A Setback

We participated in Gray's care whenever we could.  Daddy got the honor of the first diaper change...

and I did the next one.

We always rotated and shared in the small things that we could do for Gray.  Diaper changes were hard.  Gray was exceptionally wiggly, just like he was in my tummy, and he always got himself tangled in his wires.  Often times he'd set his alarms off because he was so tangled and a sensor would rip off.

The alarms and beeping were constant.  Like background music.  It was overwhelming and at first, a bit scary.  We'd hear an alarm and look up at Gray's monitors asking, "Is that our baby?"  His nurses explained what every wire was for and what every number meant.  It was all so intimidating.  Sometimes, especially while turning him over, I was scared I was going to hurt Gray.  The nurses were all so kind and they'd help me when I wanted it and answer all my questions.

On Monday morning we had followed our usual routine.  It was just before lunch and I had left to pump and then we were going to get something to eat when I was done.  I ran back to the NICU to give the nurse the milk to freeze and Gray's doctor was there.

"Are you mom?"  She asked.
"Yes."  I said looking at her nervously.
"Well, it appears your baby has developed an infection in his intestines.  He's passed bloody stool twice and an x-ray revealed an area of cloudiness in his intestines."
Before she could say anymore I said, "Let me go get my husband."  I handed the nurse next to me my milk and ran out to get Shedrick.

"OK, ready?"  He said.
"NO, there's something wrong!"  I said eyes filling with tears.  "His doctor is in there now.  Get washed up."

Shedrick quickly washed and put a gown on and we returned to Gray's bedside together.

The doctor explained to him, just as she did to me and then she said they needed to place a new IV and administer antibiotics and nutrition again because his feeding tube would be pulled and breast milk stopped.  Then an x-ray technician rolled in to take another x-ray.  We were asked to step back and then I just started to cry.  That helplessness came back.  There wasn't anything I could do.

After the x-ray, the nurses asked if we wanted to stay for the placement of the IV.
"Yes!"  I said.
"Are you sure?"  She asked.  "Sometimes it's not pretty.  Their veins are so tiny it can be very difficult and painful."
"I'm sure."  I said.

Shedrick sat with me and held my hand as they took Gray's paci, dipped it in sugar water and gave it to him.  One nurse held the paci in his mouth the the other placed his IV.  After they were finished the doctor came back and explained to us that the intestines of preemies are underdeveloped and sensitive, therefore, can develop an infection called NEC (Necrotizing Enterocolitis).  She said that NEC is very serious, however, they had caught things early and they were going to be very cautious and monitor him closely with x-rays.

When they left, I just sat next Gray.  Touching him, staring at him, telling him I loved him and to be strong.

After a while, Shedrick finally coaxed me to take a break and get some fresh air and lunch.  We did and I felt a bit better.

That night we packed up our things as we had to return home the following day for my check-up and we decided on a time we had to leave by.

Tuesday morning, we loaded up the car and checked out of the Ronald McDonald House.  We went to visit Gray for an hour or two and then we had to go.  I didn't want to go after the events of the previous day and I contemplated rescheduling my doctor's appointment.  The nurses assured me that he was responding well to the antibiotics and he'd be OK and Shedrick kept telling me that it was really important that I make sure I was doing OK too.  

Before we left we got our first family photo.  I was stalling.  Leaving sucked.  Leaving and not knowing when we'd be able to return really sucked.

Shedrick said to me, "Emma, we really gotta go."
"I know."  I said with more tears flowing.  At that point, I thought I'd be out of tears but I wasn't.

We packed up our belongings, gave Gray lots of lovies, and hit the road.  On our way out of town Shedrick spotted a frozen custard place.  My husband knows me well.  He knows ice cream makes anything better because we stopped for a treat.

Words of Advice

During the tough days after Gray's birth, my mom spent lots of time calling and updating family and friends for us.  Sometimes you just don't feel like talking to lots of people and telling the same story over and over again.  That is perfectly OK.  Talk about it when you're ready.

Having a preemie is a whole different world.  One I was completely unprepared for.  I wanted, needed, searched for, and accepted any advice/positive words/encouragement I could get.

The first bit of encouragement I received was from my auntie.

My mom called me and she said, "Emma, just got off the phone with your auntie and she told me to tell you this, 'In order for you to get through this you need to do two things... be brave and be strong.  Do it for Gray.  If you can do that... you'll be OK.' "

The second bit of positivity I received was from my mom.  She and Shedrick constantly told me to keep in mind that Gray wasn't even supposed to be here yet and that he had a lot of growing and developing to do.

The fact was that Gray was here and because he couldn't grow and develop in my tummy he needed to do so in the NICU.  The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit.  Sounded scary and sad and no fun.

And then mom said, "Think of it as a techno tummy."
And that made me smile.  For whatever reason, Gray couldn't stay in my tummy so he was in the next best place.
"Just think, you get to see what others don't."  She said.
And she was right, I got to see a miracle unfold and grow and develop right before my very eyes.

