I’m having a bad day. In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that bad, but I needed to come home from the hospital for a good cry. It started last night when we were breastfeeding. Ian screamed and screamed every time we tried to start. He eventually went on, but it was so frustrating to not know what was wrong or how to fix it. Actually, I’m pretty sure I know what was wrong – he was starving, but I’ve learned that getting a baby to eat while he is hungrier than he’s ever been is just about impossible.
This morning got off to a much better start. I found out when I got there that he’d taken his 6am feed from a bottle. That’s what he needs to do to break out of there, so it’s very exciting. I didn’t want to set my hopes on him doing it for the 9am feed, too, but it was hard to avoid. He breastfed for a little while, then he took almost all of his bottle.
And then he choked.
His heart rate dropped. I’m pretty sure that if I’d been hooked up to a monitor, it would show that mine just stopped. I’ve never been so scared in my entire life. I pulled the bottle out and sat him up, and he was totally fine, but it still scared the hell out of me. One of the nurses warned me that he’ll do this at home, which didn’t make me feel any better. I know that it happens (I’m 32 years old and still choke on my food on a daily basis), but I still don’t like it.
His doctor came to talk to me after it happened to make sure I was okay. I mostly was, but I broke down while I was talking to her. I just feel like he’s never going to get home. I keep reminding myself that he’s fine, he’s healthy, he’s only struggling with eating because he’s a preemie, and he’s not even supposed to be born yet, but I still want him home. I miss him so much when I’m not there that my heart aches. I wanted to drive over there at 3:00 this morning when I got up to pump because I missed him so much. I just hate being separated.
It’s also disappointing because they kept predicting he’d be home by the end of this week. I didn’t want to get my hopes up, but I did, even though I thought everyone in the NICU was insane for thinking it was even a possibility. Now I know there’s no chance of that happening this week and it sucks. I know he’ll be home before I know it, but that doesn’t make it much easier. I know things could be a lot worse (that’ an understatement), but I’m still sad. I’m going to spend the afternoon sleeping, watching crap TV, pumping, and letting myself cry. Ian’s doctor told me to go out and treat myself to a new fancy pair of underwear. I think she forgets that I’m less than two weeks postpartum. It’s not the best time for fancy underwear, if you know what I mean. I think I’m going to treat myself to some new yarn instead, and start on my next knitting project for my little dude. He’ll be home to wear it soon enough.