Last week was pretty slow. Nicholas has EI, speech, PT and OT. They all come to our house so they are easy appointments since we don't have to run around places. He did well.
We have a busy week ahead of us. Today he had an appointment with the GI doctor. He was actually seen by the nurse practitioner. They are keeping him on EleCare which he won't drink. We brought that up and she told us to increase the calories to 30 an ounce. That is what we were making it so she either didn't read the chart or that wasn't in it. So that got us nowhere with him not wanting to drink. They think he has a milk allergy but won't do allergy testing. He never had any problems with his formula but they found the EE, but how can they be sure it is milk without testing? He never threw up the formula so he wasn't showing signs of a milk allergy. We are weaning the Carafate by one dose every 5 days. If he does well without that we will wean the Prevacid. He gained a pound in the two months since his last visit but didn't grow in length.
He has Early Intervention tonight. Tomorrow is speech and PT. Wednesday we have to cancel OT because of work conflicts. He has an ultrasound of his gallbladder and liver Wednesday morning. Not sure why they are looking at his liver but they will check on his gallstone. Thursday he has his 18 month well visit at the pediatrician. Hopefully she can help us with the not wanting to drink and maybe allergy testing. Friday he has an appointment with the Theratogs guy. The vest part has turned into a belly shirt (But he isn't growing?) and some of the straps have worn out.
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A few days old
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A few days old
Welcome
Nicholas was born on November 8, 2008 at only 24 weeks 3 days gestation. He was a 2 lb. 1 oz, 13 inch micro-preemie. He is our little miracle and this is his journey.
To read Nicholas' whole story, start with Dec. 2008 posts.
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About Me
Helpful Links
Preemie Experience
The Preemie Experience
The preemie experience is the shattering of all your dreams
For a normal, healthy delivery,
Of the ability to carry home a beautiful squirming bundle
After a short stay in the hospital.
It is lying there in your hospital room listening to
The happy sounds of whole families joined
Together by the birth of a grandchild, cousin, niece,
or nephew, and knowing that your
Child is miles away and may not survive long enough
For you to see or simply touch.
It is that first glimpse of a skinny, scrawny, not much bigger
Than a Barbie doll child
And feeling, fear, awe, and joy for such a fragile soul.
It is sitting by your baby’s “bedside” day after day,
Week after week, month after month,
Alternating between the emotional high of “Look, his eyes are open,” or “he’s crying!”
And the lows of “I’m sorry, something has shown up in the ultrasound,”
Or even “There is nothing we can do…”
It is hearing the alarms go off for the twentieth time in less
Than fifteen minutes because your
Child’s heart rate keeps hitting zero.
It is watching children dying around you, wondering if
Your child will be next.
It is hearing your child’s cry of distress as the nurses
Insert yet another IV and do another
Round of daily blood tests.
It is meeting other parents of children who are doing far better
And wondering, “Why me?”
And meeting parents of children who have just died,
And praising God for His mercy
To your child and feeling guilty because your child is alive
And someone else is grieving for theirs.
It is days of nightmarish testing and coping with less
Than positive results to the tests.
It is days of joy at seeing the first eyelash appear,
The child gain a whole ounce in one day,
And two bright shiny eyes look at you and into your soul,
And knowing that your child now recognizes you as Mama or Dada;
Or perhaps looks at you and does not see you at all…
It is that final hurdle before coming home!
It is the sorrow of waiting for the monitor company Representative to show you what to do
If the alarm sounds when your child is choking,
Gasping for breath, or simply dying.
It is the joy of just being away from all those nurses
And tubes and wires and beeps, and
Walking into the nursery you hastily prepared because,
after all,
The child wasn’t due for another four months!
It is thinking the nightmare is over…only to realize it still Continues in the form of
Such acronyms as PVL, RSV, BPD, CP and numerous others.
It is the final realization that those developmental delays
Have to be dealt with,
That reflux is a normal and unfortunate
occurrence in most preemies,
That the constant fight to gain weight is in direct proportion
To a preemie’s ability to do so.
It is watching a child struggle to pick up his or her head, sit, Crawl, or walk.
It is witnessing only silence when the child should be babbling,
Because the child cannot hear.
It is the mental images of a child running and playing
And communicating with others in a
Perfectly normal manner that are marred when you face years of therapy
In order to simply get the child to eat by himself or herself,
To talk or walk and then run.
The preemie experience is a journey…A journey through your soul in order to find the faith and strength to cope,
A journey of the mind when you face the emotional weariness,
A journey of the heart…to accept that, no matter what,
This child is yours,
And you will love this child no matter what.
The preemie experience is the shattering of all your dreams
For a normal, healthy delivery,
Of the ability to carry home a beautiful squirming bundle
After a short stay in the hospital.
It is lying there in your hospital room listening to
The happy sounds of whole families joined
Together by the birth of a grandchild, cousin, niece,
or nephew, and knowing that your
Child is miles away and may not survive long enough
For you to see or simply touch.
It is that first glimpse of a skinny, scrawny, not much bigger
Than a Barbie doll child
And feeling, fear, awe, and joy for such a fragile soul.
It is sitting by your baby’s “bedside” day after day,
Week after week, month after month,
Alternating between the emotional high of “Look, his eyes are open,” or “he’s crying!”
And the lows of “I’m sorry, something has shown up in the ultrasound,”
Or even “There is nothing we can do…”
It is hearing the alarms go off for the twentieth time in less
Than fifteen minutes because your
Child’s heart rate keeps hitting zero.
It is watching children dying around you, wondering if
Your child will be next.
It is hearing your child’s cry of distress as the nurses
Insert yet another IV and do another
Round of daily blood tests.
It is meeting other parents of children who are doing far better
And wondering, “Why me?”
And meeting parents of children who have just died,
And praising God for His mercy
To your child and feeling guilty because your child is alive
And someone else is grieving for theirs.
It is days of nightmarish testing and coping with less
Than positive results to the tests.
It is days of joy at seeing the first eyelash appear,
The child gain a whole ounce in one day,
And two bright shiny eyes look at you and into your soul,
And knowing that your child now recognizes you as Mama or Dada;
Or perhaps looks at you and does not see you at all…
It is that final hurdle before coming home!
It is the sorrow of waiting for the monitor company Representative to show you what to do
If the alarm sounds when your child is choking,
Gasping for breath, or simply dying.
It is the joy of just being away from all those nurses
And tubes and wires and beeps, and
Walking into the nursery you hastily prepared because,
after all,
The child wasn’t due for another four months!
It is thinking the nightmare is over…only to realize it still Continues in the form of
Such acronyms as PVL, RSV, BPD, CP and numerous others.
It is the final realization that those developmental delays
Have to be dealt with,
That reflux is a normal and unfortunate
occurrence in most preemies,
That the constant fight to gain weight is in direct proportion
To a preemie’s ability to do so.
It is watching a child struggle to pick up his or her head, sit, Crawl, or walk.
It is witnessing only silence when the child should be babbling,
Because the child cannot hear.
It is the mental images of a child running and playing
And communicating with others in a
Perfectly normal manner that are marred when you face years of therapy
In order to simply get the child to eat by himself or herself,
To talk or walk and then run.
The preemie experience is a journey…A journey through your soul in order to find the faith and strength to cope,
A journey of the mind when you face the emotional weariness,
A journey of the heart…to accept that, no matter what,
This child is yours,
And you will love this child no matter what.
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