We drove the route that we now know by heart. MFH remained approximately three miles per hour above getting pulled over for going too slowly and not using the hazard signal. I'm fairly certain that I could have been the perfect test dummy for the pulsox, because I didn't exhale until we reached our street. Speaking of monitors, Little Bird's didn't alert at all during the hour and twenty minute ride. In fact, she slept as if she'd been in the car a thousand times before. Seriously. She didn't even need suctioning. We pulled up out front and popped the four ways on, and that's when the mother of all panic attacks struck.
I need to take a moment here, and express my gratitude for three very specific people on our in-home nursing team. No, really. For weeks, I was walking around on the ultimate my-kid-just-came-off-of-ventilator-and-TPN-pump-and-I-don't-need-no-stinkin'-home-nurses high. At one point, I seriously contemplated getting thru the door with the baby, and sending them all packing. I had absolutely no appreciation for exactly how humbling and terrifying it would be to carry Little Bird inside, look around, and realize that our PICU team is no longer with us. I can't even tell you how much these Ladies have helped throughout this first week. Had it not been for April, Jessie, and Crystal, I'd have gotten back into the van right quick, and made a beeline back to the hospital. Or, the local psych ward.
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| Minutes After We Arrived |
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| "I tink I like it here!" |
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| "She's my baby! You go get your own baby now, Mommy!" |
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| Three Divas! |
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| Raising The Roof Already! |
Eventually, the girls allowed Grammy some cuddles while MFH and I ran around the house like two rabid squirrels. Put these HME's back in to go-bag to replace what we used for the ride home. Don't forget to plug the portable suction in to charge. Why isn't this thermometer working? Where's the hand sanitizer? She's due for a med in ten minutes, get it ready! By the time Kenny arrived with the majority of our equipment and supplies, even he was ordering us to sit down, shut up, and just enjoy the moment. But it wasn't until April literally grabbed my hand, got my attention, and said, "Take a deep breath and relax. She's fine! We got this!", until I finally relented and allowed everyone else to do their jobs.
It took another hour and a half until we felt situated and organized enough, knowing that everything of utmost importance was at least somewhat conquered. The Joey pump, set up and in the process of dispensing formula into Little Bird's belly. An accurately working thermometer. The oxygen condenser, plugged in and ready to go. The go-bag, replenished. The emergency, bedside bag in place. The regulator placed on a full cylinder. A fresh pitcher of formula, mixed. Her medication schedule and dosage sheet, reviewed and revised. I needed to be ready. For anything. And yet, throughout all of this organized chaos and moment of temporary insanity, Little Bird laughed! When she wasn't preoccupied with the ceiling fan above her crib, she was busy watching Mommy have an epic nervous breakdown, and finding it completely hysterical.
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| "Don't be nervous, Daddy. I will help you!" |
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| "If you put the camera down, I promise I is full of smiles!" |
April stayed with us until seven o'clock that evening, when Jessie took over the night shift. And as per her typical routine, Little Bird slept, well...like a baby! Actually, so did MFH and I. I'd be hard pressed to recollect a memory of any rest as equally as peaceful in my entire life. The weight of the world made way for an abundance of relief and tranquility. And I took advantage of every minute of that, awaking twelve hours later, and revving to go. Nothing sets the mood for a fantastic day like coming downstairs and seeing your baby, right there. Smiling away at you, without a care in the world! Life is gooood....
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