#but as a level IV NICU we get the worst of the worst

[sarcasticbabywhispererjess]

A couple of the nurses on my unit are doing a study on moral distress, so at least one shift a week they’ll pass out surveys to rank how morally distressed you’re feeling and why. Monday night was one such night (when I was caring for the very sick baby in my last post). I was very busy and barely had time to sit and chart for longer than 20mins at a stretch. The nurse came up to me at the end of the shift, “George, did you get a chance to fill out your survey?” She knew full well that I hadn’t.

Me, “Sure fucking didn’t.” and I handed back the blank survey to her. She just laughed and walked away with it. 

[ampleappleamble]

Okay, it's looking like the danger has finally passed, so maybe now I can finally start talking about it.

I was born on a Wednesday.

On Thursday, October 13, 2022, my son was born via emergency C-section. He was immediately taken to the NICU, and he stayed there for the next three weeks being treated for pulmonary hypertension. He was on CPAP at first, but his condition quickly got worse. I only got to hold him once before they had to intubate him. My husband didn't get to hold him at all. For a week or so we couldn't even touch him due to fear that overstimulation might rile him up and drive up his oxygen needs. He was fed my pumped breast milk through an NG tube. My husband and I visited him every day, watching him improve slowly but surely, eventually being put back on CPAP, then on high flow oxygen delivered via nasal cannula, and finally, low flow oxygen. We were allowed to hold him, feed him, change him. He was getting better. It was looking like he was going to be sent home soon.

Then, on October 28, his blood pressure reading was alarmingly low in his left leg compared to his right. The doctors suspected a blood clot and performed an ultrasound, but it was inconclusive. So the suggestion was made to airlift him to another, larger city so he could be examined by a hematologist and pulmonologist. My husband and I agreed.

It was the hardest thing we'd ever, ever had to endure, watching that day as the helicopter flew off into the distance, taking our sick, helpless infant son away from us.

Wednesday's child is full of woe. Thursday's child has far to go.

We'd had the option for one of us (due to weight restrictions) to accompany him on the helicopter, but neither of us was really in any condition to be alone at the time, especially in an unfamiliar city. So we stayed home, waiting until the next day for my husband's mom to arrive in our town– an arrangement that had been set up months ago, luckily coinciding with this unfortunate event (we have no idea who'd have watched our cats otherwise). The day after that, we drove two hours to the city our son had been taken to, staying in a Ronald McDonald Charity House nearby the hospital, and we visited him in their NICU. We were traumatized, terrified, and very, very tired, but everything we were told there was promising– the blood clot they had suspected was nowhere to be seen, so it had either broken up and the problem had resolved itself, or it was never there at all and the blood pressure discrepancy was due to temporarily narrowed arteries, a fairly common side effect of the umbilical IV he'd had for a while in our NICU. So finally, it was decided that we would room in with him at the hospital the next night– Happy Halloween!– and take him home with us the next day. He would be going home on oxygen, but he would be going home.

Someone came from the oxygen supply company to train us on how to use our son's new oxygen tanks and pulse oximeter and arrange for oxygen to be delivered to our home. The nurses took us to our room, hooked our son up to his pulse oximeter and to the oxygen nozzle on the wall, and left us to it.

It was the worst night we have ever suffered through in our lives.

There were, of course, the usual new parent woes– the steep learning curve, waking up every three hours around the clock to feed and change him, a lactation consultant who was very helpful but still kinda made me feel like I'd been fucking up somehow this whole time– but the absolute worst was the pulse oximeter. As per his doctor's orders, it was set by the company that had provided it to alarm loudly when my son's oxygen saturation level dipped below 90%, in order to make sure he was getting the oxygen he needed to thrive. Ideally, the alarm would only go off if, say, his cannula were to slip out of his nose, or an oxygen tube should get disconnected.

It went off constantly. It felt like every 20 seconds, although it reality it was probably only every five minutes or so. It would sound even more frequently when he sneezed or farted, or when he got fussy. But he was almost always fussy– and somewhat peaked, we noticed. It was maddening. We got no sleep, no peace, and we were terrified and frustrated. Were we doing something wrong? Was there something wrong with him? Was the pulse oximeter faulty, or the sensor? The night nurses attending us assured us that this was normal, more or less– some babies fussed more often at night and it was natural for O2 sat to dip when one was exerting oneself the way he was. But we both couldn't help but feel that this was different, this was wrong, it shouldn't be going off this often. Finally, shifts changed and our new nurse agreed with us: this was not normal. She spoke to the doctor who also agreed, and it was decided that our son would have to go back on high flow oxygen. Which meant he'd have to go back to the NICU, and he couldn't come home yet after all.

This shattered us. Because our city's NICU was a level 3 NICU and this city's was a level 4, and moving backwards or even laterally between NICU levels is not generally done, this meant that not only was our son's condition worsening again when he had been improving, but also that we would have to stay in this horrible city indefinitely until he got better, or... you know. It felt almost like a personal failure– he'd been doing so well, and then we showed up. We'd been so full of hope that our son could finally come home, home with us where he belonged, only to now have to return to Ronald Fucking McDonald House and languish in despair for who knows how much longer. We stood above his bassinet as they hooked him up to a portable oxygen tank, weeping and clinging to each other, following the nurses as they wheeled him back into the NICU.

And then we noticed that his oxygen saturation was at 100% again.

This was confusing for a number of reasons. We'd spent the whole night under the impression that his O2 readings being so low so often was "normal," or at the very least the result of a faulty pulse oximeter or sensor. Why would it be that when hooked up to a different oxygen source than the one he had been hooked up to all night, his oxygen sat suddenly corrected itself? Our new nurse had her suspicions, and asked a nurse tech to check the oxygen source in our room, the port in the wall our son had been connected to.

Turns out it wasn't working. Our son had been on room air all night.

We'd gone through that miserable ordeal of a night for no good god damn reason. We were too exhausted to even complain about it.

The tech fixed the wall oxygen while the nurse informed the doctor, and it was decided that since there was no need to put him on high flow oxygen again after all, we could try rooming in again, this time with him on working fucking low flow oxygen. We did, and it went much more smoothly. And so the next day– November 2nd, his original due date– after yet another agonizingly long wait, we were finally discharged from the hospital and we drove two hours home with our little baby boy.

And he's here with us now! He's still on home oxygen, still quite small for his age, but he's growing more and more every day just as surely as our love for him grows, and he has lots of fun doctor appointments to look forward to to make sure he's healthy. All the heartache, all the pain and misery, it was all worth it to bring him home.

And that's our birth story.

Son boy allowed!

🍼💖👶

[jenosdaemi]

memories | alternate ending

AN: This is the alternate ending of Memories. Please read the first part of the fic here in order to understand whatever’s happening in this version. The story linked above is still the original ending, this is just as per request of my audiences that I hurt in the original plot IM SORRY OK Btw this is definitely not proofread, excuse any grammar and spelling errors. Please enjoy this ya softies.

wc: 2.7k

Jaehyun is at the NICU. Sitting in front of an incubator. His mind is everywhere, almost losing his sanity.

He hates how he’s thinking of the worst-case scenario. He hates that he feels like he wasn't given a chance to process what’s happening. He was told a lot of information about his son and wife, but all he understands is both of your lives are in danger. This overwhelming amount of responsibility and stress is weighing over him.

What happened? Everything was okay yesterday. You even ordered a bassinet online and now he’s expected to prepare himself for losing the son he's always prayed for and the woman who holds his other half. He couldn't imagine how his life would turn out, let alone actually live that life.

“I need you to hang tight. Fight for us, fight for your mom. She’ll want to see you when she wakes up.” He sobbed as he carefully rubbed his son’s tiny hands.

A soft tap on his shoulder made him lookup. A doctor and three more doctors are standing in front of him. “Is there any news? Is it about my son? How’s my wife?”

The doctor gave him a sad smile, “First of all Mr. Jung, we would like to ask the name you’d like to give your son.”

Jaehyun remembered how you immediately agreed with him to name your son Yoon Oh, the memory comforted him somehow.

“Yoon Oh. Jung Yoon Oh. My wife and I agreed about it beforehand.” Jaehyun shared.

The doctor nodded and wrote it down in his notes. “It’s a beautiful name. Now, about Yoon Oh’s situation.” Jaehyun felt his heart pinched with worry. “As we expected, his bilirubin level in his blood is so high that we could almost immediately diagnose him with jaundice in one look. We also found out that his blood is incompatible with his mother’s blood group. This problem requires blood transfusion from someone Yoon Oh’s compatible with.”

“I will donate my blood. Take as much as you need, he won’t be needing a lot right? I mean he’s just a baby.” Jaehyun rambled while lifting his sleeves up, showing his arms as if they could take his blood right away.

“We’d have to check first if you are compatible with your son. About the Jaundice, we’d have to do more tests to know if we’d have to do medication through IV or phototherapy.”

“IV? You’re going to stick needles in him? But he’s just a baby.” He repeated.

The doctor was about to say something when the monitor started making a beeping noise.

“He’s seizing.” The doctor mumbled to himself and quickly assessed the situation. “Vfib. Okay, I need another hand to set up an Ambu bag.” They pushed Jaehyun to the side. He watched them put their two fingers on top of his baby’s chest and do compressions.

Jaehyun clasped both of his hands together tightly, his fingers now white. He’s so worried, he feels sick, like he’s going to throw out.

Half an hour later the beeping noise didn't stop beeping, but the doctor and nurses eventually stopped moving. One of the nurses turned off the monitor, shutting off the flatline tone. The doctor glanced at his watch, “Time of death. 4:28”

“No.” Jaehyun mumbled to himself, eyes are bloodshot. “He’s not dead. My son’s not dead.”

“I'm so sorry for your loss.” He sincerely apologized. He explained a lot more medical issues but he stopped listening. No matter how much they explain things to him, it will not bring back the life of his son.

“Protect your mom, son. Help your mom get through this. She loves you more than anything. Thank you for making us happy and hopeful, even just for a short time.” He whispered to the glass incubator.

His head remained on the incubator, whispering comforting words to his lifeless baby. Jaehyun desperately fulfilled his duties as a father in the last moments of Yoon Oh’s life.

“Mr. Jung?”

Jaehyun couldn’t remember how many times his heart stopped beating whenever someone from the hospital called his name.

“Yes?” He whispered, eyes are on his baby.

“About your wife.” The nurse started. Jaehyun snapped his head up and jolted up from his seat.

“What about her?” He could hear his loud heartbeat. Every millisecond without an answer is breaking his heart inch by inch.

“Her aneurysm was safely removed and is now in the recovery room. She should be safe from harm now, but we would still like to check up on her every hour.”

A sense of relief spread through his chest. His knees weakened, making him sit back down on the chair. “Oh, thank God.” His voice cracked and buried his face in both of his hands. “When is she going to wake up?” Tears are pooling around his eyes.

“She should wake up within a couple of hours. When that happens, we would like for you to call someone to check on her.”

“See your wife Sir Jung. We’ll take care of your son.” Yoon Oh’s doctor told him, giving him a sympathetic smile. He nodded and thanked them.

“Thank you, son.” Jaehyun whispered one last time and ran up to your room.

~

It has been a month since you lost your son. Jaehyun was hurt but he could only imagine how much more painful it is for you. The time you get to hold your baby, he’s already cold and lifeless. No matter how much you cried and begged, no one could turn back time. The fact that you have never seen your son alive is what hurts you the most. There are times that you would just cry out of nowhere and would not stop crying for an hour. Jaehyun felt so helpless, your cries are like needles piercing his heart. He’s in pain too, but someone needed to be the stronger one between the two of you. And he chose to be the one giving strength.

“I was so close to becoming a mother.” You cried.

Jaehyun tightened his hug on you. “What are you talking about? You are still and forever going to be Yoon Oh’s mom.”

“A mother without a child! Is that what you’re calling me?! You don’t understand what I’m feeling Jaehyun!” You pushed him away.

Jaehyun is starting to tear up, “I understand every tear you shed Y/n. I lost a son too. He died right in front of my eyes! I saw him struggle, I saw him in pain! I am hurting too Y/n. I know it’s hard, but you have to help me so we can move on together.” He hugged you again and this time he held your head close to his chest and his arm was around your back.

“What did we do wrong, Jaehyun? Don’t we deserve to have a child? Am I a bad mother? Didn’t I take care of him enough?”

His heart broke again. “No, love. You’re not a bad mother and we took really good care of him while he’s in your tummy.”

“Then why? Why is this happening to us?” You cried harder, unable to comprehend the tragedy that happened to your lives.

What is he going to say? He shares the same questions. He’d rather be told that both of you are never going to be parents of your own child than being given a chance to start a family just to take it back.

You suffered from postpartum depression. Jaehyun went with you to each counselling you went to. You are slowly getting better but there are still times like that you break down, but Jaehyun helped you to cope with it and you do the same for him.

It’s been half a year. You and Jaehyun gave up trying to have a baby and you will not deny how much lighter you’re feeling now. Although part of you still hopes, at least now you gladly accepted your faith and closed that chapter in your life.

There are times that Jaehyun would go to the baby room that both of you decorated and would smile sadly to himself. He has his own regrets too, baggage that he carries around without letting you know. But like you, he stopped hoping and tried looking at the brighter side: That he still has you, that spending the rest of your lives with just the two of you is not so bad.

“I hope your recovery will continue. Both of you have been so strong and all you need to do is to stay strong.” Your therapist told you and Jaehyun as she walked the two of you out of her clinic.

“Thank you so much. You have been a great help to me and my wife for the past year.” Jaehyun said, shaking her hand.

While your husband and your therapist were talking, someone caught your eye. There’s a little boy- no more than two years old- in the middle of the hallway, crying. Your instinct kicked in and you immediately walked up to him and softly talked to him.

“Hey, don’t cry. It’s alright. Do you know where your mommy is? Are you lost?”

He stopped crying for a second and looked at you before shaking his head.

