Not how I planned it

Panic and adrenaline. That feeling when your hands won't stop shaking and you think you're going to throw up. Your mind races a thousand miles a minute and you struggle to focus. That was my day.

I was out shopping with all the kids. We had just finished at the pharmacy and went across the street to pick up groceries. The trip lasted less than five minutes, but Tulla was NOT happy. She was crying, and I knew something had to be up.

Luckily, her feed was done, so the backpack was unattached. But I smelled her diaper the moment I opened the side door of the van. My plan was to pull her out and get her extension off her button after I changed her diaper.

Well, I pulled her out of the car seat. Her extension got caught in the car seat straps. It pulled the whole thing out, balloon and all. I panicked. She screamed harder. Milk was flowing out and all over her belly. Her diaper had completely blown out. And I was in the grocery store parking lot with my whole crew of kiddos.

I didn't have the GI nurse's phone number.

I hadn't ever changed her button myself.

I'd only watched her have it changed once.

And now I was on the clock.

I knew I had about an hour before the hole would start closing, which can complicate the button going back in and sometimes requires other surgery. The nearest place to have it replaced was 45 minutes from my location.

So, I did what I had to do. I told the boys to get back in the car so I knew they were safe. I put some gauze and pressure over the hole to stop the milk flow, and laid her down on the front seat of my van. I got the syringe and emptied the button's balloon since it was still fully intact. Then I tried to set up to put it back in.

I tried to follow the same steps I had watched the nurse do, though this was in a very different setting. I prepped the gauze and lubrication. I got out the sterile water and syringes. Tulla was screaming and wiggling the whole time. There wasn't time to waste, so I went for it. I covered the end of the button with gel, made sure I was lined up to put it straight in, because I knew going at an angle could injure her.

It was hard to line up straight with a wiggly, screaming baby, but I did my best. I tried to put it in, but it wouldn't go. I was worried it wasn't lined up. My hands were shaking. I got more lubricant and tried again. The gel was everywhere. Tulla was in pain and crying louder.

The button was so slippery that it fell on the floor of the van. Thank goodness the stomach isn't a sterile environment. I looked at it again and thought I may not have emptied it entirely. Maybe the extra water was what was stopping it from going in all the way. So I grabbed her new backup button from its container and prepped that one instead.

I was running out of time, and every time I tried to put it in, I felt like I was hurting her. It was time to call someone. But who should I call? Her GI would be the most logical choice, but the notebook with all that information was at home on the counter where I had been updating it earlier in the day. I tried looking them up on the hospital's app on my phone, but I couldn't find it.

I changed tactics and changed her diaper. I knew I could do that, and at least ease that discomfort. After I cleaned up one of Tulla's messes, I called the operator at the children's hospital. Of course, I had to go through the automated system and was placed on hold. So I figured I should keep trying to get the button in.

I got the operator and I'm sure I sounded crazy.

Crying baby.

Frazzled mama.

I explained what had happened and who I needed to talk to. She got my information. While she was trying to hear me over Tulla and make sense of my shaking voice, the tornado siren went off. Of course, that was when they had to test it. I know it happens the same time every week, but it felt like a personal attack in the moment.

It was somewhere in that conversation that I finally got it in. She had paged a nurse, I couldn't focus on what she was saying. I realized I forgot to draw the water which fills the balloon and holds it in place.

With one hand holding Tulla's stomach to keep her from wiggling and the button from coming out, I drew the water with the other and got it in. I breathed a sigh of relief and realized that the operator had asked me something else. I apologized and told her that I could hear her, but that I had just gotten the button in place and was making sure it was secured.

I looked down and realized the water had pushed back into the syringe instead of staying in the balloon, so I quickly fixed that. It was at this point my three year old noticed a wasp had flown into the open door of the van and was buzzing by the driver-side window. The last thing I needed was for someone to get stung.

Unfortunately, the operator couldn't hear me for some reason after that. She told me that the nurse would call as soon as they could, and then hung up.

I scooped up my exhausted, sore, and completely unhappy baby and held her close. I used her extension to check and make sure the button was placed correctly, making sure it drew stomach fluid instead of something else (sorry if that grosses you out, but that's my reality). Everything was okay, and it was no longer an emergency situation.

One crisis avoided, so next was to deal with the wasp. I quickly went around the van and opened the driver-side door. Thankfully, it flew away without incident. All I wanted to do was go home and crawl under a blanket. That wasn't an option, though. I still had grocery shopping to do.

The boys, who had sat so nicely through the whole ordeal, piled back out of the van and happily walked into the store as though nothing had happened. It was strange to have just gone through all of that and then immediately do something so mundane as picking out fruits and vegetables.

The nurse called me while I was in the bread aisle, and I explained everything that had happened. She told me I had done everything right, and that getting caught in the car seat is a fairly common way that tubes get pulled out. It's weird to hear that you did everything right when you feel horrible for hurting your child.

I ripped her tube out.

It didn't matter that it was an accident. It still was definitely not right.

But Tulla is going to be okay.

Honestly, by that point she was already waving at random strangers with a big smile on her face like the whole thing didn't even happen.

I was definitely the most traumatized out of everyone. It was not how I expected it to happen. I was expecting to do her first button change in the doctor's office with a nurse guiding me. It was going to be calm and directed in an environment with plenty of space and safeties in place.

This was not that experience. Not even close. I'm not sure why nothing ever seems to go how I planned lately, but I am proud of myself. I was very worried that I wouldn't be able to stomach actually placing the tube when the time came, but in the moment that didn't even bother me. All I could think about was her.

The guilt and other feelings came later. It was quite the roller coaster and I'm still reeling a bit. We got through it though.

At the end of the day, I'm grateful I knew what to do, and that I had my emergency kit handy with everything I needed. I had instructions from her medical team. If you ever find yourself in a serious medical situation, I encourage you to follow your medical team's emergency instructions. They tend to be a little different for everyone, based on what I've read. The only missing piece for me was the phone number for the nurse line, which I now have programmed into my phone.