The power of positive thinking is real.  I adopted these sayings from the very beginning and they helped me tremendously through out our entire NICU experience and after.

Recovering at Home

Going home is a great feeling.

Going home with out my sweet baby boy was hard.

When we got home, my husband and mom set me up in the recliner in the living room.  They put a chair next to me to help me get up and I was surrounded with mountains of pillows, blankets, snacks, water, my phone and my computer.  The recliner had become my parking spot.

After we (and by we I mean my mom and Shedrick) finished organizing everything, we sat down to make a list of the things I'd need.  At the top of my list was a breast pump.  I'd been using the hospital pump and they gave me a hand pump to use until I got one.  I knew which pump I wanted as I had done hours of research.  I also had no bottles, newborn or preemie sized clothes (as we were anticipating a large baby), diapers, wipes, bath stuff... the list went on and on.

The list was finally complete and I was on to tackle the next hurdle... shopping at Walmart.  Hell, who am I kidding, just getting out of my chair, walking, and getting in the car was hard.  I made it.  It hurt.  But I made it.  When we arrived at Walmart, Shedrick dropped mom and I off at the door and parked.  Then we proceeded to find one of those electric-wheelchair-cart things and I was all set.  I can't believe I'm going to share this picture because I look just absolutely awful but I forced a smile and here I am... on our shopping trip.

Shedrick and mom got quite a kick out of my doped up driving abilities.  They laughed so hard at me and I kept yelling, "Don't make me laugh!  It hurts!"  I'll admit, it was pretty funny.  Especially considering I was the girl who crashed my dad's riding lawn mower into the house.

We gathered up all the necessities, including that precious breast pump (there was no way and no need to get EVERYTHING), and we checked out.

Upon returning home, one of our AMAZING friends had left dinner on our porch.  My mom gathered it up and I cracked that pump open and started to brake it in.  At the hospital, I had begun and had been maintaining a 20 minute pump session every three hours and I wasn't about to quit.

The next day, Wednesday, was mom's last day with us.  That feeling a fear crept back just as it did when I left the hospital.  I didn't want her to leave.  How were we going to do it with out her?  Mom cooked for to stock the fridge and freezer.  She cleaned up my house.  And we talked. As we talked I relaxed.  I could do.  I would do it.  I had to do it.  And I had my husband there to do it with me.  We would do it together and again, I felt it, it would be OK.

On Thursday morning mom left.  Our wonderful neighbor and friend gave her a ride to the airport.  The day was filled with naps, mom's homemade food, tears, talking, and more tears.

Every day I called the NICU.  We shared and celebrated every little improvement.  I also talked to our social worker from the hospital.  She had put us on the waiting list for the Ronald McDonald House.  As soon as we got in, we could make the trip to Jackson and I could finally meet Gray.

So there I sat, in my recliner, hoping and praying and waiting.

The Road to Recovery

Recovery is hard.

Recovery can be a long process.

Longer than you imagine and you'd like sometimes.

When I finally came to, it was Sunday morning.

I remember being woken up to say good bye to Gray on Friday evening and I don't remember a thing after that.  On Saturday some friends visited, I was given a breast pump so I could begin pumping (I had made it clear before he was born that I wanted him to breastfeed), I signed a release form for Gray to get donor milk until we got down to Jackson to give him mine, and I took phone calls and text messages and I don't remember any of it.  I only know because I was told these things happened.

On Sunday morning I received another phone call.  It was my mom.  "Guess where I am."  She said.
"I don't know."  I replied unenthusiastically.
"I'm in Atlanta!  And I'll be by you in an hour."  She replied excitedly.
"OK."  I said not completely understanding.
"I gotta go," she said, "my plane is boarding.  I'll see you soon, love you!"
"Love you too!"  I replied and hung up.

I then turned to Shedrick and said, "She's coming here."
"Here?  Like Columbus?"  He said.
"Yep."  I answered.  "She's in Atlanta now."

A look of relief came over his face.  And after about an hour or two she arrived.  I was so happy to see her and Shedrick finally looked like he could relax.  We sat together talking.  Shedrick filled both me and my mom in on what happened and what was going on.  I had so many questions and I kept asking the same ones over and over because I couldn't remember the answers.

"Where is Gray?"  I asked.
"In Jackson."  Shedrick said.
"How far away is that?"  I wanted to know.
"About 3 hours."  He replied.
"When can we go see him?"
"As soon as you're ready Emma.  You have to get better first.  We're not even home yet."  He said.

We had been given the number to the NICU to call and get updates so I asked to call.  I had to ask Shedrick what our pass code was over and over again.  I decided I'd call once in the morning and once at night.  I'd ask for things like his weight, how his feeds were going, and if anything had been changed for the day.  I then asked Shedrick put the picture he took of Gray on my phone so I could look at it whenever I wanted.  He did and I stared at it.  I marveled at the fact that he was so tiny, yet so perfect.  And then I began to cry.

