Really? I was this big. Yikes. Should have busted out the measuring tape. Aaron took this picture of me as we were leaving for the hospital on Wednesday night, 11-12.
12.02.2008
12.01.2008
11.28.2008
11.21.2008
The Price of Miracles
I found this article, ironically, in the Providence Journal online this afternoon. It's about premature babies at Women and Infants, something I've suddenly experienced very closely in the past week.
It's been a hard week with Annika in the hospital, but we are realistic about her condition. There are many reasons to feel blessed, despite her illness. She will be home Sunday or Monday. She is strong and in good health. In the NICU, this is great news.
I saw more than a few families immediately confront a fragile newborn and weeks or months in the NICU. The parents of these babies must make critical and wrenching decisions daily. They must also endure a slow vigil in which progress is measured in grams and milliliters and days, during which the setbacks are often greater than the successes.
Before this week with Annika, I'd never seen babies so small as some of her neighbors. By comparison, she's fat, pink, and alert --- and still spent more than a week in intensive care. It's a hard place to be, to have to return to every day. This article provides a little window into it.
It's been a hard week with Annika in the hospital, but we are realistic about her condition. There are many reasons to feel blessed, despite her illness. She will be home Sunday or Monday. She is strong and in good health. In the NICU, this is great news.
I saw more than a few families immediately confront a fragile newborn and weeks or months in the NICU. The parents of these babies must make critical and wrenching decisions daily. They must also endure a slow vigil in which progress is measured in grams and milliliters and days, during which the setbacks are often greater than the successes.
Before this week with Annika, I'd never seen babies so small as some of her neighbors. By comparison, she's fat, pink, and alert --- and still spent more than a week in intensive care. It's a hard place to be, to have to return to every day. This article provides a little window into it.
11.17.2008
Annika Update
Good news! Annika is recovering very well from her initial breathing problems. She's out of the hood and in a little enclosed crib, breathing now through a nasal tube. Her breathing has improved to the point that I was able to nurse her today, which is a big step. The kid has been dying to eat, and enjoyed it so much she gave herself hiccups. So, we're making progress. She will remain in the hospital to finish her course of antibiotics before being discharged at the end of the week.
Five days ago I had no concept of what a hospital was like. I hadn't spent a night in one since I was born. Just the process of labor and delivery was educational. Now, I have had a newborn in the NICU, and I have seen more than I ever could have fathomed.
The NICU is a difficult place to be. After a few days, I've seen a pattern. At first, you're in shock, numbly reoounting the horrible details of what you've been told is wrong with your baby. The second phase is the spontaneous sobbing. Provocations great and small prompt you to weep senselessly. Ultimately, you accept what's going on, and you rise and fall with your child's condition. A good report is an exultation, while a rough night or bad news undoes you completely.
Fortunately, saints be praised, Annika is going to be fine. Not being able to hold her for the first 30-something hours was hard, but her prognosis is excellent. And although it's exhausting to be recovering from the delivery and schlepping to the hospital, I'm able to be more of a mother to her every day. The circumstances this week could be better. But for what they are, it could be so much worse, and I feel blessed nevertheless.
Five days ago I had no concept of what a hospital was like. I hadn't spent a night in one since I was born. Just the process of labor and delivery was educational. Now, I have had a newborn in the NICU, and I have seen more than I ever could have fathomed.
The NICU is a difficult place to be. After a few days, I've seen a pattern. At first, you're in shock, numbly reoounting the horrible details of what you've been told is wrong with your baby. The second phase is the spontaneous sobbing. Provocations great and small prompt you to weep senselessly. Ultimately, you accept what's going on, and you rise and fall with your child's condition. A good report is an exultation, while a rough night or bad news undoes you completely.
Fortunately, saints be praised, Annika is going to be fine. Not being able to hold her for the first 30-something hours was hard, but her prognosis is excellent. And although it's exhausting to be recovering from the delivery and schlepping to the hospital, I'm able to be more of a mother to her every day. The circumstances this week could be better. But for what they are, it could be so much worse, and I feel blessed nevertheless.
Metal Hands
This is not only a very touching photograph of my lovely daughter Annika. It's also an inadvertent flashing of the universal heavy metal hand gesture by me. According to heavy metal legend, the origin of metal hands is an Italian gesture meant to ward off evil spirits. We'll take it. But make no mistake. My kid also rocks.
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