“Hey babe, you found yourself a new friend?” Jaehyun gently put his hand on your back and gave the little boy a smile.

You stepped closer to your husband and whispered, “I think he’s lost. Let’s just bring him to the nurse’s station-” His small soft hand on yours stopped you from talking.

The gesture made your heart melt. You crouched in front of him to level yourself with him. “Let’s go to the people that can find your mommy, okay?” The boy nodded.

You stood up and extended your hand to him which he immediately took and looked up to Jaehyun as if waiting for him to give his hand too. Both of you exchanged a look and smiled sadly at each other before he took the little boy’s hand.

The three of you walked down the hallway to the nurse’s station. It was quiet but comforting. Jaehyun could feel your longing and he couldn’t help to feel the same.

Once you reached the nurse’s station, you immediately told someone the situation and was going to leave the little boy there when he hugged Jaehyun’s leg.

Your husband looked at you with begging eyes. It is obvious that he doesn’t want to leave him there. And when the nurses went to take him, he started crying again. You and Jaehyun looked into each other’s eyes. You nodded before speaking.

“Uhm. I think we’re just going to stay here until we find his mom. Will that be alright?” You asked them and they gladly let both of you hang out there while they made announcements about the missing boy.

The three of you played rock, paper, scissors and other games just to entertain yourselves while waiting. The boy is just laughing with you and your husband. Until someone called his name.

“Junghwan? I am worried sick!” A lady in office attire went up to the three of you.

“You must be his mother.” Jaehyun said, standing up to introduce himself. “I’m Jaehyun and this is my wife. She’s the one who found him crying in the middle of the hallway.”

“Oh thank you! I brought him here for a check-up, and I was just talking to his doctor when he walked out on me.”

The lady was going to take him but to everyone’s surprise, the boy clung to you while still holding Jaehyun’s hand.

“Mama.” The boy said, burying his face on the crook of your neck.

“Hunny, I’m not your mama. Your mama’s here, look.” You shifted your body to show Junghwan the lady.

“I am not his mother. I am his social worker. Junghwan is an orphan.” The lady said with a sad smile. “He’s just a year old when we got him in our care. We pulled him out of an abusive home and from his drug addict mom. His mom took him back just a couple of months ago but just died in an overdose last week. It appears that our Junghwan right here has separation anxiety and autism.” She rubbed the boy's head down to his back. “It’s hard to find families that will adopt children in our care and it’s twice harder if the children are ‘broken’”

You took a glance at your husband and you caught him wiping his eyes. He felt it too.

“What should we do to adopt him?” You asked nonchalantly as if you were just buying groceries.

Jaehyun snapped his head towards you with a surprised look but was wearing a tiny smile on his face. The social worker also looked so surprised but regained her composure almost immediately.

“Are you being serious?” The social worker asked, making Jaehyun and you laugh.

“I’m sorry I could have asked it in a better way, but I am serious. My husband and I have been married for almost 10 years and we have been trying to get pregnant in all of those years, but we never got blessed with it until last year. Unfortunately, there had been complications with my pregnancy and I lost our baby right after he was born.” Telling your story now doesn’t hurt so much like it used to. Jaehyun is nodding beside you, eyes are on Junghwan, watching him slowly drift to sleep.

The social worker smiled at you. “I am so sorry to hear what happened to your son. About the adoption, well there are a lot of things to start with. You’d have to get certified as a foster parent first, only then you can start and apply to be Jungwan’s foster family and take him home.” The lady took out something from her bag, “Here’s my calling card. Contact me and book an appointment so I can help the two of you in the process. But before you call me, talk about it yourselves. Plan this. Make sure within yourselves if you really want this.”

Jaehyun took the card and the social worker gently took Junghwan from your arms, before bidding each other goodbyes.

The drive back to your home is quiet but thick. Both of you wanted to talk about it, but both are also saving it for later. The moment you got home, Jaehyun went straight to the kitchen to get himself a drink and you were going to change your clothes when you walked past the baby room.

You haven’t been into that room for a year and something in you urges you to go in. You walked closer to the door and opened the knob. Your eyes wandered around the room. All the stuff remained untouched as if someone is still using it.

“Maybe there’s a reason why we never had the heart to give these away.” Jaehyun spoke behind you. Your lips turn to a smile, as you look at the name ‘Yoon Oh’ on the wall.

You turned around to face your husband and hugged him. You remember the feeling you felt earlier with Junghwan. Your heart just felt at peace, complete and healed. And you were certain that Jaehyun felt the same too.

“Junghwan. He is the reason.” You said and took the calling card from Jaehyun’s pocket and handed it to him.

Your husband smiled and took out his phone to dial the number.

“Hi. How are you? This is Jung Jaehyun and I’m with my wife. We are the couple you met at the hospital earlier. We would like to know more about Junghwan and how the process of adoption works over a cup of coffee perhaps?”

You looked into each other’s eyes as he talked on the phone. He placed a soft kiss on your forehead and put strands of your hair behind your ear. Jaehyun is over the moon and so are you. Both of you felt your heart piece by piece putting itself back together, everything feels like it’s going to its rightful places.

You’re going to be parents.

Thank you for reading!! And please do let me know which ending you liked better :’)

Memories | J. Jaehyun

[talkfastromance4]

Temporary--Luke&Lily series

a/n: so sorry it’s taken me a month to complete this. It’s a heavy topic with a lot of emotions and I was feeling what my characters were feeling. This is very detail oriented, some medical jargon (I did my best research and some of it was from watching Grey’s Anatomy which I know isn’t realistic but I tried)

warnings: NICU mentions throughout, premature birth, C-section, sadness, moments of grief and loneliness, some sexual content. **Please read very carefully, this is a sensitive topic**

word count: 9.7k

Masterlist

Luke&Lily Masterlist

Magical Memoriess&Misfortunes (<-- catch up here)

feedback is always welcome, I hope you enjoy it.

****

It’s like you’re in a horrible dream. You’re frozen in terror at the multiple bodies moving above you, their voices warped but all you feel is immense pain and fright. You search for Luke through your blurred and clouded vision. The lights are too bright. It hurts your eyes.

You think you hear your name through the thick cotton cloud that has somehow gotten in your ear. Why can’t you hear properly? Where’s Luke? How did you get on this moving bed?

Another white-hot-blazing pain slices through you. You think you scream. Hands are on you and then it goes black…

…When you wake up, you’re still in this horrible nightmare that won’t seem to end. Usually when the terrible things keep happening, you wake up in a cold sweat.

“…. lovie…”

Your head lolls to the side and you see Luke’s eyes peeking out above a blue mask and a blue cap. It still feels like you’re stuck in a cloud and you feel a tug below you. Before you can look down, Luke cups your cheek and shakes his head.

You don’t know what he means but tears start rolling down your cheeks and then you close your eyes again. Why can’t you wake up? You just want to wake up, get out of this night terror…

…Coming to again and you hear more voices and commotion. You hear the urgency. Their words meet your ears, but the meaning doesn’t register with your brain. What is happening? Luke still has a firm grip on your face, but you look beyond him and see a group of people in blue gathered around a small thing. Their hands work quickly. You wish your tears would make what’s happening clearer.

“He’s breathing! It’s very labored!”

“Intubate him. Page Dr. Chambers.”

“Move people!”

He? Who’s he?

You look to Luke and he’s smiling through his own tears, his forehead pressed to yours.

Just as you’re about to connect the very blurry dots, more pain ensues. This is the worst thing you’ve ever felt in your life. It’s all over your body and it’s in your chest, collapsing onto you.

More voices.

More urgency.

More terror.

More questions.

Then, you drift off once more, the pain ceasing with each gasped breath.

**

Soft, methodical beeps drift you awake. You’re not on that strange cloud anymore but your body feels heavy, weighted. You search your brain for where you are, the sheets are crisp and your feet are cold. Disney World swims by and you’re confused because you remember waking up after you fainted.

Was that real?

Or is this real?

Then it hits you, like the snap of a rubber band breaking all the distorted memories and voices and hands all come back. The pain. The tug. He…

You gasp and flash your eyes open. You’re met with a white ceiling and wires and tubes suspended above you. There’s commotion to your left then Luke’s face is in your vision. His eyes are red with dark circles underneath them; his hair is a disarray as if he’s been pulling his fingers through it repeatedly.

“Oh, thank God, Y/N I was so worried. They told me you’d be asleep for a while because you lost so much blood…so much blood…but you’re okay now. You’re awake. I’m right here, lovie, I’m right here,” he rushes out in a frantic whisper.

He touches your forehead carefully and he’s so warm. You’re still trying to string everything together but there’s so many gaps in time. You’re pinpointing things by the different types of pain you experienced.

“What…what happened?” you croak then try to swallow. But your mouth and throat are so dry it’s like trying to swallow sand. It hurts.

When will the pain stop?

Luke’s eyes soften, he continues to stroke your forehead and into your hair. He licks his chapped lips then shakes his head.

“I…”

“Did I lose the baby?” you whisper, voice sounding like broken glass. Tears well up in your eyes again.

“No, no, no…shhh, shhh,” he soothes wiping at your tears with his other hand.

“They don’t…” he takes a deep shuddering breath, “you had a C-section. He’s in the NICU being monitored, I only got a small glimpse of him before they took him away. He’s so small and I don’t know what’s happening, no one has come by and I’ve been worried you wouldn’t wake up.”

And then you’re comforting him by pulling his head to yours, he sobs into you and you pet his hair. Your voice is lost, you feel the sudden loss of your baby not in you anymore, your heart is very fragile and seeing Luke like this terrifies you.

But Luke also said ‘he’ and a small smile appears on your lips. You have a son.

“I’m so glad you’re awake, baby,” he whispers. You feel his hot tears soak through the gown on your shoulder.

“Can you call for a nurse?” you ask kissing his hair delicately. At least, you hope you do because your lips are also very chapped and dry. You need some damn water.

“What hurts?” his head snaps up and you see why his eyes are so red; from his tears.

You swallow and swipe at his own tears.

“We need damn information about our son, and I need some damn water,” your voice shakes with ferocity. Luke punches the call button repeatedly until a nurse runs in.

**

After hydrating yourself with water, Luke took your hand keeping his gaze on you as you demanded the nurse to get your doctor, or your son’s doctor, to come and give you information. You’re never normally one to yell at someone, but your memories have so many holes in them you need to know what’s happened.

The nurse tries to console you but you’re hell bent on finding out about your son. Your son you haven’t even seen yet.

“I will walk there if I have to,” you threaten through gritted teeth. The more frustrated you become the more prominent the throb and ache below your waist also becomes.

“I will go find your doctor right away, ma’am,” the nurse nods frantically and runs from the room. You glare in his wake.

Luke squeezes your hand; you look at him.

“I love you,” he says simply but you hear way more than that.

I’m scared, too. I don’t know what to do either. We’re in this together. I’m never letting go.

Shortly after, a doctor walks in the room, her expression timid and she’s scrolling on her iPad.

“Mrs. Hemmings, how are you feeling? Any pain we can help with? I’m Dr. Wilson and I administered the C-section.”

“I’m fine. Take me to my son and let me know what’s happening,” you demand.

“Mrs. Hemmings, with your son being born at only 25 weeks the next 24 hours is very critical. We are monitoring him as we speak, I have my best staff on his watch,” Dr. Wilson explains, her voice cool and collected.

“What happened?”

Dr. Wilson steps closer to your side of the bed, her round face and almond-shaped eyes show both kindness and fire in them. You’re still on the fence on how to feel about her because she didn’t tell Luke anything.

“Part of your placenta was twisted, and it caused you to go into early labor which also caused stress on your baby. Thankfully, you got here in time and we were able to get him out before it became worse. His breathing was labored and with him being so small and born extremely early, his organs haven’t fully developed yet.”

“Why are the next 24 hours critical?” Luke asks, his hold on your hand is like a death grip.

“Because he’s still so small, his lungs aren’t at the correct size they should be. Lack of oxygen can cause severe brain damage or heart failure. We have an ET, endotracheal tube in his mouth which is hooked to a ventilator to help him breathe. An IV is also administering the nutrition he needs, we’re monitoring his heart rate, blood pressure, oxygen levels, and he’s being kept in an incubator that helps simulate the inside of the womb.”

You take in all the information, your heart longing for your baby boy that you have no idea what he looks like.

“What’s the survival rate for a baby born at 25 weeks?” your voice cracks. Luke shifts closer to you, his other hand covering yours.

Dr. Wilson glances between you and Luke before answering solemnly, “Between 67 to 76% survival.”

Luke lets out a choked gasp and you shift your eyes to the ceiling to keep the burning tears from falling.

“I can promise you Mr. and Mrs. Hemmings, that we are doing everything in our power to make sure he makes it through the next 24 hours. He’s a strong little guy.”

“Is there any way we can see him?” Luke’s voice wavers and is thick with emotion.

“Infection is very prominent right now; any outside contact can make him head in a worse direction.”

“Please,” you beg in a whisper meeting Dr. Wilson’s eyes. You notice that they’re brown. “I need to see him. I don’t want him to be alone if he…if he…”

You bite your lip and shake your head; you’re too overcome with emotions to finish a sentence you don’t even want to think about.

“Mrs. Hemmings, I can’t risk your stitches tearing. You’ve lost a lot of blood; your blood pressure is extremely high due to the stress of early labor.”

“I don’t care! Please, let me see him. I need to see what my baby looks like,” you cry. Luke rubs at your shoulder affectionately saying your name. You can’t look at him now. If you do you’ll lose this fiery courage that’s inside you right now.

“I understand. I’ll see what I can do, but are you sure you aren’t in any pain?”

“My stomach hurts,” you whisper.

“I’ll have a nurse fix that for you. I will be right back,” Dr. Wilson smiles then leaves the room.

