I finally got to wear normal clothes again! :) Holding our boy on December 21st. Trying out some Christmas hats. Yes, I'm smiling. I had to, it was a picture and I was holding my son. (That's the feeding tube in Levi's nose by the way, not oxygen. Thankfully he didn't need that.)
Monday, December 21st. I can't say this was the worst day ever in my life anymore. Losing our second baby now has to rival that. But it was one of the worst.
Let's start with some positive/funny things.
I do remember trying to change Levi's diaper in the morning with Andrew. And Levi continuously ppeed and pooped everywhere. I swear we used like 4 diapers before that was over. It was pretty ridiculously funny.
Then I was discharged. I no longer had to stay in the hospital. Which in theory isn't so bad, but it was. Just imagine how excited/scared you were to go home with your baby. Now subtract the baby. So now you're just sad and scared. That's bordering on it.
Not to count in that we had to pack up over 2 weeks worth of belongings that had made it to the hospital. And move into a motel. And go find a hospital grade pump for well, you know. And you're in a strange town. And then you have to go shopping for undergarments to wear while using said pump. And have a prescription for incredibly strong narcotics filled. And try to find a few other necessities that you well need. And it's 4 days before Christmas so the stores are just INSANE. And all you want to do is cry because you're in intense pain physically and emotionally, you're a disaster. Your teeny-tiny baby is all "alone" in the hospital and you're out here fighting not happy Christmas shoppers. Yeah, it sucked.
We did race back to the hospital in the evening because the March of Dimes was having a pasta dinner for all parents who had children in the NICU. Let me tell you, that helped so much! The March of Dimes was an unbelievable resource for me especially while Levi was in the NICU. Not only did they provide practical opportunities every week, like the meal and a cpr course, they also provided a chance to visit with other Mommas and Dads and have someone to share your experience with. As well as emotionally encouraging things like making a bracelet with Levi's name on it and doing some scrapbooking.
So the dinner really encouraged us while feeding our tummies. I also got to talk to other Mommas who had had a c-section and learn that I would in fact walk straight again.
So then we went and spent a little bit of time with Levi and Andrew changed his diaper all by himself. :) I was very proud.
Then we had to leave. You see, the next day Andrew was going back to work and I was staying near the hospital to be near Levi. So I would be mostly all alone. So we went shopping for some breakfast food, lunch stuff and snacks. I remember standing in the milk section of the grocery store and seeing a Momma with her little baby in the cart cooing at her. And I burst out sobbing. Just cried my eyes out into Andrew. Because that should have been me, but it wasn't. My baby wasn't with me, he was in the hospital without us there. That was the worst moment I think. I'm sure the woman thought I was nuts but I didn't care. I just hurt so much.
The good news? I got to sleep in the same bed as Andrew for the first time in almost 3 weeks. That was good. I tried to sleep.
Sidenote: I'm going to tell this now so that I don't have to think about it again: We were currently staying in a cheaper but okay motel because it was what we could afford. The hospital had a guest house but it was actually more expensive than this motel. Some dear women that Pastor Darryl found through our sister church in that town had volunteered to drive me back and forth to the hospital since I wasn't allowed to drive for about a week. Which was great, until we realized how umm shall I say "druggie" the motel was. So on Wednesday our churched chipped in and I moved to the motel/house that was on hospital grounds. It was super nice and they took great care of me. But it was an emotional unfortunate incident that if it hadn't of happened, it would have been less stressful. As it was, I spent one night in that motel alone and I cried my heart out, because I was alone. But it did get better. It's just yucky when I think about it, so I really don't want to talk about it more. But those dear ladies were wonderful and blessed. And our church, they were awesome. Not only did they help with lodging that first week, the next week a family in our church put us up in a rental house they owned that wasn't furnished, but gave us a place to sleep. I couldn't handle that the first week, I still couldn't walk well enough and such. But it was awesome the second week. Some friends in our Sunday School class also fixed our car which had broken down before all this began. So after that first week we got our car back and I could drive myself finally.
