Vivian was born at 6:29pm. Everyone was immediately in love, of course. They took her to the special needs nursery shortly after she was born to make sure she was ok, due to the stress of labor and her small size (5lbs, 6oz). Her body temperature was low, so they kept her under a warmer in my room after they brought her back. She also wasn’t eating much. They kept checking on her and around midnight they decided she needed IV fluids and antibiotics. Down to the special needs nursery she went. Numerous attempts to wake up my exhausted husband – failed (he had done so much work that day!). I followed the nurses down the hall, and then was instructed to leave while they started her IV. I paced the halls, waiting to hear what was going on. They informed me that she didn’t cry when they ran the line, which was a sign of a sick baby. It would be a while until the doctor could see her, so I went back to my room and tried to get some rest. The next morning we walked down to the nursery, where our baby girl was in an incubator, hooked up to an IV and numerous monitors.
I broke down. I had so many questions. I suppose I was a little upset that I didn’t have time to prepare for this. With as many advancements in medicine as there is today, why weren’t they able to tell me something was wrong months before, or even what was wrong now? Staring at Vivian, I wanted to make her safe. I wanted to take any pain away and solve all the problems. I wanted to take her home.
It was surreal when I got discharged from the hospital. I came in with two and was leaving with one. I didn’t go far or stay gone long. A hot shower in my own house was what I was craving. I got cleaned up, played with the animals, and back to the hospital I went. I paid for a boarding room, so I could stay as close to Vivian as possible. I didn’t want other people taking care of my baby – that was my job. Don’t get me wrong, I did sleep through some feedings and ventured out once or twice. The nurses were all great, especially one that we bonded with and I will treasure forever. She showed us how to bathe her, gave us lots of helpful advice and worked with me to try and get Vivian to breastfeed, with not much success.
She was out of the incubator after two days. Now we could hold and feed her all we wanted – in the privacy of a room filled with nurses and about 9 other screaming babies. Two more days passed and she was finally regulating her temperature and eating enough CC’s (not ounces) to go home. Finally, we will have our family in the comfort of our home. We left that day with vague answers from the doctor – turns out Vivian had a little something called IUGR.
babygirlviv 