wrapping him in his favorite blanket as if I could warm his body.

At 3:22 A.M. Noah lost his fight. I don't remember how long I held him. Eventually, everyone took a turn holding him and saying goodbye. Everyone, but Monkey. Monkey was not there when Noah died. He was home in bed. I wonder if he knew his life would change forever that night. We bathed Noah and dressed him in green striped pajamas with a giraffe on them. I swaddled him in his blue, star blanket and said goodbye.

I don't remember many details after that. Maybe is was from being tired or just the shock of it all. A piece of me died that night with Noah. The void in my heart is gaping and nothing can possibly fill it in. My whole world and everything I believed in came crashing down with his last breath. Here I am two years later, still standing in disbelief that my baby is gone. I continue to live to honor him, but it is no less painful and I am still searching for a reason. I have to believe that Noah is whole and healthy dancing in heaven or wherever we will meet again. We will meet again. One day, I will hold my son in my arms and do all of the things that were never possible for us.

Noah, I love you and miss you. You are always in my heart because you are apart of me.

Noah Michael

9/18/06 - 12/17/06

3 days

I want to go to sleep and not wake up til New Year's. I don't know how to face the next few days. My mind is tortured and my soul cannot find any peace. I look at Monkey and just want to bawl. It is an overwhelming mix of love, sadness, anger, and fear. I see him and I see his brother. I see what is missing. I just hold him close and try to feel Noah through him.

It hurts. I am drowning in this grief. I begin to think I can do this and it overtakes me again. This is just so unbearable. Part of me wants to deaden the pain, but maybe this pain is how I feel him. Maybe he will be closer to me if it hurts more. I just want him here with me.

I miss my baby.

4 Days

I have four more days. Well, actually less than 4 days. Noah died at 3:22 A.M. so the actual time usually sneaks up on me. I still don't know what to do. How do I honor my missing son who I miss so much? All just doesn't seem enough. I am tormented with this need to do something in his honor, but I am frozen without any good ideas.

Today is the day that would have been Noah's surgery to place his Mic-Key button. It is the surgery that would have killed him had we gone through with it.

Today is the day that my attempt to save my child may have killed him. Two years ago today, he had an apnea spell. All of my usual efforts did not revive him. I was sick with a cold. I really did think about it, but I didn't see any other option. I began breathing into his mouth. After two breaths, the color returned and he began breathing on his own. I remember collapsing on the floor knowing what could have been. I remember thinking so many disorganized thoughts. I wondered whether I should call an ambulance. We had a DNR so they would not do anything. I found my camera and took a picture of him thinking this could be my last. Today is the day that I finally called hospice. I finally knew that I couldn't do this alone. The almost death of my son was the most frightening thing I had experienced up to that time and I didn 't know if I could handle it if I was alone with both babies.

My sweet Noah. I tried to do my best. I wanted to give you every chance at life. I will never know if it is because of this day that you had to leave us. I am sorry. I just wanted so badly for you to live one more day. I just wasn't ready to say goodbye. I love you with all my heart.

Bad Day

It has been one horrible day. Monkey didn 't want to go to daycare this morning and let me know is full displeasure. I finally get him unwrapped from my leg to get to work only to have my babysitter call 30 minutes later telling me that he had an accident. What the hell? I am sure that my stomach dropped to my feet as a pictured all of the horrible things that could have happened. Doesn't she know better than to be dramatic unless it really is dramatic? He face planted into the frame of the couch and bit through his lip. It bled. It bled a lot. By the time I got there, he looked as if he had been in a fight and he definitely did not win. Fortunately, once the bleeding stopped, it didn't look so bad. In the end he was actually excited because he got to go to Papa's (his favorite place one Earth) and eat ice cream. I think he may have an escape plan now.



M came over this afternoon. He has offered to see another marriage counselor. I don't know if I have this in me anymore. He has broken every promise and vow he ever took. I don't know how to forgive that. He has hurt me and I just don't know if the damage is repairable. I just want to wake up from this fucking bad dream and it all be over. I just can't do this anymore. I am a wreck and he is just such an ass sometimes. I am so angry. He asked how I can think of divorce during "Noah's time". What the fuck? He is the one who has no respect or care for anyone else. I am dying as I sit here remembering that I now only had 7 days with him. That two years ago today, the apnea spells started. This was the beginning of the end.



