We shot over to the NICU this morning hoping for miracles. We did stop for coffee – good decision. Tess is better – she was kicking her legs and trying to get the iv out of her hand – but is still not herself. They’re giving her a third transfusion, as her numbers came up, but not enough. She’s pinker, but still intubated. No tests have come back positive, but they’re still planning to treat her with antibiotics for 7 days, as something’s clearly wrong.
Everyone tells us she needs us, but I think we both feel pretty useless right now. We touch her head or hand and talk to her, but she’s drugged, exhausted and feels like crap. Can she even tell we’re there? We were talking to the other 26-weeker adoptive couple about how dependent you become on her monitor. If she high stats, that must mean she knows we’re there and likes it, right? It’s like trying to interpret an 8-ball!
Well, the doctor is screening for scary stuff, but they found a bug in her lungs, so pneumonia is still the prime suspect. Everyone seems pretty calm, so nothing drastic is happening – but when it’s your 2 lb baby, it all seems to matter A LOT. So lumbar puncture in 45 minutes, head scan to follow. Not too worried about either, but huge dislike.
Strangely, Tess being sick makes us more typical NICU parents. We’re making friends left and right! The other Ronald McDonald house couple keeps checking in with us, and just letting us know that they’ve been through it and the other side isn’t too far off. This whole drama in the NICU thing is restoring my faith in humanity.
Lumbar puncture and head scan done – waiting for results. We know the risk is low, but it’s nice to take it out of the game completely. Tess is so wrecked she’s not even trying to breathe without the vent. So sad! But all of the tests, exams, moving, etc takes what little energy she had and just wipes it off the map. On a happier note, her latest tests say her blood and gas levels are back to”textbook”. We’ll take it!
Tess is doing a little better, but she’s still not even trying to breathe on her own. That’s really hard to hear as a parent – that your kid is so sick she doesn’t have the energy for the most basic function in the world. I felt like people needed me to say today was better, and I’m not there yet. Tess is better, but it doesn’t feel better to us. We still see our pumpkin with tubes sprouting from everywhere, limp as a rag doll. So I felt like I was apologizing all day for having a bad day – but it’s okay to have a bad day sometimes. Our daughter is sick – really sick. And I won’t apologize to anyone in the future for letting that get to me. I wasn’t behaving badly – just wasn’t myself. Either is Tess. We know she will get better, and things will be cheerful again! But we appreciate the good days because the bad ones remind us of how valuable those good days are.
Still, there are 3 more Oplingers in Utah today! And I’d say it’s doing great wonders for the whole state – definitely for us. 🙂 Sarah, Rose and Dan all rolled in this evening, and laughing at inappropriate jokes and telling stories is a great way to spend an evening. Dave and I are dragging pretty hard. Tess had a clear brain scan and no meningitis, but we didn’t find out til 9 tonight. People, that makes for a loooong day. Sarah is so good at making you laugh despite the burnout, and Rose and Dan always make us feel like we’re getting hugged. We were so happy to share healthy, growing Tess with my family, but we need family right now just to get through the constant, nagging worry – even though it’s a lot less fun to share our sick girl than the feisty, thriving one. So thanks to all of them for being themselves, in salt lake city.
Here’s hoping we can pull ourselves together and be more entertaining tomorrow! For now, yawn…time for sleep.