All good things. So I didn't want to end too negatively. Except to say those first few nights were incredibly hard. So let's not talk about it again. Thanks.
Let's start with some positive/funny things.
I do remember trying to change Levi's diaper in the morning with Andrew. And Levi continuously ppeed and pooped everywhere. I swear we used like 4 diapers before that was over. It was pretty ridiculously funny.
Then I was discharged. I no longer had to stay in the hospital. Which in theory isn't so bad, but it was. Just imagine how excited/scared you were to go home with your baby. Now subtract the baby. So now you're just sad and scared. That's bordering on it.
Not to count in that we had to pack up over 2 weeks worth of belongings that had made it to the hospital. And move into a motel. And go find a hospital grade pump for well, you know. And you're in a strange town. And then you have to go shopping for undergarments to wear while using said pump. And have a prescription for incredibly strong narcotics filled. And try to find a few other necessities that you well need. And it's 4 days before Christmas so the stores are just INSANE. And all you want to do is cry because you're in intense pain physically and emotionally, you're a disaster. Your teeny-tiny baby is all "alone" in the hospital and you're out here fighting not happy Christmas shoppers. Yeah, it sucked.
We did race back to the hospital in the evening because the March of Dimes was having a pasta dinner for all parents who had children in the NICU. Let me tell you, that helped so much! The March of Dimes was an unbelievable resource for me especially while Levi was in the NICU. Not only did they provide practical opportunities every week, like the meal and a cpr course, they also provided a chance to visit with other Mommas and Dads and have someone to share your experience with. As well as emotionally encouraging things like making a bracelet with Levi's name on it and doing some scrapbooking.
So the dinner really encouraged us while feeding our tummies. I also got to talk to other Mommas who had had a c-section and learn that I would in fact walk straight again.
So then we went and spent a little bit of time with Levi and Andrew changed his diaper all by himself. :) I was very proud.
Then we had to leave. You see, the next day Andrew was going back to work and I was staying near the hospital to be near Levi. So I would be mostly all alone. So we went shopping for some breakfast food, lunch stuff and snacks. I remember standing in the milk section of the grocery store and seeing a Momma with her little baby in the cart cooing at her. And I burst out sobbing. Just cried my eyes out into Andrew. Because that should have been me, but it wasn't. My baby wasn't with me, he was in the hospital without us there. That was the worst moment I think. I'm sure the woman thought I was nuts but I didn't care. I just hurt so much.
The good news? I got to sleep in the same bed as Andrew for the first time in almost 3 weeks. That was good. I tried to sleep.
Sidenote: I'm going to tell this now so that I don't have to think about it again: We were currently staying in a cheaper but okay motel because it was what we could afford. The hospital had a guest house but it was actually more expensive than this motel. Some dear women that Pastor Darryl found through our sister church in that town had volunteered to drive me back and forth to the hospital since I wasn't allowed to drive for about a week. Which was great, until we realized how umm shall I say "druggie" the motel was. So on Wednesday our churched chipped in and I moved to the motel/house that was on hospital grounds. It was super nice and they took great care of me. But it was an emotional unfortunate incident that if it hadn't of happened, it would have been less stressful. As it was, I spent one night in that motel alone and I cried my heart out, because I was alone. But it did get better. It's just yucky when I think about it, so I really don't want to talk about it more. But those dear ladies were wonderful and blessed. And our church, they were awesome. Not only did they help with lodging that first week, the next week a family in our church put us up in a rental house they owned that wasn't furnished, but gave us a place to sleep. I couldn't handle that the first week, I still couldn't walk well enough and such. But it was awesome the second week. Some friends in our Sunday School class also fixed our car which had broken down before all this began. So after that first week we got our car back and I could drive myself finally.
All good things. So I didn't want to end too negatively. Except to say those first few nights were incredibly hard. So let's not talk about it again. Thanks.
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