03/08/2007

Boy, I've had four people mention that I haven't updated so I guess I'd better update. I didn't know anyone was still out there.. hint, hint. Leave me a note sometimes. It's therapy for me. Anyway, I haven't posted anything because Emery is flat-out boring. I said that to the nurse today, like why do I keep calling at rounds. Nothing is changing, which is good. Emery had happy Hope time yesterday, and she wanted to know if we were bathing him and if music therapy and physical therapy had been by to talk to us, to which we replied no. She wanted to know how holding was going, and we said only okay because we don't get to hold him that much. She felt we should be holding him every time we were there so he got used to it, so Mommy held Emery for over an hour last night and we sang to him and rocked him and he loved it! He snuggled right in. He also won't take the pacifier for anyone, but I can get him to do a 'nonnutritional suck' with it, which is way cool. He's ready to interact with people at 37 weeks' corrected gestational age, but he's uncomfortable with the tube in his mouth. He hates it. Hope put socks on his hands yesterday. He keeps trying to extubate himself. She also played the CD that we made for him and she said he was awake and looking around the whole time. It makes me feel good that there is someone there working with him. We also found out that if sicker babies come onto the unit, Emery's going to one of the ones to move over to bay 2. He's pretty stable. This strikes fear into my heart because he's more prone to infection over there, and I'm scared to death losing him to infection. Erik told me not to worry about it, because thus far all of the other babies have stabilized quicker than Emery so they'll move first. Emery can hold his temperature pretty well now. His only concern is the lungs. Shakir, one of the fellows, came to talk to us last night and he said 'It's maddening.' That is the most fitting way to describe it. Waiting for Emery's lungs to grow new tissue is worse than water torture. Shakir was the doctor who came to see me when I was in labor and delivery. He sat and talked with my family and the OBs and everyone kept having conversations about my health and the long-term outcome of a 25-weeker. There was all of this talk back and forth, over my head like I wasn't in the room, so I burst out in the middle of it and said 'what is he? Is he 25 weeks or 26 weeks, because I'm 26 weeks today.' The entire room got silent, and I kid you not the look on Shakir's face was priceless, like we're trying to save both your lives and you care about a day? It was funny. Speaking of funny, I don't feel very funny today. I'm really tired. Emery is 80 days old today. We are on day 80 of the NICU. One day at a time. I never thought that the second year of our marriage would be like this, or the first 3 months of child-rearing. Here's some perspective... Emery still isn't due. He will be 3 months old in 10 days, and he wasn't due until March 27. The cleaning fairies came by again last night, those tricky buggers. Know what's great about it? I think that's why I'm tired. Tonight we are not going to Iowa City and there is no house to clean, the bills have been paid, and I'm exhausted. I finally get a break. Hope all is well. Emery is at 32 mL every 3 hours. He's been stable at 50% O2 unless he's awake and alert, then it's a bit higher. He likes to be talked to. He likes to be touched on his head. He likes his butt patted. He hates messy diapers. We cuddled last night. Tomorrow night Erik and I get to give him a bath. We never have. We are going to tape it (don't worry, we'll put the necessary mosaic fuzzies so we won't be exploiting our son.) Love to all - Sarah, Erik and nearly chubby Emery