I've had to write this post over a few days, for a couple of different reasons. It has been quite a busy and chaotic time for us, and finding the time to process my feelings, let alone write them down, has been rare.
When they came in and told me that Tatum was going down to the NICU, it was around 1 in the morning. After my nurse left, I couldn't fall back asleep. So around 3:30, I woke up poor Billy, and said I wanted to go down to see her. So we called my nurse in and told her we wanted to go down and she helped get us a wheel chair and hook the catheter up to is and stuff. (Let me tell ya, few things are more awkward than rolling around the hospital with your pee on display...)
When we got there, we met with her MD, who said they were getting chest x-rays done, as well as doing a few other things, and that there wasn't a whole lot of room in there for us. So we sat in the parents' lounge and waited. Well, I thumbed through the NICU scrapbook, Billy slept on the couch. After about an hour and a half, we decided to head back to the room. Sitting on a hard wheelchair with a catheter in, is not all that comfortable, and we needed some sleep so we headed back up.
Later that morning, I got my catheter out, got a shower and changed into some real clothes, and got ready to go see our girl.
We walked in to see my sweet little baby hooked up to monitors and tubes and IVs and a high frequency ventilator that constantly, gently shook her little body, she was sedated and on pain meds, which helped, to know that she wasn't hurting. I told people I knew what to expect, but I wasn't sure that my heart was ready to see my baby so helpless and lifeless.
The first day was just a blur. Nurses, doctors, nurse practitioners, CNAs, home health doctors, lactation consultants, social workers, respiratory therapists, all came in to talk to us and overload us with information. To be honest, I listened, but knew that I wouldn't understand all that they were saying anyway. I just sat there, holding my baby's hand, and nodded and hoped Billy understood any of this. Later Tatum got a blessing from Billy and two of her grandpas that afternoon. It was was comforting and we knew she'd be ok.
On Wednesday I was discharged from the hospital. Billy and I spent the rest of the day in the NICU. We went home to get Will and have some dinner with him and put him to bed. Then I headed back to the hospital to be with her.
The first night away from her was horrible. I sat on the couch and sobbed to the point of hyperventilating. I wanted my baby home with me. It hurt to be so far away, and feel so powerless to do anything for her. It was probably the most devastated and defeated I've ever felt in my life. All I could do was have Billy hold me while we cried together.
The next few days were all the same. I would come and sit with Tatum, although she was sedated, talk to her and hold her hand. I'd do this for a few hours then head home to be with William. I'd get excited with the smallest changes. They seemed like we'd conquered Everest with each one. When they took out the tube sucking air out of her tummy, or when they took out her umbilical artery catheter, our when she started to get breastmilk, I would be so proud of her.
One night I got to help with her cares for the first time. I took her temperature, changed her diaper, brushed her hair, cleaned her mouth, helped weigh her. It was the most "interaction" with her I'd gotten in days. All the commotion, and the fact that she needed another dose of meds, she opened her eyes for a little while. She was very groggy, but it did my heart so much good to look into her eyes, even if it was just for that brief moment.
Friday afternoon I got the best surprise of all. I walked into her room and there was no ventilator, and her chest tube was out! Her nurse was so excited. Her whole NICU wing seemed to be in on the "surprise" and came in to see if I'd seen her yet, it was very sweet. Her nurse looked at me and said "I think you need to hold your baby!" We got to have some skin to skin time together, and it was magical. A few minutes in I called Billy and when he answered I said "guess what I'm doing right now... holding our baby!" About 20 minutes later he joined me and was holding our little girl. It made me so happy to see. After they extubated her, they took off her CO2 monitors on her chest and she let out the saddest, most hoarse cry, but she CRIED! It's weird to say, but it was the best sound!
The next few days she slowly but surely got better, and we got more and more anxious to get her home. I was able to start nursing her, and since they wanted me there for at least 3 feedings, I started spending more time there. William was passed around from family member to family member, and while he didn't seem too much worse for the wear, I couldn't help but feel torn in my time, and guilty no matter where I was.
Pretty soon we got to the point where all she needed was to keep doing great with her feedings and she could come home. That was the most frustrating. She was doing so well and I just wanted her home. On Friday, the 21st we got the best news, that we could bring our girl home! She had to do a carseat test, basically, she had to sit in her carseat for 90 minutes without any desats in her oxygen levels. She passed with flying colors.
The discharge process was a bit long and tedious, probably mostly because we were so ready to have her home, and all that they were doing just seemed to be prolonging that. But after some happy, tearful hugs, we signed out of the NICU for the first time.
Life post-NICU has been interesting. I have to keep reminding myself that I don't need to scrub all the way up to my elbows all the time, or that I don't need to taker her temperature or weigh her diapers every three hours. I still bathe in hand sanitizer. I'm sure it will be quite a while before she and I are away from each other.