JACOB RYAN ROTH
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
He is back in the OR
They told us it would take an hour to an hour and a half to get the lines started. They will let us know when the surgeon makes the incision to start getting to the heart. Been pretty tough this morning, had another anxiety attack when we got here, long story short I ended up in Jacobs bed. Just pray because it's going to be a long day. Jacob kept telling me that it would be ok.....so sweet and brave.
Monday, March 7, 2011
A note from Dad
We don't hear alot from Heart Dad's out there so I thought I would post a little something my husband wrote last night.
03/08/11
I wish I could see the world the way my two year old son does. Always smiling, always happy, always looking for someone to play with. Last week after having his heart catherization for his upcoming surgery he didn’t want to leave the hospital. He enjoyed playing in his “Boy Cage” as he called it. It was actually his hospital bed that doubled as a crib and medical tent. He loved to have us lock him in it with the sides fully closed. He kept calling it his boy cage to the nurses who he constantly flirted with. One even made him a sign which read “Jacob’s Boy Cage” after his playful acts. While Jacob played in his boy cage still hooked to heart monitors and IV’s, he would occasionally ask doctors and nurses to sign his baseball. See when Jacob was born he got a baseball and display case. It was intended to put his date of birth and measurements on; however, It became much more than that. Jacob was a heart baby, born missing the right side of his little heart. He had his first open heart surgery at only 7lbs (19 days old) with his second at eight months old. Somewhere along the way his mother and I thought it would be neat to have the doctors sign his baseball, after all they would be responsible for him playing ball. By the time each procedure was over there was not enough room for one more initial. Jacob is now ready for his third and Lord willing final surgery. With this surgery comes a new baseball, only this time he’s proudly asking with his little golden voice, “Will you sign my baseball”?
We had a few days in between the heart cath and actual surgery so they let Jacob out of his “boy cage”. Believe it or not he didn’t want to go. After all the needles and test he didn’t want to leave. He loved all the toys. He loved the doctors and nurses. He loved his own TV in his room, and he loved watching the fish in a big tank just down the hall. He kept saying “I don’t want to go” as we checked out of the hospital. We assured him we would be back and he could play with the fish later.
This morning, later has arrived. We will stop and look at the fish..ies on the way to the surgery ward. Today, Jacob will have his third open heart surgery, only this time he’ll know what’s going on. By now his mother and I are taking the most painful walk of our life. We get to carry our son to the operating room doors where we kiss him goodbye for his 7:30am surgery. Doctors tell us this procedure will take 5-6 hours minimum, followed by several hours in recovery before we can see him. One even explained that it takes longer to cut through all the scar tissue from the past two procedures. That includes the wires that held his little rib cage together from the past two.
Relax; Jacob is a pro at this. He’s already had his little heart stopped twice. The first was when he crashed a few hours after his first surgery in the ICU as his mother and I watched. The second was on the table during surgery #2 when they removed parts of his heart and rearranged others before restarting his heart. Now it’s time for one more pitch. Remember, three strikes and we’re out of here. Good Luck Jacob. Don’t forget your baseball.
Love, Dad
03/08/11
I wish I could see the world the way my two year old son does. Always smiling, always happy, always looking for someone to play with. Last week after having his heart catherization for his upcoming surgery he didn’t want to leave the hospital. He enjoyed playing in his “Boy Cage” as he called it. It was actually his hospital bed that doubled as a crib and medical tent. He loved to have us lock him in it with the sides fully closed. He kept calling it his boy cage to the nurses who he constantly flirted with. One even made him a sign which read “Jacob’s Boy Cage” after his playful acts. While Jacob played in his boy cage still hooked to heart monitors and IV’s, he would occasionally ask doctors and nurses to sign his baseball. See when Jacob was born he got a baseball and display case. It was intended to put his date of birth and measurements on; however, It became much more than that. Jacob was a heart baby, born missing the right side of his little heart. He had his first open heart surgery at only 7lbs (19 days old) with his second at eight months old. Somewhere along the way his mother and I thought it would be neat to have the doctors sign his baseball, after all they would be responsible for him playing ball. By the time each procedure was over there was not enough room for one more initial. Jacob is now ready for his third and Lord willing final surgery. With this surgery comes a new baseball, only this time he’s proudly asking with his little golden voice, “Will you sign my baseball”?
