Girl Preemies

I'm not sure I could count how many times nurses told us that girl preemies tend to do better than boy preemies. I remember being asked if I knew his gender while in labour and when I told them he was a boy, there were definite looks exchanged. That first afternoon in the NICU I was told by one of the nurses that it was too bad he was a boy as girl preemies usually fair much better. I would then hear this statement at least a few dozen more times over the following few weeks. I'm not sure how it was supposed to be helpful...

Day 8: An Emotional Mess

I'm not sure whether the shock had started to wear off and the reality had begun to set in, but day 8 of my baby's life was incredibly difficult. He had lost weight since being transferred from the other hospital, the nurses were rarely letting me hold him, my husband was back at work and thus I was alone visiting our son, and I just felt so broken.

When I sat beside my baby in the hospital I tried not to cry as I didn't want to bring attention to myself. I sat quietly either trying to read a book, or more successfully, write in a journal. Most of the time I just sat watching my baby, until I had to pump again which seemed to be much too frequent.

On this day I must have given away my mood in my face, as I did not shed a tear, as one of the nurses approached me in what I believe was an effort to lift my spirits. She told me that the bright side of the whole thing was that I got to meet my baby early. I thought about this quite a bit, and how I almost went to get the 3D ultrasound of him a couple of weeks before in order to get the early peek...

The thing is, I wouldn't wish this experience on anyone. At least when I was still pregnant with him I had him with me all the time. While he was in the hospital I had to keep leaving him behind- I think an incredibly terrible thing for a mother to have to do. It doesn't feel right to be separated from your child- emotionally or physically.

This was a really hard day as my thoughts kept sinking lower. I remember watching some of the other women on the maternity floor when I was sitting on an empty chair to get a break from the NICU, carting their babies around in cots, preparing to take them home with them in the next day or two. Some might have smoked, others may have drank or done drugs or eaten poorly or not exercised. I had thought I had done everything right, everything that I possibly could have to ensure a healthy pregnancy, yet here I was- visiting my baby in the NICU. It just didn't seem fair.

The tipping point occurred that night when I got home. I found out that my dad had sent pictures of our son in the NICU out to different family and friends by email and I just lost it. It wasn't that I had told him he couldn't, I just hadn't told him he could. I didn't want anyone to see my son with an IV in his head, with wires all over his body, with a tube down his nose... he was still supposed to be safe and protected inside me- this was not supposed to happen. I cried and yelled and cried some more. My husband tried to comfort me through his own tears but there was no consoling on this day.

Head IV

One of the first mornings we went in to see our son in the NICU, he had a catheter coming out of the left side of his head. It was explained to us that they were unable to find a vein anywhere else, so they had to shave a section of his newborn hair and put the catheter just above his ear. With his head being so small, it looked like a giant needle sticking out of the top of his head. It was incredibly dramatic and once again broke my heart. I was also handed a little card that had the lock of hair they had to shave off- it read 'my first haircut'.

Apnea and Jaundice

Our baby was started on caffeine shortly after his birth. One of many things I didn't know was a possibility prior to giving birth prematurely. The pediatrician explained that it would help to regulate his breathing and increase his heart rate, mainly to prevent periods of apnea (where the heart rate decreases to a dangerous level). My son had a few episodes of apnea which resulted in the alarms going off and a number of nurses rushing over to his incubator in order to shift and rub him until his heart rate increased once again. Giving him caffeine apparently stimulates the heart and increases its rate. This made sense as I imagined my husband getting his 'caffeine boost' from coffee each morning, but still seemed crazy to be giving to someone so young and small. I was assured that he would be 'off' the caffeine in a few weeks and would not become addicted to it as I feared.

Our baby also had jaundice which is apparently very common in full-term babies, and even more so in premature infants. He had a bit of a yellow look to him and needed to be placed under lights for therapy. He was given a tiny little headband that covered his eyes for protection from the lights. At the first hospital the light was long and narrow and did not cover his full body at once; the second hospital's seemed to be a little fancier with full body, and incubator, coverage. 

