Pregnancy and Birth VI

I slept better on the second night. I still had the feeling of peace and acceptance in me. The gynae visited me again the next morning. Everything is going well with my own recovery. She said I must hang in there, Boeboe was taken out in time. She’ll be fine. I told the gynae how extremely thankful I was for her timeous intervention. She smiled at me.

I visited my daughter on Saturday morning as soon as I was bathed and dressed. I didn’t feel like fainting from the pain anymore while sitting on the straight, hard chair next to my daughter’s crib. I held her tiny hand and told her very softly how much I loved her. It was quiet and dark in NICU. The nurse said they keep the lights dimmed so that the babies can sleep. The more they cry, the more energy (and thus weight) they wasted. They needed to sleep as much as possible. Boeboe’s crib was the very first one at the door. I found out later that the sickest little baby got that crib. My husband brought his mom and Mr N to visit. They were not allowed inside NICU, so they stared through the glass door at Boeboe. But all that they could see was wires and pipes and a tuft of black hair. But it did Mr N the world of good to see his little sister. At least now he has a visual in his head of where mommy and his sister was. He didn’t feel well, poor boy. The doctor said it’s just a cold with a bad cough. It’s good that he’s not allowed close to his sister. She should not get his cold at that stage.

Boeboe got her very first wash on the Saturday at age 2 days. Things were starting to stabilize. Ventilating her is off the table. Yay!!! She moans a tiny bit less with every breath. She hated the bath and screamed because of the cold. We tried to console her, but hearing our voices caused her to cry hysterically. The nurse asked us to stand a few steps back. We did. And she went quiet and fell asleep. I was shocked beyond belief. It was a terrible feeling to know your child is better off without you. I had this image of Kangaroo care in my head. You have to be there for your prem baby. Talk to them, sing to them, hold them. But the stark reality was so much different. I wasn’t allowed to talk or sing, because the babies needed to sleep. I couldn’t hold my child, because she was too ill. It was difficult not to cry.

They told us to only touch her hand or little foot, as she was too sensitive being touched. Her skin was so paper thin, it may even hurt her. I could see that. Her knuckles shone through white. I could count the veins on her stomach. The ribs were perfectly outlined. The shoulders were just knobbly bones.

I got to change my first nappy for my daughter. It felt fantastic. :-) It was difficult, cleaning the tiny, bony buttocks while trying not the break her thin matchstick legs between my fingers.

The nurse needed to change her bedding and said I could hold her. My heart started to beat very slow and my breath caught in my throat. I wanted to with every cell in my body. But I got to hold her twice on Thursday when she was born. Daddy hasn’t had a turn yet. I turned to him and told him to go ahead, take her from the nurse. She helped us push the wires and tubes out of the way, so that nothing got tangled or pulled out. I watched daddy hold his daughter with so much tenderness it broke my heart. I took some pictures and caught the moment on film forever. He was in tears.

Saturday evening Mr N laid on my bed and slept. It felt heavenly to have his little body close to me. To breath him in again. To watch him sleep. I saw the peace he felt in his heart. I felt like I could breath again. It’s going better with both my children. I was contend.

To be continued…