Movin' On Up!

Well, we've made it to 4 lbs already! And to our surprise this morning, we found our baby in an open bed, a graduation of sorts from the isolette since he can now regulate his own temperature. 

This week has been a tough one, though. I am quickly noticing the emotional highs and lows of life in the NICU the longer Harrison is there. As often as I come and go from the hospital, the sadder I become leaving without him. Each feeding is now 40 cc's, and Harrison struggles to complete a bottle. The rest must be fed through the Gavage tube.  Despite the fact that this is completely normal and expected, it is disheartening since I've pretty much elected him as a Mensa candidate already.  I really should count my blessings though, because he's managed to avoid the typical preemie problems, i.e. apneas, bradycardias, and respiratory issues altogether. Our prayer is that none of those issues present themselves in coming weeks. The evening of his first day of life, he did have one episode of SVT (super ventricular tachycardia) where his heartbeat escalated to 250/minute, but it appears that that was an isolated incident. Unfortunately that crappy gene came from me. 

I find myself these days feeling ok one minute, then quickly plummeting to a thumb sucking/rocking state of mind when I see such things as his tube being replaced after he pulls it out two times in one day. I recall committing to memory the sight of his beautiful face without some attachment, and I would have grabbed the camera had I not wanted to continue holding him so tightly. My poor husband is sometimes present for these breakdowns, and I know that he's beside himself not being able to fix the problem. As previously written, I feel closer to him now more than ever, seeing this creature we created and how our love for him is so powerful and intense.  And after not having needed anyone before, I find myself needing Tony so badly. A true testament to the amount of love and trust I have for him. A man like no other, he is. 

I simply cannot understand negligent parents, and how the world is filled with people unable to feel a passion for parenthood as a result of their selfishness. I am so consumed with guilt for not carrying this baby to term, despite the fact I had little control over the situation. The guilt then transitions into the "what if" stage where I wonder what would have transpired had I not had a doctor's appointment that day. Still not having an answer as to what the problem was is on my mind constantly, but then I find myself at yet another peak of the Hormonal Texas Giant. I certainly didn't enjoy being pregnant by any means, but would give anything to put him back in there if it meant bringing him home, happy and healthy.  I am, however, going to cling to the fact that he is doing so well, and given the circumstances, he is a happy boy as long as the pacifier is nearby and that he continues to receive the care he deserves.  As God has handed me ridiculously tough cards before, I intend to play this hand graciously, accepting this beautiful miracle as and when he came. I will continue to pray for his good health and my own sanity, as we anxiously await the day we can bring him home.

Thanks to all who follow our story, your support makes a concurrently happy and difficult time more bearable. Check back soon for more updates!