My name is Marriah and I'm eight days old. It's easter, and I get as much bottle as I want!
The doctor's wanted to try something called Propanolol, on thursday, to see if it will my heart to relax. A relaxed heart can draw more blood in before pumping it out, in this case, to the lungs. The potential result being a heart able to move more blood to the lungs without requiring PGE or some other procedure.
Daddy brought his guitar and played me some lullabies. I'm not sure what to think about that. He's an ok guitar player, as long as he sticks to the easy chords. My favorites are "Half Way Down the Stairs" and "Helleluja" which are both easy enough for daddy to play without making too many mistakes.
I also got to start drinking from a bottle, instead of getting nutrients through my I.V. That made my tummy happy. Mommy put me to breast, and I was able to suckle a little from her. I'm still figuring out how all that works. It wears me out to search around for dinner, breathe, and swollow, all in the right order. By the time We were done, I was tuckered out and breathing very fast.
The night went on uneventfully, and I met a new nurse who says she has been working at the hospital since before my Daddy had his surgery here. She says she may very well have been at my daddy's bedside during his recovery.
On friday, I got a new crib! I didn't need the auto-heater any more, since I was keeping temperature on my own. Mommy drove home the previous night to repack for a longer stay, when she saw my new diggs, she was both happy and sad. Happy to see me in a more baby-friendly setting, sad that it wasn't back at our house - which I have yet to see.
I got bumped up from 21ml of bottle to 36ml. Mommy tried to put me to breast a couple more times, but each time was more exhausting than the last. By the end of the day, I was working too hard to catch my breath, even while taking a bottle. So mommy bravely gave up trying to breast feed for now. All the while she has been faithfully pumping breast milk for me to have by bottle. Someday, I hope to understand all the sacrifices mommy has lovingly made for me.
The nurses also started changing me back from a Borg! They installed a different kind of IV called a PIC. Instead of being a short tube that runs just long enough for a hand or foot veign, they put in a longer tube that runs to a more major artery. They finally removed the (something) from my inner thigh, and the IV from the right of my head. Now I look more like a baby, and less like a cyborg.
I still have a flashing light on my right hand and left foot, the PIC in my right foot, a PIV in my left hand, and four sensors for heart rate, breathing rate, and temperature. So I have a long way to go to escape asymilation.
By saturday, I had gotten a chance to relax, and just have a bottle every three hours. By that morning, I was hungry enough for more, and I wasn't afraid to let everyone know it! I told those nurses a thing or two about how hungry I was getting. They talked to the doctors who agreed, it was time for me to go "PO adlib" which is a fancy way of saying, I can have however much bottle as I want at each sitting.
My first full bottle was devoured, and they gave me a little extra only thirty minutes later. Then only two hours later, I was hungry for another, even fuller bottle. I went from 36ml every three hours to 120ml in four hours flat. After my initial feast, I was able to settle into a full bottle of 60ml every three hours or so. I finally gained enough energy to open my eyes a few times throughout the day. I could see that my improving appetite made mommy and daddy very happy.
They started flirting again, kissing and cuddling eachother. I didn't mind, they worked great helping eachother manage me. With the morning meatings, asymilation, rotating nurses, constant appetite, and a loud cry when voicing my displeasure, I'm sure that I was a handful. Mommy and daddy left the late night feedings to the nurse so they could get some quality sleep.
Mommy and daddy visited me at six in the morning on Easter. I got an easter basket with Mickey Mouse, a pinwheel, and a balloon that said, "Get Well Soon!" written on it. Mommy and daddy said it reminds them of their third day here, when the doctors used a tiny balloon to open the blocked valve in my heart. By mid-day the nurses took the balloon away, though. They said it might combust with all the oxygen equipment close by. I hope I can have it back when I'm out of the NICU.
After mass, the doctors met with mommy and daddy and told them that I was doing well and everyone is optomistic about the second PGE weening on monday. Throughout the rest of the day, I had a bottle about once every two hours. I drank so much that I was getting flush with fluids. The nurses gave me Lasix to help me go pee-pee more often. But that meant more diaper changes; I hate diaper changes, and I am not afraid to cry my displeasure at the top of my lungs. I usually get to have mom's milk after each change, though.
Happy easter, everyone!