July 13, 2013

day 3.

I'm starting to get a little behind on my posts...

My goal is to write them as the day progresses, so I don't forget as much. But today was full of visitors and making sure I got my pain meds right on time, so I slacked a little on the blogging. Hopefully there aren't too many gaps in the day...


I woke up this morning at about 5:15 and knew my wonderful nurse would be there to give me another dose of Percocet at 5:30 so I didn't fall back to sleep. I spent the better part of an hour yesterday carefully peeling off my bandage so I could finally shower. It was marvelous! I was a little nervous that the whole thing would hurt my incision, but as long as there's not any direct contact, the warm water actually feels pretty nice. It took me at least 30 minutes to get myself even remotely feeling clean - I took a lot of breaks to rest against the wall - but I felt really good and energized afterward.

Since it was pretty close to the shift change and John was still sleeping I decided to try out pumping again. It's definitely my least favorite part of motherhood so far, but since all Ruthe's getting right now is a lame baby version of Gatorade, I know it's important that I get her something her body can really use!! It's just so awkward and boring and painful. :-/

At about 7:30, I woke up John so we could go down and see Ruthe right at 8. (It ended up being more like 8:30 because I had to take some vitamins.) She had a pretty good night, and the nurse had just finished all her tests, so we got to just sit and hold her little hands and head and feet. She was pretty grouchy, and it didn't help when I changed her hat so she could be our little "grouchy ladybug". By 9:15 I was exhausted, and my pain meds were wearing off, so we went upstairs and I tried to nap for a while after my mom got here.

I really wish I could remember what order our visitors came in today, but that's just a little too much for my lazy brain. While I was down visiting Ruthe with some of our wonderful friends, her monitor kept going off, which we've come to expect as normal. Generally the nurses just turn the alarm off and go back to whatever they were doing. The nurse today was like a hovercraft. And she kept glaring at me whenever the monitor would sound again, like I was doing it on purpose. I didn't appreciate that. [Um, hi, just holding my brand-new tiny baby's little hand and telling my family and friends about her pending open-heart surgeries, don't mind me.]

We went down to see Ruthe again a little later with my cousin, and I guess she'd been having a hard time keeping her oxygen levels stable, so the nurse was a little rude about not wanting us to touch her. We knew she'd start having tough days once she ran out of all the good stuff her body had stored up from life on the inside, but really, the last thing I want to hear is a stranger (albeit a well-educated and medically-trained one) tell me I can't even touch my own baby. Luckily my cousin had spent enough of her own time with a baby in the NICU (actually in the exact same spot that Ruthe's in now!) and so she wasn't offended that we couldn't open the isolette. But I was fuming on the inside, and so impressed with myself for not breaking-down right there.

Now that I've had time to think about it, Ruthe had seen a lot of people by that time yesterday, and I'm sure the nurse only meant that she didn't want her to be over-stimulated by all the touching and talking. But the way she handled it was just a little too far outside the realm of sensitive for me to ever be able to like her now. Unfortunately.

Tonight has been a little better. We went down to visit her after the shift change, and this night nurse was really sweet. Ruthe had a nice long break from visitors so when we got there I'm sure she was glad for a little family-time. She does this funny little thing where she fidgets a little and then tries to open her eyes and get a peek at how concerned you are for her comfort... at least that's how I interpret it. She also got a little attack of hiccups while we were there, and I'm sure that was making her a little mad that we couldn't do anything about it.

She is just absolutely the cutest baby in the world!! Even though her grouchy-face makes her look a little too much like Tyler for my taste. We'll just try to always keep a bow on her head!


At some point I'm going to have to get a nice enough picture for her birth announcement... But I really hate that those stinking' ventilator tubes will be front and center. Nobody will mind if I make it more of a "we're finally home from the hospital" announcement, right?! I mean, how many of her friends and family don't already know all there is to know about her from here and Facebook?!




2 comments:

  1. Your post reminded me about this nurse James had while he was in the NICU. She totally meant well, but she would always follow protocol and always give us bad news and it was easy to hate her. Somehow it made the NICU experience feel a bit more like normal life when I could tell David, "Oh, geez, it's the nurse I hate." Honestly, it was nice to have feelings that weren't just feeling anxious or sad. Ironically, she ended up being one of the nurses who gave us the good news that James was finally showing improvements, so she redeemed herself in the end. :-)

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    1. I'm so glad you had a similar experience! I feel so bad saying I don't like this nurse, because sometimes she's really really great. Like when John asked about giving Ruthe a blessing she was all over it - making sure we could get enough privacy and giving some other nurses the heads-up. But she's extra particular about "touch time" and all the numbers on the monitor being at certain levels before we can do anything, and it's those moments when I really want to scream in her face "This is MY baby!! I get to do whatever I want!!!" I really embrace those 'normal' emotions, however severe or negative they might be.

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