Pregnancy and Birth VIII

Mr N cried hysterically when we wanted to leave on Tuesday morning. I couldn’t take it, and asked mother-in-law (MIL) to come along to the hospital with us and Mr N. Mr N settled down immediately. We looked through the glass door to show Mr N his sister, but her little crib was empty. My heart stood still. The seconds ticked by in slow motion. I couldn’t move. I couldn’t breath. Blood pounded into my head. It can’t be. We phoned them earlier and she was doing fine. She had a good night! What happened? My husband went in. And called me. She was moved to the back of the NICU. She wasn't the most critical baby anymore. She was doing well! Next to her was a 1.2kg 29-weeker baby. She was doing better than our daughter. Her mom had steroid injections before her birth. I was jealous.

Boeboe got weaned from the CPAP oxygen machine, and was put on normal oxygen through a little pipe in front of the nose. She got more milk, and was given a bottle.

But she vomited it all up and were put back on the gastric tube. It was a long day for Mr N and his grandma at the hospital. My husband took them home, and fetched me later. Our daughter was doing so well.

I was asked if I wanted to breastfeed Boeboe on the Wednesday, day 7. She latched immediately, and drank like a pro. I held her gratefully in my arms. She only drank 30ml, so another 20ml was fed to her through the gastric tube.

Boeboe was incapable of keeping her own temperature up. The heater above her was keeping her alive.

Mr N was having a hard time at home without his mom. We decided that daddy will spend Thursday with him at home. First he took me to the hospital and then went back home after saying hello to his daughter. I sat next to her the whole day. Holding her hand. I read a magazine, but couldn’t consentrate. I breastfed her every three hours. I got a chance to bathe her for the first time. Her IV line was taken off permanently, and all the other wires and tubes temporarily. I touched every arm, every leg, every cm of skin. I looked at her from head to toes for the first time. I counted her toes and touched her nose. I kissed her soft black head and breathed her smell in. She loved the warm water. She lied still, eyes open. She didn’t cry.

That night I felt much more contend. Though it made me depressed that the one nurse said no baby would leave the NICU before the weekend. She laughed at me, like it was the most ridiculous notion. On Friday morning my husband dropped me again at the hospital and came to say hello to his daughter. The doctor was there, and told us it was going very well with her. I asked if it’s going well enough to be taken home? She looked at me for a long time and asked if we’ll look after her and keep her temperature up. I promised, my heart in my throat. The doctor picked up her pen and wrote: Released on her file. I smiled from ear to ear, and asked if I can dress her. My husband went to fetch the car seat and her bag of clothes, which we kept in the car with such high hopes every day.

A nurse came to give Boeboe’s first innoculation. It was sore and she cried. I picked her up and cuddled her. She stopped crying. It felt good.

I dressed her warmly, put her in the car seat and tuck some blankets around her tiny body. Suddenly, my throat closed up. Here she was safe. She had every electronic monitoring device possible hooked up to her. Help was close by. People who knew what to do, were watching her. The nurse noticed my reluctance and encouraged me. She’s young and friendly and sad to see Boeboe go. She told us we must relax, and trust our instincts. We did attend the CPR course through the NICU (given mandatory to all NICU parents). She told us to enjoy our daughter. Her words recovered my confidence. I decided that that’s precisely what we’re going to do. Enjoy our daughter.

When we got home, Mr N was gone. He left for the shops with his granny. We put a sleeping Boeboe in front of us and sat down on the couch, looking at her. She was home. Where she belonged.

Mr N’s whole face lit up when he got home and saw his sister.

He bounced up and down with happiness, having his sister home. He loved her so much. She’s beautiful, he said, even though there was a bald spot on her head, scars on her arms, ankles and head from all the needles. She lives, she’s beautiful, and she’s ours!!!

To be continued…