Word of the Day:  Terror

Remember I said that Lyra had fallen off the bed while I was moving my dad? 

We were putting Lyra into her car seat to visit Dad yesterday, when I noticed a little bump on her head. It was about 2 inches long and it felt like a bubble of fluid. My heart started to palpitate as I dialed the pediatrician. As the phone was ringing, I was thinking about the day—did our Nanny drop her and not tell us? Did she bang her head in the pool when we were swimming just now? The pediatrician said to come on over. They took a look at the bump and thought it was probably nothing, but we still had to go and get it x-rayed to be sure it wasn’t a fracture. It was only after this that I remembered the fall back at Dad’s house and how she must have landed on her head.

So, off we went to the emergency room. Marty kept Ripley over at Dad’s new apartment (See June 27th entry), which is right across the street from the hospital. I waited in the emergency room for our name to be called. About an hour and a half later, I carried Lyra into a little, curtained-off room where a doctor took a look at my baby’s bump. She was fairly sure it was nothing either, saying how she’s seen many babies with fractures and there are always very clear signs of trauma. Lyra hasn’t had any change in behavior whatsoever. She had just finished sucking down 6 ounces of formula, and one of the signs is loss of appetite. Still, she was going to need a CAT scan to be sure. Marty finally came back from Dad’s with Ripley and we were moved to a room closer to the CAT scan area. Marty went with Lyra for the scan. He said she was great as he was draped in lead and then he held her still to get the image. We waited for a half an hour for the results.

The doctor returned saying she needed to eat her words. There was a problem. Lyra had a small fracture with a little bit of bleeding. I started to spontaneously weep. I think I went into some kind of shock. I started to shake uncontrollably. Another doctor brought me a blanket since I was shivering. They informed us we had to have her transferred down to Westchester Medical Center where they had the best children’s hospital in the area with specialists in neuroscience and surgery. At first, they thought they might send a helicopter for her. However, even in my state of terror, I knew that was a little bit excessive. Instead, they sent an ambulance. I went with Lyra to Westchester and Marty took Ripley home.

At Westchester, they loaded us into their emergency room where one doctor scared me to death saying she might need surgery. We had to wait for the neurosurgical team to look at her CAT scan. He also said they had to call social services since it was state law for any injury of this kind. I really didn’t care at that moment; the word surgery was still like a neon sign flashing before my eyes. He could have been a little less of an alarmist.

They gave me a cot near her crib in the emergency area and we attempted to sleep despite some noisy staff members watching TV. It was around 2 a.m. at this point. Finally, I complained and a room conveniently opened up in the children’s intensive care unit. There, we slept a little bit more. I was still basically in shock, but went into robot drive that morning, asking the nurses for the right formula, the right size diapers and a clean onesie.   Everyone was extremely kind, telling me their stories of their children falling off beds.   Seems like every parent has one. By this time, I had talked to our nanny and she swore that nothing had happened to Lyra on her watch. I was very convinced at this point that it was the fall on Friday that had caused this fracture. Other doctors were not so sure, saying we’d have seen some evidence of the fracture sooner. But I knew nothing else really could have happened because we were always with her, or she was with our nanny. Eliane is very religious and I knew she would never lie about such a thing.

Around 9:30 a.m., the head resident of neurosurgery came in. He said the CAT scan looked very mild to them. In their opinion, there wouldn’t be any need for surgery, or anything else for that matter. Babies are very resilient and this would just heal on its own. There would be absolutely no damage to her brain. The tiny bit of blood would naturally be absorbed. I almost collapsed with relief. He said that their opinion just needed to be confirmed by the head of their department who was looking at her pictures now.

As soon as he left, two women from social services from Connecticut arrived. Again, they were very clear that it was state law to interview us about potential child abuse. Believe me, the irony was not lost on me. Here Marty and I are two major creative sources on Sesame Street, and we’re being interviewed to be sure we don’t abuse our children? Egads. They asked very pointed questions about Lyra’s fall, about her behavior and our ways of disciplining and parenting. I had to point out that you don’t discipline a 5-month-old! They agreed, but these are the questions they have to ask. And then a police officer showed up from our hometown! The police also have to check for potential child abuse. He was very nice and professional, and as soon as he learned the accident happened on Long Island, he shook my hand and left. It was out of his jurisdiction! Thank god that at this point, I knew Lyra was going to be just fine or I would have needed a Valium. 

My savior came in the form of Dr. Mohan, the head of neurosurgery at the hospital. I swear, he looked like he was 25, but he was the head honcho. In front of the social services ladies, he confirmed that the injury was completely consistent with a fall that could have happened several days earlier. The same thing had happened to one of his friends whose child had hit his head in Babies R’ Us and it had taken a week for the injury to present itself. He also agreed that she would make a full recovery without any intervention. He just needed to see her again in three weeks. He gave me his card and left. I swear, a celestial choir was now singing in my heart. And the social services people had heard the whole prognosis!  

Still, they had to go see our house and our baby’s home environment and interview Marty. I called to tell him and he wasn’t fazed at all. The same thing had happened both to his best friend, whose son had a much more severe fracture when the babysitter dropped him, and his ex-wife when Caley, at 1 year old, pulled a hot iron down on himself.

Meanwhile, Lyra and I had to wait another 7 hours (!!!) for one more test of her eyes to be sure there was no blood behind them. It was a horrible test, flashing a bright light in her eyes.   She cried and cried. I was weeping again, but at least when it was over, we could finally check out!

After 30 hours in emergency rooms, an ambulance, ICU, scans, x-rays and blood tests for Lyra, meeting with police and social services, Marty pointed out that, in the end, we were told to do nothing but give her a few drops of anti-seizure medicine which she most likely didn’t need. Sometimes, nothing is the best medicine. And Lyra slept well that night, like a baby.