The male nurse you screamed at comes back in and makes quick work with your IV. You’re too distraught to look or even speak to Luke so you keep your eyes fixed on the white board on the opposite wall. The name of your nurse is Tom, and you look at each yellow face on the ‘rate your pain’ scale. You’re fixated on the number zero face, it’s the happiest looking one with a wide-open smile.

That scale is wrong. The pain and fear and worry you’re feeling doesn’t equate a ten. It’s too powerful, it weighs down on you but at the same time you feel nothing. The pain is too much that it’s also gone. Your pain is at a zero, a big circle of nothing and everything all at once.

**

You’re not sure how much time has passed before Dr. Wilson comes back.

“I cannot take you to see him, but I found a way where you can see him,” she smiles then hands you her iPad.

It’s heavy in your hand and you gasp upon the first look of your baby boy. He’s surrounded by blankets under a large light with tubes, wires, and circular patches attached to his tiny, tiny self. You see his small chest moving rapidly with his breaths and you see the tiniest hat on his head. Luke drapes himself next to you, his lips pressing onto your temple.

“There he is,” you whisper touching your finger to the screen. “He looks so helpless…”

“How is he?” Luke asks.

“His oxygen level is still very low, but he’s taking the nutrients very well.”

You’ve already got his features memorized, and yet you can’t stop looking at him. You wish you could touch him, let him know you’re there and that you love him.

“Can we keep this in here?” you ask.

“Of course. I’ll be back with more updates, but I need you to rest and heal yourself, Mrs. Hemmings. Is there any family we need to contact?”

“The girls!” you gasp and turn to Luke.

“Shit,” he exhales then checks the time on his watch. “Lily’s with Cory by now and Posy…shit! I’ll call Ashton and then call Cory…”

He continues to mumble to himself as he searches for his phone. You turn back to the screen, your heart longing for your little boy.

**

Hours have gone by, the room you’re in is darkened from the night sky peeking through the blinds. The iPad is still on your lap and you’ve heard every conversation Luke has had while he made phone calls. Daycare called Ashton when neither you nor Luke picked Posy up and both of your phones went unanswered.

According to Ashton, Luke sent out a text to the band group chat that said ‘at hospital. Emergency get the girls will call’ but he doesn’t even remember sending it. Everything happened so fast and yet it felt like it dragged.

Posy is at your home with Ashton and KayKay who said will stay with her for as long as you two need. Just when you think of Lily, Luke already asks if they’d be all right picking her up from Cory’s on Sunday and they said yes.

“Lily might want to stay with Cory,” you tell him after he hangs up with Ashton. He’s tapping away at his phone, probably texting Calum and Michael or his family. Or all of them. You’re not sure but now you have Lily and Posy on your mind.

“It’s too late to call him,” Luke mutters and falls into the chair beside your bed. He scoots closer and peers at the iPad screen.

“Where’s my phone? I’ll call him so he and Ella can discuss it,” you hold out your hand.

“Lovie, it’s almost ten thirty at night—”

“Give me my phone so I can call him, Luke,” you interrupt a little too harshly. “Please.”

He holds your gaze for a moment before reaching into his other pants pocket. He hands you your phone and you scroll to Cory’s name under your favorites. You stare at your baby boy as the phone rings.

“Hey, Y/N, what’s going on?” Cory asks and you feel your emotions rising to the surface at the sound of his voice.

You force them down.

“Um, me and Luke are at the hospital. Something…” you suck in a large breath but your voice still trembles. “Something went wrong and I had an emergency C-section and the baby is in the NICU. Posy is home with Ashton and KayKay and they said they’d pick up Lily tomorrow but I know she’d probably want to stay with you. And I…I know it’s a lot to ask of you, but Lily needs to know. She’s been seeing everything going on around her and I don’t want her to be scared.”

“Of course, they can both stay with us. I still have Lily’s toddler bed. How are you? Tell me what’s going on.”

You tell him everything. Luke holds your hand as you do, his thumb rubbing soothing circles over your knuckles and your wedding ring.

“The doctor said he’s all right for now but he has to get through the next 24 hours?” Cory clarifies gently.

“Yes.”

“First of all, congratulations on a little boy,” he says and you can hear his smile through the phone. “You’re doing fine and he is too and he’ll continue to get better because he’s a fighter.”

“How do you know that? He’s so small, Cory….”

“I know it because you’re a fighter, I’m sure you’re giving the nursing staff hell and highwater to get answers,” he chuckles.

“Maybe a little. I feel bad about it.”

“You’re scared and you’re worried and this all happened so fast. But Luke is with you and you’ve got all of us supporting and loving you. You should try and get some sleep and I’ll tell Lily everything in the morning. Do you want me to call you so she can talk to you?”

“Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks, Cory.”

“Tell Luke I say hi and that I’m here for you two, okay?”

“Okay.”

“I’ll talk to you tomorrow. Love you, Y/N.”

“Love you too,” you sigh then the call ends. You turn to Luke, the circles under his eyes seem to have darkened and you reach over to touch the shadows on his cheeks. “He said he’ll keep the girls and will call tomorrow so we can talk to Lily. He says hi.”

Luke nods slowly then laces his fingers with yours. He kisses the tips of your fingers, his eyes closing.

**

You and Luke were sent hourly updates on your son. He’s been in the same condition each time, you try to find positivity in that because he’s not getting worse, but he’s also not in the clear yet. When Cory called again with Lily on the phone, you and Luke tried to make your voices sound positive. She asked a lot of questions and wondered when she could come see her new brother.

“He’s a little sick right now, honey. We need him to get better so we can all be together, okay?” you told her and she was silent for a while.

“When are you and dada gonna come home?”

“Hopefully soon, my love,” Luke tells her.

“What about Piggy?”

“Uncle Cal has her at his house,” you make up then quickly look to Luke who’s already pulling out his phone to text Calum.

You’re being horrible parents, forgetting everything like this but all of it still doesn’t seem real. Probably because you haven’t actually seen or held your son in your own arms. Your stitches are healing nicely but your body still seems to think it’s pregnant and that stirs up even more conflicting emotions.

“Be a good girl for your daddy and Ella, okay my sweet?”

“Okay. Can you give my brother a kiss for me?”

“We will, Lily. We love you so much.”

You and Luke tried to occupy your time by watching tv but you’re only watching the bodies move across the screen. You nod on and off but always jerk awake in case you miss the doctor or nurse coming in. Luke comforts you each time, assuring you that there’s no change and points to the screen where you can see your son.

The circles under his eyes only seem to darken with each passing minute. He helps you walk to the bathroom and back into bed. You try telling him he can go home to shower and get more clothes but he refuses.

“I’m not leaving you or our son until I know he’s okay.”

One of your favorite movies is playing on the tv, it’s a black and white film about a couple who adopts a baby girl. It goes through their funny moments trying to figure it all out but it ends tragically with the little girl getting sick. You drifted off before it came to that part and then you were shaken awake by Luke.

Dr. Wilson enters the room with a big smile on her face. You and Luke take hold of each other’s hands, holding onto each other in desperation.

“He’s in the clear. His oxygen levels have elevated and he has a steady heartbeat. It’s still going to be a while until you’ll be able to take him home, he’s still at risk for a lot of infection and we want to make sure his organs continue to develop correctly,” Dr. Wilson explains.

“He’s okay?” you whisper.

“He is. He’s a little warrior.”

“When…when can we see him?” Luke asks.

“Let me check on your stitches first, and if they look all right I can take you down now, if you’d like.”

“Please, please,” you nod scrambling to move your blankets off you.

**

Luke is wheeling you down the brightly lit hallway in the NICU ward, you see other parents hovering around the incubator their baby is in. You and Luke had to be fitted into the light pink gowns with masks and gloves before you could see your son. You were more than okay wearing the odd things if it meant being able to finally see him.

Luke rolls you in between families until Dr. Wilson stops at the last station near the window. A nurse is standing by writing down something on a chart and then you’re right next to his incubator. First, all you can see is a mountain of swaddled blankets with tubes and wires sticking out from every direction. Then you see slight movement and you lean forward and come face to face with your baby.

Tears are rolling down your cheeks as you stare at him. He looks like he could just barely fit in your palms, you see the quick flutter of his heart through his thin chest that has wired tape. You press your hands to the reinforced plastic, the warmth from the light radiates through the gloves.

“Hi, my baby boy, I’m your mama,” you whisper and you’re aching to touch him. You see the two round openings for hands and you move your hands before looking to Dr. Wilson.

“You can touch him, let him know you’re here,” she encourages.

Very carefully, you insert your arm stretching your finger to his small body. You press against his cheek as lightly as you can, he’s warm and that makes you feel better.

“Hi sweetheart,” you continue to talk to him and you hear Luke sniff behind you. “You’re doing so well. Keep it up so you can get big and strong and we can take you home to your big sisters. Your daddy’s here, too.”

Dr. Wilson moves and Luke takes her place. He puts his arm through the opening and strokes his finger down your son’s arm. Your baby trembles a little then leans into your touches. You can’t help the wet smile from forming, he’s perfect. You rub at his forehead gently.

“We need to name him,” you say looking across globe of your son’s new home.

“I haven’t…do you have a name?”

“One popped in my head just now.”

“What is it?”

“Oliver,” you smile glancing down at him. “I was searching through names online and this one stuck out at me. It has a lot of meanings like peace, wisdom, health, and luck.”

“I think it’s perfect,” Luke smiles. “I know he’s only 24 hours old, but he seems very wise to me, don’t you think?”

“Wise and healthy.”

**

Tension has been high between you and Luke. You were at the hospital for a week and a few days more because you had contracted an infection at your incision site. It’s pretty common for an infection but that meant you couldn’t go visit Oliver. Once your infection was cleared you were discharged to go home.

You and Luke moved around each other like orbits just passing by. When you wake in the morning you move about the room like robots, barely looking at each other until you’re ready to go. Cory, Ashton, and the others stayed with Lily and Posy during the day while the both of you went to the hospital to visit Oliver. You missed Lily and Posy terribly and only saw them when they were fast asleep by the time you got home. 

You’d even forgotten about Posy’s birthday and it made you feel even worse than you already felt. Your hormones are abnormal and your body still feels like it’s pregnant even though you know you’re not. It’s a weird feeling, it’s a sad feeling because you can’t even hold your baby that is no longer inside your stomach. 

To your surprise, Ashton and KayKay had orchestrated Posy’s birthday for you and Luke. 

“We have to put on a happy face for Po,” Luke says softly on the morning of her birthday.

Your bodies are set to an automatic alarm because of the hospital visits. You’re staring at the ceiling then roll over to face Luke who is also facing the ceiling with his hands behind his head. You take in his profile, the sharp angle of his nose, his full beard and the smooth skin of his arms over lean muscles. It’s been so long since you’ve touched each other. 

Does he miss you too?

“I’m trying to,” you whisper and silently beg him to look at you. To kiss you. To hold you. To tell you that everything is going to be all right.

Instead, he sighs then rolls out of bed. You watch the muscles in his back pull and tighten when he puts on a t-shirt and heads into the bathroom. You flick your eyes back to the ceiling, swiping away the tears that fall anyway. You’re only allowing yourself those two tears because you know you won’t stop once you start. 

Luke can’t see you break. Lily and Posy can’t see you break. 

“Ash said he and KayKay will be here at ten to start decorating. I want to make the girls breakfast, hopefully make up for lost time,” Luke announces out of the bathroom. 

“Good idea,” you nod then will yourself out of bed. You force yourself to not touch your belly, but like every morning, you always do. It’s still a little swollen from the pregnancy and the incision, but you know it’s empty. 

Before you grab your satin robe, you glance at Luke who had his eyes fixed on your hands over your belly. He meets your eyes for a moment, looks like he’s about to say something, but he leaves the room. 

You’re tired of feeling broken and empty.

**

The girls were ecstatic waking up to you and Luke. Posy was situated on Luke’s hip as he made her favorite breakfast and Lily filled you in on what’s going on at school and with Roman. She talked until Ashton and KayKay arrived and your heart had sunk all the way to your stomach because of how much you’ve missed in Lily and Posy’s life the last few weeks. 

You helped where you could with the decorations and then you remembered Posy wanted a dinosaur cake but before you could panic, Cory and Ella arrived with the cake. 

You tried to keep on a brave face throughout the party. You helped Posy open her presents, you talked with your friends and family. You couldn’t help the way your eyes gravitated towards Ella who is about 35 weeks along now. 

It’s another reminder that you aren’t pregnant and that your baby is in critical condition. You shake it off because you have to. Your phone sends you updates on Oliver by the hour, and he’s remained stable for the whole day which is improvement. 

“Thank you so much for doing all of this,” you tell Ashton and KayKay as they’re leaving. Aside from Cory and Ella, they’re the last to leave.

“No problem at all,” Ashton smiles pulling you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head. “We’re more than happy to help. We’ll plan another one when our boy Oliver is home.”

“We’re all here for you, love you,” KayKay smiles and wraps you in her arms. 

“We love you, too.”

“Unca Ash bye-bye?” Posy asks next to you. She looks up at Ashton with big puppy eyes, her arms up. 

“Yeah, little one. We need to go to bed, just like you!” he lifts her in his arms and blows raspberry kisses on her cheek. “Did you have fun at your party?”

“Yeah!” she claps her hands. 

“Good! Now, you go to bed like mama says and we’ll see you tomorrow, okay?”

“Otay.”

“Love you.”

“Luh you,” she sings and hugs his neck while KayKay takes her hand and kisses her fingers. 

“Let’s go to bed, Pose,” you take her from Ashton then wave one last time as they head out the door. 

“I’ll be outside, babe. My feet are killing me,” Ella tells Cory then she moves to you with Lily’s hand in hers. “We’ll be here bright and early so you can go see how Oliver’s doing.”

“Thank you. I’m sorry we’re--”

“You have nothing to apologize for. It’s what families do. Try and get some sleep tonight,” Ella touches your arm, her face turns into a frown. “You look exhausted.”

“I’ll try.”

You know you won’t. 

