The prompt was “Crisis” and since NICU parents deal with this all the time, I thought this was appropriate.
My daughter and I had a great day with our little Cali yesterday. I blogged before about Cali’s premature arrival and the complications she has faced since. She is 3 ½ months old and we still don’t have a homecoming date.
We stayed in Miami last night so we were with her until around 9pm and my daughter even got to help give her baby a bath for the second time ever. It’s tricky with a PIC line. Also, when you live over 80 miles away and spend most of your days here, and the baths are given at night, it’s tougher to participate. Last night was the first time I had ever seen my beautiful little granddaughter’s skinny little behind. What a sight to behold!
All Clean!!
We got up this morning and had breakfast, anxious to arrive at the hospital. In good spirits, I parked the car and I chose the stairs as my daughter took the elevator. We usually park on the 5th floor but I always beat her by taking the stairs. And believe me; I need the exercise with the delectable guava pastries (stress eating) that Nicklaus Children’s Hospital serves. Leave it to me to know about the food.
There was a long line at the check in and since I had left my monthly pass in the car (and I wasn’t going back outside and up those stairs or in the sweltering parking lot elevator) I had to wait in it. Impatiently, Morgan flashed her pass and went on up to the 2nd floor, eager to see Cali.
When I arrived in the NICU (Neonatal Intensive Care Unit) a few minutes later, I could tell by Morgan’s face that something was wrong. The nurse explained that Cali had begun vomiting last night and her heart rate had dropped a little a few times. This can mean so many things, but they were immediately stopping all food and doing blood work to rule out infection. They asked us to leave so they could insert a second tube in her nose (opposite nostril from feeding tube) to pull excess air from her stomach.
My eyes welled up and in all seriousness, I wanted to curl up on the floor and cry. However motherhood kicked in and I knew I had to be strong for my baby girl. We went to the waiting room until the procedures were over and then my baby girl wanted to hold her baby girl. I sat in a chair beside her, more for moral support than anything. Cali slept and I looked around the room, which currently is home to approximately 7 babies; I overheard them say they have a total of 42 patients in NICU right now, which I understand is a lot for them.
Morgan and Cali
There are babies in much more serious condition than Cali’s. There are older ones, younger ones, bigger and smaller. Some cry a lot and some you never hear a peep out of (at least when I’m there). I pray for all of them and I ache for the parents and what they are going through.
They come here from all over, show their ID or passes, push buttons so doors will open and wash their hands thoroughly multiple times per day. They sit in a room that is filled with beeping machines that have the power to give them quite a scare and they listen and try to understand as doctors and nurses reveal plans and strategies. Some of their children are growing out of the clothes and diapers they got at baby showers and some have even outgrown some of the toys.
Yet, they face each crisis with a strength that I had never seen before, having had two healthy, and delivered at-term babies. I look at them and not only compassion floods my soul, but also respect and admiration. I will shed tears in my prayers over this little world I didn’t realize existed until April 13th. Sure, I knew there were sick babies, but I had no idea of the big picture.
I have focused on one small group of breaking hearts in my post, yet there are hundreds of others. More people going through this life with a heavy load and dealing with things we can’t imagine unless we have been there.
I know I’ve said this over and over, but let’s give people the benefit of the doubt because we truly don’t know. That lady in line in front of you with the blank look on her face who doesn’t hear the cashier saying, “Next, please”, could have been my daughter this morning. Be patient with her.
We are praying and believe that Cali will bounce back from this step backwards and come home quickly and give her doctor’s a shock. This journey is increasing our faith and our strength and I thank God for that. God will continue to provide the strength, mercy and grace for each and every day. He always does!
I would also be remiss if I didn’t thank the amazing team of doctors, nurses and all other staff at Nicklaus. We couldn’t be in better, more caring hands and I’m truly grateful. Oh, and a special kudos also to the cafeteria staff for their tasty creations and their smiles of concern. We also have the best friends and family ever and our community has rallied around us like a great wall of love and protection. There is NO way to begin to thank them all appropriately!
Was the game called Sorry where you move game piece forward or back based on where you land? The other day my daughter said, “Two steps forward and ten steps back” and I visualized that game. She was referring to her baby’s progress this week after three months in the NICU. She was frustrated, exhausted both physically and mentally and was exaggerating just a tad. It would have been easy for me to say something trite like, “Well, it could be worse”, or “All in good time”, but I knew it was better to just stay silent and try to rub the knot out of her neck. I know my daughter and her patience level was waxing thin on that particular day.
The 
Long walks and dark chocolate 