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August 1, 2015

Yesterday was my 30th birthday.  It was also Avie's 30 DAY old birthday.

Yup, my little breath of life is a month old already.  She is still in the NICU, with no projected date of when she will come home.  We had to stop feeding her and put the suction tube back in her nose (replogle tube).  

Her tummy got distended (swollen) because we were feeding her but nothing was coming out her bottom.  The surgeons think we might have started feeding her too soon.  Even though she showed all the signs of being ready to eat, they think the suture site in her intestines is too swollen to let the waste pass through.  

The milk was digested in the stomach and then passed to the intestines- but just got stuck in there at a point.  I hate the thought that we shoved the bottle in her mouth every 3 hours and she ate it because she didn't know any better.  My beautiful, helpless child.

I have nothing witty or creative to say.  I'm numb... I don't know if this is because she is a month old already, because I'm 30, because she isn't home yet... we are at a standstill or because it seems we attempted to make foie gras with my baby.

Once again, we are waiting for poop.  "Wait and see" has to be my least favorite phrase in the world now.  What's happening while we are waiting?  What is my baby feeling?  What is she thinking?  How long do we wait... and THEN what??

I want her home so badly that I'm choking on it.  The thought is a lump in my throat and a pain in my chest.  My whole body aches to hold her at home, to dress her, to change her, bathe her, nap with her.  This must be that fierce love that I've heard mothers talk about.

I want nothing more than for her to be functioning and healthy.  Literally, nothing.  I spent my 30th birthday watching her sleep, talking to doctors, staring into space and crying in my husband's armswhile my Mom sat by quietly ... so this is my 'golden year', huh?

Let's hope it turns around really damn quick. 

Shit, maybe it's my attitude that needs to turn around.

This isn't about me, I know... I'm a wobbly puddle of nerve-less mush... she is a bright-eyed bundle of wiggly tininess.  She needs positive vibes and I'm not providing her with much of that.  I'm yearning, worried and depressed.  Maybe I should stay away for a day so I don't pollute her little room with my fog?  But not seeing her for a day would literally kill me

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