Birth Story, Part 2: Special Care

After being born, Daniel was whisked directly off to the hospital’s Special Care Nursery. It’s technically a “level II” unit, which means they can care for all but the sickest and/or most premature infants. It’s got 16 beds, and is staffed ’round the clock by a neonatologist and 4-6 nurses.

So, there went Daniel, who was grunting quite a bit, indicating he was working somewhat hard to clear his lungs and breathe freely. Rebecca, though smaller, was breathing well and came back to recovery with us. On the way over to my postpartum room, they wheeled me in to see Daniel, though all I could really see were his feet. He was lying in a warming bed attached to monitors and an IV, but they were letting him try to work out his breathing issues on his own. No extra oxygen, no CPAP, just letting him work it out. And by later in the afternoon, he had.

Around lunchtime, Rebecca and I were hanging out in my room (as I managed to spill jello on both of us), when my nurse noticed her feet and hands were looking a little too blue. It’s not unusual for newborns to have poor circulation to their extremities, but hers were looking a little too dark. They took her off to the well-baby nursery to get watched, and a little while later they moved her to a warmer in Special Care so that someone would be able to keep a closer eye on her.

By Saturday morning I was unhooked from my various wires and tubes, and was wheeled over to see the babies. They were in separate warmers, but both looked good. Rebecca was taking some food by mouth and some through a tube in her nose, and Daniel would start doing the same shortly. I was even allowed to hold them for a few minutes. By Sunday morning, Rebecca’s tube was out as she proved to be a voracious eater. We even tried putting her to breast a few times, and for such a teeny thing, she has a pretty decent latch. Daniel would take about half of his feed and get tired. The rest would be pumped down the tube so he could get the calories without having to work too hard.

Sunday evening, Daniel was fussy in his warmer and they decided he didn’t need it anymore. He was off of the IV, as he was able to take his feeds and infection had been ruled out, so antibiotics were stopped. They swaddled him up and put him in an open crib, and he happily settled down. At the next feed, Rebecca joined him in the crib.

Monday was spent improving on feeds, which were formula since all of my pumping was coming to naught. Tuesday was my discharge day, and a difficult one for me. Rebecca’s bilirubin levels were slightly elevated, so she had to leave the crib for an incubator with lights. Daniel was still not taking his feeds as well as we wanted. And I had to leave the hospital.

By Wednesday, though, things started to turn back around. Rebecca came off the lights and back to the crib, and Daniel pulled out his own feeding tube in protest and started taking his feeds better by mouth. They even had us bring in a carseat so they could do their carseat test that night (must be able to spend 90 min. in the carseat without respiratory or cardiac troubles).

All tests came back good on Thursday, and they started to really seem confident that Friday would be discharge day. We were going to the hospital to do four of their feeds every day, and though the hospital is less than 10 minutes from home, the back and forth was really getting tiring. We learned how to give them a quick sponge bath, and got a lot of safety tips and instructions from the nurse. I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high, in case anything happened overnight, but Friday seemed like it would really be the day.

Indeed, all was well when we went for the 8AM feed this morning. No one had any feeding, breathing, or circulation trouble overnight, weights were good, bilirubin levels were down. We got some brief instruction in Infant CPR, and the nurse told us we could go disconnect them from the monitors and get them dressed to go home, one week exactly since they arrived.

Excuse me?

That’s when we got a little nervous. You mean, there will be no screen we can look at to make sure they’re still breathing? No 24-hour RN keeping a watchful eye over us? Are you sure this is wise?

But we made it. We got them dressed and safely buckled into their carseats and secured into the van. We drove a little more cautiously than usual on the way home, but it didn’t take the 30 minutes we predicted to go the three miles to the house.

There was a small part of me that was even a little sad to leave the SCN. It was tiring to go back and forth, hard to grasp the reality of having babies when someone else is taking care of them and you only visit and do what they say. But the nurses and doctors were nothing short of wonderful. They were not just skilled and efficient, but also caring toward the whole family, happy to help the new parents take on additional tasks when possible. They were very supportive of efforts to breastfeed, and would be the first to call in the Lactation Consultant to come help. They were funny and personable. I’m looking forward to my first of the annual SCN reunions around Labor Day.

But nothing beats sitting at my computer and looking over at my two babies, sleeping snugly in the Pack n Play in our den. This is the best.