So the next morning upon waking I was keen to get out of bed so I could go to the nicu. Surprisingly my pain levels were quite good, I managed to get up and have a shower. Had my breakfast, and then waited, and waited... - I had to wait for an orderly to come and wheel me to the nicu (it was quite a hike to get there). He finally came and I got to do a quick trip to the nicu - wow, my little man was tiny. How had I forgotten how tiny these babies were - it was only 5 years since I had my daughter, and she wasn't much bigger at birth, but wow - he was tiny (actually he was a decent size for his gestation).
He was doing as well as could be expected at that stage. I remembered from my previous nicu stint though, that there was what they called a "honeymoon period" where babies seemed to do extremely well for a bit, and then all the bumps would start to hit.
We that night was the end of our honeymoon period, and I so wasn't ready for it to hit us that soon. I had a call from the neonatologist in the very early hours of the morning (when you're a nicu mum you panic everytime your phone rings, but when it happens in the middle of the night you know it must be bad). Our little man, who we'd named Jai, was really struggling - he had a collapsed lung and was in desperate need of a blood transfusion. I don't know that I realised just how desperate things were that night - but as I have kept in very close contact with one of the nurses, who I now call my friend - she was actually caring for Jai on that particular night - it wasn't until I caught up with her again many months after our nicu journey ended, that she explained to me just how dire things were on that particular night. She even managed to write in his journal - thinking that it might be the last chance, but not ever letting on to me at the time how bad it was.
So not only did we have all of this going on, we also then had the first of many cranial ultrasounds - of all the things in the nicu - these scared me the most - I could handle lumbar punctures, blood tests and many other things, but ultrasounds really scared me - and I had good reason to be scared - Jai had 2 grade 2 bleeds - I know it could be worse, but this really hit me hard.
I don't know how I did it, but I refused to let any of this get me down - yes, I was absolutely terrified - but I was never going to give up hope. We'd fought tooth and nail to be able to even have a second child, and he was here and fighting - so I was going to help him in that fight.
I pulled myself back from friends, family and the "real world" for a few days while I pulled myself together. I concentrated fully on my son, and being with him as much as I possibly could. After all, love can conquer anything right??
And guess what, he started to improve.
Whilst I was a patient in the hospital though, I found it extremely hard to see him as much as I needed to. I had to be back by my bedside for meals and medications (I was on triple iv antibiotics) - I only took morphine the night of my C-section, panadeine forte the next day and night, then just plain old paracetamol the next day. By day 4 I was begging to be discharged - I was completely off pain meds, and my infection levels had finally gotten low enough that they decided it was ok to put me onto oral antibiotics instead of the iv ones - and they let me go, far earlier than they wanted to - but they knew I wouldn't give in until they let me leave.
I moved into Ronald McDonald house, and that's when things started to get a little easier...
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