Homecoming

 

I promise I will post all about Canada with lots of photos very soon. This post is about July 21, the one year anniversary of Fiona’s homecoming. It was a Wednesday.

It all started during the weekend when Doctor Ben made an off-hand comment that Fiona was scheduled to go home on Tuesday or Wednesday. Wha?!? A nurse told us to bring the car seat on Monday. We watched the CPR video. She passed her car seat test with flying colors, but she lost 45 grams at her weight check Monday night. Now 45 grams would not be noticeable, but at the time it was a lot of weight to lose in one night. Luckily, she gained back 65 at her weight check on Tuesday night. John took Wednesday morning off and we called the NICU Wednesday morning to find out if Doctor Van Houten (her other doctor and the chief neonatologist) approved the discharge. We called many times because at first he hadn’t completed rounds yet (the NICU had two sides and the doctors always start on the side with the sicker babies), and then he hadn’t yet seen Fiona, and then we were just waiting for him to review her charts, give us a thumbs up and sign the paperwork.

We drove to the hospital and it was surreal, to think this was (hopefully) our last drive. Our last need to flash our badges. Our last 3 minute wash with the soap that dries your hands to the point of cracking. Last time picking up the phone and asking to be let in. Last time looking at the monitors and knowing what her heart rate, respiration rate, and blood oxygen levels were. Was it real? Was she really coming home, or was something going to happen to change that? It seemed like we had been doing this forever, going to the hospital day and night to visit Fiona, it was just part of our lives. Could this chapter really be coming to an end?

I bought an outfit for her in two sizes – preemie and newborn – because I didn’t know which one would fit. The preemie one was too small, so we left it at the NICU as a donation. Her nurse that morning, Janelle, reviewed all the paperwork with us and explained how to tell if something was wrong  and what to do about it (read: if the baby turns blue, call 911). A nutritionist explained how to fortify the pumped breast milk using preemie formula. We were given vitamins and instructed on how to administer them. Janelle unceremoniously turned off the monitor and removed the cuff and leads from Fiona’s body. And that was it. From now on, we would not have a machine to tell us if she was in distress, we would have to pay really close attention and be very careful. No one else was going to take care of her. We were solely responsible. It was terrifying.

Side note: Very soon after she came home we stopped fortifying or giving vitamins. Both upset her stomach and smelled awful and once she was entirely weaned from bottles, both were unnecessary.

We requested the hospital photographer to take pictures. They are sort of awful but I did not care at the time.  Here are the least objectionable photos:

 

 

For the record, she was crying and very unhappy about being posed. I am not sure how we got any photos at all. She also kept falling asleep, so we have several with her eyes closed.

After all that was finished, we put her in the car seat for the first time (for us) and carried her to the car. I was giddy. She came home in the green Honda CRV and on the way home. She was so tiny in the car seat. She looked so big to me in the hospital that I did not realize how small she really was. The pacifier took up half her face. In the NICU I didn’t see any of the other babies in the cribs. I felt very isolated and did not have any concept of size, other than that Fiona was huge compared to the day she was born.

So small, but already had a big personality!

When we got home, we just held her while she slept, me in the rocker in her room and John in a chair in the living room. I waited seven long weeks to do this:

She spent a lot of time sleeping during the day. At night, not so much. I have never been as tired as I was those first few weeks home. John took four weeks vacation from work and we had lots of fun taking long walks around our neighborhood and trying to function on virtually no sleep at all.

  

  

Still on bottles, falling sleep while being burped.

Before July 21, I felt as though I was renting a baby from the hospital, like she wasn’t really mine, because she did not live with me and I had to drive to see her and then occasionally ask permission to hold her. Now she was really home, in our house, in her room that we made for her. I could pick her up whenever I wanted and did not have to leave her at the end of the night. It turns out I couldn’t leave her at night because she missed the memo that dark outside = sleeping time.

Fiona was 31 weeks 2 days gestation and 3 pounds 10 ounces at birth, 16.5 inches long. She came home at 38 weeks gestation (so still premature) but weighed 5 pounds 13 ounces and was 20 inches long. Now, one year later, she weighs 17 pounds 14 ounces (still a peanut, but hopefully catching up after her illness-induced weight loss) and is over 29 inches long, possible 30.

Deep sigh.

I love her so much. She brings so much joy to my life. Today she figured out how to pull on the cabinet handles to open them. Luckily, they have safety latches. She tries to feed me, and I noticed she sometimes puts the food in her mouth then hands it to me. I think she is imitating me because I sometimes use my teeth to make pieces smaller for her so it looks to her like I’m biting or eating the food, then giving it to her. She squeals for cheese and bananas and plays peek-a-boo. She loves laundry. She climbs stairs. Soon, she’ll be walking.

Here she is sleeping in a car seat in Canada on Monday:

My love.