Sunday, December 18, 2011

Preemie Life - Day 51 Seven Weeks Old

Seven weeks old.  6lbs 1 ounces.  Normal baby size!
The awkwardness of having a major breakdown on a floor so small as the progressive nursery is you know everyone is talking about it.  You don't know what they are saying but you can tell it's getting around.  They look at you funny and when you say something, they respond with, "Oh I've heard," or "Yes I realize this is hard for you."  And you start to wonder if everyone thinks you are a fruitcake.  And the truth is maybe you are a fruitcake.  Maybe you always were.  But you can't help but think that seeing them everyday is starting to make you feel especially fruity.  I'm sure this ending part would have been especially difficult for me regardless, but three things happened simultaneously that made me feel so pushed.  1st was the realization that there was no way Cheetah was going to make it home for the holidays.  She has been a star up until this point and nurses and family members kept telling us she'd for sure be home by Christmas.  2nd was the end of the family help gravy train.  We were so lucky to have Dr. J's mom here for five weeks, followed by my mother, followed by my brother.  And then we were alone and our scheduling just got so much tighter.  3rd was having my ability to feed my baby taken away from me.  It was a step forward to almost being home and to having a "real/normal" relationship with my child and having it snatched away was a major step back.  I think any one of these things would have been difficult to take but having them one on top of the other...well you end up with this fruit salad.  FORGIVE ME!   Yesterday I went to the hospital midday.  I had spent the morning making cake balls for Gigi's birthday and I wanted to be home to celebrate with her in the evening.  When I walked in the door to Cheetah's room they had already started her feed.  The nursed asked me if I was planning on non-nutratively nursing her and I said no because I didn't think I had time to pump.  But when I picked her up to hold her she freaked out rooting and fussing and so I put her down and quickly pumped and then picked her back up to suckle.  The nurse stood over me and pointed out the points when her breathing was tachypnea.  It was ridiculously stressful.  My eyes kept flitting from her to the monitor and whenever the respiration line would go over seventy my shoulders would tense up just a little more.  By the time she was finished I'd created some nice sized knots in my back and something that I'd so looked forward to has become a half hour of mom torture.  Why do we do these things to ourselves?  I hoped today would be better but it was not so.  Today I went to the hospital while Dr. J took the kids to church. Once again Cheetah's feed was a disaster.  She was all over the place, although this time she was even erratic in her sucking.  She'd had an eventful morning though when the nurse and resident thought her belly was hard and spent the early morning getting x-rays and working her over.  So I guess I can't completely blame her for not bringing her A game.  Turns out she's just gassy.  I wonder if insurance companies every get ticked off over having to pay $1000 to find out some baby suffers from flatulence.  They are out some good money and I was out a good feed.  I read all this stuff that says one day it will just click for her, and what looks hopeless will be her coming home really fast.  The rational part of me knows that this has to be the truth, the mother part of me, which long ago I realized was complete unrational wants to kick the rational part to the curb.  I can't help feeling like I've missed the first two months of my daughters life, and trying to grasp glimpses of it I've missed the last two months of my other children's lives as well.  I long for normal and pray the Lord sees fit to bestow upon me just a lazy, boring Saturday curled up with all my kids.  I was in doctor daddy's car driving out to the hospital today.  He always has the Christian station playing and the song Breath of Heaven, Amy Grant came on.

In that moment I felt like my heart had broken open and the song of my heart was filling the car.

I have traveled many moonless night
Cold and weary, with a babe inside
And I wonder what I've done
Holy Father, you have come
And chosen me now
To carry your son

I am waiting in a silent prayer
I am frightened by the load I bear
In a world as cold as stone,
Must I walk this path alone?
Be with me now
Be with me now

Breath of heaven
Hold me together
Be forever near me
Breath of heaven
Breath of heaven
Light up my darkness
Pour over me your holiness
For you are holy

Breath of heaven

Do you wonder as you watch my face
If a wiser one one should have had my place
But I offer all I am
For the mercy of your plan
Help me be strong
Help me be
Help me

Do you wonder, as you watch my face...if a wiser one should have had my place?  I offer all I am father but it isn't much.  Help me be strong.  Help me.  Breath of heaven, hold me together.  Be forever near me.  Light up my darkness.  Pour over me your holiness.  Must I walk this path alone?  Be with me now.


  1. Oh Crys,I am so sorry things aren't going very smoothly. I hope things change quickly. I am praying for you. I think you have done an awesome job of holding it together--a preemie mom is the most difficult job I have ever done! Love ya! This song helped me through the preemieness!

  2. Beautiful Crystal... I love you sweetie! You're trials and challenges are becoming like a beautiful stain glassed window. It's so amazing to see you grow like this. I feel privileged to be your mother and to be allowed to watch. I so wish I could be there with you to help you!

  3. Oh my heck... so I just wrote you're when I meant to write your!



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