Fertile Hope

I watched my baby be bagged tonight.

Pretty much just like on TV. Only about 8 billion times more terrifying.

He's okay and last I knew sleeping like.. well.. a baby. I might still be shaking a little.

We had a decent enough day, really. I really liked his day nurse. She is clearly a veteran nurse and explained everything in detail but in a way that I could understand.

Robbie was up and down on his O2 needs, but mostly just barely outside the parameters. Basically just enough to keep his nurse on her toes. He managed to poop on his own again this morning. And poop enough to require his entire pad to need changing. I giggled and told her I was sorry she had to change everything, but I was thrilled to hear it. She brushed away my apology and agreed "Pooping is good!"

I asked about the density on his X ray and if they suspected infection (since they sent off a culture) why he wasn't on antibiotics. she said he has no signs of infection. All his other numbers are good. This was more of a routine check than anything.

About 2:30 we decided to Kangaroo. He got mellow. She commented how well he does when he Kangaroos. I beamed. A couple of other nurses that have taken care of Robbie came by and made comments about how well he does when he Kangaroos, how his nurse was getting it easy now because he just loves to be with his mommy. It was awesome.

They've upped his feeds again- 9ml/2hours started this afternoon. He tolerated the fortifier that was started a couple of days ago really well, so today they were going to add some protein as well. I think Robbie inherited his dad's stomach. Good for him!

The mom of the baby to Robbie's left (same size as Robbie) is in awe. She's on 2ml. We might try to encourage them to compete. They already communicate via their alarms. The nurses tell them to "stop texting" each other.

After more than 3 hours of Kangarooing, I finally had to admit that I needed to get up. I was overdue for pumping, and frankly, I couldn't feel my butt. Kangarooing isn't just sitting- it's sitting STILL. His vent tubes are taped to my shirt, everything else is arranged carefully. Twice I had his feeding machine in my lap. There's no real way to shift your weight. And really, these are hospital recliners- not La-z-boys.

His nurse came over and we pulled back his blankets, she unhooked one of his monitors and put it in his bed. We both heard "pssh pshh pssh pssh" and she said "What was that?" then all of a sudden, everything went crazy.

He'd extubated. Earlier in the night he'd spit up just a tiny bit. A nurse said "maybe he spit it out when he spit up." All I knew was that I hadn't seen the nurses move that quickly before. Another nurse came and pulled Robbie from me, he was back in bed in a minute. I saw yet another nurse leave and come back very quickly with a nurse practitioner. The NP said to go get someone from the intubation team. someone said they may have to be called because they were at a delivery.

Our nurse had a blue bag and was puff puff puffing away. I watched Robbie's chest rise and fall. I was terrified.

We got out of the way, I stood a few feet away and looked helplessly from monitor to baby. I kept telling myself that they knew what they were doing and he would be fine. The intubation team would be here any minute.

There was a new baby a few beds down from Robbie and he had visitors. I wanted to scream at them to stand still- didn't they know something really, really important was happening!? Stop distracting people!

A team of three continued to work on Robbie. Finally I saw the NP trying to get the tube in. Years of watching ER & Grey's Anatomy told me what was happening. My whole body shook. I wasn't crying. I was telling myself everything was fine.

The mom of Robbie's left side friend came in and looked inquisitive. She asked me if everything was okay. I opened my mouth to answer but couldn't speak. I waved a finger as if to say "we'll know in a minute" and the tears started to fall.

She scooted away quickly realizing something big was happening.

I watched his oxygen saturation fall to 30%. Then it was suddenly in the 90s. The nurses smiled and I realized he was breathing. Reintubated. I decided perhaps I should try the breathing thing as well.

They called me over and told me to look- he was fine. They said he needed a kiss on the head. I wiped my tears and leaned down to give him one. I still couldn't stop crying.

They kept assuring me he was fine. Totally unaffected. It happens. It won't be the last time.

The nurse had told me a story about another baby who pulled his tube all the time. Drove them all crazy. He just went home a couple of weeks ago. She reminded me of the story.

I told Robbie he was grounded until he was 35. His oxygen stats were 97.. 98.. 100.. They turned his vent down a bit. Stats still 98.. 100.. they turned it down again.

Radiology came to x ray Robbie to make sure his tube was in good position. He got a new feeding tube. His nurse laughed that he timed it so that he wouldn't even miss a feeding. She was right.

The X ray showed it was fine.

My boobs were leaking. I needed to pump. I finally felt like I could walk away- though I didn't like it much.

By the time I got back with my boob juice, he was tucked in and covered and fast asleep. His vent was down to 30% and his sat was stable. More stable than it had been all day.

We sat for quite a while just staring- mostly as his monitor. A half hour went by with no alarms. The nurse said what I was thinking "This is the quietest he's been all day." We all kind of think maybe the tube wasn't in just so.. perhaps he's pulled it just a little loose even earlier than this. Maybe being reintubated was actually good for him. Even if he scared me to death.

I was still feeling a little light headed, but finally reassured. We left a little while later. By the time we got home, exhaustion had overtaken me. I slept.

They keep telling me about the roller coaster of the NICU. Do you think we could change to a kiddie ride?


--Trish