One Day Old

I wasn't able to see Charly again until after midnight on Sunday. The spinal block in the OR took over 12 hours to wear off. It was hard being stuck in a hospital bed - sore, tired, scared, and in shock over what had just happened with her delivery.

That Monday morning we were asked if we wanted to "withdraw support". What a scary question. At work I educate patients on discharge planning options. One of those options is withdrawal, hospice, or long term care - but...I am talking to patients or families of people that are really, really old (and I mean old...some of them are in their late 90's and have lived long, full lives). I was shocked that our little baby was only one day old and we were already being asked if we wanted to take her of the ventilator.

Our response was of course we don't want to withdraw. We felt her spirit so strong and knew that she was fighting for her own life. Charly technically should have never made it in the beginning. Doctors told us that she was really only 23 weeks old, and not the 25 weeks we were all thinking. It's a HUGE difference in the viability rates. But, our little Charly did get resuscitated, she was a living, breathing little baby. She was fighting, and until we knew better or felt different...there is no way I was taking my little baby off that ventilator.

When I saw her after noon on Monday she was very bruised. Her head looked black. Her little ribs were scratched and skin had torn where they had done CPR. She was so tiny. I couldn't believe it.

John took a picture and sent it to his brother Boyd (where Jaxon was now staying). Boyd showed the picture to Jaxon, and he evidently said, "Sweet! We get a black baby!" What a funny kid.