Isolation.
Tell me, what is the first thing that comes to mind when you see or hear the word isolation? Maybe...being removed from the group to eliminate contact, like in our talkative elementary school years? What about that sinking feeling when it seems like the whole world is bullying you mercilessly? (Most of the people who did that to me in junior high still deny it to this day, and that's OK. May God bless you.) Perhaps, even after watching 28 Days and seeing the people quarantined in isolation or devoured by zombies? Anyway, you get the point.
Isolation in the NICU means putting a baby in a private room to minimize the spread of virus or infection to other babies. This is done for the baby's health. Once laboratory test results come back, then she is reintroduced to the pods she had been living in.
Upon seeing the word isolation taped around Caeli, I was shell-shocked. How can my baby pick up something so serious that she had to be moved to a different room that requires the nurses, doctors, and specialists to don procedure masks and yellow gowns? She's three months old. Are they preparing themselves for a colossal meltdown of Nuclear One in Russellville and not telling us? Is this virus something more critical than they are telling us? This is getting scary now.
Around 10:30 Sunday morning, we found out that Caeli could return to her pod and all of her tests came back negative. A cold, they say. I'll take it. More importantly, thank God that she doesn't have a further compromised respiratory system!
This one hits very close to home and my heart. When my baby girl was almost 4, she became extremely ill with a stomach bug and after a day and a half of barely holding down anything, even water, she lost nearly half her body weight (to be fair, I have small babies, and at 2 weeks until her 4th birthday, she was barely 30 pounds, but had dipped just below 20 in the ER). So for new year's, I got an express trip to Children's via Angel One as they decided to med flight her from Clarksville to Children's. Upon arrival, they isolated her because they honestly didn't know exactly what the issue was. They feared an extreme diabetic shock as her blood sugar was measuring something like 280. Terrified doesn't come close to the feeling I had. Fortunately, isolation was just a few hours and after that we got to spend the first couple of nights in PICU. Intensive care is hard when you're an adult (spend a few days there when I was 23), but it's even harder to see your baby there. We spent a total of a week there, with trips back to Dover to check up on my son, who was staying with family so we could stay with baby girl. She eventually shook whatever she had and started taking fluids again, and eventually soft foods. Finally, we got to take home our happy little girl. But you want to talk about some scared as heck parents...
ReplyDeleteThis will be something that you grow from. I know this because I've been there, if to a smaller degree. You'll come out stronger. I did. I learned that I can face just about anything. I hope that one day in several years, both of you will look back and recognize the growth - both your individual personal growth as well as your growth as a couple. This is definitely a bonding experience. It's a unique experience that only the two of you will share. Naturally, it's not an experience anyone wanted for you to have, but life is like that sometimes. But you will grow. You will be stronger. And hopefully you'll also be able to learn that you can do just about anything if you really have to. I know I did.
From one parent to another, much love and Godspeed. You're definitely doing parenting right. Love that little girl and watch her grow. She is a miracle, indeed.