She kisses Posy and gives Lily one more hug then waddles outside to the car. Cory and Luke are cleaning up last call cups and you take your girls to their rooms to do their bedtime routine. You try and keep Posy in your arms as long as you can, hugging her and loving on her. 

She doesn’t even make it halfway through her favorite book, Where the Wild Things Are, and then you take Lily into her room. 

“When can I see my brother?” she asks as you tuck her in. 

“I don’t know yet, sweetheart,” you reply sadly, “he needs to get better first. Dada and I talk about you and Posy all the time to him.”

“You do?” her eyes widen in amazement. “Can I bring him a present?”

“I think he’d like that very much.”

“Mama?” 

“Hm?” you tuck her snuffy and bunny next to her under the covers. 

“I missed you,” she says quietly.

Your heart jolts. You stop fixing up her toys and look down at Lily, your first baby, and she’s playing with the ear of her bunny. The pink bunny she’s had since she first met Luke.

“I miss you, too. I’m so sorry we haven’t been here with you and Posy. Dada and I are going to fix that, okay?” you ask and she nods. You lean down to give her a kiss and a hug, her arms tighten around your neck.

You don’t let go until she does. You shut off her light and close the door, with just a small crack left open. You’re going to talk to Luke, you’ve decided as you head back downstairs. You tried having just one of you go to the hospital while the other stayed home with the girls but neither one of you wanted to be away if Oliver’s health took a turn. 

Just as you’re about to enter the kitchen, you hear your name between Luke and Cory. 

“Y/N’s in bad shape,” Cory says.

“Yeah, I know.”

“This has happened before, where she shuts down and tries to fix it herself but she can’t.”

“I know that, too, considering she’s my wife.” Luke’s voice is clipped, each word sharp as a knife. You’re shocked at it; he and Cory have always been on good terms with each other. 

“Have you tried talking to her about it? Because the way you two were acting tonight was like you didn’t even want to be near each other. She doesn’t need that, not right now when--”

“Look, I know you and Y/N have a close bond. It’s something I’ve tried to understand but I can’t and there’s nothing I can do to change that. It doesn’t bother me as much as it did in the beginning, but I don’t need your advice on how to help my wife.”

What did he mean ‘in the beginning’?

“Yeah? You had no problem taking my help when you broke up with her those three months,” Cory’s voice now has more of an edge to it. 

“I’m surprised you helped in the first place. You think I didn’t notice how you looked at her? We’re handling this on our own.”

“You’re not handling anything! Neither of you are! Yeah, I care about Y/N, that won’t ever change and she’s hurting. Bad. If you won’t do something about it, then I will.”

“The hell you will. I appreciate all you’ve done for my family, but you’re crossing a line.”

“Stop.” 

You whisper the word as you stand in front of them but it catches their attention. Luke’s hands are balled into fists at his sides and Cory’s body is in a similar defense stance. They look to you.

“I am trying, okay? I’m trying to stay strong and hopeful for Oliver. I’m trying to keep on a brave face for Lily and Posy. I’m trying to decipher which feelings I should be feeling or which ones are still phantom pregnancy ones and I don’t even know if those are real. My body has already fallen apart, I don’t need my family to as well.”

“Y/N.”

“I feel horrible that I forgot Posy’s birthday. How could I forget that? My mind is constantly running and I’m so exhausted but I can’t sleep because I’m worrying. Please don’t fight, I can’t handle it.”

“Y/N... what can I do?” Cory asks almost pleadingly. 

Luke scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“I think you should go home. I know you mean well, Cory, but you don’t want to keep Ella waiting in the car.”

“I can--”

“Just go, Cory,” you say in a softer tone. You glance to Luke who is pointedly staring at a spot on the wall then look back to Cory. “Luke and I need to talk.”

Cory keeps staring at you as if checking that you really want him to leave. You nod. He sighs. 

“I’m sorry, you’re right,” he steps away from Luke then grabs your hand. “Call if you need anything.” He gives you a squeeze as you nod at his offer. 

The door closes with a soft snap and it’s just you and Luke now, all of your demons joined together. 

“What did you mean when you said, ‘it didn’t bother you like in the beginning’?” 

“I can’t talk about this now,” he shakes his head and shuffles towards the basement door where his music room is.

Good. It’s soundproof and if there will be yelling, it won’t wake the girls. You follow him downstairs.

“We are going to talk about this now. I feel like I’m walking on eggshells with you and I don’t know what to do! We don’t talk about Oliver, so let’s talk about you and Cory!” you follow him until he turns around quickly. His eyes ablaze.

“No, let’s talk about you and Cory. You’re only talking to him about Oliver. You called him right after everything happened.”

“Because he had Lily! You called everyone else!”

“None of them are in love with you!”

“WHAT?! That doesn’t even make sense!”

“When we started dating, I had a feeling Cory still loved you. I saw it in the way he looked at you and he’s been looking at you that same way now. You don’t talk to me about Oliver, you talk to him. How do you think that makes me feel? Oliver is our son.”

“I try to talk to you! But you always pull away! He doesn’t love me like you think he does, and the fact you’re bringing this up now, years later, is ridiculous.”

“Right,” he snorts, “it’s ridiculous that the ex of my wife who is the father of her child still loves you.”

“Yes!” you screech and fist your hands in the air in frustration. “Do you even hear yourself? He’s engaged to Ella. He’s having a baby with Ella!”

“Then why do you talk to him about Oliver and not me? Huh?” he advances towards you, towering over you. 

“Because I blame myself every day that this happened and you do, too. You can’t even look at me and I…” you choke on your words; Luke’s hardened expression softens as your words sink in. “I feel like I’m losing you.”

Then you’re gasping for air as the tears you’ve been bottling up come crashing down. Your weird emotions, your worry, your fear, everything you’ve been feeling finally falls out in the open. It crashes between you and Luke like a tidal wave. Your body feels weak and you almost collapse onto the small couch but Luke grabs hold of your waist, his other hand cupping your face.

“Hey, hey, hey, hey. Look at me, look at me,” he rushes out. “I don’t blame you; I could never blame you. This isn’t your fault; do you hear me?” his eyes have a half-crazed look in them and somehow that grounds you.

“W-why wo-won’t you l-l-look at m-me?” you sob coughing out the words. 

“Oh, baby,” he sighs then awkwardly shifts around until you fall on top of him on the couch. He holds you tight against him. You’re immediate to wrap yourself around him like a pretzel “It’s because I don’t know what to say. I wish I could make this all better, make Oliver healthy, take all your pain away. I can’t even imagine what you’re going through right now and it kills me to see you like this.”

“I’m a horrible mom,” you cry harshly into his chest. 

Luke pushes you off of him and he’s blurred through your tears. 

“Don’t you ever say that again. You give everything and a million times more in love to our children. I see how hard you’re trying to keep it together, and it kills me.”

“I’m s--”

Luke mashes his lips to yours and you close your eyes. It’s wet and salty, it tastes of heartache and regret and yet his kiss feels like home. 

“You have nothing to apologize for,” he mumbles. “Stop--” he kisses you again “--just stop--” he kisses you once more with his fingers tangling in your hair. 

You wanted to be closer to him, feel every part of him touch every part of you but you aren’t past the six weeks mark yet. 

“I love you,” you whisper.

“I love you, too. Let’s take a warm shower and talk things out.”

After a warm shower of kisses and roaming hands, you snuggled against Luke in your bed and tried to come up with a plan where you could be home and at the hospital equally. And you both decided that as soon as Dr. Wilson gives the okay, you’re going to bring the girls to meet him.

When you’ve talked and finalized plans, you gaze at Luke as his eyes start to close. You stroke the slope of his nose, itching to ask him about the fight he had with Cory earlier. You open your mouth to ask and then close it just as quickly. Luke’s eyes open up and he pulls you against him, his fingers tickle the skin of your back. 

“I know you want to ask, so ask.”

“Why do you think Cory is still in love with me?”

He sighs heavily.

“I don’t. I guess I went back to old thoughts and insecurities.”

“So, you thought he still was at one point?”

“I knew he was because he told me. When we weren’t together those three months, he came by and told me how you and Lily were doing. The way he looked at you...it’s how I look at you. And when he tried to help us tonight…” he closes his eyes and shakes his head in embarrassment. “I was stupid. I shouldn’t have said what I did.”

“I’m sorry you’ve been feeling this way for so long,” you caress his bearded cheek.

“I honestly don’t think about it anymore, it just sprung up in my mind tonight,” he sighs. “I appreciate everything Cory’s been doing. I’ll call him tomorrow and apologize.”

“You know how much I love you?” your fingers brush his damp curls from his forehead that you press your lips too. You breathe in his shampoo, his skin soft and his own fingers slip under your shirt to keep caressing your back.

“About as much as I love you.”

He kisses your chin as you kiss his cheek and eventually your lips find each other.

**

It’s been a month and Oliver is still in the hospital. He’s progressing well and getting stronger every day. Posy and Lily were able to come visit him with Michael and Calum in tow. Posy ran to Luke who he picked up and peppered kisses to her cheeks and Lily ran to you with a little gift bag in her hands.

“What’s this?” you ask her as Luke points Oliver out to Posy, Calum, and Michael.

“Unca Mikey said this will help Oliver feel better,” Lily pulls out a small green octopus.

“I read online that it helps them feel comforted if they can’t be held yet,” Michael explains and you give him a smile.

“Can we give it to him mama?” Lily asks setting the bag on the floor.

“I think that’s a great idea,” you kiss her cheek then stand. “Let’s head inside.”

When you’re all gathered around Oliver, Calum lifts Lily in his arms so she can see him from up above and you slip the little octopus inside the round hole. You press it under his arm delicately, his tiny, tiny fingers latch on to one of the tentacles.

“Baby!” Posy points.

“He likes it!” Lily exclaims and Calum grins at her.

“Of course, he does, it’s from you and Po,” Calum says.

“And me,” Michael grumbles stepping a little closer to the incubator. His eyes soften when he looks over his nephew and you can almost sense his sadness.

“Thank you for getting it for him,” you link your arm through his and rest your head against his shoulder. “It was very thoughtful.”

“How long do you think it will be until you can bring him home?” Michael asks watching his tiny chest flutter with each breath.

“Until he’s at a healthy weight and can be taken off the ventilator,” Luke answers.

“Is he going to sleep with me?” Lily asks.

You and Luke share a look. You hadn’t thought about that. Before all of this happened, you still had a lot of time before you got his nursery ready. There is the playroom you could transform into a nursery…

“No, he’ll have his own room, sweets. When he’s home he might cry a lot and wake you up at night.”

“That’s okay. I can help.”

“You’re the best big sister ever, you know that?” Calum looks to her and she smiles sheepishly.

“Would Crystal help us change the playroom into a nursery?” you ask Michael.

“Definitely.”

“I think we should tell them his middle name,” Luke smiles at you.

“What is it?” Calum asks.

“Well, we decided on Michael,” you grin at Michael whose eyes widen. “You jump started us trying for another baby and when we decided on it Oliver sneezed. So, he likes it and it fits him perfectly.”

“Oliver Michael…” Calum tests it out then nods. “Yeah, sounds good to me. If you guys have another one, Calum’s a pretty kick ass name.”

“That means a lot guys, thank you,” Michael shifts his arm so he can pull you in for a hug. He kisses the top of your head.

**

A few weeks later, Ella had her beautiful baby girl, Violetta. You wanted to give them some time alone before bringing the girls over to their house to meet her. Lily sat on the couch with Violetta resting on a pillow on her lap and Posy sat next to her, staring at Violetta with curious eyes. It was odd to see the size difference between her and Oliver.

“She’s beautiful,” you tell Ella. She just took a photo of the three girls together.

“Thank you. I can’t believe she’s finally here,” she sighs tiredly then glances to Luke and Cory who are talking outside. “Cory told me what happened after Posy’s birthday.”

“Oh,” you clear your throat awkwardly, “he did, did he?”

“I know you two have a special bond, you have a history and Lily…I’m sorry that things escalated like that. How’s Luke?”

“He’s okay now, we talked about it. Ella, I hope you know that I don’t love Cory how I love Luke.”

“Oh, I know! We’re all a big, blended family, sometimes things get messy but I’ve never had a big family before. I adore you and Luke. I’m not upset at all, I understand.”

“Good. We adore you, too,” you smile then gaze at Violetta. You see more of Ella in her than Cory but she also resembles Lily a little.

“Would you like to hold her?” Ella asks gently.

“I’d love to,” you smile then push her back in her seat. “Rest, I bet you’re still sore. Lily, I’m going to hold your new sister now, okay? Why don’t you and Posy go play for a little bit.”

You lift Violetta off of Lily’s lap and the two girls run into Lily’s room. Violetta rests comfortably in the crook of your arm, she sleeps peacefully as you sway from side to side.

“Hi, pretty girl,” you coo. “You are such a pretty little one, aren’t you? Yeah, you get that from your mommy.”

“How’s Oliver doing?”

“Better, they’re talking about taking him off the ventilator soon and see how he does. He’s gaining more weight, not as fast as they want but it’s something,” you smile.

“Good, I’m glad to hear that. And you and Luke?”

“We’re…coping. We’re still trying to find the balance between the hospital and home, but now that Lily’s out of school it’s much easier to come and go.”

“If you and Luke ever want to take a long weekend, the girls can stay here.”

“Oh, no, not with Violetta just being born! I don’t want you to feel overwhelmed—”

“I insist. It will give me practice if we have more kids,” Ella smiles.

“We’ll be outnumbered then,” you laugh. “The kid to adult ratio is even now.”

“You’re right,” Ella laughs. “They’re going to rule our world.”

“I don’t mind, they’re pretty awesome,” you shrug and gaze down at Violetta. You hope you’ll be able to hold Oliver like this soon.

**

Luke’s birthday is approaching and he’s told you repeatedly he doesn’t want a big party or anything this year. The only thing he wants is to hopefully bring Oliver home by the end of the month. You were finally able to hold him and have some skin-to-skin contact.

