So Much to Say

We are home!

Last night after all the hassle of discharging a patient we made it home. It was late and we were hungry and tired but so glad to take our bags out of the car and sit down together for dinner. The whole family around the table for the first time. Ivan, still in his car seat, was at the head of our table and we were indeed grateful to have him there. We got Owen to bed, fed Ivan and laid down in our own bed with our boys safe and snug in their respective resting spots.

Yesterday was amazing. On Monday, I had been somewhat frustrated when our attending doctor informed us that he wanted us to stay another week. Hadn’t we been through this before? What was wrong now? Wasn’t Ivan’s breathing fixed? Why all this hassle about a non-existent infection? What infection? There is no infection? The tests you ran show no infection? Should we gather up all the children in Nashville and give them two weeks of anti-biotics just in case they have infections that they aren’t sick from? There has been no fever, no problems, no sign that Ivan has any infection…let us take him home. I bit my lip and let him talk. Kris spoke up and told him “No.” We explained our frustration without showing it and urged him to talk to the attending doctor we had had in the NICU. I began to pray. I was praying that Ivan would continue to prove his health, that he would eat, that he would gain weight, that he would…what? What could he do? He was already healthy, eating and gaining weight and not sick…how else could he prove himself. That’s when I realized I was praying wrong…I felt strongly that God was asking me to prove Him. Pray that the doctor changes his mind. Sounds a little more difficult to me, but I will pray none the less. Every time Ivan fell asleep during a feeding and didn’t finish the 53 ML they wanted him to have every three hours I got discouraged because they would dump it down his feeding tube and shake there heads…but God would say…it doesn’t matter. I began to realize that even if Ivan refused to eat at all…this going home thing was in the bag. God was going to change their minds and it wouldn’t matter. Sure enough that night I let Ivan sleep. He woke up when he was hungry and I fed him. He ate very well but it wasn’t up to their standards. It was as if they didn’t even notice though. They were all excited with every drop he took in and called it progress…I called it normal. The next day I let his schedule go and fed him when he wanted to eat…they didn’t care. Yesterday morning his doctor came in and said he doesn’t need any more medication…he talked to the NICU doctor and was completely convinced that the medication was unnecessary, in fact…the medication he had taken thus far was unnecessary and he suddenly didn’t know why he was on it all. If his eating improves, he said, he can go home today. Well, his eating didn’t exactly improve, but somehow they missed that and the feeding tube came out in the afternoon. One of the other doctors told me I could breastfeed and minute by minute news came that we were gaining ground on going home. I felt like I was one of those people in the Wendy’s commercial with the cheeseburgers that make people do what you want them too…”What about now?” God didn’t have to make our son super man in order to get him home, He just guided a few men and women into right thinking. I was pretty impressed, but then He is God, I shouldn’t expect too much less.

Today has been pretty relaxed, other than a very hurried trip to the doctors office for a quick follow up visit. We are trying to get our house in order for Christmas and company and all that is to come in the next few weeks. Owen seems to like his little brother pretty well and Ivan has done very well adjusting to his surroundings. He knows that he is home and is acting just like a normal, healthy, 8 day old baby is supposed to act.

This picture (to the right) was taken this morning. I had swaddled Ivan and laid him on his tummy for a little while and when he woke up and couldn’t move his arms he began scooting himself forward and pushed himself right through the neck of his little gown. It didn’t get him any further and he was a little frustrated…of course I snapped the picture before making the rescue…what good mother wouldn’t?

Well, that’s enough information for now…I need to get busy. I need to give Ivan a bath but first I need to take the toys out of his bathtub and clean it up. I was going to have that done before he was born but somehow time got away from me…or was it that surprise birth a scant four weeks early? Ah yes, it’s always good to get a surprise.