7 days. I can't do this. Why is this still so hard? I know he is gone and I can't change it. Why is the hurt so much deeper and the anger still growing? I am alone and drowning in this pain.



It is just a bad day. Please tell me tomorrow will be better.

Who I am?

I look in the mirror and don't really recognize the person looking back at me. She looks familiar, but I can't quite place where I know her from.


I close my eyes and I can see the girl I used be. A little tomboyish and girly all at once. I was athletic and confident. I wasn't beautiful, yet was pretty. I was smart, controlled, and seemed to have it all together.


Growing up I always had a plan. I would go to college, get married, have kids, and live happily ever after. I did the first three. How did I go so wrong with the happily ever after part? Where in my plan was having my baby die and my marriage fall apart? I don't remember ever including that one. So much for the plan.

I don't want to wallow in self pity. I just don't know how to look in the mirror and see me. More importantly, how do I look in the mirror and like what I see? If grief is a journey, then I am totally lost.

I realized the other day that I don't even know what I like. I look around my house and it is furnished in a masculine way that my husband liked. Do I even like these things? My husband was a big Dave Matthews Band fan in college. I became a fan. Do I even like the music or did I just love the experience of the summer night air and the exhilaration of the concert with him by my side?

I look at myself and see a weak, scared person. As I became an adult, life just chipped away at my confidence. I know that I constantly beat myself up for all that has happened to me. I know that I couldn't have controlled what happened. I know that it is not all my fault. That is huge for me. It is not my fault. Maybe that should be my new mantra. Truthfully, my problems in my marriage are partly my fault, but the current situation is not. I did not make those decisions, he did. I have stayed and tried to save my marriage, but if it doesn't work, I can't beat myself up. I tried. I am a perfectionist by nature or maybe I'm not. Maybe, I just have an intense fear of disappointing the people I love.

It seems that I can never live up to anyone's standards. I have failed at almost everything I have done. I settled for a degree that I didn't want. I don't want to be a teacher, yet I have my degree in education. I have worked a series of jobs, that I have no passion for. They are a means to an ends. I don't know where my passion lies. The only thing that fires me up is taking care of my children. Where do I go from here?

I looked in the mirror and all I saw is a run down, fat girl. She is scared and has a hard time looking herself in the eye. I am so scared that others won't accept me, but really I can't accept myself. I don't know how. I want to be able to tell myself that it is okay to be lost.

I hope one day to look in the mirror and see a girl who is out to conquer the world. I want to smile and truly feel happy. I want to immerse myself in life and not question my every move. I want to follow my heart and not let my perceived expectations of others drive my actions. I want to live for me. I want to be a better me so I can be a better mama. I want Monkey to embrace life, not hide in fear of failure. I am going to start one small step at a time.
How do I get it back?

8 days

If I close my eyes, I can feel him. Just for a fleeting second, his soft skin against mine. I can see his huge blue eyes looking into my soul. I can smell his sweet baby smell after a bath.

My arms ache to hold him. I miss him so much. How has two years passed without him?

I love you Noah.

12 Days of Noah

12 days. That is how many more days I will torture myself until THE DAY. What do I call the day? Noah's day? Noah's day should be happy and full of good memories, not memories of his last breaths and sweet cuddles. I have heard people call it an angelversary. Honestly, that makes me want to throw up. So what is it? I don't have a word for it. It is the day that my entire life was ripped apart and I lost my sweet boy. It is a day of the year that I dread and once it is here, I will feel I didn't do enough to honor him. Do I go to work? Monkey has an EI appointment that day. Do we attend? Is it dishonoring him to carry on like any other day?

Last year, we took Monkey to breakfast, toys to the hospital, and out to see Noah at the cemetery. After that, I decided we would Christmas shop because I just couldn't be sad. Last year I had M to hold my hand.

