He was swaddled and brought over to me to see and kiss, then whisked away to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, or NICU.
I was stitched and stapled and taken to recovery. While in recovery, my parents arrived.
"Daddy!" I exclaimed as they peered through the door. Dad said he would not have recognized me if I had not called out to him--I was that swollen.
On that note, if you are wondering, I had toxemia. The nurses were just thrilled to see such a text book case. I had all the symptoms and signs, and a seemingly "perfect" example of how quickly this disease can attack.
An hour or so later, I was taken to the sixth floor to the NICU to see Ethan. They pulled my bed right along side of his warming table/bassinet thing. He was under the bili=light for jaundice. I got to see him for a few minutes, then they rolled me down the hall to my postpartum room.
"I'm going to throw up!" I shouted as we entered the room.
Ronnie handed me a trash can, in which I dry heaved for a couple of minutes. That trash can would see much more of that as each time I tried to drink something, it came right back up.
At around 4 in the morning, the nice nurse suggested I have a shot of something that would take the nausea away.
"They make a shot for that?!!"
She came back in a couple of minutes and gave it to me. I fell asleep.
When breakfast came the next morning, the heaving came back. I asked the new nurse, "Could I have that shot that makes me not throw up?"
She came back after asking my doctor. Syringe in hand!
Ah, liquid nutrients!
Here are some pictures of Ethan's first days.
That's Ronnie's hand out stretched to show how long Ethan was. Ethan was on a respirator for the first 10 days, I think.
And again, Ronnie's hand beside Ethan. The white "beauty mask" was for protecting Ethan's eyes from the bright light.
Ronnie and me holding Ethan's hands. What a grip he had on my thumb! Such tiny little hands.
1 comment:
He was so tiny. Except for those feet. Huge feet!
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