One of our doctors in the NICU is someone we particularly enjoy. Brilliant (as they all are in our group of neonatologists,) slightly mercurial, and always ready with a folksy story to impart some nugget of wisdom about parenting.
In the weeks surrounding the holidays, we felt very good about our boys’ progress- steadily decreasing oxygen requirements, increased feedings and weights, tests passed with flying colors. Without wanting to jinx ourselves, we began talking about preparations for bringing them home (CPR classes, installing the car seats, etc.) Despite this, the warned about downturn came.
While “rounding” with one of the nurses (the term describing the movement from one bedside to the next for the collection of patient status,) we welcomed the doctor with the pride that can only come from being the parents of twins. And then came the cold water.
“Here we have the twins. Finnegan and Luca. They eat a little, they sleep, one of them still needs oxygen, they’re not very alert. All in all, very immature babies. Your twins are like slugs.”
Kind of hard to take, but it was medicine that needed to go down.
Last night while holding Finn, the reality that our adventure in the NICU is far from over set in. Our boys are preemies. They are only 36-months old gestationally. We need to be patient. Finn in particular has gone from low-flow oxygen back to 2 liters of high-flow. A recent x-ray showed some fluid remaining in his lungs and he’s once again been prescribed a diuretic to address his edema.
Luca, as if trying to slow down to wait for his brother, has slacked off on how much milk he’ll take from his bottle. In the last 36 hours, it’s as if he’s awakened with a new set of sensory tools- his eyes are open more often and he constantly scans his surroundings. Our theory is that this is a new distraction for him at feeding time- he’s so busy looking around that he can’t concentrate on suck-swallow-breath.
While I held Finn last night, attempting with limited effect to sheild his ears from the noisy monitors and activity of the NICU, my eyes well up with tears and I held him closer. “I’ve got to get these boys home and away from this place,” I thought to myself with a heavy heart. And then I remembered another saying our doctor uses regularly to describe our lessons in parenting, “You’re learning patience.”
Wow– talk about tactless! I would have been pretty angry at the lack of sensitivity– especially since you were standing right there! I’m sorry for the backslide! It’s always two steps forward and one step back.
It’s so hard once they start eating and breathing well NOT to think about them coming home, but that is the worst part, I think. I know toward the end of Jack’s stay, we started hating the NICU, the nurses, etc. They weren’t being kind enough or compassionate enough with him and we started realizing that no one is going to care for him as well as we could. Jack stayed about three weeks past when we thought he was ready to go home because his heart rate dropped so much when he was pooping(haha)– it was so excruciating. They wanted him to go 5 days w/o a drop, and for three weeks he went three days, four days, BAM! Start over! Sooooo frustrating!
Just hang in there… I know how slow the time is going right now. They’ll be out before you know it and time flies after that! I’d definitely take the time now to get all the little stuff done– you won’t have time for anything but babies soon!
A little abrasive? Yes. Full-on tactless? No. I should stress that we have an established relationship with this particular doc, and he has guided us through some particularly dark times so far (more later). Did it sting a little to hear? Absolutely, but it was said with compassion as a targeted reminder that we need to let these boys continue at their own pace.
God prepared me to be a better mother by giving me my twins, Emma & Jacob, at 27 wks. Their story is here: http://beyondjems.wordpress.com/2008/06/11/gods-modern-day-miracles/
2.5 months in the NICU and dealing with wimpy white boy symptom is some what of a life changing experience. like that song – 1 step forward and 2 steps back or vice versa sometimes.
Hang in there!
Did the doc call them slugs or the nurse? I was under the impression it was a nurse and that’s what I was referring to when I mentioned it was tactless. No matter which of them said it, it’s not okay to call babies slugs. There are far more compassionate ways to get the point across. But I guess if you’re okay with it, no need for me to get my hackles up on your behalf and/or try to commiserate about misbehaving nurses.
Well hey, it made for a good blog post.
Seriously, in other circumstances, it would have been totally inappropriate, but in the context of the relationship we have with our doc, it made perfect sense. But I appreciate you having our back!