This year, I will go to work because I am out of sick time due to Monkey being sick. They don't have a leave for the anniversary that your baby died. I don't have the energy to ask for the day and have to explain why. I don't really talk about my personal life at work and don't plan on starting now. So, I will go. I will then pick Monkey up from daycare and take him to visit his brother. It is cold, so the visit will be short and I will sit there in silence wondering why I don't feel closer to him in the place his remains lay. I will look for words to convey my love and grief, but they will never be enough. I will then go home to sit and feel guilty that I didn't do something better to honor him.

I have ideas of things to do, but none are really good enough. I did buy an angel memorial ornament for the Memory Tree at Hospice. Maybe I should brave the store and take toys to the hospital. I could bake cookies and deliver them to my favorite nurses. Maybe I will finally watch the video I have from Noah's life. I have never watched it and am not sure I can. I could light a candle and say a prayer. None of it expresses my feelings. It all feels empty. M is not here and the rest of the world has forgotten my loss. Forgotten his life.

What I want to do is very out of character for me. I want his name tattooed on me. I want to see it everyday for the rest of my life. I am not a big fan of tattoos, but for some reason I am drawn to this. I have considered his footprints or a turtle, but I think I just want his name. Where to put it? I don't really know. I considered my foot or the inside of my arm. I don't necessarily want anyone else to see it. Maybe white ink, as it will be subtle. I am not sure I can go alone, but I don't know who I would trust that experience to. I don't like pain, but the pain seems welcome. A way to feel him.

I don't really know what the day will bring, but I can only hope I find a way to truly honor Noah. For now, I will begin the countdown, pray for peace, and hope to hold him in my dreams.

Fireproof?

Can it really happen?

I can only hope.

Maybe I need to find my faith.

Why do they get to decide?

I have a good friend who is fighting her insurance company over a vaccine that can keep her daughter from becoming quite ill. The company is denying her because of her age (she will 3 next week). Her daughter was born with hypoplastic left heart syndrome and faces what we all hope is her last surgery in 6 months. The vaccine is Synagis. Monkey is receiving this medicine and our insurance did not even bat an eye in approving it. The only reason he qualified is because is was 5 wks early and a multiple (I find it ironic that this still carries weight considering Noah is no longer with us). He doesn't really have a chronic health issue that would typically be considered for Synagis. We are just very lucky that our insurance company is very lenient about this vaccine. This is our 3rd and final RSV season that we will receive the shots.

My friend has appealed and had it denied. How can an insurance company override the decision of the pediatrician? He felt it was in her benefit to receive the shots, yet the insurance company doesn't want to foot the bill, so they just deny it. It has gone on to the next level of appeal, but in all honesty the RSV season will almost be over before anything is decided. This is so wrong. I don't think a money hungry industry should get to decide whether a treatment is needed. That is the doctor's place. I also find it ironic that the insurance companies push you to use their in network doctors, but do not actually trust their opinion if they do not want to pay a claim.

I know some will say that if she really needs the shots, the family should simply pay for them. The shots are over $6,000 a shot for a child her age. With six shots a season, that is $36,000. Who has that kind of cash lying around? It is not feasible for a normal, working family to afford such things without their health insurance.

There is so much talk about health care reform (and I am not expert), but all I hear about is the cost of premiums. I know that this is an issue, but what about the individuals not receiving care that doctors deem necessary? I know that children with Medicaid in our state who are recommended to receive the shots are not always approved. Just the other day a Mom was at our pediatricians office with her premature baby and had been denied by Medicaid. I guess the insurance companies would rather take a gamble with a babies health and just pay the hospital bills.

It all just seems wrong. While I am grateful for our insurance company paying for these, we have ran into other items that they will not pay for. Monkey was referred for a cranial remolding band as a baby due to plagiocephaly and torticollis. They would not pay the $1500 the band costs because they deemed it cosmetic. Plagiocephaly can cause vision and other problems. It is more than cosmetic. We were fortunate that we could afford it. They also have limits on OT, PT, and speech therapy. We have used all of these services or still are for Monkey's developmental delays. My ability to pay out of pocket for these services will affect my child's future. I just don't get how someone in an office somewhere gets to decided what is best for my child. I will definitely be paying more attention to these topics than I did before.