Monday, July 14, 2008

DAY 8: JULY 14, 2008

It just hit me this minute that today Finnian is a week old. I've completely lost track of what day it is over the last week, time has just gone by in a blur.

I think back to when I was pregnant . . . even a week plus a day ago, the day I knew I was in labor and the day I thought he'd be born (he held out until an hour and a half into the following day though). Me and my uber-huge belly, waddling into this little diner with Michael, having lunch, then walking around at the mall to get my labor to move along. I see moments of my pregnancy like flashes . . . the time when Michael and I went on our "cheap date" to the beach one night and laid on a blanket looking at the stars, listening to the waves, and then doing the unthinkable right there on the beach, pregnant and all, and laughing so hard about it that I thought I might pee my pants . . . texting him the news that I was pregnant again . . . eagerly anticipating my next prenatal appointment with Sue each month . . . seeing the ultrasound image that told us we were going to have another boy and even the score in our house . . . getting a pregnancy massage . . . lamenting about the heartburn, the discomfort of my gigantic belly and the back aches, and then the new stretch marks that none of my other pregnancies gave me. And through all of that, I was blissfully unaware of what lay ahead. There's a part of me that wishes I could go back to that suspended state. There's a part of me that wonders if we bring him home from the hospital when he's all better, and treat him as if he's normal, won't that make it so? (No, I know that's crazy talking, but still, the part of me that wants to deny this whole thing wonders if it would work.)


There are people in my life who just want me to be happy, who want me to see the bright side in all of this. People who send me emails with lots of exclamation points and smilies. I don't have the energy to make them feel better by acting happy when I'm falling apart inside. I don't have the energy to make pleasant conversation with anyone, or to act interested in anything that's going on with anyone else - right now I'm only interested in my baby and getting through this minute by minute, hour by hour. The only person I really want to talk to is Michael. He's my anchor right now, and he's the only one who really "gets" me (even if he does think I'm nuts - but he thought I was nuts before all this, so it's okay).


Finnian is doing very well. Really, he's making great strides in his recovery. Today he was moved into a crib, although he's still in his private room. But I don't think his still being in the private room has anything to do with his progress at this point, I get the impression that they're just waiting for a baby in more critical condition to be admitted and need the private room.

Today, a day earlier than anticipated, the doctor gave the okay to attempt oral feeds. So first they tried giving him Infalyte, which I guess is a clear fluid. Neither Michael nor I were there when this took place, but I went to see him this afternoon and got the rundown from his nurse. She said he got really mad when they tried the Infalyte, screaming and pushing the nipple out of his mouth. She said that Infalyte doesn't taste very good and a lot of babies reject it. So she got the okay to try some colostrum in a bottle, and I was there for that. He didn't get upset, but he wouldn't take it either. I stood by and cried the whole time, while a psychologist stood and talked to me and patted my shoulder (it wasn't helpful). The nurse explained to me that because he hasn't taken oral feeds since the day he was born, he has to relearn it, which makes sense. But it also feels like one more obstacle to overcome. She assured me that they have a whole "feeding team" that would get involved if it becomes a real issue, but that we need to give it some time.

I held him for a long time, and tried to feed him with the bottle, and he wouldn't take it. The biggest problem, it seems to me, is that he's soooo sleepy all the time. To the point that it is concerning me. I've yet to see him just lie awake and alert, looking around. He's always sleeping. He fusses and cries when his diaper is changed, but then goes right back to sleep.


Michael went to the hospital tonight to see Finn. Here's a text message from him:

"He's eating. He's on his third seven of 7 ccs today. He has not thrown up. He's taking from a bottle fairly well, stuff dated 7/8. And he's been pretty awake, but starting to nod out. Nurse said bilirubin and high blood count can make lethargic. Not related to downs."

This was the best news all day.


Anonymous said...

I have read every single word you've written so far and you know what? This is my favorite post. So real. So raw. So honest. Very powerful. In short, fucking fantastic.

So glad Finn seems to be doing well.

No smileys, no (((hugs))), no well wishes, no lovey dovey, no mush. Just me telling you what I thought while reading your latest entry.


T-rex said...

If anyone expects you to act ANY way but exhausted, stressed, disappointed and anxious they're crazy. Everyone wants to look on the bright side of such situations, it's just the nature of trying to offer comfort - we're all abysmally bad at it and afraid it's not going to help one bit, but feel we need to offer support nonetheless because we care.

His health is GREAT news, and while the feeding issues are annoying, especially given that he was latching on well the first day, that he took a real bottle tonight is so wonderful, I squeaked just reading it. Baby steps forward for him, but they're steps forward nonetheless.

Marcy said...

This has been the best news yet. T-rex and said it just right. Just thoughts and it's hard to say the right thing right now to a person who is upset; but we are here to read on and be supportive.

So glad he is eating.

Joe said...

Lisa, you wrote: "There's a part of me that wonders if we bring him home from the hospital when he's all better, and treat him as if he's normal, won't that make it so? (No, I know that's crazy talking, but still, the part of me that wants to deny this whole thing wonders if it would work.)"

You're on the right track with that wonderful thought, my sweet daughter in law..! Appealing and responding to the best and healthy side in every kid, and loving them and believing in them makes every kid live up to their best potential and beyond. It's already worked with your first amazing five, and now your miracle work continues. And of course, we know that one day way down the line you'll be heading up organizations to share and inspire other moms to believe in their own miracles, like you always do.