Tuesday, October 30

7a.m.
The whole breathing, or not breathing, rather, episode last night scared me a little. This morning, the nurse said she was doing ok and they were about to start weaning her off of the vent.  She started feedings again at 1a.m. and is doing well on those.

Every time I go into the NICU, I just sit and stare in awe at Aubrey.  She's so beautiful and perfect...and tiny.  And hooked up to a hundred machines.  And then I cry.  Lucky me, I get to experience all the normal postpartum hormone swings along with the stress and worry of my baby not being ok.  Everyone keeps telling me I look so strong and am handling this so well.  In actuality I feel like a quivering, gelatinous, hormonal puddle of cow puke.  Not pleasant, I know.  I've never been more afraid in my life; I guess maybe I'm a better actress than I thought.  I'm afraid for Aubrey and all the things she will have to go through in the next few months (and possibly years).  I'm afraid of the toll it will take on Adam and I, trying to work and then live out of the hospital when we aren't at work, trying to have a "normal" life when we feel absolutely anything but normal.

On top of all that, for me, is the guilt and the grief.  Guilt because I didn't carry Aubrey the entire 9 months and have a peaceful, full-term birth.  I am her mama...I had sole responsibility for her care in the womb, and here she is already out in the scary world, 16 weeks too soon.  Somehow, I failed her. I thought I was doing everything I could--eating healthy, exercising, taking my vitamins and going to all my doctor's appointments...I know that's not logical--the doctors said there was no way to predict this, no indicators that this would happen, and no particular cause.  It just happened.  That doesn't make it easier for me to accept.  I hurt because she hurts.  I can't fix it.  I feel like I need her forgiveness. 

I also think I'm grieving the loss of the rest of my pregnancy.  I loved being pregnant.  I reveled in every kick I felt, every jab to the bladder, every inch of my expanding waistline.  I wanted to waddle and not be able to reach my toes and look like a snail when I laid on my back and have Adam have to help me get out of bed.  I wanted to tell people to put their hand in a certain spot on my belly to feel Aubrey give them a right hook. There is so much I didn't get to experience with Aubrey.  A friend of mine who has been in the same situation said it best: "You feel gypped, don't you?"  Yes, yes I do.  Please don't misunderstand--I'm so thankful that my sweet baby is here and alive and I get to see her and touch her and watch her grow...I just really wanted her to do some more of that growing on the inside for a while.  I wanted to take her home with us after she was born and spend weeks just getting to know her and being a family of three.

Ok, now that I've been a total Debbie Downer this morning, I'll end this on an upswing: thank you all so very much for all the love and prayers.  Thanks to everyone who has visited, brought food, sent gift cards and presents.  We feel all of this support so deeply, and, quite honestly, we need it.  This is going to be a long journey, and Adam and I feel blessed to have all of you walking beside us.

Keli

9:45 pm

Adam went back to work tonight.  Neither of us was thrilled with it, but it had to be done at some point.  At least it's only 1 night on night shift and then back to days for 2 weeks on Friday.  Mom stayed with me, and we went back to the hospital this evening to check on Aubrey.  She's still on the ventilator, but they are weaning her off of it and hoping to take it out sometime tonight.  The nurse said not to worry if they didn't though...they'd rather leave it in a little longer than take it out too soon and have to put it back in again.  She's handling her feedings well and the amount she's getting each time was upped from 2ml to 3ml.  It's such a small amount, but she's tiny and every little bit of breast milk she gets through that feeding tube is good for her.