I called to check on Robbie about 4 this morning and he was doing well.
They had given him a glycerin last night while we were there (Essentially a lubricating enema. Poor baby.. but pooping takes a lot of muscles that he just doesn't have. The look on his face after she did it was hysterical. He didn't cry, but he did look.......surprised. She apologized to him for the violation. I couldn't help but giggle.) and apparently it did the trick. I don't know what qualifies as big from a 1lb 9oz baby, but both his night nurse and day nurse have described it as "huge" and "enormous" And since then, he's taken his feedings better. It seems he's probably going to require a glycerin/day to keep him pooping.
Honestly, considering the the complications involved if he can't poop, if all it takes is a glycerin, I'm thanking my lucky stars.
Anyway, I was also wondering what his blood sugar was. I'm not down with what is good vs what is bad, but I do know that yesterday morning it was a little after 200 and that was bad. Last night it was 177 which was bettter but still a bit high. They tell me he "tends towards the sweet side anyway" so they'll tolerate into the 150's and 160's for him because he's sort of stayed that way the whole time, but this morning it was actually 122, which pleased them greatly.
She had also backed off on his oxygen even more- 21%. That's really low. So in other words- he's doing great. She sounded very pleased this morning.
I think we're going to attempt to Kangaroo him today.
That leads me to another big thank you for some friends.
The internet strikes again. I'm a member of another message board (not baby related) and they put together what I can only call a mobile baby shower for me yesterday. As it happens, a couple of the girls from the board live within an hour of me, and they came to take me to lunch and brought with them bags & bags of stuff. Included in it is a REALLY great double thick baby blanket. (Also: onesies, hats, a sterilizer, a REALLY awesome big diaper bag, sleepers, pacis, socks, diapers.. the list goes on.)
The nurse yesterday recommended trying to find a really heavy baby blanket for the next time and this is ideal. I washed it early this morning, so it's ready to go. I think our plan is to get him out and take his temperature at 15 minutes to check him. That would be a very short Kangaroo time considering it's actually no easy feat to get him out, but his nurse is willing to do it. And 15 minutes is better than 0.
Also, I got a little bit of sleep. Maybe 5 1/2 or 6 hours, and not all at once, but wow, what a difference a few hours can make. Between the sleep & good news this morning, I feel about 8 billion times better than I did last night.
Everyone who has been through this keeps warning me not to focus on the bad days. I hope I can learn to do that. Yesterday was a rough one. Today is going to be better.
--Trish
Sunday, June 8, 2008
Saturday, June 7, 2008
Tired
We're back from the hospital.
It seems they're now leaning back towards it being an infection. Robbie's blood sugar is lower than it was, but still a tad bit high.
A culture of his blood and sputum have been sent- they'll take 48 hours to grow. We'll expect some better answers on Monday night. Of course, that seems like a million years away.
He was fussy tonight, never settling down to sleep for very long. I tried to comfort him as best I could with just my hands on his head and feet. It feels like so little. I was frustrated at first. She had him bundled so well which is wonderful, but the way he was laying I couldn't see his sweet little face so I couldn't tell when he was crying or just wiggling.
Finally it was time for his cares. I took his temperature and changed his diaper. Then I helped weigh him. He's up an ounce again. 700 grams. 1 lb 9 oz. She said that's right on track.
I felt confused abou the infection. She seemed as though it was commonplace "He might have an infection every few weeks. It happens. Really normal." But then when discussing the cultures, she talked about an infection in his lungs and if it were that, the only real way to treat it is to pull his vent and he's not ready for that. In the end, I left just as worried as when I arrived.
She said the night nurse definitely did the right thing in starting the antibiotics. I guess she struggled with the decision a bit, unsure if it was just cold stress but they've decided it probably is infection and it's good she did the right thing. I'll thank her profusely the next time I see her.
I'm exhausted. Bone chillingly exhausted. I'm pumping my boobs as I type (I guess I'm an expert now. I've figured out how to attach and prop things so that I can free my hands while pumping.) I'm hoping a few hours of sleep will help my attitude. I've felt so positive this last week but today has worn on me. I look at myself in the mirror and am surprised at how sunken my eyes seem.