You sat in the rocking chair next to his incubator and the nurse placed him on your chest. His skin is warm and beneath the starchy hospital smell, he had that natural smell all babies have. You couldn’t help but cry after finally holding him after almost three months of just looking at him. His fingers flexed on your chest before you slipped your pinky between them. He held on tightly.

“Hi baby boy,” you whisper kissing the top of his little hat. “Remember me?”

“How does he feel?” Luke asks, his voice thick with emotion.

“He’s that piece I’ve been missing.”

You could sit there for hours just holding him but you know how badly Luke wanted to hold his son so you changed places. He unbuttoned his shirt and the nurse helped you place Oliver on his chest.

“He’s so small,” Luke smiles fondly. “Hi buddy, I’m your daddy. You’re doing so good getting all big and strong. Your mama and I can’t wait to take you home. We’re going to have a big party, but I promise I’ll make everyone keep it quiet.”

“It’s nice to see you holding him,” you sniff and he starts to rock.

“It was nice to see you hold him, too,” he smiles. “We’ll take him home soon. We’re almost there.”

**

On Luke’s birthday, you and the girls surprised him with breakfast in bed and a brand-new record collection he’s been talking about. Michael and Crystal offered to watch the girls while you visited Oliver. You promised you’d be back by dinner time and you secretly arranged Luke’s favorite food to be delivered.

The two of you sat with Oliver and talked about how far he’s come along. He’s at four pounds already and is now in an open crib rather than an incubator. His organs have developed how they should and he’s had no complications. Dr. Chambers wants him to stay until he’s five pounds just to be sure he’s still gaining weight like he should.

The nurse told you you could try and start breast feeding him soon.

With multiple kisses to Oliver, you left him for the night to continue Luke’s birthday at home. Michael told you the girls wanted to bake a cake and he sent you photos and videos of the whole experience. You couldn’t wait to surprise Luke with the meal.

When you got home you noticed Michael’s car was gone and the house was quiet. There was a big balloon on the kitchen table next to the delivery bag of Luke’s favorite restaurant and the cake the girls made along with a note.

“’Our birthday gift to you is two things: a night alone and a new room. Enjoy your birthday! Love Michael and Crystal,’” Luke reads off from a note. He turns to you with a lopsided smile.

“A new room? What does that mean?” you examine the note.

“It better not be some kinky sex room,” Luke mutters and you nudge him in the shoulder. “Let’s go explore.”

He takes you by the hand and you make your way upstairs to the bedrooms. The light of the playroom is on so you turn in there and gasp. It’s been transformed into Oliver’s room. There’s a beautiful white crib filled with small stuffed animals and a dinosaur blanket. His name is above his crib in block letters and there’s a bookshelf with some trinkets and books.

You page through them and see each one was given to you by your friends with a little message written inside for Oliver. You can’t wait to have Oliver in here, safe and warm.

“I have a feeling Michael is going to spoil Oliver.”

“Probably,” you giggle and turn to face him. He’s looking at the other shelf that holds some clothes and blankets.

His shoulders are broad in his simple black shirt, his curls have gotten curlier because he’s let his hair grow out along with his beard. Your stomach flips as a dirty thought of feeling his beard on the inside of your thighs enters your mind. How’d you get so lucky to have this strong, handsome, talented, kind man to be your husband?

“They’re spoiling us too, you know,” you step closer to him tickling your fingers up and down his arm. He looks down at you. “We have the whole house to ourselves birthday man. What do you want to do first?”

“I’d love to do you.”

You’re both careful as you get reacquainted with each other’s bodies. He removes your clothes carefully and you fall onto your bed, arms stretched out for him. You watch him with hungry eyes as he removes his own clothes then climbs over you. Before he can kiss you, you press your palms against his chest and stomach, feeling his heartbeat and warmth of his body.

“I’ll never get over you like this,” you sigh leaning up to kiss his collarbone.

“I’ll never get over you like this,” he repeats and pushes you back. He falls with you, pulling deep kisses from you before leaving a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your body. He makes sure to kiss at the scar from your C-section. “So beautiful. Every inch of you.”

“Have I told you how much I love your beard?” you ask scratching your nails through the soft hair. “It’s very sexy.”

“Yeah? I don’t look like a lumberjack?”

“You’d make a sexy lumberjack. I wouldn’t complain.”

Soft loving words are exchanged along with wandering hands as he works you up. When you finally connect, you sigh and squeeze your nails into his shoulders. His thrusts are shallow and controlled making sure not to hurt you but also wanting to make this reconnection last.

“Feels so good to be in you again,” he mumbles in your neck. You glide your hands down his back and to the globes of his ass, you give a squeeze and try to make him move faster. “Missed you.”

“Missed you, too,” you sigh turning your head and your tongues connect.

It’s gentle and intimate and your orgasm is slow building but when it washes over you, you’re left in a warmth that you’ve been craving. It’s a warmth only Luke can provide, it’s his love and your love coming together.

Afterwards, you heat up the food and eat it in bed along with the cake. Being cheeky, you swipe the frosting on your finger and drag it onto his stomach.

“Who’s gonna clean that up?”

“Mmm, me,” you straddle his thighs, the shirt of his you wear to bed rides up and you press your hands onto his waist. You lean down and lick the frosting up with your tongue, he sighs heavily beneath you as you lick some more.

When he’s finally clean, your fingers slip beneath the waistband of his boxers continuing your kisses to his half hard cock. You swipe your tongue over his shaft, circling it around his tip and he springs to life.

“Lovie…” he groans.

“Shh,” you hush glancing up at him. His chest is heaving as you take him in your mouth. He groans again, his fingers tangling in your hair but letting you move as you see fit.

You love pleasuring him this way and it’s been so long since you have. You bob up and down, your spit dribbling down his shaft. He moans with each pull of your mouth, his hips rising to meet your motions. You feel his thighs clench so you know he’s close.

“Y/N…baby…lovie,” he pulls you off him then drags you up to him. “Wanna make you come again.”

He pushes himself inside you and you let out a loud moan as you sink down onto him. You start to move but Luke grips the sides of your ass and fucks up into you. Your mouth falls open at the pace, his balls slap your ass and your toes start to curl.

You’re chanting ‘yes’ and his name, the words tumbling over one another and you’re coming again. With a small scream you feel Luke pull out as his release is expelled between you. You’re pulsating and his fingers twiddle with your clit so you’re still coming together.

When you’re both finished, your breathing is hard and you giggle when you open your eyes. His cheeks are a little pink and he has this glazed over expression on his face.

“I think we should go clean up, hm?” his fingers tickle your thigh and you tremble at his touch. You nod.

You used a washcloth to clean up leftover frosting and his orgasm. Luke kisses your neck and your shoulders before he moves to the large tub and turns the taps. When the tub is full of bubbles and the jets are on, he holds you in his arms. The records you bought playing softly in the background.

“This reminds me of when we first started dating,” you say playing with his fingers. “We couldn’t keep our hands off each other.”

“If I had my way I’d want to do this all the time with you,” he chuckles in your ear before nibbling on the lobe. “But we have other responsibilities.”

“We’ll be able to bring Oliver home soon, right?”

“Of course, we will. This is just temporary until he’s five pounds. You’re going to be able to breastfeed and he’ll gain that one pound so fast.” He kisses your temple next and you sit in silence for a while.

“Did you imagine any of this happening when you met me at the coffee shop?”

“No, but I wouldn’t want my life any other way. You’ve filled my life with so much adventure and love. I never pictured myself with three kids, but I couldn’t imagine my life without them, or you. Did you imagine our life like this?”

“No,” you smile against his arm and kiss it. “But it’s the best. I’m thankful Oliver has come along this far, and Posy is our rambunctious girl and Lily is starting to become her own person now. It’s all happening so fast but with you beside me…I don’t have enough words to describe it. You’re the love of my life.”

“And you’re the love of mine,” he collects you in his arms. “We’ll bring our boy home soon.”

**

On August first, you were told you could bring Oliver home. You couldn’t even believe it but when Oliver’s NICU team and Dr. Chambers and Dr. Wilson showed up with balloons and a farewell card you started to cry. You hugged and thanked them all from the bottom of your heart and promised to keep in touch.

Oliver would need frequent doctor visits until he was about three to check his prognosis but you were so happy to bring him home finally. Luke called everyone while you got Oliver settled in his carrier, you made sure to put his octopus next to him. You sat in back with him while Luke drove, you couldn’t stop looking at Oliver. He’s grown so much and he’s healthy and strong.

You notice all of the cars parked along the street and you’re welcomed with your family as you and Luke enter your home. There’s a banner above welcoming Oliver home finally. You appreciated them all keeping their distance and not overcrowding Oliver, but you were happy they were all there to welcome your sone home.

Lily and Posy couldn’t stop looking at him in his carrier while he slept and Posy kept bringing some toys to show him. Everyone stayed for another hour and then you had to feed Oliver. He squirmed and cried because you woke him but you were on a tight feeding schedule so he would stay on track. Lily and Posy watched curiously as you breastfed. Luke watched fondly and then he told the girls their lunch was ready.

All four of you stayed around Oliver until it was time for him to go to bed—then you’d be feeding him in a few hours. Posy and Lily snuggled with you and Luke on the couch as you all watched a movie, their giggles at the animations jokes filled your heart with joy. Luke reached over and took your hand so he could kiss it, mumbling an ‘I love you.’

You were finally a family of five, home and safe.

***

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[bitoffairydust]

Yesterday we came home from the hospital as a family of three.

Things haven’t been super smooth sailing, nor did I expect them to be, but our little one is doing well and I’m healing fine so that’s really all we could ask for.

Wednesday was a bit of a whirlwind. I was scheduled to go into the hospital for my induction at 5, so we spent the morning doing a bit of last minute clean up around the place. Then around 12, someone from L&D called and said if we were available to come in earlier, we could just show up whenever. We still had a few things to finish up so we had lunch, I took a shower while my wife did the dishes, then she took a shower and got the cats set up for a few days home alone before we called an Uber to head to the hospital.

We got there around 3:30-4 so not super early but they got us into the delivery rooms right away and someone came over to go over a few questions (medical stuff and what I was hoping for with the birth). I got hooked up to the contraction and fetal heartbeat monitors, they got my IV line in, and then we went over the induction options for me. Based on my last check up, I was about 1.5 cm dilated, so before anything else they had to get me to about 3 cm, which they offered to do with either the foley balloon or misoprostol. Then the plan was to start me on oxytocin to get contractions going. I requested the miso, cause I figured there would be enough things going in and out of my vagina for the evening without an additional thing thrown in there 😅

It actually took a little while for the induction to start because as it turns out, three people (myself included) showed up for their induction within 5 minutes of each other and I was the last so it was closer to 7 before the resident came to examine me. In doing so they found I had actually progressed to 3 cm on my own since my last appointment so they were able to just get me started up on oxytocin.

Contractions started up pretty much instantly but they were very manageable. I’d say just from the oxy progression, the worst contraction I got was maybe a 5 on the scale from 1 to 10. Then they ran through the dosage and did another exam to see where I was at. They didn’t give an exact number then but I think it was somewhere between 4 and 5 cm. Before starting me up on another dosage of oxytocin, they went ahead and tried to break my water as it hadn’t yet. They didn’t actually manage to fully get it, and honestly, at that point, them trying to get it to break was actually more painful than the contractions I’d experienced that far.

That changed pretty fast once they established they’d gotten enough of the membranes for the time being. I’m fuzzy on the timeline but I think it must have been close to 10 at that point, and the pain level climbed very quickly along with contraction intensity and frequency. I tried to bounce on a ball for a bit and the nurse showed my wife some pressure points to try and help with the pain but it did nothing. Around 10:30 I requested the epidural, which was unfortunate timing on my part as the anesthesiologist had just gone in to assist with a c-section. By the time she was out and got to my room it was about 11:30 and pain was an easy 10 on the scale with contractions maybe a minute and a half apart.

The epidural itself went in pretty smoothly but at first there wasn’t much to be said for relief. Since they mentioned it could take 15 minutes to really be felt I didn’t think much of it, and I did feel like things were getting a bit better as minutes passed. The last contraction I was asked about felt more back down to a 5 on the pain scale so the anesthesiologist left. Unfortunately, that 5 turned out to be a fluke because pain shot back up pretty quickly and I was soon at a 10 again, no matter the dosage boosts.

That part was quite honestly the worst of it all, having expected some sort of relief and finding it to be just as worse as before. To make it worse, baby was not handling those contractions well. His heart beat would drop with the start of each contraction, though it picked up before the end of them so though they wanted to keep an eye on it it wasn’t cause for intervention yet. The nurse monitored his heart rate with me laying flat on my back, on my right side, on my left side and then sitting straight up. The latter was the slightly better option for him, but definitely did nothing to help my pain management. She did get me back on my back to try and relieve me a bit since the difference to the effect on baby wasn’t huge but at that point contractions were relentless. I was dealing with back labor contractions, which were maybe a minute apart, and because they suspected the placenta had detached a bit when they tried to break my water, when a contraction would subside, the pain in my abdomen would become more prominent and almost to the same level. It made it feel like I was contracting non stop with no break for catching my breath or trying to recuperate.

Around 2 in the morning there were a few people in the room examining me and trying to figure out the best course of action. A C-section being needed started being mentioned if things didn’t improve, but I was at a little more than 9 cm by then. The OB and the anesthesiologist had a talk outside the room and decided to re-do my epidural as it had clearly failed (they did an ice test and it was clear I wasn’t frozen anywhere at all), and if I were to end up needing a c-section, I’d have to have it redone anyway.