"What's wrong?" asked my mom.
"I'm just sad."  I said

Both my husband and my mother then proceeded to hug me from either side and tell me that it was OK.  It was OK that I was upset because things had not gone the way I had always imagined.  OK that I was frustrated because I had to ask quite frequently about things I know I had already asked and just couldn't remember.  OK that I felt empty because Gray was not with me anymore.  It was OK to hurt.  It was OK, because it would get better.  

Through out this whole process I was continuously checked on by the nurses.  They were amazing.  I wasn't allowed to get out of bed.  I had a cathider, IV's and blood pressure monitors constantly being checked.  I also got blood work done every day, sometimes twice a day.  They helped to manage my pain and checked my incision.

I was very scared to see my incision, but I looked anyways, I was going to have to look when I went home.  Shedrick didn't look.  He wouldn't look.  It bothered him too much.  My nurse peeled the bandages back and as she did and moaned in pain.  When she was finished I looked down where my cute, round pregnant belly used to be.  The incision wasn't as big as I thought it would be.  My belly was swollen and very bruised.  I was bruised from belly button to mid thigh.  My doctor came in he said everything was looking good.  My bruising was from two things: the fact that I had seizures and my muscles where very tightened and tense when I went into surgery and the hospital I was at now required a blood thinner to be given after every C-section to help prevent clotting, but made bruising very easy.  I then received new bandages and was left to rest.

Later that afternoon, our friends came to visit.  They brought me some magazines and toiletries, which were a godsend as I hadn't showered in like 5 days, and gifts for Gray.  They also took Shedrick with them when they left for the day and they made him a homemade dinner of lasagna (his fave) with lots of good conversation.  Our friends made us smile, made us happy, made us feel loved, and made a tough recovery a little bit easier.

Then my dinner came in and I wasn't hungry.  I was upset.  Everyone had left and that empty feeling crept back.  Mom told me to try to eat it but it was alright if I didn't want to eat right then.  My nurse then came in to check on me.

"How are things?"  She asked.
I hated that question.
As I lifted my tear-filled eyes, my mom answered, "She's alright, just a little upset and not very hungry."
"You know..." my nurse replied, "if you want to keep pumping all that milk for Gray you gotta eat."

After she left, I gobbled that meal.  I didn't want to eat.  But it was for Gray.  I wanted to keep making all that milk.  I needed to.

When Shedrick came back from supper he brought us some ice cream.  Amazing what a little treat can do for your spirits.  After we were finish Shedrick went home to get some good sleep and mom stayed with me.

Monday morning came, Shedrick was back, and I was going to have all tubes and wires (minus my IV and monitors) removed.  Then I'd be allowed to shower.  I have never been more excited to shower in my life.  5 days without a shower and I felt disgusting.  My nurse was going to help me and Shedrick had brought me some of my pajamas from home to put on when I was done.  I slid to the edge of my bed and managed to get my feet to the floor but the second I did a loud beeping began.

"They put an alarm on your bed?!"  My nurse said looking quite shocked.
"They have alarms on beds?"  I asked.
"Yep," she said, "but you wouldn't have been able to get up if you wanted to."

After she got the alarm turned off, I was helped to stand and proceed very, very slowly and painstakingly to the bathroom.  I sat on the stool in the shower and washed my hair and the nurse helped me to wash my incision and anywhere else I couldn't reach.  After having through the past week, I wasn't shy about it.

When I finished, I was exhausted, cold,  and I felt very weak.  We put my own, clean pajamas on and back to bed I went.  Mom braided my hair for me so it wouldn't get all snarly from laying in bed.  My IV was replaced and my blood pressure was taken, it was high again.  My doctor came in and told me I'd need medication and I'd continue to be monitored, however, I'd probably be able to go home the next day.  He said I NEEDED to take it easy.

That night we ordered out dinner together and celebrated my last night in the hospital.

On Tuesday morning, mom packed up all my things, Shedrick came back and began to load up the car, and my blood pressure was taken one last time.  It was high... again.  My nurse called my doctor in, as she was unsure if it was a bit too high.  They had me lie on my left side and take it again.  It dropped a bit.  And finally, I was given the OK.  Shedrick was given all my prescriptions: pain and blood pressure meds, vitamins, iron, and miralax.  I signed all my discharge papers, my monitors and my IV were unhooked, and I was helped out of bed, to a wheel chair.

The elevator ride seemed surreal.  Was I really going home?  I was kind of scared. I wouldn't have my awesome doctor and nurses to make sure I was OK.  We reached the ground level and as the big sliding glass doors opened I squinted in the sun light.  And then there they were, waiting by the car to help me, my mom and my husband, yes, it was going to be OK.