Yesterday was quite a day. Elizabeth's Upper GI was at the Children's Hospital of Philadelphia, a place that fills me with so much confidence just at being inside the parking garage. I wish that's where Lizzy had been...but, coulda, shoulda, woulda. Anyway, we made it in time, but I had not been told before hand that this wasn't your run-of-the-mill Upper GI. It was an "Upper GI Small Bowel Follow Through," which means that they give the patient the barium, take pictures and then wait to watch the concoction work its way through the system. They take pictures every 30 minutes. But the catch was that Meghan (who came with me because I'm an idiot and didn't plan better) wasn't allowed in the room because of the Xrays, and obviously, I couldn't leave her in the hallway alone. So strangers had to take Liz, who had not eaten and was incredibly pissed off, and hold her down for these pictures. Sitting in the hallway listening to her scream was awful. I was frantically calling and texting anyone I could think of to try to get them to come there and hang with Meg so I could be there for Liz. To no avail. It took two and a half hours of intermittent picture-taking to get to the end, with Meghan growing ancy and Lizzy growing more and more ravenous. Plus, we were sitting in the walkway for the OR, so every baby and pediatric patient going for surgery walked right by us. Two babies looked so much like Liz when we took that walk with her twice. It was tough. My heart was aching for the parents. But in the end, they got what they needed from Lizzy's gut, and when the tech checked with the doctor she reported back to me that "everything looks normal."

I cried.

No pouches, loops or hang ups in her intestines where they operated. No narrow areas, scar tissue or strictures. Just normal intestinal stuff.

A little background, just so you know why and for what they were looking. After her second bowel surgery, they told us that she lost only about nine centimeters of bowel. She had a section of her intestines that was stretched out so badly that it would never shrink itself back down and work properly. This happened because when babies are in utero, as we know, they swallow amniotic fluid. But she was swallowing into a blocked gut, so there was nowhere for the fluid to, resulting in a very large, dilated piece of bowel. They took out the blockage in the first surgery, but not the non-functioning section. Let her sit for six weeks getting sicker (four blood transfusions, becoming septic, couldn't eat, blah blah blah), then reoperated and removed that section. Everything went well, but they told us then that there was a chance that where they had reattached the two pieces could host an overgrowth of the "bad" bacteria. This could lead to bowel stasis and a really sick baby. Not good news.

So...because she has had so many stomach bugs this winter and it has taken her up to two weeks to clear them, the GI doctor became concerned that the natural barrier that she should have of good bacteria had been basically destroyed by the viruses and all of the antibiotics she had been on for the ear infections, etc. She could have been facing a lifetime of prophylactic antibiotics and potentially succumbing to terrible stomach viruses. An Upper GI would allow them to see if there was a trouble area at the the surgical site. There'd be no escaping the reality. If they saw it, if it was there, I could no longer tell myself that she was ok. She might not be.

And then they told me that all is well. I didn't see it coming. Blindsided again...but by happy news instead of the other kind to which I have become accustomed.

The kids have a two-hour snow delay today, which is nice. They still can go to school, but it's been a nice relaxing morning, filled with two of them playing out back in the snow/ice/rain while Lizzy goes between the sliders and the windows watching her sisters. Now hot chocolate and graham crackers...then off to school in an hour. Pretty perfect morning after a really great day yesterday.

Erin has been invited by a friend to go to see a play in Philly on Saturday. I'm so excited for her...and realize that with this accepted invitation I have now entered yet another realm of parenthood. One where I kiss my child at the door and trust her well-being to others. My first inclination is to hold on tight and say "No freakin' way!" But this is another opportunity for me to let her spread her wings a little. Even it does mean she's crossing state lines. And crossing a bridge. And will be in a large, crowded theater and is way less than four feet tall. Easy to misplace.

And there go my neuroses. Again.