So...although sweet Ellis was a term baby, his lungs decided to act premature. They just couldn't quite keep his tiny body oxygenated enough. On his first night, we sent him to the nursery to get a short stint of sleep, after which he came back to nurse and cuddle. About an hour later, I decided to let the nurse take him to the nursery one more time, and while she was transporting him she thought his color looked off. She called another nurse, they tested him, and rather than being in the 90s, his oxygenation rate was in the 50s. Not good. I am so grateful that I called that nurse. So grateful that he wasn't in our room, in the dark, with parents not trained to notice distress signs. So grateful that someone realized he needed help.
We initially thought it would be a couple of days, but Ellis needed a little more help than predicted. Tomorrow, after a long week of balancing our big kids' needs with sweet baby boy, we are scheduled to get to bring him home. I know that in the grand scheme of life, a week is nothing, but it has been a hard one. Three-year-olds need their parents. One-year-olds need their parents. NICU babies need their parents. And we couldn't be more excited to get them all under one roof where they can all have access to both mom & dad. Prayers that tonight goes well and Ellis joins the chaos tomorrow.
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| even with a cannula and feeding tube, this face is just too precious |
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