The First Week - xoxo Rebecca

The First Week

As you saw in my last post, I announced the birth story and photos of the newest addition to our family. I'm a very happy mommy to have such an amazing little guy here in my life. Most of you have been following up with me on what has been going on through Twitter. But I haven't told the whole story.
There will not be photos as the ones I do have are too private to share because of the issues and stuff we have been going through. I took them for my personal account to view progress each day and to be able to look at my baby when I couldn't be with him.

So for those who have been curious, here is the story. Though I'm shortening it to make it not a novel and easier to read instead of going on and on. But we all know I'm bad at making short posts like this.

The night before we were discharged from the hospital to take our new baby home, the nurses noticed a concern they had with him so they took him to be looked over to see what the matter was. He was eating like he should but would either throw up his milk or start crying so much he refused to take any even though he was starving.

I'm not talking a little spit-up. He actually in one instance, projectile vomited five times in an hour all over me. Something was very wrong with my healthy little baby we were supposed to be taking home in a few hours.
So when morning came, they said we would be leaving the hospital but would like the baby to stay one more night to be tested for a few things. My heart sank. I couldn't believe I was leaving the hospital and not my baby. I didn't sleep at all that night. I was up calling the hospital at all hours checking on him. I got phone calls from them too with updates. Some were so promising...then at 6:30am Sunday morning, the surgeon called me saying the worst news I could hear.

He informed me that after numbers of tests and xrays, my baby had an intestinal issue that needed emergency surgery done as soon as possible. Otherwise, he would die within a few days. Can you imagine hearing those words as a mother? I started crying so bad. I told them when is the surgery going to happen. He told me in one hour. I said I am coming down there right now.

I went in my pajamas looking like a complete mess and crying hysterically. I raced to the hospital to be by my baby's side. When I go there they had him prepped for surgery. Such a horrible site to see him with the IVs all over him and machines hooked to him. He looked so helpless. I just stood over him crying.
They started to have so many people come up to me explaining all sorts of things for me to sign and go over and all these things. Then I was told what they were going to try and do to save my baby's life. There were a few things they said that could happen. All I could do was sit in the waiting room alone and cry for the two hours waiting to hear something. I don't even know how I survived the wait.

Finally, a knock was at the door. It was the nurses and my baby. He looked like a doll. Lifeless, and tubes going in and out of his mouth and nose. IVs all over his hands, chest, legs. Bandages and stitches all down over his stomach. He didn't look like my baby. He looked like something I would never dream of seeing a baby look like.

They told me the surgeon was on his way to talk to me and they were taking my baby to the recovery area in the NICU where I could come right after our talk. So I waited for a few mins and the surgeon arrived. He sat down with me and started to explain things and then drew a diagram so I could understand what was going on.

He said what they discovered is that even though my baby was born fully developed and at term, somehow, his small intestines and his colon never seemed to come together and form properly. So he went in and had to cut off the lower portion of his small intestines and then sew the remaining part to his colon and then also remove the appendix.

So that was that. Now, the waiting begun to see if surgery was successful or not. And I felt like the time went by as eternity waiting for it to. We wouldn't know for about a week if it was or if they needed to do more. So then I finally got to see my little guy again.
I was allowed to touch his hand but I could not hold him. He had to have a breathing machine put in underneath his skin to keep his heart going since it had stopped from the high levels of anesthesia though they comforted me saying nothing was wrong with his heart. It was just there for the support.

I was told he would take at least three weeks to recover with a possibility of months at that. Just depending on his strength to heal. So I sat there and watched his little lifeless body for a few hours just crying and holding his hand.
They said it could be one to two days before he would wake up or show any movement. He just laid there. But somehow after around two hours, he started to open his eyes. I was so happy to see my little guys eyes looking back at me. It made my heart filled with joy and then filled with utter sadness to see him like this.

So as the day went on, I just stayed by his side. They had to force me at one point to get up and go to the bathroom because I had been holding it cause I didn't want to leave him. For that first week, I basically lived at the hospital with him. Going at all hours and neglecting everything else in my life.

I hated seeing that he couldn't have any milk. He was so hungry and they said that they couldn't until he made a poop with the IV fluids and fats they were giving to him. This was the moment we waited for day after day. If he pooped, that means the surgery was indeed successful. And they said it could take about a week before it happened. I never in my life wanted to see poop so bad.

Minute after minute I waited and watched as they checked his diaper. When I had to be at home trying to sleep, I called them non-stop asking if he pooped. When I went back during the day I would bug them too. Finally, around the fourth day, he finally did. I was so excited and relieved that I knew he could finally have food because he had been starving.

It was very small amounts at first because his stomach and intestines needed to be able to handle it all. And he showed improvement by keeping it down and not spitting it up, so that was a relief too. The first week was a hard week. So much stress and emotions running through my body. But my baby boy was showing some good signs of improvement and I was there almost every minute showing him that I loved him so much, I sacrificed everything in my life to be by his side for 12 hours a day just to hold his little hand and talk to him and read to him.

I knew he felt how much I cared. Getting through that first week was very tough. We both were trying to be strong and I was trying to be the best mom I could be for that little boy who I know needed me more then ever to show him how much he was loved.

My next post about this will be called "The Second Week".

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xoxo Rebecca