The hardest thing

As I sit here in the NICU with my daughter I realize that everything else that has happened in my life is being somewhat put into perspective by this.  I never knew the difficulty of seeing your child hooked up to tubes and monitors, knowing that she is receiving top-notch care yet still desperately wanting to pick her up and run out the door.

I know, in my logical self, that she's doing better.  She isn't in pain, she isn't going downhill, she is improving.  But, my emotional self is battling.  I want to hold my child, rock her, feed her and love her without monitors beeping with every move I make.  I want to hear her cry at night and know that I there to comfort her.  I want to be able to look at her and make sure she's warm and comfy anytime I please.

The hardest thing is leaving each night, knowing that if my child cries for Mommy that I am not here.  I pray that she will be home soon.



On a more clinical, update note Samantha is doing well.  She is taking bottles more often now, which is good.  She must be bottle fed only for 48 hours before we can take her home, which we are praying we will hit tomorrow.  Each feeding is an emotional ordeal for me, although Doug is handing it much better than I so he does a lot of the feedings.  Her blood results have come back in and she did not inherit my beta thalassemia, which is a great relief to Doug and I.  She is showing no signs of infection and is no longer on IV tubes for medication or fluids.  We will be having an ultrasound done on her heart tomorrow at some point, although the neonatologist does not think that we have a serious issue there-- they are playing it safe based on what they are hearing/seeing with her heart.  She's a different baby than the one that was rushed in here a week ago, and we thank God daily for the miracles he is working in our lives.