Another hard day

Today was brutal.

We got to the hospital early with the carseat, hoping we would be able to do his 90 minute test first thing and bring our boy home. The news we got from our nurse was absolutely not expected.

After reviewing our case, the doctor feels that the instances of bradycardias are too high to allow him to go home.

On the postive side: his bilirubin levels are down (you can see a visible improvement), he is eating almost 4 oz at each feeding, he is going to the bathroom beautifully, and he is gaining weight. These are all great steps in the right direction, for which we are very grateful.

Unfortunately, even though his bradies are self-correcting 90% of the time, he still has ones that aren't which are a cause for concern.

When the doctor sat down with us, he laid it out. He could send Turtle home with a monitor. While it's not his first choice, it would get our son home this week. DH and I would have to complete a CPR class, learn how to use the monitor, and then room in at the hospital overnight so they could observe us wiht him for a period of time. DH told him to get the ball rolling on this plan and the social worker emailed the CPR instructor to see if there is was room in tomorrow's class.

The doctor also ordered an ultrasound of his brain for tomorrow morning. He said it's the next step - sometimes the bradies indicate an immaturity of the brain stem and the ultrasound will make sure his brain is structurally sound. Of all the things I've heard this past week, this is what freaks me out the most. I cried for hours over this today, and I'm not going to feel at ease until we have the test results.

In the meantime, we gave him his bottle, snuggled him and went home for a bit.

Mom and Dad got some time to themselves today - they finally got to run some errands that they'd been wanting to do and Mom did even more baby laundry. She really claims to love everythng laundry related, so I won't feel too guilty about it.

Back at the house, I had a little cry. We got some more gifts in the mail, but I didn't want to open any of them, so I went up to lay down for a bit and DH did some work. He also called a few of his doctor friends to get some advice on the best decision. He came upstairs after I got some sleep to say that he wants to rethink bringing our baby home. No one is recommending it, and while we could do it, it's better to have him at the NICU, where he's got the best care around the clock, as opposed to bringing him home and having something go horribly wrong. I understand his point of view, and while I hate the thought of leaving Turtle there one second longer than absolutely necessary, I see how he could be right. He called and cancelled the order for the monitor, although we are still going to do the CPR class.

We also discussed my parents. Dad has to go back to work on Monday, regardless, but Mom has some more leeway. She had told me that she wanted to stay the duration, and that she would fly my stepdad home this weekend and then she would drive back herself when this is all over and Turtle is home and settled. Dad was not pleased with this plan, so I suggested we tell them to go home this week and we fly Mom back down on a free ticket we have already. That way, no one is driving alone, and Mom gets a few days to regroup. While we love the support, they have lives, too, and I don't want everyone just sitting here, holding their collective breath, waiting for a green light. It's too hard.

I'll find out what they've decided tomorrow.

When we got back to the hospital, the nurse told us Turtle had had a great day, with zero bradies! We held him for a while, and then she asked us to let him get some sleep so he would do a good feeding at 8:30. We went for a bite to eat and came back for his temperature, diaper change and bottle.

He did almost 4 whole ounces again, but he had two bradies while feeding (one self-correcting and one not), and then another quick one while I was holding him post-bottle. Every time the alarm on his monitor goes off, I feel my heart just drop into my stomach and it feels like the air gets sucked out of me. We had another dirty diaper before we left, too.

Bottom line: I'm numb and I'm angry and I'm scared. I don't understand why this is happening to my perfect little boy. I want him home and I want to be enjoying these first few weeks with him, away from the hospital. I hope this isn't ruining our bonding - we are trying to be there for as many feedings and awake time as possible, and we are constantly holding him and talking to him, but what if it's not enough? I'm starting to feel like I screwed something up during my pregnancy, or that something was wrong with me that caused this. Tomorrow's ultrasound scares the hell out of me, and I'm trying so hard not to think about it, but how can I not? I feel like I've failed my son in some way.

I'm trying to snap out of it because it's not helping anything, but I need to get it out. I am praying constantly that this will pass and he will grow out of it quickly with nothing else being wrong so we get to bring him home.