Well, I Lied

Of course, as soon as I create an entire blog titled “Tales From the Plastic Crib,” my little mischief-maker turns around and graduates to a big boy crib. So, just pretend this blog is called, “Tales From the Metal Crib.”

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He’s a stinker! (Said in my best Ana from “Frozen” voice impression)

What’s been up with Mr. Jackson today? Well, his breathing is doing somewhat better than the early days. When we rushed him to the ER, he was breathing 128 breaths/min., whereas a newborn normally breathes 40-60 breaths/min. So, yeah, he was quite the overachiever in that area.

Lately, he has been in the 60-90 range, which is better, but not great. They’re giving him more oxygen, as well as two meds to keep the pressure and workload off his heart, which should help with the tachypnea (ta-kip-nee-ah), aka huffing and puffing to breathe.

Why is the breathing so important? Besides the obvious (I mean, DUH), it’s our golden ticket to going home. His oxygen is under control, so, if we can get his breathing down enough for me to bottle feed him for two days straight (his breathing has to be below 65/minute in order for it to be worth the calories he’s burning by having to suck), then we’re in business.

So, to recap:

Meds regulated and slower breathing = bottle feeding —> bottle feeding (plus good O2 levels, and adequate heart rate) = going home.

Which, is why I stare at this screen. All. Day. Long. At least it’s pretty colors.

If that all doesn’t happen, we’re looking at surgery, and soon. Little buddy’s heart, which is technically in congestive heart failure already, is making him work too hard. The good news is the cardiologist said he would be strong enough to do the surgery today if he had to for some reason. So, that’s a positive sign!

The nurses just love him, and his funky, comic book Honest diapers. Who wouldn’t?!

Now, I’m off to find some sleepers that snap down the front and have no feet, because that is the optimal attire for a NICU baby sporting wires all over his tiny body! I’ll be glad when we get to cut those strings and turn Pinnochio back into a real boy at home, where he BELONGS!

It’s Oddly Nice Being Here

We didn’t want to be here. I mean, no one ever wants to be here. But, here we are. And, flipping the coin, I am glad to be here. It’s the best place we could be right now. I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Where, you ask? Why, here, the place with the the cutesy rooms, the pastel colored walls, and, of course, the plastic cribs. The place where clowns line up at the salad bar, red noses and all. The place where therapy dogs roam the halls, and where all the nurses and doctors are fluent in Goo-Goo-Ga-Ga. Baby talk.

We are here, at the children’s hospital.

We’ve got our sparkly wristbands (blue for boy, of course), that grant us access to the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit, as well as get us out of paying parking garage fees (it’s like a VIP wristband at a club!). We have super exclusive access to the Family Break Room, where it’s free ice water 24/7.

Being here also means we have access to the best doctors in the state– top of their classes, and most of them have the wackiest and most calming bedside manners I’ve ever seen. If you can get me to smile while talking about the 6 mm hole in my son’s heart, you’ve got magical powers, my friend.

These are the tales from the plastic crib. Well, not my crib. Baby Jack(son)’s crib. Meet little Jack:

You can tell he’s a fighter, he’s already got his fists up to box the next person that calls him “sick”.

He’s got a hole in his heart. He only has one functioning kidney. He’s got a little hand, which we call his lucky fin, just like Finding Nemo (THANK YOU, Disney– I never truly understood the movie until my son was born). And he’s still tied for first as the cutest baby on the planet (tied for first with his sister, of course).

These will be his tales from the plastic crib. One day, I hope he reads back over these posts and says, “Gosh, mom, sorry y’all had to go through all of that! Thank goodness I don’t remember anything, since I was so little.”

Can’t wait to have that conversation with him.