Now that Charlotte has officially hit 6 months, it feels like the right time to fill you all in on our NICU adventures (or maybe I just never got around to writing this post because life has been crazy since Charlotte’s arrival…but we’ll pretend that it’s all about timing).

I left off in my birth story that JR, Charlotte and I were all snuggled up in the labor and delivery room.  Everything felt right in the world and I was soaking in every moment…because this is not how things went when Lizzie was born.

For those that don’t remember, a couple hours after Lizzie’s birth, she was taken to the nursery for observation due to breathing issues.  Soon after, she was moved to the NICU for a week, never spending more than those first few precious hours in the same room as JR and me.  I remember laying there in the wee hours of the morning on February 9 – still in the delivery room because a recovery room wasn’t ready yet – contemplating the craziness of the precipitous labor and deliver I’d just had.  I could almost still feel Lizzie’s moving around in my belly, and yet I didn’t even know which wing of the hospital maze my newborn was now in.  It was the most lonely and helpless I’ve ever felt.

I was NOT going to repeat this moment with Charlotte – that I was sure of!  Things were going great – I was going to have the full “new baby” experience…proud parents settled nicely in the recovery room, sweet newborn sleeping peacefully in plexiglass cradle next to bed.  It was going to happen.  Except it wasn’t.

Around 7:30 am on April 27, JR, Charlotte and I were heading to our new room where we’d spend the next two days.  On the way, the nurse told us we would need to drop Charlotte off at the nursery so the nurses could do their routine assessment.  She’d be back in just a few mins – not to worry!

30 minutes passed, an hour…  Soon, there was knock on our door and a nurse came in – the nurse from the nursery.  She told us she was concerned because Charlotte’s oxygenation levels seemed to fall a few times when she was assessed, indicating a breathing issue.  Please God, not again!  I told myself that it’s probably nothing and she’d be back with us in our room soon.  We went to the nursery and the nurse said I could try to feed her.  Under the nurse’s watchful eye, Charlotte again took to the breast with no problem.  She seemed strong and her color didn’t change.  Still, the pediatrician would need to check her out before they could release her to our room.

I didn’t want to leave Charlotte, but I’d been awake for more than 24 hours.  Some breakfast and a nap were in order.  We went back to our room, hopeful that Charlotte would join us soon.

Knock, knock…a hour or so later, in walked two nurses and the pediatrician to our room, all brows knitted with worry.  They broke the news to us – Charlotte’s oxygen levels had fallen a few more times.  She’s going to the NICU for more observation.

In that moment, I was transported back to 2013.  Was this really happening again?  Both of my babies were going to spend time in the NICU for the same issue?  I guess it’s a Stawarz-Hefferan baby thing.

It was a surreal moment, and although I totally understand logically that the hospital was doing the right and safe thing, it still made me feel so alone and helpless.  Also, why did Charlotte not exhibit any of these signs when she was in my arms?  The mother-baby connection is so powerful.  In fact, skin-to-skin time after birth is so important as it helps regulate the baby’s body temperature and breathing.  I couldn’t help but think part of the problem was that Charlotte was away from me and needed my comfort while she was being poked and prodded by strangers during her assessment.  If I had insisted on staying with her, would her oxygen levels have ever dipped?

Fast forward to later that day when JR and I next saw Charlotte in the NICU.  Since she was presenting with sporadic breathing issues, she was placed in the highest level of NICU care – which is pretty darn scary.  Charlotte’s NICU pod included three other babies – all of which couldn’t have been more than 4 lbs. each.  Charlotte, weighing almost twice that of her new roomies, looked gigantic in their company.  These newborns were obviously dealing with much scarier scenarios.  And, the constant alarms sounding off in the pod did nothing to dispel the feeling of anxiety and concern.

For the next three days, JR and I found ourselves in the black hole of the level 3 NICU, battling stingy nurses that would prefer I not hold my baby, lugging pumped breastmilk back and forth from my recovery room every two to three hours, and trying to track down the NICU pediatrician for the latest update.  Oh yeah – and I had just given birth!  In the maternity ward, I was expected to be in my room for periodic check-ups by the nurses and OB-GYN.

