The constant stream of people was really great. So many people came and called I never got any naps, but I also never got a chance to feel sorry for myself or to worry much. It was really terrific to feel so loved and thought about. People brought me little things some of which I needed really badly. Bath products, crossword puzzles, pretty pajamas for ME not Betsy. Food I could sometimes eat, sometimes not. Anyhow, I am all in favor of hoards of people seeing you in the hospital no matter how much crap you look like. Much better than being by yourself all the time.
Anyway, I think Monday is when we finally were allowed to hold her, but I've forgotten exactly. All I know is that petting her little head and holding her little hands and feet in the isolette was not very rewarding. I didn't feel very connected to her and there was this ominous sense of chemical imbalance raging in the back of my skull saying "You're supposed to have a baby now. Where is she?" and when they finally let me hold her -- let alone try to breast feed her -- all of that instantly disappeared.
Being allowed to hold her a few times a day made everything better from a phermonal, biological whatever-it-is point of view, but it didn't really answer the question of how she was doing, what we should expect and when she'd get to go home. We learned pretty quickly that the first question gets a straight answer, but the second two questions were not answerable with more than 24 hours worth of accuracy. They could tell us she was fine where FINE= she's breathing on her own, she's off the IV and she's gaining weight but would not go home today or tomorrow, but everything after that was pretty speculative. Betsy was meeting milestones for proving she was going to be ok at home quickly (that list that makes up FINE is not usual for 34 week preemies) but it was hard to say if she'd be ok tomorrow or how long they'd see her being ok before they decided to trust her and send her home.
So on Monday, I set a pattern for the next 3 days. Shuffle everywhere. Try not to ask for percocets too often. Hold/feed the baby as much as they'd let me. Chatter nonstop to visitors, NICU nurses and anyone else who would hold still long enough to talk since I was babbling with nervous exhaustion. As soon as they finally throw the visitors out, crash like a ton of bricks. Repeat.
More about all of this in the next entry.
Posted by karen at September 23, 2002 12:00 AM