Our swim just before I found Lyra’s head fracture. Ripley is giving me her classic “Baby Power” sign.


Lyra’s head bump is on the other side. I’m surprised I didn’t see it while in the pool, but I’m always focused on keeping her mouth out of the water.

Curriculum of the Day:  Modern Technology

 I talked to Ripley on the phone for the first time.

I was coming back from a meeting with Joey Mazzarino, the head writer on Sesame Street domestic, and Marty put Ripley on the telephone. I talked very loud (not unusual for me) and slow (very unusual for me), and several times she babbled back. I was laughing so hard I almost zipped through the E-ZPass lane without holding up my pass. (I was talking on headphones—safety first!)   

The Itsy Bitsy Spider show is all done. Weeooo! Now, on to my third and final show of this season. Got to think of some ideas before I head to Bangladesh on the 26th. I also have to start my inserts sometime soon. Inserts are the short Muppet bits that pepper throughout the show. For example: the classic Grover Near/Far; or Elmo talking with a celebrity. Right now, we write a 12­­–15 minute-long Street story, which starts the show. Then, we write a letter insert, a number insert, and one other wild insert that can be a production song or a parody. One of my wild cards last year was a spoof of Mad Men with everyone being mad, then being sad, then being happy. 


Ripley talking on the phone to her Mommy.

Word of the day:   Solid

Our babies have started on solid food!

It’s a sight to behold. We mix up the rice cereal—Ricey Goodness since their formula is known as Milky Goodness— put it in a cup, take their little spoons and glide it right into their mouths. And their chins, and cheeks, and fingers. I almost put a spoonful right into Ripley’s eyeball.  

Ripley’s getting the hang of eating much faster than Lyra. She actually opens her mouth and swallows. Lyra sticks her tongue out and tries to lick the spoon, or push it down her gullet using her tongue. Still, I’m sure some goes down, and it isn’t only on her chin and hands and clothing. Ripley likes to grab the spoon, which makes it a little tough to keep the momentum up. She won’t let go and I have to disengage her fingers to get it back. Then, she complains so I try to feed her again, only to get into spoon-lock once more. The dogs are stationed at the bottom of each high chair to catch any goodness that gets flung down to the floor.

It is utterly entertaining. Marty has the video camera rolling. Lyra does raspberries when she gets a good mouthful, sending Ricey Goodness everywhere. We can’t wait to try Pea Goodness and Banana Goodness. The possibilities are endless!
 
Ripley with a tight grip on her spoon.

 

Curriculum of the day:   Self-preservation

I am trapped between Dhaka and Bangkok at 35,000 feet. After circling the Dhaka airport for an hour as lightning flashed out our windows, we’ve been diverted to Bangkok. From there, who knows? Will we just refuel and try again? Deplane? I’ve always wanted to go to Bangkok, but by choice, with my husband and kids. Now, I exist in that land of limbo on a long, intercontinental flight. What time is it? Got me. Should I sleep? Try and stay awake? I’ve got one day in Dhaka before we start the Sisimpur workshop but it seems to be shortening with every hour. Need I mention I also have that small knot in my stomach I get when flying? I KNOW it’s safer up here than driving to the mall, but that doesn’t help during turbulence.

I miss my kids. I miss Marty. I can see their picture on my desktop looking at me so matter-of-factly. They seem to be saying, “We’re here, Mom. Where are you?”

I really don’t know.


Children in the now.

Curriculum of the Day:  Different Cultures

I’m traveling to Bangladesh tomorrow to run a workshop for Sisimpur, the Bangladeshi Sesame Street.  

Marty and I for many years now have gone around the world helping the international co-productions. Many people don’t realize how much work Sesame Street does to help children all over the globe. We partner with countries to do local productions of the show using their own Muppet characters and their own curriculum focusing on issues particular to their country. There are 20 active co-productions including Indonesia, Bangladesh, India, South Africa, Mexico, Netherlands, Brazil, Palestine, Northern Ireland and Egypt.

I’m particularly fond of the Bangladesh show for many reasons. One is that I have been on it since the inception.   It was right after 9/11 and our country wouldn’t grant the team visas. Why? Well, probably because they are Muslims. Muslims with masters degrees still are Muslims. So, Sesame wisely moved our first development workshop to South Africa. There, we worked together with the Bangladesh team to create the show’s characters: Halum, a vegetarian Tiger; Shiku, a smart, introverted little boy fox; Ikri, a little monster girl; and Tuktuki, a slightly older village girl. Marty and I then traveled to Bangladesh with our producer at that time, Nadine Zylstra, to do a writer’s workshop and hire and train the puppeteers. It was a life-changing experience to be in a country of such poverty and so much heart. A documentary film was even made about the making of the Bangladesh show.


Marty with his newly hired puppeteers.


Litu, our soon-to-be head writer with Haider, our live-action film producer enjoying the final night party.

Sisimpur has been airing for 7 years now. When it began, it was the only locally produced children’s show airing on the main television station. It has been proven that children who watch Sisimpur go into school one entire grade level ahead of other children. You can’t beat those numbers. The outreach department even brings the show to poorer villages via rickshaw.

We’re about to start the sixth season and there are new writers and a need to revisit the characters on the show as well as change the structure. So, I’ll be running a five-day writing workshop along with the new producer, Mary Tai. Here’s the shows website: www.bracnetsisimpur.com    

This will be the first time I’ve been away from Lyra and Ripley for any length of time. Marty and I are planning on talking twice a day and doing some videos from each side of the world. I’m excited to go, and also anxious about leaving the girls. Can Mommy leave her children for 10 days and not go insane? We’ll see…