I'm actually so tired that I fell asleep with my head on Robbie's isolette. He was getting too cold for me to have his portholes open. I couldn't even comfort him when he cried. Even my voice seemed to aggravate him tonight. In the end, all I could do was lay my head on his isolette and hope that my love was coming through psychically. My husband woke me saying I had to go home and sleep. I couldn't really argue.
As soon as my boobs have unloaded their latest meal and I've prepared for them to unload their next, I'm going to bed. I may even let myself sleep 4 hours. I'm producing a lot more milk than Robbie can eat right now, so I'm going to try to take advantage w/o messing up my supply.
Hopefully that will renew my faith & hope. I'm sure it's still in there. Just like me, it's too tired to speak.
--Trish
It seems they're now leaning back towards it being an infection. Robbie's blood sugar is lower than it was, but still a tad bit high.
A culture of his blood and sputum have been sent- they'll take 48 hours to grow. We'll expect some better answers on Monday night. Of course, that seems like a million years away.
He was fussy tonight, never settling down to sleep for very long. I tried to comfort him as best I could with just my hands on his head and feet. It feels like so little. I was frustrated at first. She had him bundled so well which is wonderful, but the way he was laying I couldn't see his sweet little face so I couldn't tell when he was crying or just wiggling.
Finally it was time for his cares. I took his temperature and changed his diaper. Then I helped weigh him. He's up an ounce again. 700 grams. 1 lb 9 oz. She said that's right on track.
I felt confused abou the infection. She seemed as though it was commonplace "He might have an infection every few weeks. It happens. Really normal." But then when discussing the cultures, she talked about an infection in his lungs and if it were that, the only real way to treat it is to pull his vent and he's not ready for that. In the end, I left just as worried as when I arrived.
She said the night nurse definitely did the right thing in starting the antibiotics. I guess she struggled with the decision a bit, unsure if it was just cold stress but they've decided it probably is infection and it's good she did the right thing. I'll thank her profusely the next time I see her.
I'm exhausted. Bone chillingly exhausted. I'm pumping my boobs as I type (I guess I'm an expert now. I've figured out how to attach and prop things so that I can free my hands while pumping.) I'm hoping a few hours of sleep will help my attitude. I've felt so positive this last week but today has worn on me. I look at myself in the mirror and am surprised at how sunken my eyes seem.
I'm actually so tired that I fell asleep with my head on Robbie's isolette. He was getting too cold for me to have his portholes open. I couldn't even comfort him when he cried. Even my voice seemed to aggravate him tonight. In the end, all I could do was lay my head on his isolette and hope that my love was coming through psychically. My husband woke me saying I had to go home and sleep. I couldn't really argue.
As soon as my boobs have unloaded their latest meal and I've prepared for them to unload their next, I'm going to bed. I may even let myself sleep 4 hours. I'm producing a lot more milk than Robbie can eat right now, so I'm going to try to take advantage w/o messing up my supply.
Hopefully that will renew my faith & hope. I'm sure it's still in there. Just like me, it's too tired to speak.
--Trish
update
A small update, in the right direction.
I spoke w/Robbie's day nurse a few minutes ago.
His repeat CBC was about the same. From what she says, it's very, very slightly off. She said if he hadn't exhibited other signs (namely the blood sugar) they wouldn't have treated him at all. And the signs he has could actually be cold stress and he got QUITE cold during Kangaroo care.
She said he's alert, active and happy this morning so that whatever is going on hasn't affected him too much, so that's a good sign.
All his other bloodwork from the morning looked good as well.
So right now we're hoping it was cold stress and is resolving on its own.
We do know that we will have to be super careful about holding him for a while- probably not doing it at all. I did a bit of reading in my panic this morning and there seems to be mostly positive opinions that even just touching him in good ways can benefit him as well.. so I will probably just opt to keep my hands on him as much as possible. It's not as good and skin to skin care, but it's something. And keeping his warm is the bigger priority right now.
--Trish
I spoke w/Robbie's day nurse a few minutes ago.
His repeat CBC was about the same. From what she says, it's very, very slightly off. She said if he hadn't exhibited other signs (namely the blood sugar) they wouldn't have treated him at all. And the signs he has could actually be cold stress and he got QUITE cold during Kangaroo care.
