Thursday, August 6
Mark and I "woke up" around 5:00 am (meaning, we never really got to sleep in the first place) and got ready to head out to the hospital for my c-section. How odd it was driving to the hospital... no contractions, no sign the baby was ready to come out, but knowing I would meet him in just a few hours. I get there and prepare to make the hospital my home for the next little while (or so I thought, the next little while). I get an IV started, the doctor asks me if I am allergic to any medication, and I tell him penicillin. He decides to give me Keflex, since only about 10% of patients who are allergic to penicillin have a cross-reaction to Keflex. I get counseled by the respiratory therapist about taking deep breaths after surgery to prevent pneumonia (if only she could have coached little Boston too). She's talking to me, and all of a sudden I totally blank out. The moment the drug hits my circulation, my BP drops to 67/38 mmHg, the baby's heart rate plummets, and I go out. Next thing I know, there's several nurses, my OB, and my anesthesiologist surrounding me trying to divine what the crap happened. Dr. Szentes, my OB, orders them to take the Keflex off immediately, and replaces it with clindamycin (which is the typical substitute for penicillin-allergic patients). I do just fine. Then I'm wheeled into the OR (Mark looks absolutely ill at this point). I am getting ready for the spinal injection, which was honestly the only part I was nervous for (it's a blind injection, and I really don't want to be paralyzed or die). The anesthesiologist was AWESOME! She takes a pen and draws the pattern of my vertebrae on my back and goes in with the anesthetic. I was expecting it to be very uncomfortable (after all, I wasn't side-tracked by horrible contractions like most women are at this point), but it wasn't bad at all. I get all numbed up, and just as they start telling me I need to get my legs up on the table before they go completely numb, I go out again. When I wake up, I turn to the anesthesiologist and say, "I guess I do kind of pass out easily, huh." She says, "Yes, I would say so." The surgery goes great - I didn't even know they were doing anything yet until I was told they were going to start pushing on my abdomen to get the baby out. Then I hear the cutest little sound in the world, and my OB shows me Boston over the top of the drape. The first night with Boston was fabulous. He never cried, and we never put him down all night. We just took turns holding him (neither of us slept at all) and couldn't believe we finally had our little boy.
Friday, August 7
The pediatrician comes in and looks at Boston first thing in the morning. Everything seems to be well with him. I try and try to learn to feed the little guy, but he has no interest at all. I call in the lactation specialist for some advice. She gets him all naked (except for his diaper) since she says babies won't do it if they are perfectly warm and comfortable. She brings him over to me to try again and notices that he is breathing extremely rapidly. She puts an end to the feeding and orders him into the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit) to be examined. They hook him up to the EKG and pulse ox and find that he is getting only 80% oxygen saturation and his respirations are in the 120s and higher (they are supposed to be well below 60). They start him on oxygen, but it doesn't seem to be doing much. They decide to hook him up to vapotherm oxygen instead (a vaporized form of oxygen). He's on a four liter flow, and that combined with his respirations means they cannot feed him even thru a tube. They take a chest xray that shows infiltration of fluid, and his blood work shows the possibility of the beginning of an infection. They start an IV (which takes them like two hours to do - they stuck him SO many times and had to call in someone special to do it). They tell us he will most likely be on IV antibiotics for the next seven to ten days. We sat in the NICU all night (unable to hold him because of the vapotherm) and just talked to him and looked at him.
Saturday, August 8
He seems to be doing well on the vapotherm. At least his oxygen saturation is up where it needs to be. But Boston is still breathing very rapidly and is unable to feed. Mark and I are in the NICU all day. Once again, I ask to hold him and they tell me I can't. Then they say they are going to try to turn down his flow to two liters so he can at least eat thru a tube (yes, I hate to think he's three days old and hasn't had any food yet at all). They try, but he responds very poorly to it. So they put him back up. We really want to give the little guy a blessing, but the NICU is full of nurses and people, and we can't ask the nurse to leave. I tell Mark to go ahead and bless him silently, so he does. I decide to take a little break from the NICU (I haven't slept at all since the baby was born on Thursday) and let Mark take vigil. A few hours later, I head back to the NICU to find Mark holding Boston and singing primary songs to him. The nurse turns to me and says, "Are you going to hate me?" She tells me that Mark insisted on holding him, and that ever since he has been breathing at a normal rate. He really responded to his daddy holding him. I think, yeah, that in combination with the blessing and his daddy singing primary songs for two hours straight (and losing his voice). This really seemed to be Boston's turning point. Over the course of that night into the morning, they weaned Boston completely off of the vapotherm.