We had a few days in between the heart cath and actual surgery so they let Jacob out of his “boy cage”. Believe it or not he didn’t want to go. After all the needles and test he didn’t want to leave. He loved all the toys. He loved the doctors and nurses. He loved his own TV in his room, and he loved watching the fish in a big tank just down the hall. He kept saying “I don’t want to go” as we checked out of the hospital. We assured him we would be back and he could play with the fish later.
This morning, later has arrived. We will stop and look at the fish..ies on the way to the surgery ward. Today, Jacob will have his third open heart surgery, only this time he’ll know what’s going on. By now his mother and I are taking the most painful walk of our life. We get to carry our son to the operating room doors where we kiss him goodbye for his 7:30am surgery. Doctors tell us this procedure will take 5-6 hours minimum, followed by several hours in recovery before we can see him. One even explained that it takes longer to cut through all the scar tissue from the past two procedures. That includes the wires that held his little rib cage together from the past two.
Relax; Jacob is a pro at this. He’s already had his little heart stopped twice. The first was when he crashed a few hours after his first surgery in the ICU as his mother and I watched. The second was on the table during surgery #2 when they removed parts of his heart and rearranged others before restarting his heart. Now it’s time for one more pitch. Remember, three strikes and we’re out of here. Good Luck Jacob. Don’t forget your baseball.
Love, Dad
Tuesday, March 1, 2011
Surgery date moved again.........
The doctors called us as we were about to leave for the day to let us know they had to postpone Jacobs surgery because they had two babies coming in that required emergency surgery. They had initially wanted to reschedule the surgery for April which would have been impossible for us to do since we have already made arrangements to be gone for March.
They did call us back to let us know that they could get him in for surgery on Tuesday of next week, March 8th. He will still have to have his heart cath tomorrow at noon, then another chest x-ray. We will give him a day to recoup and then head home Thursday to wait out the weekend. We will come back up Sunday as he has blood work scheduled for Monday morning, then surgery Tuesday.
We will keep everyone updated with any other news we have.
Thanks for all the prayers and support, we love you all.
Pete, Michelle, Jacob and Mamaw
They did call us back to let us know that they could get him in for surgery on Tuesday of next week, March 8th. He will still have to have his heart cath tomorrow at noon, then another chest x-ray. We will give him a day to recoup and then head home Thursday to wait out the weekend. We will come back up Sunday as he has blood work scheduled for Monday morning, then surgery Tuesday.
We will keep everyone updated with any other news we have.
Thanks for all the prayers and support, we love you all.
Pete, Michelle, Jacob and Mamaw
Friday, February 11, 2011
IT'S OFFICIAL
The meeting with the gov. went really well. He talked with us for a little bit and shook Jacobs hand. It was so cute! Below are some pictures they sent us today.
Michelle, Pete and Jacob Roth
Thursday, February 10, 2011
CHD WEEK hits the Govenors office
On February 11, 2011 Jacob and our family will venture to Governor Tomlin's humble abode. He will be officially signing the CHD Awareness Proclamation that we submitted to him. We do this in hopes to raise awareness about CHD's and their affect on families here in West Virginia and around the world.
CHD's take the lives of more children than all childhood cancers combined so we need to spread awareness and help raise research funds for these illnesses as well.
Won't you join us in thanking Governor Tomblin for stepping up and proclaiming that February 7th through the 14th is CHD Awareness week in West Virginia and wish us luck at the signing tomorrow.
With love and many blessing
The Roths
CHD's take the lives of more children than all childhood cancers combined so we need to spread awareness and help raise research funds for these illnesses as well.
Won't you join us in thanking Governor Tomblin for stepping up and proclaiming that February 7th through the 14th is CHD Awareness week in West Virginia and wish us luck at the signing tomorrow.
With love and many blessing
The Roths
Sunday, February 6, 2011
Surgery date moved up
We received a call from Cincinnati on Friday that Jacob will have surgery on March 3, not the 4th. So a day earlier.....just one day closer to getting this all over with and getting our super hero home! Continue to pray for Jacob and very painless recovery.
Blessings to all
Michelle
Thursday, February 3, 2011
A Moms Perspective
I saw this poem on another heart site and had to post it........its great and it tell exactly how we heart moms feel at every possible moment.
