Roller Coaster Ride

Yesterday, Chad and I came to fully understand what it means to be on the roller coaster ride that is called the NICU.

Since day one it hasn't been the funnest ride we've ever been on, I'm not going to lie. The most dramatic, by far...but definitely not the funnest.

Immediately after Logan was born, the doctor who was helping with the c-section leaned over the little curtain separating me from the gore and said "Congratulations". This should be considered an appropriate response toward one who had just had a baby...but at the time I wasn't so sure. Please, don't misunderstand, I am utterly thrilled to have my precious little Logan, but a "Congratulations, you just had your baby 10 weeks early, and he's going to be in the NICU until his due date." doesn't seem completely worthy of such congratulations.

Every bit of happiness we have (and it is a lot) over having our little boy here seems to be surrounded by a fog of worry. Which...you know...pretty much sounds par to parenthood, right? Every new parent worries about their new one and if they can hack it as parents. ...That kind of worry I felt a little more prepared for. Our little situation seems to be a whole other ball game of which we have received no prior explanation on the rules.

No one told me I wouldn't be allowed to hold my new baby more than once a day...IF that. No one told me that I wouldn't be able to touch him without scrubbing off my top 3 layers of skin first. And that when I did touch him it would be through two little arm wholes in the side of an enclosed box.

No one told me that I should expect to see my baby covered in tubes and wires for the first few months of his life. And they most certainly failed to mention that I need to prepare mentally to handle watching people poke and prod my little one on a daily basis to test him for things I've never even heard of. No one taught me how to read a stats monitor, or explained to me that when the monitor goes off there is nothing to worry about for at least 30 sec. No one taught me how to measure his belly girth...nor did anyone ever say WHY I would ever need to. And worst of all, no one can tell me how long this "game" is going to last, if there was any shortcuts, or how exactly one can win.

No, I came into this game totally blind. I read all the wrong books, I prepared for all the wrong scenarios, and I was given lessons, advice, and fore warnings, which although may one day be applicable...they certainly don't feel very applicable now.

Logan has been doing so good, he's progressed and developed faster than anyone ever expected him to, but yesterday...yesterday was our first taste of a set back. Our first taste of a delay to get our baby home. Since being in the NICU we've heard it happens, and that it's pretty much standard for every baby who passes through there, we just had really high hopes that our baby would be the exception...we were wrong. Our little guy had to be put back on his oxygen yesterday. He's been struggling to keep his O-levels up during his feeds, and he seems to have a pretty rotten case of reflex, which doesn't help.

They tell us that all of this is "age appropriate behavior"...and you got to give the little duffer props, I mean, he's only 32 1/2 weeks old (gestationally). He's supposed to have another 8 weeks to develop within the safety of his womb inside of me. But age appropriate or not...to watch your little guy go blue and have an oxygen mask put on his face and hear the incessant beeping of all of his monitors alarms going off... it's almost more than a parent can take.

I know he is going to be fine. I know all he needs is time to develop and to grow. I know that one day we will actually be able to bring him home and take all those wires and monitors off of him. But knowing all that doesn't keep my worries at bay. It doesn't change the fact that he turned an eerie shade of blue, and that he's added a tube, instead of getting rid of one yesterday.

Definitely not the funnest roller-coaster.

I'm very much looking forward to the day when we can get off.