Jenna's stay in NICU was an experience so full of emotion for me. The morning after Jenna was born, Sam and I were holding in our room when an older lady dressed casually came in and said she was here to see the baby. After Sam told her she had the wrong room, she introduced herself as the fill-in for my pediatrician, and said she would be examining Jenna. She wheeled her out, and came back 15 minutes later saying that Jenna had "performed well" for her. I said I was glad (not knowing she was being sarcastic), and she told me she was having the nurses give her a bottle of formula. Sam and I were instantly upset, as we wanted me to breastfeed her from the start, and told her to hold off on the formula, when she told us, "Listen, your baby stopped breathing, she turned blue, is on oxygen, and unless you want her brain fried, you'll let us feed her formula". Sam and I were completely confused. Our baby was perfectly healthy, and suddenly she was talking about her being blue and her brain being fried? I was stunned and asked if I could try to pump some milk for her so that she could at least have that. The doctor told me that for a "normal" baby that would be fine, but that our baby wasn't normal and needed the formula. Still completely confused about what was going on, we hurried to the nursery to see them preparing Jenna to go to NICU, the neonatal intensive care unit. Once there, they hooked her up to several monitors to watch her oxygen levels, put her on several IV's and antibiotics, and put a tube down her stomach to drain any liquids. The tube to her stomach was the saddest part, she hated it there and gagged continually with it down her throat. It was so hard from going to holding our perfectly healthy little girl to seeing her hooked up to so many machines, not able to do anything but stand next to her and rub her little hands with IV's in them. Sam and I stayed with Jenna until late that night, standing next to her and talking to her, until the nurse literally had to make us leave to go get some sleep. As we left little Jenna started bawling, and I did the same as we walked back to our room without her. I remember waking up throughout the night crying, just wanting to hold her so bad. The next day we woke up early and did the same thing again all day long, just Sam and I together watching our little girl and the machines, panicking every time her oxygen got low. She had a couple more episodes where she stopped breathing, and that night Sam and I got discharged from the hospital without her. Packing up her little "going home" outfit and leaving without her was so hard. I don't know how I could have made it without Sam, he was such a support and so calm throughout the whole ordeal. The next couple days consisted of rushing to the hospital early, praying on the way that she did okay throughout the night, and staying with her until late at night. I was always so nervous to ask the nurses how the night went, but each day she got better and better. The nurses and doctors in NICU were some of the sweetest people I have ever met. After a couple of days they helped of move the tubes and IV's out of the way so we could hold her, and they let us take her temperature, change her, and do little things that helped us feel close to her. Although it was hard to go through, looking back it was such a special experience to spend all day, every day of that first week with just me and Sam, holding our little girl, praying she would be okay. I have never felt closer to Sam than I did during that week. He was such a comfort to me and made everything so much better. During Jenna's first day, Sam gave Jenna a father's blessing silently with all the hustle going on around us. From that moment on he was certain she would be okay, and helped me feel the same. I will never forget seeing the other parents with their premature babies in the NICU. Jenna looked like a giant next to all the other babies, many who were the size of a barbie. A mom whose baby was in the incubator next to Jenna came for hours every day, watching her baby boy's monitor and talking softly to him. He had already been there for 6 weeks and was still so tiny. I remember when his oxygen levels would drop, the monitors would start to beep and she would say over and over to him, "Breathe in, breath out, breathe in, breathe out." It broke my heart, thinking of her and all the other parents doing that week after week.
After five days, we showed up early and they surprised us by saying Jenna was doing just fine and ready to go home. We were so shocked and excited, but also scared about if we could handle her on our own. In NICU where had doctors and nurses watching her constantly, and it scary to think about just us being responsible for her and her breathing. But both Sam and I felt strongly that her breathing issues had passed, and got to dress our little girl in her pink going home outfit and leave the hospital with her. I am so grateful Sam was able to give Jenna a father's blessing, and for the sweet doctors and nurses that cared so much for her. I am so grateful for a sweet husband that made the experience a tender one, even though it was so scary at the same time.
I can't believe I am posting this picture, but it's too funny not to. Our last night at the hospital they served us a "Couple's Celebration Dinner", where they gave us sparking cider, fancier menu choices, dessert, etc." We had been in NICU all day and I started crying when I saw the dinner, because I did not want to go home without Jenna. Sam snapped a picture, getting me mid-bite with both our trays, looking like I was downing a feast.
