NICU Is Our "Normal"  

I've been asked four times in the last four days if I went to medical school.

Of course, the answer is no (I don't do bodily fluids or needles very well). But because Baby C is our second child to go through the NICU journey, I am very well-versed in the medical jargon that goes along with his specific condition.

Q4... central line... IVIG... these are all terms that probably mean absolutely nothing to you. But since Tuesday, they've been a way of life for us. Blood tests and other screenings every four hours (that's "Q4"); the debate over whether to install a central line through Baby C's belly button to give the phlebotomists easier access to his blood supply; the decision not to administer a dose of IVIG to help bring his bilirubin levels down to a normal level.

When DH & I went through this two and a half years ago with G, we were flummoxed, scared and paranoid. We didn't know what to expect, and were really blindsided by it all. In fact, when we had gone on our obligatory hospital tour during my third trimester, we hadn't even paid attention to the NICU portion -- we didn't think it would apply to us. This time, we set aside the time and (financial) resources in advance necessary to cope with a NICU stay of at least a week. We were prepared in every possible way.

The neonatologists are starting to discuss when Baby C will go home. I hate to type this, because I don't want to jinx us, but a Mother's Day homecoming is a definite possibility. What a gift! In NICU, time seems to stand still. Between the beeps of the ECG machine and the hum of his heplock IV, it's almost like a fourth dimension suspended between time and space, garish fantasy and reality. I can't wait for C to join his big sister at home, and for our life as a family of four to truly begin.