She said he's alert, active and happy this morning so that whatever is going on hasn't affected him too much, so that's a good sign.
All his other bloodwork from the morning looked good as well.
So right now we're hoping it was cold stress and is resolving on its own.
We do know that we will have to be super careful about holding him for a while- probably not doing it at all. I did a bit of reading in my panic this morning and there seems to be mostly positive opinions that even just touching him in good ways can benefit him as well.. so I will probably just opt to keep my hands on him as much as possible. It's not as good and skin to skin care, but it's something. And keeping his warm is the bigger priority right now.
--Trish
Set back
Called Robbie's night nurse for my usual morning report.
She said that he was doing okay but that after we left last night she started him on antibiotics. He got really cold while David was holding him. She said she got his temp back up quickly, but then his blood sugar was high. I guess those are signs of infection.
She got a CBC and it showed the start of something so he's now on 2 antibiotics.
I started crying right away. They warned me that he would likely have 2 or 3 infections during his stay in the NICU- he's just so small and his immune system isn't developed. But damn it, he's only been here a week. I really hoped this wouldn't happen for a while.
She repeated the CBC to see how he's doing and said we'd need to talk to the nurse when we got in about getting him out. I, obviously want him to be healthy. They're very big on the Kangaroo time being good for his development, so it's this debate about what is better for him. Obviously we can wait on holding him for ourselves.
The only thing I can think to do is not to hold him, but spend a lot of time with my hands on him in his isolette. Hopefully it's the healing power of touch that can do a little something similar to Kangaroo time until he can bulk up a bit and maintain his temp a bit better.
I just hate thinking that it was us holding him that made him sick.
I really want to drive up there to see him right now. I hate that he's so far away.
Please pray that this infection was caught early and is easily cured. Being sick is really bad for him. When he doesn't feel well his body will use calories to help fight infection so it's not just the being sick that is bad.. it also can affect his weight gain.. which in turn makes him more likely to be sick.
Speaking of weight- she did officially put him at 1lb 8oz this morning, so he is up a bit. But he still needs much more.
--Trish
She said that he was doing okay but that after we left last night she started him on antibiotics. He got really cold while David was holding him. She said she got his temp back up quickly, but then his blood sugar was high. I guess those are signs of infection.
She got a CBC and it showed the start of something so he's now on 2 antibiotics.
I started crying right away. They warned me that he would likely have 2 or 3 infections during his stay in the NICU- he's just so small and his immune system isn't developed. But damn it, he's only been here a week. I really hoped this wouldn't happen for a while.
She repeated the CBC to see how he's doing and said we'd need to talk to the nurse when we got in about getting him out. I, obviously want him to be healthy. They're very big on the Kangaroo time being good for his development, so it's this debate about what is better for him. Obviously we can wait on holding him for ourselves.
The only thing I can think to do is not to hold him, but spend a lot of time with my hands on him in his isolette. Hopefully it's the healing power of touch that can do a little something similar to Kangaroo time until he can bulk up a bit and maintain his temp a bit better.
I just hate thinking that it was us holding him that made him sick.
I really want to drive up there to see him right now. I hate that he's so far away.
Please pray that this infection was caught early and is easily cured. Being sick is really bad for him. When he doesn't feel well his body will use calories to help fight infection so it's not just the being sick that is bad.. it also can affect his weight gain.. which in turn makes him more likely to be sick.
Speaking of weight- she did officially put him at 1lb 8oz this morning, so he is up a bit. But he still needs much more.
--Trish
6 days
Sorry for no night post last night. I spent about 7 hours at the hospital, then we had dinner and fell asleep on the car ride home. I did a few things when we got home, and then fell asleep on the couch. I managed to miss a pumping session, even. Fortunately when I got up, my boobs more than made up for it.
Speaking of boobs, the nurses asked me not to bring any more milk in for a while. Apparently I have so much in the fridge in the NICU that they're running out of room. So they'll take what I pump while I'm at the hospital, but everything I pump at home goes to the freezer for the time when Robbie might actually catch up to me. I have rock star boobs.
