One of the hardest things as a NICU parent is watching your baby get stuck a million times. Surgery days are rough and most of the emotions come beforehand when the nursing staff is getting your little one ready. We had surgery #3 and the chaos of emotions is still there. You hurt for him. You want to take his place. You want to hold him. You want to comfort him. You want this all to be in the past, a distant memory. But the hike ahead is still a long one with some steep mountains to climb.
Berkley had a total of atleast 6 IVs in just a few days, numerous heel pricks, and a PICC put in. (PICC is just a central line IV they can use so he isn't stuck repeatedly for more IVs). There comes a day when you know he is tired, just plain tired. Tired of needles, tired of everyone poking him, tired of surgeries, tired of lights and sounds, tired of xrays, and the list goes on. I feel like yesterday was his breaking point (Maybe because I feel close to mine as well.) Hopefully now, we are done with surgeries. But I said that before. Berkley at 40 days old has officially had as many surgeries as I have in 33 years. Yes, let that soak in. 40 days old....As hard as I pray there isn't anymore surgeries, I'm sure there is more to come.
Surgeries weekly is emotionally and mentally draining us. We want to help him and we can't. The doctors, nurse practitioners, and nursing/respiratory staff are all amazing! (Seriously, angels here on earth taking care of tiny humans, taking care of our baby boy.) But the emotions of feeling helpless and scared do not go away.
The silent walk behind the bed as they push him in the isolator down the hall speaks louder than words. Another surgery. The anesthesia tech watching his stats and squeezing what I would call a balloon mask to help him breathe. Walking and squeezing that balloon over and over with each step. (Its helping him breathe as he is unhooked from his vent.) That walk is the longest if you are the parent watching every squeeze. I hate this part. The replay of what just happened last week...going to get on the elevator, going down to the 1st floor, he will go left to the OR and we will go right to he lobby, and the anesthesia team will say 'we will take care of him'. As much as we trust them, we just feel scared, anxious, panic, and worry. We usually try to do something to keep our minds off of it while we wait. That hour seems like 5 hours. Impatiently waiting on the call to say surgery is done.
The worst part is that after surgery is when I worry most. The series of questions that go through my mind are overwhelming. Will his vitals be ok? Will he be in pain? Will his blood pressure be stable? Will he need a blood transfusion? Will HE be okay? Will his oxygen rate need to go up? Will he be initiating breaths or letting the vent do it all? Will he sleep through the night and be stable or will we get numerous calls? Did this fix everything?
I'll never be able to explain the full emotions in detail, but I do know this Mother's Day I will be hugging Berkley a little harder when I get to hold him. I never understood this kind of love until he came into this world. Everyday is scary... every single day I worry about him and what is going to happen that day. We know its a rollercoaster, but even knowing that you have to be hopeful. Hopeful that the bad days are behind you. Hopeful of the future. Hopeful that he will grow. Hopeful that he wil heal. Hopeful that the light at the end of the tunnel will soon turn on for you to see. Hopeful of some sort of normalcy. Hopeful of love overcoming all.
Berkley had a total of atleast 6 IVs in just a few days, numerous heel pricks, and a PICC put in. (PICC is just a central line IV they can use so he isn't stuck repeatedly for more IVs). There comes a day when you know he is tired, just plain tired. Tired of needles, tired of everyone poking him, tired of surgeries, tired of lights and sounds, tired of xrays, and the list goes on. I feel like yesterday was his breaking point (Maybe because I feel close to mine as well.) Hopefully now, we are done with surgeries. But I said that before. Berkley at 40 days old has officially had as many surgeries as I have in 33 years. Yes, let that soak in. 40 days old....As hard as I pray there isn't anymore surgeries, I'm sure there is more to come.
Surgeries weekly is emotionally and mentally draining us. We want to help him and we can't. The doctors, nurse practitioners, and nursing/respiratory staff are all amazing! (Seriously, angels here on earth taking care of tiny humans, taking care of our baby boy.) But the emotions of feeling helpless and scared do not go away.
The silent walk behind the bed as they push him in the isolator down the hall speaks louder than words. Another surgery. The anesthesia tech watching his stats and squeezing what I would call a balloon mask to help him breathe. Walking and squeezing that balloon over and over with each step. (Its helping him breathe as he is unhooked from his vent.) That walk is the longest if you are the parent watching every squeeze. I hate this part. The replay of what just happened last week...going to get on the elevator, going down to the 1st floor, he will go left to the OR and we will go right to he lobby, and the anesthesia team will say 'we will take care of him'. As much as we trust them, we just feel scared, anxious, panic, and worry. We usually try to do something to keep our minds off of it while we wait. That hour seems like 5 hours. Impatiently waiting on the call to say surgery is done.
The worst part is that after surgery is when I worry most. The series of questions that go through my mind are overwhelming. Will his vitals be ok? Will he be in pain? Will his blood pressure be stable? Will he need a blood transfusion? Will HE be okay? Will his oxygen rate need to go up? Will he be initiating breaths or letting the vent do it all? Will he sleep through the night and be stable or will we get numerous calls? Did this fix everything?
I'll never be able to explain the full emotions in detail, but I do know this Mother's Day I will be hugging Berkley a little harder when I get to hold him. I never understood this kind of love until he came into this world. Everyday is scary... every single day I worry about him and what is going to happen that day. We know its a rollercoaster, but even knowing that you have to be hopeful. Hopeful that the bad days are behind you. Hopeful of the future. Hopeful that he will grow. Hopeful that he wil heal. Hopeful that the light at the end of the tunnel will soon turn on for you to see. Hopeful of some sort of normalcy. Hopeful of love overcoming all.
1 Corinthians 13:4-7
"Love is patient and kind; love does not envy or boast; it is not arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice at wrong doing, but rejoices with the truth. Love bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things,endures all things."
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