Sunday, August 9
The on-call pediatrician is in that day and examines Boston. We find out that his billirubin levels are high (he has jaundice) and will have to be on the "billi-blanket." Oh, well, one minor little thing to deal with. He tells us he appears to be a very healthy baby, but that he is merely just breathing too quickly. He gives the go ahead for a feeding tube (yeah!). He also tells us that if the chest xray they are set to repeat today comes back clear, we may be able to take him home the next day. They go ahead and put the feeding tube in, and this is when we find out Boston's true nature (although him fighting the IV should have given us an indication as well). I have never seen such a strong newborn in my life! And neither had any of the nurses. They go to put the tube down his nose (which is TINY) and he thrashes around like you would not believe. Turns left and right, arches his back, anything he can think of. So the nurse props his head in her hands, thinking to make it impossible for him to move out of the way. Boston can't move his head since she's holding it firm in place, so he digs his tiny little heels into the crib and pushes off. He turns his body at least 90 degrees around (he looked like a little break dancing baby doing it). The nurses are totally flabbergasted - no newborn should have this much strength and control. I am so happy to see this. My little boy is a fighter! I knew everything would be alright eventually.
Monday, August 10
Boston's chest xray comes back improved but not clear. His blood work is clear, which indicates there was infection that has improved from the antibiotics. They declare that he does have pneumonia, and would have to continue the therapy at least until Thursday. I am completely disheartened, because I was so sure we would be released today. But Boston is doing well today. However, at night things seem to fall apart. The treatment for jaundice is usually not a big deal - just stick a little light to the baby's back for a few days and all is well. But when you have a baby who is having respiratory problems, the heat from the billi-blanket only makes them breathe more quickly. So tonight Boston's numbers are off the charts again. So much progress, and now he seems to be reverting. Although his oxygen saturation is still normal, which is good. To make matters worse, the nurse who is here tonight in the NICU seems little more than incompetent. She is loud, intense, and overwhelmed by what's going on. She literally runs into and out of the room, clomping her Danskos as she goes, which startles Boston every time. On top of that, Boston is already overheated by the billi-blanket, and she has him wrapped in blankets. Any chance I get, I unwrap him and let him breathe. Boston is stressed, and his numbers show it. I didn't leave the NICU all night except to pump. I didn't dare.
Tuesday, August 11
Mom and Dad fly in today to help with Boston. He does seem better in the morning (a change of nurse may have had something to do with this). His billirubin levels are normal now, so they take him off the billi-blanket, and this really helps with his breathing. I request to the day-time nurse that we have a different nurse than last night. I tell her that she seemed extremely stressed by Boston (who pulled his IV and feeding tube out because she wasn't watching him!), and that it made me nervous, so I got no rest at all. She doesn't seem surprised to hear it and says she will make the request for me. The doctor is in again today and tells us Boston is doing great. He gives us the go-ahead to have Boston room in with us now. He can take out his feeding tube and be strictly breastfed. So it didn't matter after all which nurse was on tonight, since I am the one taking care of him. Hallelujah! My mom gets to spend the day with us in our little "hospital hotel room." But my dad wasn't feeling well, so he stayed at our house and didn't get a chance to meet Boston yet.
Wednesday, August 12
I am with Mark, my mom, and most importantly, Boston all day. Boston is doing great! We are just awaiting the next day for him to finish his antibiotics and be sent home at last. It is a great day all-in-all. Until the evening... Mark gets a panicked phone call from my dad, who has been alone at my house the whole day. My dad says he can't breathe, and Mark can tell he's in trouble. Since we live about five minutes from the hospital, Mark and my mom rush over there, and my dad is in definite respiratory distress. He is hyperventilating. He says he wants to go to a quick care, but Mark drives to the emergency room instead (so my dad is in one wing of the hospital and I in another). They hook him up to oxygen and an EKG. They do a CT scan. They tell him that his EKG suggests a past heart attack, which my dad was unaware that he ever had. They find a mass on his thyroid, and he is in definite respiratory distress, which they believe is attributable to COPD. They ambulance him over to St. Francis Hospital in Greenwood. I spend a sleepless night alone with a little boy who is having a total struggle with breastfeeding.
Thursday, August 13
My dad is still in the hospital. They are running all sorts of tests on him, doing a full work up with every specialty of medicine there is. They are taking excellent care of him, which is more than I can say for the doctors in Vegas. They find that his breathing difficulty was due to a massive asthma attack (which he didn't know he had, but that has progressed to COPD). They decide to keep him another night. Meanwhile, little Boston finally gets released today! We were so excited to take our little boy home at last! As a side note, in the midst of all this stress, I had absolutely no pain from the c-section (I think my body refused to allow it, with what I had to deal with), and didn't have to take any drugs other than Aleve. But I did break out with cold sores to rival even Camilla Ann's (and that's saying something, isn't it, Cami?!).
So, how was YOUR week?
It almost looks like he is smiling here, now that he is all nice and warm...
Here he is after his bath, after he is all lathered up in Baby Magic. He hates that part too, and not just because he is exposed. I made sure to keep him in as much as the towel as possible, but every time I put lotion on him, he once again screams bloody murder. You'd think I was torturing the poor kid.
Just another shot of the cutest boy ever! I just love this little guy!