Anyway, today was my first day as a mom of a NICU baby that wasn't in the hospital. I wasn't really sure what to expect. I had a little bit of a rough morning being reliant on someone else to drive me around. I REALLY hate feeling like a burden and my dad- who had volunteered to take me to the hospital- sort of snapped at me about wanting to go to the pharmacy to fill my meds (yeah. My BP this morning was at 150/105 again. I REALLY needed my meds.) So I had a little cry. But then my dad got over himself.
I found out later that he's trying to quit smoking and has been 4 days w/o a cigarette. I think he's just snappy in general- not snappy with me.
My dad picked me up and I got my meds filled and we headed to the hospital. I was very nervous because today was the day they were doing the ultrasound to look for brain bleeds. Brain bleeds aren't uncommon in preemies, particularly preemies as early as Robbie. The nurse on Wednesday's day shift had said that it's usually more of a problem for babies who were in distress of suffered some sort of trauma in utero which Robbie didn't, but still. You can't talk about brain bleeding and my baby in the same sentence w/o putting a hurt in the pit of my stomach.
It started storming like mad just as we got to the hospital. The power eventually went out. I was mostly oblivious because of course everything in the NICU is on a backup, but the hospital was pretty much on shut down. They weren't even really letting people in the hallways.
They had just done the ultrasound shortly before I arrived but the radiologists hadn't read them yet. I was told it would likely be the end of the day before we knew. I commenced mentally chewing my fingernails.
It was busy in the NICU today. Robbie got a new neighbor to his right- a 36 weeker whose mommy has type I diabetes. (Don't worry, there were no HIPPA violations. His mommy told me about it, not the staff.) He's a fat little baby and was too adorable for words.
His neighbor to the left was the same. Her mommy spent most of the day doing kangaroo care. And she had what I think was her mom with her, too. My dad was with me. We're all in a corner so it's a little bit tight quarters, but fortunately all the moms were very considerate and we managed.
I talked to Robbie most of the day. At one point he had to have a glucose test which meant a heel stick. He didn't appreciate that and I spent the nest hour trying to keep him calm. As long as I'd sing, he was fine, but let me pause to take a drink of water and he'd cry again.
He is reintubated, so he can't really cry audibly, but his little face scrunches up and he sticks his tongue out and really furrows his brow. It brakes my heart. All I want to do is pick him up and hold him close. Instead I cup his head in one hand and put a little pressure on his butt with the other- trying to make him feel safe.
His nurse had me take his temperature and change his diaper. The nurse practitioner came by to tell me that they still didn't have his test results because the power was still out to the lab. I tried to be patient.
I got the chance to use one of the family rooms to pump. At least 3 times someone knocked on the door (despite the sign that says "occupide." Yes. Occupide. As opposed to occupied.) and gave me a heart attack that someone was going to walk in on me hooked up like a dairy cow.
Oh- I had a bit of a laugh. My dad was standing in the NICU with me when it was time to pump. I said "Well it's time to go make him some dinner." My dad says "oh..I'll step out." Mind you, I'm in a VERY large NICU- we're talking about 80 babies and all the people that go with them. I looked at him funny and said "What am I going to whip 'em out right here?" and he said it seemed like the place to do it. ??? Um. No, dad, there are rooms for that. My dad is very pro-breast feeding so I guess he thinks it would be fine if I chose to do so, but no thank you.
Anyway, after I got back from nursing, the NP found me again and said she'd been looking for me when I went to pump. Doesn't it just figure?
And............NO BLEEDS!
YAY!!
She said his brain was immature but otherwise fine. My dad freaked out about "immature." He asked pensively what that meant. "It means he was born 14 weeks early dad." He's driving me a little bit crazy being freaked out by normal things. I offered him a copy of our book on preemies hoping to calm some of it down but he says he doesn't want to know. I guess he just prefers to just be paranoid all the time. I suppose I shouldn't judge since you all know I was like that when I was pregnant. But it's frustrating when he asks me how things are and then says he wished he didn't know. Then stop asking.
About that time they decided that Robbie would get to Kangaroo tonight and offered to do it right then. It was all I had to say no. I wanted David to have the chance. So we waited.
