David's original due date was right around November 20th. When the doctors found out I had a placenta accreta and a full placenta previa a c-section date was set for October 15th. David would be 35 weeks at that point. He would not be considered full-term but also not a full blown preemie. Babies born at 35 weeks did fairly well, usually didn't have to spend time in the NICU and if they did it was very short term. Lung development was their concern so I was given steroids at 27 weeks pregnant; when I was admitted to the hospital. I was also given magnesium sulfate, not because I had high blood pressure but because studies had shown that the magnesium was good for brain health and development especially in preemie's. I endured 24 hours of that shit, being confined to the bed, with a catheter, feeling so hot I thought I might explode and a headache of such massive proportions that only Dilaudid took it away.
It only seems fitting that David left the hospital on the day that he was supposed to be born, October 15th. The doctor's in the NICU stay very hush, hush about when your baby might go home. They don't like to get parent's hopes up only to be dashed when their son or daughter had a backslide. Their were whispers of David going home on Friday at the beginning of the week. I was so excited I could hardly stand it. One night after getting the two older boys in bed I called the NICU to see how David was doing. His nurse gave me the the usual, how many ounces he ate, how much he weighed at the evening weigh in, his temp. the temperature of the incubator and any important information from the neonatologist. She commented on how cute he was and how good of an eater he was! The phone conversation lasted for less than five minutes. I hung up the phone, collapsed to the floor in my bedroom and sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. I could not take it one more day. I wanted my baby home. I didn't want to call and get updates on how my child; my flesh and blood was doing. I wanted to check on him in his crib, be there for all his feedings and change every diaper...even the blow-outs! Greg found me on the floor of the bedroom crying uncontrollably. After telling Greg what was wrong through the tears and the sobbing he got me into bed. "Tomorrow is another day. Maybe tomorrow we will get good news." I was in the third week since David had been born. The only way I was able to drive back and forth to the hospital was to not take the percocet (doctor's orders). I was using Motrin to control the pain. I was feeling better but was no where near healed. Somehow I was getting through the day and by the evening I was in a tremendous amount of pain. My meltdown that night was wanting my family whole, exhaustion and for the damn pain to end.
The next day before I left for the hospital I got a phone call from the NICU. They wanted me to bring David's car seat. "YES! YES! YES!" I screamed once getting off the phone. The car seat test was one step closer to him coming home. By state law all preemie's have to keep a stable pulse/ox for one hour while strapped in their car seat before being allowed to go home. We were getting close. I could taste the sweet taste of freedom. David was taking all his feeds from either the bottle or the breast. There was no more IV that delivered fluids and nutrition, no more nasal cannula for oxygen, the feeding tube was gone and he passed the car seat test!! The only thing that was left on was the pulse/ox monitor. On Thursday afternoon I got the news I had been waiting for, for what seemed like forever, "Tomorrow David will go home." I said goodbye to David that day for the last time in the NICU we were going to be a whole family.
I got home that evening, packed the diaper bag and packed the special "going home" outfit that was bought by grandma. It was baby blue velor zipped hoodie with dark gray trim and dark gray inside the hood and a small train embroidered on the front. The pants also were baby blue velor with dark gray trim around the bottom. Greg had arranged to take the day off from work to go with me. Everything was set.
When we arrived at the NICU David was in a bassinet, not the incubator! He was in a bassinet, the ones that babies go in when you have a full term baby. The kind that Jonah and Caleb were in when they were born. I had seen so many babies in the NICU in a bassinet before and knew it was their time to go home. Seeing David in the bassinet was overwhelming. There were no wires, or tubes or beeping monitors just my baby swaddled in his bassinet. It was time. It was time to go home. I scooped him up, held him close and then got out the "going home" outfit. The photographer was coming up to take pictures and my baby was going to look cute and sweet.
David slept through all the pictures but everyone of them turned out precious. We were given going home instructions from the nurse in his care and then we strapped him in his car seat to go home. One of the nurses from the unit walked down to the entrance with us. He stayed with me while Greg went and got the car. We chatted a little but all I kept thinking was, "Good-bye gold elevators. Good bye food court, good-bye horrible memories."
Greg pulled up in our blue Ford, he snapped in the car seat, we said our good-byes to the nurse and just like that we were leaving the hospital that had been a part of our lives for the last 8 weeks. I looked back at David in the backseat, looked up at the hospital towering above and thanked God that I was leaving that place for what I hoped was a very long time. I didn't look back. The nightmare was over. I was safe. David was safe and we were going home! I only wanted to look forward. I was excited about having David at the bus stop to greet his brothers and our neighbors. I was excited about being home even if it meant that things would be really crazy. I was excited about most everything. There was not one ounce of fear in me. I was happy for the first time in a very long time.
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