NICU was another scary place, at least for us parents. Alyssa had her own private room, NICU 7 baby, a new name was given to her, to add to her new "nicknames". My husband wheeled me in to visit her, she was hooked to heart monitors, oxygen saturation and biliblanket that made her look like a glow doll. Once again, the waterworks opened up. What a roll-a-coster! Alarms were so loud, and scary. I am a nurse, so I should be used to that, but not with my daughter. At least the nurses were great.! They let me keep on breastfeeding at visits, and also I would pump in my room and bring her milk for the night.
Alyssa was seen again by the cardiologist after her results, she was given an ultrasound of the heart and an echo. He went back to our room to informed us that he had good news, no heart mumur was seen, as it has closed and femoral pulses were normal. He would give her the discharge, so she could go home with a promise to see him again in his office for a follow up. For once, those were good news, no heart trouble, thank God. Now, we only had to wait on the GI follow up, but Aly started having low heart rate recordings which needed to be looked into. We asked the cardiologist, but he claimed it could be due to her prematurity.
We met a new neonatologist, she was very kind and explained us our baby was going to be observed; therefore, she could not go home with me on the day of my discharge. Another hit to my heart, I always had the beautiful thought of going home with my baby, but this time would not be possible. The NICU was opened to parents at all times, so the nurses comforted me and told me I could call them at any time. I went home on a Sunday ( my doctor even pushed an extra day for me to stay). At home, all the baby items stared at my face and mocked me. My husband promised me to take me at least once a day, as he had to start to work again. Poor him, he spend his whole vacation in the hospital with me, it was a relief as I couldnt pay attention to all the news we got at once. My mom would also take me to see the baby, so I was able to go twice per day to drop off milk and feed her. My poor son had to go to the hospital with us and do his homework while I breastfed her. Christopher is only 10, but he has seen our pain and our tears. I explained him why his sister was in the hospital, and he was a trooper. He handled it better than us, and he always comforted me on my "alone" times. Once everyone was at work, I was alone and all the thoughts would hit me again: fear, sadness, grieveness, etc. It has been the worst times of my life. Visiting the baby would make me feel better, but once we went home, the feelings came to me again.
The doctor finally informed us the baby was being observed for reflux and if they were to send her home, she might needed to go with an apnea monitor and it was encouraged we all learn CPR. They ordered the machine at the hospital and after 9 days in the NICU, she was sent home with us. We picked her up at night and left at midnight. I was wheeled out with my baby in my arms, what a relief!.


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