David got there after work and we hung out. His nurses got really busy with another baby and couldn't get back to us for a while. Both of us were getting more and more tired by the minute.
Finally it was time. I was giddy as could be. David had never held ANY baby before, let alone his newborn son. We got him situated in the chair and the nurses prepared Robbie.
They stuffed Robbie down David's shirt- very kangaroo style indeed. Robbie was in bliss. David seemed unsure. I asked what he thought. He kept saying "It's different." "He's not too squirmy." "He's good." Then he got sleepy and started to nod off. I can understand the sentiment. There's something so relaxing about having your baby on your chest.
Robbie's stats kept going on. His oxygen saturation kept spiking to 100, making his alarm go off. Robbie was clearly enjoying this.
In the end, David held him a little more than a half an hour. I was getting worried about Robbie's body temperature and David was getting fidgety and making me nervous.
They put him back in his isolette and we told him goodnight and left. What a wonderful evening.
Tomorrow I plan to actually try to get a few things done. Some friends are coming to take me to lunch and I think we might go by Old Navy to return the maternity clothes that came while I was in the hospital. I'm hoping to exchange them for baby stuff. And maybe even a thing or two for myself if they have plus sizes in the store.
David has to mow. If you saw our yard, you'd be stunned. I'm surprised some of my neighbors haven't called the city to complain.
Then we'll visit the Tater. I hate to leave him alone during the day, but I know he's being well cared for.
Without further adieu- pictures!
Mommy gets me calmed down after a heel stick:
I managed to pee out of my diaper and had to get changed again:
I don't see what's so funny about nearly being eaten by a giant hat but all those mean nurses and my mommy & daddy laughed and laughed.
Daddy finally gets to hold me:
If I'd gotten to finish cooking, I'd have probably had a LOT of hair:
You can't quite see it, but Im chewing on my thumb a little:
This is awesome:
Geez. Can't a celebrity get a moment's peace?
--Trish
Speaking of boobs, the nurses asked me not to bring any more milk in for a while. Apparently I have so much in the fridge in the NICU that they're running out of room. So they'll take what I pump while I'm at the hospital, but everything I pump at home goes to the freezer for the time when Robbie might actually catch up to me. I have rock star boobs.
Anyway, today was my first day as a mom of a NICU baby that wasn't in the hospital. I wasn't really sure what to expect. I had a little bit of a rough morning being reliant on someone else to drive me around. I REALLY hate feeling like a burden and my dad- who had volunteered to take me to the hospital- sort of snapped at me about wanting to go to the pharmacy to fill my meds (yeah. My BP this morning was at 150/105 again. I REALLY needed my meds.) So I had a little cry. But then my dad got over himself.
I found out later that he's trying to quit smoking and has been 4 days w/o a cigarette. I think he's just snappy in general- not snappy with me.
My dad picked me up and I got my meds filled and we headed to the hospital. I was very nervous because today was the day they were doing the ultrasound to look for brain bleeds. Brain bleeds aren't uncommon in preemies, particularly preemies as early as Robbie. The nurse on Wednesday's day shift had said that it's usually more of a problem for babies who were in distress of suffered some sort of trauma in utero which Robbie didn't, but still. You can't talk about brain bleeding and my baby in the same sentence w/o putting a hurt in the pit of my stomach.
It started storming like mad just as we got to the hospital. The power eventually went out. I was mostly oblivious because of course everything in the NICU is on a backup, but the hospital was pretty much on shut down. They weren't even really letting people in the hallways.
They had just done the ultrasound shortly before I arrived but the radiologists hadn't read them yet. I was told it would likely be the end of the day before we knew. I commenced mentally chewing my fingernails.
It was busy in the NICU today. Robbie got a new neighbor to his right- a 36 weeker whose mommy has type I diabetes. (Don't worry, there were no HIPPA violations. His mommy told me about it, not the staff.) He's a fat little baby and was too adorable for words.
His neighbor to the left was the same. Her mommy spent most of the day doing kangaroo care. And she had what I think was her mom with her, too. My dad was with me. We're all in a corner so it's a little bit tight quarters, but fortunately all the moms were very considerate and we managed.