I kept thinking that it would have been nice to have been provided with some, or any, of the information during prenatal classes that we were forced as parents to learn quickly following the sudden and expected early birth of our son.

Holding My Baby

After parking I made my way through the narrow hospital halls and up to the NICU. I washed my hands with soap and water for the 15-30 seconds I was supposed to prior to entering the specialized unit. I then beelined it to my baby, anxious to make sure he was alright. I stared into the incubator and was happy to see that everything looked okay. The vitals machine wasn't beeping- another good sign. I then looked through his chart next to his station and saw that he had lost more weight after the transfer. This had been expected but was still hard as it just seemed that much longer that he would need to be in there. I pulled up a chair and sat watching my little guy.

A nurse appeared a few minutes later to introduce herself and say that she would be taking care of my baby for the next couple of day shifts. She was an older nurse and seemed okay, but not overly warm towards me. I asked her how he was doing and whether the pediatrician had been in but she didn't really have any answers. She thought the pediatrician would probably be in shortly to talk to me.

I sat and watched my little guy breathe for sometime before I went to pump. Shortly after I returned the pediatrician came by and told me that although he had taken a bit of a step back from the transfer, he was still doing really well and they had no real concerns at this time. He still had jaundice so would need to continue to be under the lights but there were no signs of infection. There would be no changes for at least a few days on his medication or tube feeding schedule as he adjusted to his new environment.

Later in the morning the nurse came by and asked if I'd like to hold my little guy. I had been too shy to ask, but of course I was dying to hold him. In the previous NICU I had held him kangaroo style (no clothing, chest to chest) for over an hour the last 2 days he was there which had been such a great bonding experience.

The nurse then wrapped my baby up in several layers and handed him gently to me. She told me that I could hold him 10-15 minutes and that would be good for the day. Maybe the following day I could hold him that amount of time as well. I stared at her in disbelief as this was completely different than what I had been exposed to at the other NICU, and contradicted what the pediatrician had told me the day before. The nurse left and I tried to enjoy holding my tightly packaged little man while tears welled up in my eyes. Ten minutes later she came back and asked if I was done holding him. I quietly requested some more time, so she gave me another 5 minutes. I was heartbroken.

Parking

I got up the first morning back home and went through the motions to start my day- breakfast, shower, change. I threw some snacks, a water bottle, and a book in a bag and went out to the car. I planned to arrive at the NICU just after morning shift change as I wouldn't be allowed in otherwise.

I raced to the hospital, anxious to see my little guy. I was especially worried after being told that he may take a step or two back because of the transfer. I arrived and parked in one of the longer term parking areas. I went up to get a ticket to put on my car and stared at the choices. Do I get an hourly, daily, weekly, or monthly pass. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath before punching in for a monthly ticket. This would be our goal I was thinking, to get the little guy out of here by the time this parking pass expires.

Going Home

My parents arrived with my husband at the NICU not too long after I had arrived with the paramedics. It was the first time they got to meet him, one at a time, as no visitors aside from the parents had been allowed into the NICU at the previous hospital. They both commented on how tiny he was.

My husband and I then left the hospital and drove to pick up our dog. She has meant the world to both of us for many years so I was shocked to have little feeling for her when we picked her up. She was incredibly excited, whining and racing circles around us, but I just didn't seem to care. I wasn't expecting this sort of reaction and it suddenly occurred to me I was still feeling numb and in shock.

We then returned home to our house. It had only been a week since I had left for the doctor's office but it felt like a lifetime had passed. Here I was back home, without my baby. Never had I predicted this, nor could anyone understand how it feels unless they have been there. My husband then mentioned that he planned to return to work the next day so he could take time off once the baby was actually home. It made sense, but upset me as I realized that I was now going to be facing the hospital visits alone. I was so excited to get home that I hadn't thought through the reality of it, including having a number of regular responsibilities around the house again, and no longer having the 24/7 company of my husband.