She took two tries to get everything situated in my back. That second try did the trick. I don’t think I can even describe the amount of relief when my foot started feeling warm and then going numb, and within maybe 5 minutes it was amazingly painless. They did another ice test and this time I felt no cold at all anywhere, and when the nurse pointed out I’d just had a contraction it cemented it because I’d not felt it at all. The only thing I could feel at that point was a bit of abdominal pressure every now and then. And I will say, I did have a great team with me. Everyone was very empathetic and trying their best to get me to feel some form of relief before the second epidural. And they seemed almost as relieved as me when that last one finally worked - especially because after that baby’s heart stabilized.

By the time the epidural was done, even though they figured I had likely progressed to 10 cm, they elected to let me rest for a bit, and give baby a chance to keep making his way down, so I got to catch a breather until about 4 am. Then they told me it was time to try and start pushing, with the nurse guiding me since I still couldn’t feel any sort of contraction. I pushed through maybe four or five contractions without huge progress, and the OB came in to assess and established baby needed a bit of help coming out. They set up the forceps and had me push through another couple of contractions, but they were pretty week and hard to catch even for the nurse by then, and baby’s heart rate was starting to struggle again. So they got on the phone to get a room prepped for c-section, and the doctor told me I would get to push through one last contraction, but if nothing happened we’d have to go into surgery.

The nurse tried to wait for a good one (she had already reupped the oxytocin drip at that point) and by some miracle, the next push for his head half out and with the second one it was completely out. The rest of his body followed quickly and before I had even caught up with it all, I had his tiny little body on me.

Even though they’d brought someone in from the NICU just to be safe, he ended up being perfectly okay. I needed a bit more attention because I had more bleeding than normal, and I had to have 4 stitches and another IV line put in to help with the blood loss. Then we stayed in the delivery room until about 6 at which point we were brought over to our postpartum room.

Since then nursing has undoubtedly been the biggest challenge. He did have a tongue tie, but he struggled from the get go. He would latch well but lose it and then get frustrated and cry. He also is a very lazy eater - I’d spend easily 30-45 minutes per side trying to get him to stay aware long enough to take in maybe 15 minutes of proper feeding, but he’d start smacking his lips practically the moment he was done, and he’d wake up hungry again within the hour.

Unfortunately there was no lactation consultant on staff as she was on vacation this week. People commented time and time again about how I had no supply issue, and his latch (when he was latched) was good, but it didn’t seem to help. I also felt I kept getting conflicting information as one moment he’d have crystals in his urine to indicate potential dehydration, and the next they’d be telling me he had barely loss any of his birth weight and was perfectly on target for that.

We did decide to get his tongue tie cut as it seemed to really be frustrating him at feeds and make it harder for my breast to properly fit into his mouth. The feed that followed the cut was easily the best we’ve had to date, but unfortunately it went downhill from there. After we got home and I tried to feed him last night, he did fine on the right side but then only lasted 10 minutes on the left and then lost it, started to scream and wouldn’t latch again. I haven’t been able to make him latch on the left side since, and I only managed to get him latched to the right a couple more times before we ran in the same problem, so we had to go ahead and start giving him bottles. I’ll be trying to work through it with a lactation consultant as soon as possible, and I’ve now started pumping, but in the meantime, him being properly fed was the biggest thing.

He does also have a small fracture on his right clavicle, likely from the forceps, but the pediatrician said that will resolve on its own within the week. In the meantime we just have to be very cautious how we move his right arm, and she prescribed him Tylenol if need be.

In the meantime we’re just trying to settle down to our new sleep deprived routine. But then looking into all the sweet, funny faces he makes both when asleep and awake makes it feel pretty worth it.

- Marie

[evelynsgotellis-blog]

13 DAYS IN THE NICU

Four days I was hospitalized, recovering from my C-section, Franc, Evelyn's father, was right by my side. Once I was released we were put up in the Ronald McDonald house, as we were to far away to be able to travel home and back each day and we couldn't just leave our baby girl. We wanted to stay as close as possible to my baby who required a continuous positive airway pressure AKA CPAP machine after birth to ensure she was taking in enough oxygen. She began on level 4 and needed to get down to zero (meaning she can completely breath on her own without any help) before we could take her home. She started doing out really well. Within only 3 days she was down to level 3, but on the fourth day when we woke up and went in to check on her, the nurses informed us, she was back up to level 5, because she was struggling a little to breathe on her own, and they would need to go much slower now and really take their time to ensure her oxygen levels maintained in check. I remember crying, completely scared for my child. I remember Franc and the nurse doing their best to comfort me. But when you are the parent to a child with a chronic illness, you cant help but fear the worst case scenarios, and any set back makes those fears all the more real. Apart from the CPAP machine she was also hooked up to an IV, pulse oximeter (measures amount of oxygen in baby's blood), heart monitor (displays a baby's heart rate and breathing patterns on a screen), Transcutaneous oxygen/carbon dioxide monitor, (measures the amount of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the baby's skin), as well as a feeding tube placed through her nose and down her throat. I dont recall the exact day, it was probably somewhere in the middle of the 13 days we spent their, but eventually they got her CPAP machine back down to a 3. It was time to start slowly giving her milk, so she could eventually come off of what they call hyperalimentation, which is just an artificial supply of nutrients they give to babies who aren't ready to feed yet. That to was going really great, in just a few days she was almost up to a full feeding, there was even talk of possibly letting her try to breastfeed soon. That was until she threw up and they found vile in it. This was a major concern. Immediately they stopped feeding her milk and put her back on the artificial. The biggest concern was that there was a good chance this was being caused by a blockage in the large intestine. If this was the case, she was going to need surgery to basically cut out the part that's blocked off. And so I cried some more. It seemed every time things were looking good, we suddenly took five steps back.

#NICU #nicubaby #love #baby #girl #dwarfism #ellisvancreveld #tinybutmighty #mother

[averagelizajane-blog]

Counting Blessings

It’s nearly 11pm on Thursday and my eyes hurt I’m so sleepy.  I’m angry because I’ve been up since 5am and going NONSTOP; I passed exhausted on Monday and hit zombie-teacher-mom-tired by Tuesday night. As usual, my two kids were in bed by 9pm, but I’m forced to stay awake until 11pm, again, tonight, as I do every night, night after night, every.single.day.  

I can’t remember the last time I wrote a blog.  Life took over.  I’ve been REALLY wanting to sit down and share an update, but between starting a newish job (8th Grade English) and juggling the typical everyday grind – I haven’t been able to make it happen.  

So why now?  What made me actually sit down in front of my computer … It’s NOVEMEBER!  My favorite month due to Thanksgiving & Prematurity Awareness Month!  AAAANNNNDDDD, even though I am struggling A LOT with my sleep, my weight, my organization, my parenting skills, and my overall wellness, I have much to celebrate.  I was reminded of the extent of my blessings tonight when I pushed Anne-Marie’s two nighttime medications into her feeding tube, and I use the term “pushed” literally! There was a time when we couldn’t actually push the syringe down with any kind of tiny force.  We would need to gently and SLOWLY move the top of the syringe down very carefully because the smallest amount of anything into her stomach would cause her to vomit. Now, I give her medicines as quick as possible so I can get to bed!  So, as I sit here and think of ALL we have overcome in just three and half short years, I cannot help but get a little emotional.  

 A RECAP

My second daughter Anne-Marie is a miracle.  

I used to hesitate using the term miracle (I actually didn’t like it) because I never felt like I “deserved” one.  As ridiculous as it sounds, I felt that God couldn’t possibly perform a miracle in my life.  I was raised going to church, but that didn’t equate to being spiritually mature or confident in my knowledge of God.  I knew the basics, but that’s it.  Therefore, I knew God doesn’t only work miracles for “good” people, he sees everyone as worthy … but I couldn’t help but feel inadequate.  It is extremely difficult to put into words, but the best way I can describe it is I felt God had way more important prayers to answer than mine.  Almost 4 years ago when I had a life-threatening pregnancy complication (preeclampsia with HELLP syndrome) and had a premature baby, I very much felt more “lucky” than the recipient of a miracle.  

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

I did have faith and I did wholeheartedly pray for a miracle, but I was unable to TRULY believe 100% that my prayers would be answered; I was scared my baby would die. Anne-Marie was born at 25 weeks gestation.  She weighed 14.8 ounces.  She was 10 inches long.  In other words she was smaller than TINY – about the size of my iphone 8 plus with my case.  She had an Apgar score of 2 and it took a skilled neonatal team 5 tries at intubation, but she survived the initial birth.  In addition to her traumatic yet miraculous start, there are several other details from “early on” that stand out as being heaven sent…

**My best friend Maggie saved my life.  Besides being intellectually gifted, she’s intuitive.  She knew what was going on with me and my pregnancy.  When my symptoms and bloodwork became alarming, she made sure I got the care I needed.  I am so naïve, I was going to go to my local hospital.  (Not knocking them at all – but I needed a hospital with a level IV NICU) Maggie insisted I go to Duke.  She’s knowledgeable in her field of women’s health and knew I needed to be monitored at a hospital equipped for a micropreemie delivery.  She sat in on a meeting while I was being admitted and helped put all the pieces of the puzzle together.  Plus, she was the calming presence that can only come from a trusting friend, which was exactly what Bradley and I needed during such a scary time.  Without a shadow of a doubt, Maggie was put into my life so many years ago for several reasons, and I choose to believe one of those reasons was to save my life at age 31.

**Prior to delivery, when I was being monitored like crazy for seizures, I vividly remember laying in my hospital room wide awake (very alert to be on Magnesium Sulfate) praying to God that they wouldn’t deliver Anne-Marie on my Leah’s birthday.  My worst nightmare was for Anne-Marie to not make it and then every year, I’d have a birthday (Leah) and the anniversary of a death on the same day.  Well, once again I am thanking God for unanswered prayers because as it turned out, Anne-Marie did need to be delivered on Leah’s birthday.  It’s actually a pretty cool blessing.  I take it as a pretty big sign from God that He is ultimately in control; I am forever reminded to trust him.  

**Anne-Marie spent nearly 7 months in the NICU.  She was very sick during part of that time.  There is one day in particular that is difficult to think about.  She was about 2 weeks old.  The “honeymoon” phase was over and her breathing wasn’t great. Her team wanted to change her breathing tube out to the next size up.  I don’t really know in medical terms what triggered this event, but I believe she just couldn’t handle the stress of being extubated then reintubated.  I walked into the room and the lights were up bright (unusual) and people were all around her isolette.  A respiratory therapist was bagging her, a was nurse were administering medicine, doctors were having a discussion, the social worker was trying to make me feel comfortable, and a separate nurse was logging everything they were doing into a laptop on a cart (very unusual).  Anne-Marie was unstable.  The medical team was anticipating the worst.  A hospital chaplain came to ask me if I wanted Anne-Marie to be baptized.  That was when everything hit me.  I asked one of her doctors if I should call my husband.  He responded that my daughter was very sick and she could die at any moment. My memories from the rest of the day are a little blurry, but I remember Bradley driving straight from work and being there in his dirty, greasy work uniform. We spent the night (without sleep) in a room off the side of the waiting room because Anne-Marie was in critical condition.  I remember texting everyone who I thought would legit get on their knees and say an honest prayer for Anne-Marie and asking them to PLEASE pray for Anne-Marie.  It is weird feeling, needing something SO SO MUCH, yet being so helpless.  In that moment, when I sincerely knew people were praying for Anne-Marie, me and Bradley, and our situation – a sense of peace came over me – one that can only come from God.

FASTFORWARD (to more miracles!):

It hasn’t always been easy, but Anne-Marie is now thriving.  This is the first time I can actually say that.  Before, when people would ask how Anne-Marie was, I would say, “Great!” only because that was the easiest thing to say.  Now, it is the truth.  Now, Anne-Marie tolerates all her tube feeds; no more vomiting.  She still requires a tube feed every 3 hours and it still takes an hour to complete so a lot of her time is still spent feeding – but at least she isn’t suffering anymore.  (Anne-Marie threw-up multiple times a day for the first couple of years of her life. This is not an exaggeration.  It was extremely sad to witness.) And sure, I have an occasional headache dealing with prescriptions/ insurance/ refills/ pump supplies – but overall it is not too bad, not anything like it used to be. Anne-Marie has made strides in all areas of her development:  She is eating more smooth purees by mouth, tolerating new sensory stimulation easier (loud noises, crowds, hand-washing, brushing teeth, etc.), and, most excitedly, she is TALKING!!  It’s been a LONG time coming, but another prayer has been answered.

This is the most recent picture I have of Anne-Marie.  She is at school celebrating Thanksgiving with her teacher and classmates.

Side-Note (necessary to FULLY grasp the magnitude of this answered prayer):

I am impatient, like really impatient, just ask my husband…  

Call it a mother’s instinct, call me pushy or crazy, I don’t care … but I knew it, I knew Anne-Marie wanted to talk.  I could see it in her eyes.  I read online about Augmentative and Alternative Communication, more specifically, Speech Generating Devices (SGDs), and strongly believed that it was going to be Anne-Marie’s pathway to oral speech.  I was optimistic but sadly, not many of Anne-Marie’s “key players” wanted to listen.  I’d continuously pitch the idea of getting a tablet to help Anne-Marie talk to anyone who would listen: my husband, her teachers, insurance people, her doctors, my friends at work, and even her SLPs, but unfortunately they were all reluctant. All of the non-medical/speech/ educational people would reply with the worst response ever, “She’ll talk, then you’ll want her to shut up!”  (I cringe --- it’s like telling a woman who is having trouble getting pregnant, ohh you just need to relax and it will happen.)  I never took it personally, because I know the individuals meant well, and they didn’t know it would hurt my feelings, but it did nonetheless. Responses like that are hurtful because what if she never talked, that happens you know.  And then when I asked all of the professionals who knew Anne-Marie about SGDs and AAC therapy, they were polite enough, but I never felt 100% heard.  I do not think they were opposed to Anne-Marie having an iPad necessarily, I just feel like their primary focus for Anne-Marie was somewhere else at the time. And to their credit, maybe it should have been.  However, I wanted her to have an iPad to help her talk and I wanted it immediately. She needed it.  When I’d talk to her, I could read her eyes… she had so much going on, so many thoughts, so much to say, but she couldn’t – she didn’t have the right tools…  laminating pictures and using PECS and Velcro just wasn’t cutting it (for Anne-Marie & no pun intended – lol).