I talked to Robbie most of the day. At one point he had to have a glucose test which meant a heel stick. He didn't appreciate that and I spent the nest hour trying to keep him calm. As long as I'd sing, he was fine, but let me pause to take a drink of water and he'd cry again.
He is reintubated, so he can't really cry audibly, but his little face scrunches up and he sticks his tongue out and really furrows his brow. It brakes my heart. All I want to do is pick him up and hold him close. Instead I cup his head in one hand and put a little pressure on his butt with the other- trying to make him feel safe.
His nurse had me take his temperature and change his diaper. The nurse practitioner came by to tell me that they still didn't have his test results because the power was still out to the lab. I tried to be patient.
I got the chance to use one of the family rooms to pump. At least 3 times someone knocked on the door (despite the sign that says "occupide." Yes. Occupide. As opposed to occupied.) and gave me a heart attack that someone was going to walk in on me hooked up like a dairy cow.
Oh- I had a bit of a laugh. My dad was standing in the NICU with me when it was time to pump. I said "Well it's time to go make him some dinner." My dad says "oh..I'll step out." Mind you, I'm in a VERY large NICU- we're talking about 80 babies and all the people that go with them. I looked at him funny and said "What am I going to whip 'em out right here?" and he said it seemed like the place to do it. ??? Um. No, dad, there are rooms for that. My dad is very pro-breast feeding so I guess he thinks it would be fine if I chose to do so, but no thank you.
Anyway, after I got back from nursing, the NP found me again and said she'd been looking for me when I went to pump. Doesn't it just figure?
And............NO BLEEDS!
YAY!!
She said his brain was immature but otherwise fine. My dad freaked out about "immature." He asked pensively what that meant. "It means he was born 14 weeks early dad." He's driving me a little bit crazy being freaked out by normal things. I offered him a copy of our book on preemies hoping to calm some of it down but he says he doesn't want to know. I guess he just prefers to just be paranoid all the time. I suppose I shouldn't judge since you all know I was like that when I was pregnant. But it's frustrating when he asks me how things are and then says he wished he didn't know. Then stop asking.
About that time they decided that Robbie would get to Kangaroo tonight and offered to do it right then. It was all I had to say no. I wanted David to have the chance. So we waited.
David got there after work and we hung out. His nurses got really busy with another baby and couldn't get back to us for a while. Both of us were getting more and more tired by the minute.
Finally it was time. I was giddy as could be. David had never held ANY baby before, let alone his newborn son. We got him situated in the chair and the nurses prepared Robbie.
They stuffed Robbie down David's shirt- very kangaroo style indeed. Robbie was in bliss. David seemed unsure. I asked what he thought. He kept saying "It's different." "He's not too squirmy." "He's good." Then he got sleepy and started to nod off. I can understand the sentiment. There's something so relaxing about having your baby on your chest.
Robbie's stats kept going on. His oxygen saturation kept spiking to 100, making his alarm go off. Robbie was clearly enjoying this.
In the end, David held him a little more than a half an hour. I was getting worried about Robbie's body temperature and David was getting fidgety and making me nervous.
They put him back in his isolette and we told him goodnight and left. What a wonderful evening.
Tomorrow I plan to actually try to get a few things done. Some friends are coming to take me to lunch and I think we might go by Old Navy to return the maternity clothes that came while I was in the hospital. I'm hoping to exchange them for baby stuff. And maybe even a thing or two for myself if they have plus sizes in the store.
David has to mow. If you saw our yard, you'd be stunned. I'm surprised some of my neighbors haven't called the city to complain.
Then we'll visit the Tater. I hate to leave him alone during the day, but I know he's being well cared for.
Without further adieu- pictures!
Mommy gets me calmed down after a heel stick:
I managed to pee out of my diaper and had to get changed again:
I don't see what's so funny about nearly being eaten by a giant hat but all those mean nurses and my mommy & daddy laughed and laughed.
Daddy finally gets to hold me:
If I'd gotten to finish cooking, I'd have probably had a LOT of hair:
You can't quite see it, but Im chewing on my thumb a little:
This is awesome:
Geez. Can't a celebrity get a moment's peace?
--Trish
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