Milo had a few setbacks today. He got put back in his nasal cannula & on caffeine again due to increased apnea/brady spells. He is a preemie so I KNOW, rationally, that this is something that will happen during his time in the NICU. But sometimes being a mother is anything but rational thinking. You feel everything. Your heart & soul is invested into this little baby you made. These setbacks, however minor, hit me so hard.
I was holding him as he had his feeding. He is up to 38cc's every three hours now. That's amazing, but it felt like near the end of his feeding.. no matter what angle I held him, he would drop his sats. His monitor went off several times. He had a brady spell as well. Perhaps the disappointment of walking in & seeing the cannula back on was what set the tone. Quickly I became unable to handle the beeps & alarms in the whole room. Every time I heard one my heart would skip a beat & my head would immediately whip to look at his monitor. Every time his sats dropped down or caused an alarm.. my heart would sink. In the end, after feeding him, I had to put him back into his little plastic crib (he doesn't need help regulating his heat, which is good..), kissed him goodnight, told him I loved him & I had to get the hell out of there. I found myself nearly losing it in the bathroom. I felt overwhelmed & overstimulated. Part of me felt like I really needed a break from being there. I know that might seem horrible. But to have to walk into a unit like that & see your child there. To feel like he's not even yours yet. When a nurse says, "You want to change his diaper?" .. part of me wants to look at them like they have three heads & say, "Am I allowed?"
Of course I am. I am his MOTHER. I gave birth to him. He is MY son.
But it doesn't feel like that yet. You know, moments before I went into the unit, I was scrubbing up & confidently talking to his Daddy about how I was sure that he would be transferred back to Holmes. The night before I felt comfortable enough to fold his freshly laundered baby clothes & put them away in his drawer. I talked about how I wanted to get the crib put together & fix up his room & build the rocking chair my dad bought us for Dexter. How I wanted to get the ton of newborn diapers I received all set up on his changing table. Immediately as I was leaving the unit tonight, I felt a sense of dread. Of feeling like I jinxed it. That I become too comfortable with envisioning leaving the hospital with a baby eventually. I had that vision while pregnant. It didn't happen. I am desperately holding onto being positive. I know that these setbacks aren't major. I feel kind of dumb to even be worrying to this level, but unless you have also experienced a loss like we did with Dexter.. then you can't even begin to understand the worries I have within me. We just want to be happy & have our family.
& we will. I know we will. I know it. & once I have him in my arms being taken home.. I'll believe it.
A bright side note: He gained 40 grams since the last time he was weighed. He was 1965 grams. Which puts him over his birth weight (4 lbs, 4 oz) at 4 lbs, 5.31 oz. <3
I was holding him as he had his feeding. He is up to 38cc's every three hours now. That's amazing, but it felt like near the end of his feeding.. no matter what angle I held him, he would drop his sats. His monitor went off several times. He had a brady spell as well. Perhaps the disappointment of walking in & seeing the cannula back on was what set the tone. Quickly I became unable to handle the beeps & alarms in the whole room. Every time I heard one my heart would skip a beat & my head would immediately whip to look at his monitor. Every time his sats dropped down or caused an alarm.. my heart would sink. In the end, after feeding him, I had to put him back into his little plastic crib (he doesn't need help regulating his heat, which is good..), kissed him goodnight, told him I loved him & I had to get the hell out of there. I found myself nearly losing it in the bathroom. I felt overwhelmed & overstimulated. Part of me felt like I really needed a break from being there. I know that might seem horrible. But to have to walk into a unit like that & see your child there. To feel like he's not even yours yet. When a nurse says, "You want to change his diaper?" .. part of me wants to look at them like they have three heads & say, "Am I allowed?"
Of course I am. I am his MOTHER. I gave birth to him. He is MY son.
But it doesn't feel like that yet. You know, moments before I went into the unit, I was scrubbing up & confidently talking to his Daddy about how I was sure that he would be transferred back to Holmes. The night before I felt comfortable enough to fold his freshly laundered baby clothes & put them away in his drawer. I talked about how I wanted to get the crib put together & fix up his room & build the rocking chair my dad bought us for Dexter. How I wanted to get the ton of newborn diapers I received all set up on his changing table. Immediately as I was leaving the unit tonight, I felt a sense of dread. Of feeling like I jinxed it. That I become too comfortable with envisioning leaving the hospital with a baby eventually. I had that vision while pregnant. It didn't happen. I am desperately holding onto being positive. I know that these setbacks aren't major. I feel kind of dumb to even be worrying to this level, but unless you have also experienced a loss like we did with Dexter.. then you can't even begin to understand the worries I have within me. We just want to be happy & have our family.
& we will. I know we will. I know it. & once I have him in my arms being taken home.. I'll believe it.
A bright side note: He gained 40 grams since the last time he was weighed. He was 1965 grams. Which puts him over his birth weight (4 lbs, 4 oz) at 4 lbs, 5.31 oz. <3
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