So, Anne-Marie had a speech evaluation done at Duke on August 2, 2017.  Even though goals to trial AAC devices and begin AAC therapy were recommended at that evaluation, Anne-Marie did not have her first therapy appointment to late July 2018. For an entire year, I waited while feeling helpless.  The insurance people and the entire staff at Duke’s Speech and Audiology department know me by first name.  I called and appealed and emailed and cried and met face-to-face with a supervisor. I’d give up and quit fighting for what Anne-Marie needed.  I’d doubt myself, then try again.  Month after month.  My only mistake was not trusting God’s timing.  

Anne-Marie got her “talker” in June.  My parents bought it for her out of pocket because we (my mom and I) were determined we could watch YouTube videos and at least make a little progress.  Plus we wanted Anne-Marie to have it when school began in August.  We wanted the whole word to know just how smart she was!  As of the past couple of weeks, Anne-Marie does NOT need her talker! She only needs to have it for breakdowns of communication.  SHE IS TALKING!!  Not just saying sounds à she is actually talking! My daughter can tell me with her sweet voice, “I love you!”

I do not want my message to be misinterpreted – I do not believe AT ALL that the “talker” (Speak for Yourself App) alone was the sole reason for such a rapid progression of oral speech.  Anne-Marie has been in Early Childhood Special Education for the past 1.5 years. She gets speech therapy at school, in a clinic in town, and at Duke which are all HUGE factors! In addition, my mom is like an unofficial 1:1 teacher/OT/PT/SLP wizard who works magic with Anne-Marie.  My mom often scrolls Pinterest and TpT for activities.  She spends many quality hours with Anne-Marie each day. My mom has three drawers in my kitchen crammed full of Anne-Marie’s “Nana’s school” materials. I frequently come home to beans, water beads, pom-poms, etc. on my floor and my mom cutting out a new sorting activity that she has printed off for Anne-Marie.  My mom is a saint in every sense of the word.  She along with Anne-Marie entire village are major pieces to her miracle.

Sooo HAPPY THANKSGIVING to me!  

On this World Prematurity Day, I choose praise God Almighty from Him all blessings flow … and the blessings are bountiful. I choose to focus on what is GOOD as opposed to what is stressful.  Anne-Marie still requires a lot of specialized attention and takes a lot of out of us, BUT…

*I have a spouse who loves me unconditionally

*I have parents who love me and my kids and would do anything within reason for us

*I have an extended support system like no other

*I live in America where my special needs child receives medical assistance

*I have a job that fulfills me

*I have faith & comfort knowing God is with me in troubled waters

*I have an almost 4-year-old who is talking!

*I HAVE A MIRACLE!

[meganlephung-blog]

May 28, 2017

Today our sweet baby Madeline Kim An Phung was born silent.

But our story actually starts a day earlier. May 27, 2017 was a Saturday. My husband Long and I were going to Oklahoma City (OKC) to empty out our old apartment at The Maywood. We had moved to Tulsa, end of April, but didn’t move everything to the new apartment at The Mansions yet. That morning I felt a little crampy. I explained to Long that it feels like the type of cramps I get when I’m about to start my period. His reply was “Hmm, that’s weird...” and he had a concerned look on his face but since it didn’t seem to be an emergency or anything to freak out about, we continued on with our plans for the day. Once the car was all packed up and we were ready to head back to Tulsa, my cramps started to get stronger. The whole way home, they were starting to happen more often as well. Finally, once we arrived home, as soon as I got up to get out of the car, I felt something come out of me. Throughout the pregnancy I’ve had discharge but this was different... this felt like a lot, as if I just started my period. I told Long and ran upstairs to the bathroom. As soon as I pulled my pants down I saw blood. I was in shock for a minute (as Long is emptying the car and bringing things into the apartment I screamed out to let him know I was bleeding) “What do I do?!”, I asked him. He didn’t know. After pausing with what I think was his initial shock, he went back to unpacking the car. I called my new OB’s office. They were closed. (I didn’t know what to do because since moving to Tulsa I had not met my new OB, we still had a week before our first appointment with her.) I then called my older sister, filled her in on what was happening and asked what I should do, she advised me to call my old OB from OKC. They connected me with the OB on call, who told me that if I bled more I needed to go to Labor & Delivery and see what’s wrong. If my cramps became more severe I would also need to do the same. In the mean time I was advised to soak in a warm bath for 15 mins to help with the cramps. Then lay in bed and take it easy.

I began tracking the cramps on my phone with the time they occurred along with the severity of them on a scale of 1-10 (10 being the worst). The last log was at 2:13 AM. I couldn’t take the pain anymore, it wasn’t going away, it wasn’t getting any better, it remained a 7 on my pain scale and was preventing me from getting any sleep which was preventing Long from being able to sleep. So he finally said to just go to the hospital. As soon as we got there they asked me a bunch of questions, I explain everything I went through all day. Then they asked me to wait for a nurse. The nurse took me to triage and while there they explained that this was to see if anything is wrong to determine if I were to be sent home or admitted into Labor & Delivery. They then had an ultrasound machine to find the baby as they waited for the OB on call to arrive. The Resident OB asked the nurse to get her a newer machine that could detect thermo because the ultrasound machine they had was an old one she didn’t like. The Resident OB was sitting on the bed to my left and using the newer machine as the nurse was checking things on the computer behind the machine. Long was sitting in the corner of the room to my right, on his phone, which I later found out he was looking up things about the hospital (like how they have a Level 4 NICU, just incase our baby is born prematurely, we were currently at 27 weeks). The OB on call arrived he sat to my right on a couch next to the bed. After waiting a while in silence for the Resident to find the baby the OB on call said to give him the probe and he moved it around and instructed the Resident OB to turn the monitor towards me. I saw my little baby and was so happy, I hadn’t been able to see it for the past 8 weeks, since my last OB visit before we moved. The OB on call said “You see that? It’s your baby. *pause and then sigh* This is always the hardest part of my job.” No. Please... It sounds like you’re about to tell me something I don’t want to hear... No. This can’t be what’s happening... “Your baby has no heartbeat. I’m really sorry-” (at this point I was a little lost in my mind and didn’t hear the rest of what he said) Then I saw him getting up and as him, the Resident OB, and the nurse were leaving I heard  someone say “We will give you some space, please take all the time you need...” Then Long comes from the chair in the corner and falls onto me as he kneels next to the bed and we both sobbed in each others’ arms.

Is this really happening... Did he say that I just lost my baby... But it’s still inside me... When did this happen... Does this mean I’m not a mom anymore... Are they not going to do anything to save the baby... No. This can’t be right...

Finally after we calmed down, the first thing that came to my mind to say was, “How are we going to tell our parents?” I looked at the clock, it was around 4:00 AM. “It’s too early to call them, let them sleep and we will call them around 9″ Long nodded his head. Then we sat in silence until the nurse and Resident OB came back into the room. They said that I could go home and collect myself and anything I might want, or I could go ahead and be admitted to deliver our baby. I said that I wanted to go ahead and get admitted, there was no point in waiting anymore...

Once I was moved into a room in Labor & Delivery, the nurse explained that 7 AM is their shift change so I would have a different OB on call when I delivered and a new nurse would be in to take care of me. There were a few other people who went in and out preparing the room for delivery as well. It took 3 nurses and 6 tries before they were finally able to get an IV into me (apparently I have invisible veins) and then they gave me a pill that would induce me for delivery. We called our parents around 8 (9 their time) and then texted our siblings to inform them what had happened and that I was going into labor. The new OB on call came in to inform me that I could have an epidural if I wanted one. She also said that we were going to go through a natural labor because they did not want to do a caesarean unless it was necessary. (good, I didn’t want a c-section) She added at the end that the nurse would give me pain medication as needed. As the minutes passed I could feel the pain getting much stronger. What was boggling my mind was that I now knew they were contractions, but it still felt like cramps, just really bad ones. Eventually I couldn’t take the pain anymore so I asked the nurse to add some pain meds to my IV. It didn’t help. So I asked for more... still didn’t help, but next thing I knew the nurse checked and said it was time to call the OB on call back. At this point it was nonstop pain and I was screaming my lungs out. I had my eyes closed so I couldn’t see anything, I half felt like passing out because the pain. Then I felt Long grab my right hand. I didn’t want to squeeze his hand because all I could think about was that I couldn’t break his money makers. Then we’d have no money to live and take care of our children... So with my left hand I was squeezing the side bar of the bed as hard as I could. I wasn’t pushing because I figured I had to wait for the OB to arrive before she’d tell me to. But every time I felt the pain all I could do was scream. Now there were about 3 other people in the room with us (from what it sounded like because I still didn’t open my eyes). Someone grabbed my left hand from the bed bar and then I felt someone position my legs to open for delivery. Then next thing I knew I could feel the baby passing through my birthing canal and the weirdest thing happened, I felt as though I was seeing through the view of the baby coming through this tunnel and there’s a light that was growing bigger and bigger until finally my eyes were open and I was seeing the light above me and then everyone around me. I had instant relief once the baby came out of me. I saw the nurse let Long cut the cord. I saw them take the baby away from the bed to a set up they had in the corner. I saw the other nurses around me as they got the placenta out and cleaned me up. The nurse that held my left hand told me that the baby was a girl and asked if I wanted to hold her. I nodded my head and just like that the she was in my arms. (these nurses move very fast!)

There she was. My sweet little angel. Gone too soon. How I was longing so much to see her move. To see that she wasn’t gone. I wanted her to make a noise. I wanted her tiny hand to wrap around my finger. I wanted anything but the lifeless body that I was holding. Next thing I knew the nurses had cleaned everything up and cleared out again to give me and Long space. Long came over and held me as I held her and we sat there crying for the loss of our first child. A daughter. I knew it. I knew she was a girl from the moment I knew I was pregnant. It was like she was telling me through all the baby dreams that I had throughout my pregnancy, because I always dreamed she was a girl. 

As Long held her in the rocking chair next to my bed, we discussed names. Originally we had chosen to name our first born son Logan (a combination of Long and Megan) and our first born daughter would be Magnolia (our favorite tree and because we are both proud to be Southerners). We were also going with the theme of boys start with “L” and girls start with “M”. But I told him I didn’t want to use Magnolia for her because I wanted to be able to call out that name to a living child. So we decided to think of a different M name. Long asked me about Mary Magdalene. (He’s Buddhist and I’m Catholic) I told him that I didn’t remember the story exactly but that people wanted to stone her for committing adultery and Jesus saved her saying something along the lines that only someone who has not committed sin may cast the first stone. After Jesus saved her, she repented for her sins and lived a good life from that day forward. And that she was there during the crucifixion and resurrection of Jesus Christ. So he asked, “What about the name Madeline?” I told him I liked it, now we just needed to figure out what her middle name would be (we wanted all of our kids’ middle names to be their Vietnamese names). He thought about it and asked, “How about Kim An? It means Golden Peace. Since she is in eternal rest now. And my middle name is Kim and part of your mom’s name is An” I replied that it was perfect! 

The nurses left us alone and told us that we could have all the time we needed to be with Madeline. So we took turns holding her. Long rocked her in the rocking chair some more. Then the priest came in. I asked if he could baptize her but he informed me that since she was born without a beating heart he could not baptize her. However, he could say a prayer for her. So we prayed together. It was probably around noon when we decided that the nurses could take her. I was very tired from lack of sleep and so was Long. He went home to let the dogs out and feed them and took a nap while at the house. I tried to take a nap at the hospital but I couldn’t, it might have been the adrenaline from the birth but I was still wide awake, very tired, but awake. Then when Long came back the OB on call told us that since I didn’t have stitches or anything I was allowed to leave, unless I wanted to stay another night. I decided to leave because I knew Long was uncomfortable there. So we asked for some more time with Madeline before we had to give her up for the autopsy and eventually cremation.

It was so difficult to leave her. I didn’t want to give her up and not see her again. To physically hold her in my arms was what felt like the only thing keeping me sane in that moment. At the same time it was very hard to watch as her body was deteriorating in my arms. Finally we said our goodbyes. Pack our things and left to go home, without our baby girl.

[ourhappilyeverafter]

Lucy Jean

Breathe in. Breathe out. This is going to be a long post, so bear with me!

Rewind to September 2016. I was so in shock to see a positive pregnancy test. It had been over 6 years since I saw that in front of me and it was so hard to believe. I just had an overwhelming feeling that now our family would be complete.

I couldn’t believe it was true and I figured I would believe it at the first ultrasound. Nope! Second ultrasound? Nope! I was still so surprised the entire time.

The day of the 20 week ultrasound I was so anxious. I would have been happy with a boy or a girl, but deep down I had a feeling it was a little girl. When the tech confirmed my suspicion, I was still completely in shock. Over the next few months, anytime I had an ultrasound I would make them double check that it was still a girl, haha. I just couldn’t believe we would be so blessed with a sweet little boy and a little girl. It seemed too good to be true.

It was too much fun buying the cute clothes and decorating her room. I knew from the start that she would be named Lucy for my grandmother and great grandmother, both of whom I never got to meet. I also knew her middle name would be Jean, after Pete’s grandmother who recently passed away. She was like a grandmother to me and I really wanted to honor her in some way.

I had a few health issues during the pregnancy, but Lucy always looked healthy. I was always so thankful that everything that was affecting me seemed to not affect her at all.

Because the doctors all thought she would be big like Evan, my OB wanted to schedule an induction for a day before her due date, May 17th. About a week and a half before then at an ultrasound, the doctor realized she was transverse. My OB was worried that if I went into labor with her in that position, it could be dangerous for her. Therefore, he decided I should go ahead and schedule a c-section for May 11th at 39 weeks pregnant. Even though I was really hoping to avoid a c-section, I had always had the 11th in my head as the date she would be born!

