Day 97: The Unexpected (part 3)

…This is a continuation of The Unexpected part 1 and part 2…

In addition to having a super quick labor sans epidural (part 1) and Abby being born with a partial vocal cord paralysis have spending 10 days in the hospital (part 2), the biggest unexpected emotions came from being a parent living in a hospital for 10 days.  It’s such a culture shock and something I never fathomed I would be dealing with, but alas I did and I think it’s important for me to purge these emotions.

When I first arrived at the Children’s hospital after myself being released after giving birth, I knew that they had already done tests on Abby and saw the vocal cord paralysis.  This was on a Thursday (the test was done earlier that morning while I was still awaiting my own discharge).  The prognosis was that sometimes these things get better on their own and that we would wait out the weekend and repeat the test (where they shove a camera down her throat as she screams bloody murder) on Monday to see if things were better.  The hopes were that she would be better and that we would get to go home on Tuesday, the latest.  Well, when that didn’t happen, we sort of settled in to living in the hospital.  My mom and grandma were making daily one hour trips to our house to take care of the dog and grab the essentials for us…clothes…toiletries…things for Abby.

One thing that I first realized while living there was that the nurses were there to not only take care of Abby, but to take care of us…scared new parents who took turns crying.  My water bottle was always filled.  Juices and snacks were always brought.  Reminders for us to go eat before the hot food line closed were given.  Extra blankets and pillows were provided.  Every time I pumped they were readily available to refrigerate or freeze my breast milk.

Most of the nurses we had were amazing and so gentle with Abby.  They even took the time to coach us through swaddling and calming and bathing Abby, b/c we were novices with this whole parenthood thing.  They listened to our frustrations about the lack of information from some of the doctors.  They oohed and ahhed over how freaking cute our newborn was b/c well, “Not every newborn baby looks as cute as Abby does.”

There were a couple nights, though, where you could tell that the nurses on duty were novices and were not gentle at all, causing Abby to wake up and wail in the middle of the night as they checked her vitals.  One night I wanted to just tell the nurse to calm down and take it slow…that Abby can read her frustrations.  I mean I understand being a novice myself b/c when I was doing my student teaching I had a lot of frustrating moments, but it’s the only way to really learn.  But sometimes you have to take a step back and calm down before proceeding, but this one nurse didn’t.  Let’s just say we didn’t have to deal with her anymore.

Overall, though, I am so amazed at the strength these nurses must have to be willing and wanting to take care of sick children.  It takes such a special person to do this and I don’t think I ever could.  I mean we had a positive outcome with Abby, but there are so many others who are not so lucky.  I don’t know how they deal with such heartache on a daily basis.

Walking around the hospital for breaks and to eat was an eye opener.  We would see parents wheeling children around in little buggies…these children had no hair and too had feeding tubes.  Some were infants.  And then we saw older children…teenagers even, who were walking around hooked up to IV’s.  Every time I thought I was starting to feel better about things with Abby, I would see these things and the tears would just well up.  I knew Abby would be ok b/c whatever it was that was causing her vocal cord thing would get better.  And if surgery was needed, we would get through it.  But it just broke my heart to see so many other sick children.  It broke my heart to stare into the eyes of parents whose children were far worse off than Abby was.  This also helped to put things into perspective…we were going to be ok…but this also led to guilt that we were going to be ok.

One of the worst experiences was waiting outside an MRI room (the hubs went in with Abby for this test while I impatiently waited outside).  A teenage girl who was bald and had a feeding tube came back b/c her appointment was after ours.  She went into the bathroom to change into a hospital gown before her MRI.  The way that she walked and carried herself was so amazing.  She was like this is what I have to do and I’m going to deal.  I had to put my head down b/c the tears started streaming.  I just thought of my Abby and what I would do if that was her someday.  And I still wonder about her…if she’s gotten any better…if she’s gotten any worse…if she’s even still alive.

As we got the word that all of Abby’s tests were coming back normal and that it was moreso looking like she would heal on her own, the tears stopped streaming and we even streamed television shows on the laptop as Abby slept.  We started to try to be as “normal” as we possibly could.  We got to snuggle with her on the bed since she was only being fed every three hours via the pump.  We got to start bottle feeding her in combination with the feeding tube.

The best part was when one of the doctors wrote on the white board Abby’s plan for her to be released.  This happened on day 7.  My husband and I just smiled and knew soon enough we would get to take her home.  She needed to keep gaining weight.  She needed to maintain her oxygen levels.  She needed to be taking part of her feeding from a bottle w/o any issues.  I think once this plan was put up, my husband started packing everything.  By the time the morning came around that we knew we would get to go home, everything was packed, in the car and Abby was all dressed in her coming home outfit, the outfit she was supposed to wear over a week ago.  We sipped our coffee, watched some TV, and then it came time for us to say goodbye.  It was one of the best goodbyes ever!

We’ve had to return twice to meet with the occupational therapist to see how the feeding was going.  And in June we will be going back, hopeful for the last time for an appointment, to meet with the Ear, Nose and Throat specialists to make sure that Abby has completely healed.  (We’re hoping that they just look at her and listen to her and decide they don’t need to do any further tests….best case scenario.)

Because of all this, I know our family will forever be indebted to this Children’s hospital.  And I know in time, we will have enough courage to return when not being asked, to volunteer.  And hopefully soon, once I start getting paychecks again, we will have some extra money to donate b/c so many families who come there are low income so the hospital loses millions each year b/c they don’t turn them away due to financial woes.

Overall, this was something I never wished I had to deal with.  But I do think this has made us stronger as a family and stronger as individuals.  We even coined the phrase, “Team (insert last name here).”  We joked about getting t-shirts even.  And sometimes when Abby is fussy after bath and is not wanting to get her PJ’s on, my husband and I will say, “Team (insert last name here),” as we both work quickly to get her dressed and calm her down.

………….and today, though I’m trying not to care about the lack of votes, I kinda do care when I keep falling in the ranks…so today will be a random day that I remind you, that if you enjoy my blog, that if what I write about helps you in any sort of way, that if what I write about entertains you somehow…then don’t forget to click to vote for me…you know you can do it
once a day….b/c staying high up there means more mommies and expecting mommies can find and connect with me, which is the best part about blogging….And you know I will heart you!

Leave a Reply

Click here to cancel reply.

Username (required) :
Email (required) :
Web Site :
Comment :

You can add a link to follow you on twitter if you put your username in this box.
Only needs to be added once (unless you change your username). No http or @ Twitter