Louise Adele: The First Days

Even though Louise weighed in at a healthy 7 lbs. 11 ozs (can you even imagine how big she would have been had I carried her to her due date?) she was covered in vernix from being on the early side so we opted to give her a bath sooner rather than later. After the bath the nurse noticed that she was breathing very fast. Her little chest was going up and down at an incredible rate. At the time no one was overly concerned. She could either have been chilled from the bath or was still going through transition (from living in a watery womb to dry land) and just trying to fill her lungs (not uncommon for a baby born so quickly).

They handed her back to me and we snuggled and tried to get some rest. I was growing increasingly concerned that Louise didn't want to nurse. She also wasn't opening her eyes at all and was SO quiet. Part of me was excited to have a more docile infant on our hands and the other part sensed that something was off.

Around 2am the nurses came back in to check both Ainsley and I. What we had thought was just more bruising on her face from a quick birth turned out to be blue lips and that coupled with her still fast breathing was cause enough for the nurses to take her down to the nursery for further evaluation.

They came back about 15 minutes later without Louise. Her oxygen levels were bordering on low so they were giving her supplemental oxygen and keeping her in the nursery for observation while they waited for a call back from our pediatrician about what to do next. Our doctor ended up ordering a chest xray and some blood work. The chest xray showed that Louise had some fluid in her left lung and this was why she was breathing so quickly. This was most likely amniotic fluid that, while expelled easily in most babies during the slow decent through the birth canal and in the first cries after birth, did not expel because of Louise's rapid decent and her lack of crying right after birth. There was also a slight chance that it was pneumonia or an infection.

The initial bloodwork all came back normal. Her heart sounded great and she was responding well to the oxygen. She got an IV for fluids (sadly she can't eat while she's breathing so hard) and antibiotics just in case of an infection (the won't know for 48 hours if she has one because of the test they're waiting on). She's getting supplemental oxygen through her nose, and has monitors for her heartrate, breathing and oxygen level. I couldn't be in the room when they were hooking her all up. It's one of the hardest things I've had to see.

That first night that she spent in the nursery was hard. I got no sleep and kept returning to the nursery to sit by her side, then would have to leave when tears took over. I felt like we weren't getting many answers to what was wrong. No one seemed overly concerned, but no one was reassuring us either.

In the morning Ian headed home to say hi to Ainsley and get us some coffee. Ainsley and my mom came to visit around 11 but sadly could only see Louise through the window in the nursery. She was all hooked up to monitors and tubes so it was hard to see her. I was so upset that Ainsley didn't get to properly meet her new sister. I had been looking forward to that for months.

The rest of that day remains a blur. I was in more pain postpartum than I remember being in with Ainsley (I'm told this is normal for second and subsequent babies/births). I was taking a lot of motrin and utilizing hot packs for my stomach and back. Typically a new mom would be spending her first hours in bed nursing and holding her newborn and I was trekking back and forth between the nursery and our room.

They move me to a postpartum room a little after dinner time. It was depressing to leave the nice big abc room for a college dorm look a like. Ian headed home to help put Ainsley down and spend the night as there was no bed for him in the new room. This was the worst night. I completely fell apart. Thank goodness for my amazing husband who came back to sit with me for a while and a wonderful nurse who took the time to sit down with me and listen and give me a hug.

It was excruciating to go to the nursery and see my daughter all hooked up to machines. The urge to hold her and feed her and comfort her was overwhelming and I was completely helpless to do anything for her. I kept hoping that at each visit something would have changed, improved, but everything seemed to stay the same. She was stable but not really improving. What had started out as an assumed brief stay to stabilize her breathing was turning into an unknown amount of time for recovery.

Around 3am I finally had a moment with her. She was starting to show signs of hunger (talk about heartbreaking when you're breastfeeding and aren't allowed to feed your baby) and the nurses gave her one of their pacifiers. She wasn't liking it. I walked as fast as I could back to my room and got her a soothie pacifier that Ian had brought from home. She loved it. I got to sit there with my daughter sucking away on my finger inside the pacifier, with her eyes wide open. I just talked to her and sang to her and felt like her mom for the first time since she was born.

I felt uplifted because she looked so good. Her color had improved, she was alert and active. Things were looking up.

Still the vagueness of the situation was the hardest for me. When was she going to get to come home? If she had TTN (amniotic fluid in the lungs) most babies recover within 3 days, but it can take as long as 7. It all depends on the baby and how they recover.

Fast Forward 2 days...

I am still upset by the vague timeline of Louise's arrival home. The neonatologist predicted 1-2 more days last night but then they discovered that she's jaundiced this morning and will need to be under the lights for at least 24 hours. I feel like there is always something new.

Ian and I got to hold her this morning which was amazing. She has been taken off oxygen and assuming she is infection free (which they think she is) and her breathing continues to stabilize she could be eating as early as tonight. Once she can eat 1-1.5 oz. and everything else is stable she can come home. I am so hopeful for tomorrow evening. While holding her was amazing it almost made it harder (like a drop of water to a man dying of thirst - my mom said). I got a taste of what "normal" with her could be and it took all the strength I had not to tuck that baby under my shirt and run out the door.

While I am so thankful for the technology to help her and other sick babies I am increasingly frustrated with the system of care. The nurses are unable to give us much information for fear of misleading us or giving us false hope. The doctors are only in sporadically and unless we catch them to talk to them ourselves we get only vague second hand information. Everyone keeps telling us how much she is improving and how good she looks so WHY CAN'T SHE COME HOME?!!!

While we were holding her her stats were all perfect. I am so confident that if they would just let me feed her, see that she can handle it (I know she can, she sucks on that pacifier like a champ and her poor lips are so cracked from dryness) that she could come home. I am so fearful that because of some dumb technicality or shortness of staff she'll have to stay longer than she needs to. I want her home the second she's ready. 1am, I'm there to take her home. But it doesn't work that way and I'm really upset about that.

I'm hopeful that we'll get more good news tonight when we go back. It's been a rough morning after seeing her and my heart aches to be with her. I'm trying to keep myself busy by putting the finishing touches on decorations for her room but it's hard. My mind is always with her and when she does get home I'm looking forward to hogging her completely.

I have more to say but this is getting long. I'll keep everyone updated once we hear more.