This was not a relaxing start to motherhood, and even though it felt familiar, it didn’t make it any easier the second time around.  I felt like I had PTSD from my first NICU go round, and this time I had the added guilt that I was neglecting my oldest child.  Thankfully, I knew she was in excellent hands with my parents.  This was an early lesson in prioritization, and right now Charlotte needed me the most – although it still hurt that I couldn’t be with Lizzie.

The day after Charlotte was born, Lizzie came to the hospital to see us and meet her new baby sister.  The hospital connected us with a childlife specialist who came to our room and talked to Lizzie about her sister being in the NICU.  She brought a special doll that had wires and such connected to it, just like her sis.  Winnie Palmer definitely deserves props for this service. I really think it helped prime Lizzie for her visit to the NICU.  She was delighted by Charlotte and her face lit up with a smile instantly when she met her.  How could she know that this isn’t the way most big sisters or brothers meet the new baby?

After a few days of constant monitoring, lots of testing (brain MRI, EKG, echocardiogram, and more) and very few drops in Charlotte’s oxygen levels, the NICU pediatrician decided she could be moved to a lower-level NICU pod.  This was a relief.  This pod was much quieter because the babies were much less sick.  Charlotte was still one of the largest, but there weren’t constant alarms and she only shared a room with one other baby.  Also, the NICU nurses here were less like drill sergeants and seemed to have more sympathy for the parent’s plight too.  The best news of all…I could hold Charlotte more often and try to breastfeed again (versus feeding her pumped milk through a feeding tube).

By this time, JR and I had to move out of the maternity ward and had secured a room at the Hubbard House.  It’s a home away from home for those that need to be near the hospital for family.  It was a wonderful resource as it allowed us to be a five minute walk away from Winnie Palmer so we could spend most of the day with Charlotte, yet still have a place to rest our head at night.

Six more loooooooong days passed with lots of ups and downs.  We met with several NICU nurses and pediatricians during this time about Charlotte’s breathing issue and,  ultimately, it was chalked up to her brain and body figuring out how to coordinate her breathing when excited and during feedings.  This is more common in premature infants, but sometimes happens in term babies too.  It took Charlotte a few extra days to work it out, but once she did, there was never a problem again.  The majority of time we spent in the NICU was really a precaution.

During our NICU stay, we were so fortunate to have a lot of good friends and family visit us, including Aunt Lu & Uncle Gene, Gina and Brad, Melissa, James and Jack, Tricia, and Angela (who also works at Winnie Palmer).  All of these visits meant so much to us, and helped keep us energized through the long days and nights in the NICU with Charlotte.

My parents and Lizzie also visited several more times, as well as my sister.  Just three days after Charlotte was born, Kerry flew down to meet her.  Of course, we weren’t expecting the bulk of that visit to be at the hospital, but my sis didn’t mind.  She was just so excited to meet her newest niece.  For me, this visit was priceless.  Spending precious time with Kerry took my mind off my frustration and anxiety over the situation.  I felt so supported and loved by her presence – it meant the world to me that she was able to come down and support me through this tough time.  Love you sissy! 🙂

Finally on Friday, May 6, we were told that we could take our baby home (albeit with a pulse ox monitor)!  After all of the rules and restrictions of the NICU, discharging Charlotte was surprisingly fast and efficient.  We left Winnie Palmer around 4 pm and arrived home 30 minutes later.

That first night back Lizzie stayed at my parent’s so JR and I could get better acquainted with Charlotte at home.  It was wonderful to be home with our new baby.

Fast forward six months later and I still shudder at the thought of our NICU experience.  It was utterly exhausting – both physically and emotionally.  It was also heart-wrenching as a mother not to be able to hold my baby whenever I wanted or feed her at will.  However, at the same time, I know we were lucky.  Charlotte spent a little over a week in the NICU, but many babies spend weeks and months.  Some never make it home.

Thinking about that, I know we had it pretty easy after all.  And, if nothing else, the NICU experience taught us to appreciate every snuggle, ever hug and kiss, and every precious moment with our baby girl.  This was just the memorable beginning to our journey together as a family of four! 🙂