The days seemed to drag on until the 11th, I was so excited and made sure the hospital bags were packed and ready. I had a pretty teal sleeper for Lucy to wear home and a little white bow. I couldn’t wait to see her in the little girl clothes and take her home to meet her big brother!

When the big day came, I was so excited. Not eating all day was a little challenging, but I was so nervous that I don’t think I could have anyway!

It was a rainy, cold day for May, but as Pete and I drove to the hospital I was so excited and happy. I imagined we would be there 3 nights and I would bring Lucy home on Mother’s Day. What an amazing Mother’s Day gift!

When we got to the hospital, everyone was so friendly. The room was so nice with a big window and a lot of space. I felt instantly comfortable and ready to spend a few days there.

When it came time for the operation, I was terrified! It was not really what I expected, although as soon as I heard Lucy cry, I was so thrilled. It made all the fear and worry go away. My little girl was here, safe and sound.

When we got back to the room, we called my parents who were ready to come over with Evan. He had been counting down the days until she was here and he was so excited!

That night, I finally got to eat a real dinner and it was amazing. My family was complete and I couldn’t be happier!

In the middle of the night, the nurses said they could watch her for a bit so I could sleep. I definitely took them up on that offer! However, around 3:00 a.m. a nurse came in to tell me that Lucy was having some episodes of rapid breathing so they were going to give her some oxygen and see if it would get back to a normal rhythm. They had her on the oxygen for about 2 hours. In the meantime, they mentioned speaking with the NICU at another hospital to see if they had an idea of what could have caused it. They told me they might have to take her there if it didn’t slow down. I spent the entire 2 hours worrying that my baby would have to leave me. Luckily at 5:30 they brought her back and said she seemed fine, the breathing had normalized, and she could stay. I was overcome with relief that my biggest fear wouldn’t be coming true.

We spent her second day snuggling with her and talking about how happy we were. Even thought my OB said I could probably leave after 2 nights, I felt fine with staying 3! It was so comfortable there and the nurses were all amazing. They offered a “celebration meal” for the family after the new baby comes. We ordered the pizza and planned to have my parents and Evan come join us for the meal.

They came right after Evan was out of school, around 4:00. Lucy was there when they arrived, but then the nurse said she needed to take her for a few minutes to run some routine tests. It had been about half an hour and she hadn’t come back. Evan kept asking when she would join us again, but I just knew deep down something was wrong. The nurse and the pediatrician came into the room soon after to tell us that Lucy was having the rapid breathing again and they had spoken with a level IV NICU team at another hospital, who felt that she should probably be transferred there. It was close to an hour away.

I was devastated. Just 12 hours before, I was relieved that she seemed to be fine. Now my worst fears had come true. They asked if I wanted to see her and I did. Despite having had a c-section about 24 hours before that, I got up and walked to the small NICU there.

It was empty except for Lucy, who was in a small clear box with all kinds of wires and oxygen hooked up. No mother expects to see her full term baby looking so sick at 1 day old. Her breathing was fast and they had all kinds of monitors on her. I was starting to have a lot of pain, so I went back to the room and planned to check on her again when the team from the NICU arrived.

Lo and Behold, that’s when the “celebration meal” arrived. Talk about a slap in the gut. It was brought in on a beautiful table with a white tablecloth and looked delicious. We were just all too upset to even eat any of it. It made me completely break down in tears.

When the NICU team arrived, I went to speak with the head nurse. They were all so calm, but I was in shock that my little baby was about to be put into an ambulance with all of these people and be taken an hour away. It was almost like an out of body experience. I felt like I was just watching all of this happen and was completely powerless. It went against every instinct I had as a mother. Who would ever expect this? No one could really tell me what would happen and as someone who likes to plan things out, I couldn’t take it. I begged them to let me be transferred to that hospital so I could be close to her. They called and asked, but unfortunately because it was a different hospital system, they were not able to do that. I knew then and there I was leaving the hospital that night. I was not going to spend two more nights without my baby in the room that I imagined would have been so full of joy.

My OB actually agreed to let me be discharged. The nurses kept asking me if I was sure I wanted to leave. Who leaves the hospital 24 hours after a c-section? But I guess my mama bear instinct kicked in and there was no convincing me otherwise. I wanted to be free to go see her and not stuck in the hospital. I really didn’t care how much pain I was in physically.

When it came time for Lucy to leave, there wasn’t any time to say goodbye. I just sat in my hospital bed and watched her wheeled away in a covered incubator. A piece of my heart left in that ambulance.

Evan was there through all of it and he climbed into the bed with me and patted my arm telling me it would be okay as I sat there and sobbed.

Pete followed the ambulance to the hospital to make sure she got there okay and said he would call and let me know any updates.

Very soon after I was discharged and wheeled out to my parent’s van to go home with them and Evan. I walked into the house and was just completely numb. Just a day before, I imagined bringing her home and here I was home without her. I immediately set a million alarms on my phone, take medication A at such and such time, medication B an hour later, pump every 3 hours. I was determined to get milk to bring to her, even if it meant being up all night.

Later that night Pete called and showed me her little room and a picture of her there. I was grateful that he was at least with her for a little while. He came home a little while later and I just couldn’t stop sobbing. Especially when he brought in her hospital bag, unpacked, and set it down. I wouldn’t open it or go into her room for the rest of the time she was in the NICU. I just couldn’t handle the emotions of it all.

The next day I woke up in a daze. I was still in incredible pain physically and was exhausted from waking up all night. Thank goodness my parents and Pete were there to help with Evan. I was just an emotional wreck.

That afternoon, Pete and I went down to the hospital to see her. She looked so tiny and fragile hooked up to all of the machines. But walking in the room and seeing her safe was a wonderful feeling.

The first few days Lucy was in the NICU, we had to wear gowns and gloves. Again, going against all my motherly instincts. Here I am holding my new baby girl and I can’t even touch her without gloves on.

Day 2 of her NICU stay was Mother’s Day. That was probably the hardest day of them all for me. I thought I would be bringing her home, but instead I was waking up at home without her. My parents had spent the night and got up to make breakfast. Everyone had made/bought me Mother’s Day cards. Evan worked really hard on his and was so excited for me to open them. I tried my hardest to smile and enjoy the sweet cards, but I was constantly on the verge of melting down in tears. I just felt like half of my heart was gone and it was almost an out of body experience. I was physically there with my family, but emotionally absent.

We decided to go down to see Lucy again that day and my parents would play with Evan at their house. I was so exhausted and dealing with a horrific headache but I just couldn’t spend the day without getting to see her. We made the long drive again and got to hold our little girl some more.

As if the poor thing hadn’t been through enough already, now she had to have an IV in her head. They called it her “unicorn horn” because it kept falling out of her wrist. At least she won’t remember it, but we felt so sorry for her!

We decided after we came back home that we could go back one more time in the evening with my parents and Evan. Unfortunately, because my parents couldn’t take their wedding rings off, they were not able to go see Lucy. The NICU is very particular on no jewelry, no cough, sickness, etc. since there are so many vulnerable babies there. We visited her again for a while and then went to eat dinner before leaving. The hospital had a Panera Bread inside which would become our go-to food place. That night I had such a terrible headache and was in so much pain that I couldn’t really eat anyway. I was sure that after Lucy was out of the NICU that I wouldn’t be able to eat at Panera Bread again!

The next day, Evan had to go to school but Pete was still off work so we were able to go down together again. I was still feeling pretty bad, but happy that Mother’s Day was over. Strange thing to say, right? That day was better when we saw Lucy.

First of all, we didn’t have to wear the gowns or gloves anymore, yay! It was so wonderful to hold her with my bare hands. She was also gradually increasing the amount of her bottles and decreasing the IV fluids. It was so wonderful to get to give her a bottle. AND no more unicorn IV! They decided it would work better in her wrist again. Pete always said it was like she had a baseball bat on her hand, if she swung it at you it would hurt! She was a little jaundice, so she had to do a day or so of light therapy. I don’t think she liked it one bit though!

You weren’t allowed to bring your phone directly into the NICU, it always had to be in a plastic bag which gave most of the pictures an ethereal type quality!

The following quote really spoke to me during Lucy’s NICU stay. I was still in so much pain physically and I am still amazed at how I managed to push through it in order to see her every day.

I would tell Lucy every day to be strong and that we would be strong together. Sometimes it was the only thing I could tell myself to get through the days.

On her 4th day in the NICU Lucy was able to go off the IV fluids and was able to eat as much as she wanted. It felt good to get through one hurdle!

That night we went to Panera Bread again as usual, but I was still feeling pretty bad and again had a hard time eating. I was pretty sure I did not want to go back there again!

We fell into a routine every time we would visit. Make the long drive down, park on level 2 of the green garage. Walk across the skywalk into the women’s hospital. There were usually pregnant women about to have their babies or mothers leaving with their new babies. Several times I was asked when I was due. That’s pretty depressing to have to tell people you already had the baby but she isn’t at home yet. :-(

After walking through the women’s hospital entrance, we made our way to the elevator and went up to level 2 to the NICU. You had to show your wristband at the front desk (which we could not take off the entire time she was there) and they would call the nurse to make sue you could come back. Once the doors were unlocked, you had to put your belongings in to a locker and then wash your hands thoroughly for 1 minute. Sometimes there were other NICU parents there washing up as well. It felt good to know someone else was going through the same emotions and experiences.

Lucy was in “The Meadow,” which was down the hall from the handwashing station. In the beginning it was so hard for me to physically even walk that far. Pete often had to help me walk and slowly make our way to her room.

Everytime we went in the room, she always looked so little. She would be swaddled in the hospital blankets and sleeping so peacefully. At the same time I just felt so helpless that she was my little baby and I couldn’t be with her 24/7. It just felt so unnatural.

The fifth day there was so exciting because she got to take the nasal cannula off! I hadn’t even seen her one full day without oxygen since she was born so it was wonderful to see her little cheeks!

I got to speak with her doctor that day, who was very optimistic that now all she had to do was finish the antibiotics and she would probably be able to come home in 2 more days. I was thrilled! I spent the car ride home being so excited that I would have only 2 more nights without her home. I felt like I finally had my appetite again and life was good.

Unfortunately on the next day, we had a setback. I arrived at the NICU feeling great and excited but as soon as I saw the nurse she explained that Lucy had a desaturation in her oxygen level. That means that her oxygen level went below 90 percent and they had to give her external oxygen in order to get it back up. The nurse said that when they have a desat, their policy is to keep them an additional three days to monitor things. She said she would check with the doctor and see what he wanted to do.

I stood there over her crib praying that he would decide she could still come home the next day. If I could have been down on my knees, I would have. I was pleading and pleading with God that things would be okay.

Well, God sometimes has a different plan then what we want. The doctor came in and confirmed that she would need an additional three days. We were now looking at Sunday as her discharge date unless she had another desat. Each time it happens, they add 3 days. So if she had gone two days without one and then had it again, that would be 3 more days on top of that. If she made it to Sunday morning, but then had one an hour before discharge, she would need 3 more days. It was uncertain and scary and I felt completely out of control. I walked out that day feeling so defeated and upset. Just when things seemed to be over, the amount of time was uncertain. My mind raced with the thoughts that it could be 3 days, or 6 days, or weeks. No one could tell me for sure what would happen and that was so frustrating. Lucy did give me an adorable smile that day!

I laughed about her funny outfit too. It was some kind of hospital gown for babies with cartoon germs all over it. I was hoping they would give it to me to save for her someday. Not exactly a cute little girl’s outfit. ;-)

When I left Lucy that day, I told her to be strong and fight through it. We just needed to get through 3 more days! The ironic thing was that that day was also her original due date. Who could have even predicted that she would be in the NICU fighting to get home on that day.

When I arrived on Day 7 of her NICU stay, I got the good news that she didn’t have any desats over night. Although I was still worried sick, it was nice to know she made it through one day.

The next day was a Saturday, so Evan didn’t have school and I felt like we should spend the morning doing something special with him. I really missed him and felt like I was neglecting him in a way. Luckily he was so amazing the entire time, although he was also sad she needed a few extra days. We went to a farm and had a picnic. It was a fun time, but I was still only really halfway present. I was so nervous that day because if she just made it through one more night, we could bring her home. I kept waiting for the ball to drop.

We went to visit her that afternoon and she had made it through day 2 of 3. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I felt so proud of her!

When the morning of Day 9 came, I was so incredibly nervous. I called the NICU right at 6 a.m. and they told me that she had a good night again with no desats. Although I was excited, I couldn’t help but worry that something might happen on the way there. I made Pete and Evan leave right at 7 and we were there by 8. Amazingly, she was still doing great when we arrived. We had to wait around for the doctor and to fill out the paperwork, but by 10:00 Pete was able to carry her out. Words can’t describe how happy I was at that moment. 

Lucy was finally home. 

She will be a month old on Sunday. I can’t believe how fast time has gone. She is such a good, happy baby. She really only cries when she’s hungry or if her tummy is upset. She is just such a joy to us and she is worth all of the stress that we had to go through!

I know that all of the prayers we had along the way made the difference. We felt so much support and love from everyone we knew. I would have never expected her birth to have ended up that way, but I know that sometimes God has a plan that we can’t understand.

I learned from this experience that a mother’s love is infinite. I learned that being a mother makes you extremely selfless. You can push past any kind of pain to help your child. You can literally lay your own life down to save theirs. I learned that my husband is amazing. He was my rock. He helped me walk through this experience, figuratively and literally! He kept calm, kept the house from falling apart, kept Evan safe and happy, and constantly reassured me things would turn out fine in the end. It was easy to fall into dark thoughts of her being there for weeks or months, or even worse, thoughts of losing her. Pete kept positive and uplifted me. For that I am truly grateful and I am so glad we will spend our lives together. For good times and bad, we can make it through anything.

We sure love our Lucy.