Sisters....

This afternoon, we took a spur-of-the-moment ride to the NICU. I know, right? How can something we've been doing for almost the past five months be spontaneous? It wasn't so much the destination or the timing, but the company. Number Four asked to see Little Bird. This may sound strange, and actually, it is. Because she is our fainter. I've watched this child drop while having her own blood drawn. The night after the baby was born, MFH brought the kids in to see their baby sister. I was in the midst of a transfusion when they arrived. The sight of bagged blood products was enough for her knees to buckle, and she refused to sit with me on my bed. During the past twenty weeks, we've offered her these opportunities time and again, only for her to decline them all. For her to choose to be around all of the machines and equipment, knowing full well the chances of her coming face to face with Little Bird's surgical site? This was a pretty big phobia for her to face. Since Number Five was so well behaved on Thanksgiving, and all-consumed with the excitement of just the possibility of kissing her baby today, we couldn't refuse her request, either. So, we threw a couple of 'just in case' bags together, and away we went. 

We arrived and scrubbed in, and met Nurse Megan at the baby's bedside. She gave us an update, explaining that today, Little Bird weighs eight pounds, thirteen ounces, a total gain of seven pounds since her birth. Her IV's are gone, and she has worked her way back up to an ounce and a half per feed. She also took five millimeters by bottle right before we got there. Her vent pressures have been lowered, along with her oxygen, and she's already back to CPAP trials. Little Bird was asleep until she heard us conversing about today's events. She opened her eyes to the sight of her sisters smiling down upon her. And just like that, she went bananas. Like a kid on Christmas morning, she began to flail her arms and kick her legs, and smile at her female counterparts. In an instant, she knew. Her partners in crime. Her best friends, forever...

The three of them spent several minutes catching up with one another while Megan gave me the low down on the care and training I was about to do. Cleaning the wound area and rotating the mickey, examining her stoma and trach for any breakdown, suctioning her airway, my first administered PEG feeding, and eventually, taking her temperature and a diaper change. Little Bird wanted no part of any of it, and began to fuss and cry out of frustration because no one had picked her up yet. She wanted out of that crib, stat!

Mommy's New Desktop Background

Hey! You Look Just Like Me!

Look! No Tapes Or Tubes!

We began the rundown of procedures, knocking them off of the list one by one, but clearly, not fast enough for Ms. Diva. She wanted to play, and she wanted to play now. Number Four did an excellent job of distracting her long enough for us to get everything accomplished. Number Five did a fabulous job of snapping photos of everyone, and everything, in the unit. I wish I could show them to you. However, I'm pretty sure it would be a huge HIPPA violation to post random pics of anonymous babies that don't belong to us. What can I say? The girl found her calling. When she grows up, she's going to become a paparazzo.

One More Minute, Sweet Love, I Promise

Almost Done

Megan walked me thru prepping the feed, programming the pump, and attaching the tube. This sounds and certainly looks a hell of a lot more complicated than it is. But, after dealing with all things mechanical ventilation, it really is much 'ado about nothing. Even though it's only been three days since the surgery, Little Bird is recovering astoundingly well. She does have a bit of tenderness, but other than that, unless you knew her medical background, you wouldn't know this to look at her. With that being said, her hands are being kept in mittens at all times, regardless. They removed her NG tube this afternoon, and when they did, she helped. Before they could stop her, she grabbed a hold of the tape and yanked it off of her face, leaving a bit of a mark on her left cheek. But I can't blame her for wanting it gone. It's been there since day one.

Once we got her situated, Megan handed her off to me. Little Bird had a lot to talk about today. She knows how to control her trach enough to squeak. Just like any four month old can coo, this is her very own way of communicating with us. And it is precious. I don't know why, but I always think she's forgotten who I am between each visit. Even day to day, I worry that because she sees so many different people every hour, she'll view me as another nurse or technician. On an average day, she meets at least four nurses, two attending neonatologists, a therapist, two respiratory technicians, and a specialist. This evening, I've finally come to realize that she knows I'm not going to hurt her. She knows. I'm Momma. And I'm there to give her sweet luvins...

Hearing Some Great Gossip

Have You Ever Saw Eyes So Big?

By this time, Number Five's attention span peaked and began to dip. MFH decided to take her for a walk and bribe her with some sugary goodness at the closest vending machines. Considering that she'd lasted almost an hour without a meltdown, this was a well deserved treat for her. Number Four pulled up another rocker and sat down beside us, quietly contemplating getting any closer than that. While she did assist us with Little Bird's care, she kept her head turned the entire time, avoiding as much of the visual reality of everything as she could. Megan had to tend to her other baby, and so she turned down the overhead lights and gave us time to snuggle in private. I asked Number Four if she was nervous, and she admitted as much. But before I could explain that there was really nothing to be afraid of, Little Bird smiled at her. That simple assurance was all she needed to see. And then, she asked me if she could hold her sister...

Love's Truest Form

Pleasantly Surprised

"Mom, I don't ever want to put her down"

Evidently, Little Bird adored this time with her big sister. She fell asleep in Number Four's arms, and began to snore (by the way, she does not get that from me, I'm just sayin'...). For months, I've watched my oldest daughter struggle with the anxiety she carried about this baby. Not even two weeks ago, she shocked MFH and I both when she declared that she did not want Little Bird to come home. She explained that she wasn't scared, she was petrified. And I can't blame her for that. We're all a bit apprehensive. Even tonight. The thought of something going wrong is so very real to her. She essentially witnessed Little Bird's very premature arrival on our living room sofa only months ago. In the blink of an eye, her entire world drastically changed that Saturday morning. For as much as I wish I could, I can't change that. And I can't make her forget she ever saw what she saw. But I can show her that allowing that kind of fear to cripple her will shut her down and away from some of the most magical moments she may ever experience. By reaching out and holding Little Bird tonight, she allowed her heart to open and accept one of the truest forms of love that this life bestows upon those of us who choose to receive it. It is theirs for the taking. 
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