A mother’s perspective.
by Stephanie Husted
You passed me in the shopping mall...(You read my faded tee)You tapped me on the shoulder...Then asked..."What's a CHD?" I could quote terminology...There's stats that I could give...But I would rather share with you...A mother's perspective.
What is it like to have a child with a CHD?
It’s Lasix, aspirin, Captopril…
It’s wondering…Lord what’s your will?…
It’s monitors and oxygen tanks…
It’s a constant reminder to always give thanks…
It’s feeding tubes, calories, needed weight gain…
It’s the drama of eating…and yes it’s insane!
It’s the first time I held him…(I’d waited so long)
It’s knowing that I need to help him grow strong…
It’s making a hospital home for awhile…
It’s seeing my reward in every smile.
It’s checking his sats as the feeding pump’s beeping…
It’s knowing that there is just no time for sleeping…
It’s caths, x-rays and boo boos to kiss…
It’s normalcy I sometimes miss…
It’s asking do his nails look blue?
It’s cringing inside at what he’s been through.
It’s dozens of calls to his pediatrician…(He knows me by name…I’m a mom on a mission)
It’s winters homebound…and hand sanitizer…
It’s knowing this journey has made me much wiser.
It’s watching him sleeping…his breathing is steady…
It’s surgery day and I’ll never be ready.
It’s handing him over…( I’m still not prepared…)
It’s knowing that his heart must be repaired…
It’s waiting for news on that long stressful day…
It’s …praying…it’s hoping…that he’ll be okay.
It’s the wonderful friends with whom I’ve connected…
It’s the bond that we share…it was so unexpected…
It’s that long faded scar down my child’s small chest…
It’s touching it gently and knowing we’re blessed…
It’s watching him chasing a small butterfly…
It’s the moment I realized I’ve stopped asking why?
It’s the snowflakes that fall on a cold winter’s day…
(They remind me of those who aren’t with us today)
It’s a brave little boy who loved Thomas the train…
Or a special heart bear…or a frog in the rain….
It’s the need to remember we’re all in this plight….
It’s their lives that remind us we still need to fight!
It’s in pushing ahead amidst every sorrow…
It is finding the strength to have hope for tomorrow.
A mother’s perspective.
by Stephanie Husted
You passed me in the shopping mall...(You read my faded tee)You tapped me on the shoulder...Then asked..."What's a CHD?" I could quote terminology...There's stats that I could give...But I would rather share with you...A mother's perspective.
What is it like to have a child with a CHD?
It’s Lasix, aspirin, Captopril…
It’s wondering…Lord what’s your will?…
It’s monitors and oxygen tanks…
It’s a constant reminder to always give thanks…
It’s feeding tubes, calories, needed weight gain…
It’s the drama of eating…and yes it’s insane!
It’s the first time I held him…(I’d waited so long)
It’s knowing that I need to help him grow strong…
It’s making a hospital home for awhile…
It’s seeing my reward in every smile.
It’s checking his sats as the feeding pump’s beeping…
It’s knowing that there is just no time for sleeping…
It’s caths, x-rays and boo boos to kiss…
It’s normalcy I sometimes miss…
It’s asking do his nails look blue?
It’s cringing inside at what he’s been through.
It’s dozens of calls to his pediatrician…(He knows me by name…I’m a mom on a mission)
It’s winters homebound…and hand sanitizer…
It’s knowing this journey has made me much wiser.
It’s watching him sleeping…his breathing is steady…
It’s surgery day and I’ll never be ready.
It’s handing him over…( I’m still not prepared…)
It’s knowing that his heart must be repaired…
It’s waiting for news on that long stressful day…
It’s …praying…it’s hoping…that he’ll be okay.
It’s the wonderful friends with whom I’ve connected…
It’s the bond that we share…it was so unexpected…
It’s that long faded scar down my child’s small chest…
It’s touching it gently and knowing we’re blessed…
It’s watching him chasing a small butterfly…
It’s the moment I realized I’ve stopped asking why?
It’s the snowflakes that fall on a cold winter’s day…
(They remind me of those who aren’t with us today)
It’s a brave little boy who loved Thomas the train…
Or a special heart bear…or a frog in the rain….
It’s the need to remember we’re all in this plight….
It’s their lives that remind us we still need to fight!
It’s in pushing ahead amidst every sorrow…
It is finding the strength to have hope for tomorrow.
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