Bad Day
Well, I didn't get to go to the hospital last night. I was still feeling really crappy when JJ came home and he put the skid on that. He said that if I don't take care of myself too, that I won't be any good to her. We both had bad days yesterday, seems. I called to check on her three times. She lost almost an ounce, and she's not doing so hot on her feedings. She spit up three feedings in a row. Now, I realize that babies spit up. I'm trying not to let this bother me. But up to yesterday she *hadn't* been spitting up. Part of me is tempted to believe that it's because she was on formula for those feedings instead of my milk because the hospital RAN OUT of milk. I have a TON to bring to her tonight, and hopefully this will do better. She's also not quite taking in as much during her feedings as she should with the bottle, because she's spilling alot of it. It could be any number of things from gas to anemia. It could be as simple as the hospital is trying to push her too hard and she's just not quite physically able to take the bottle yet. Her doctor ordered them to give her only a set amount of time to take the bottle, and whatever doesn't go in in that time gets fed through the galvan (tube). He's ordered a blood test this morning because of the spitting up to rule out anemia. But this is just to be sure, not because he believes it to be true. Just preventative. She hasn't shown any other signs of anemia before this. I know I had anemia as a child. *frown* I just don't understand how she can take so well to the breast. No dribbles, no spills, (of course, she's gotta be wide awake for it to work..the 10 pm feedings don't work for breastfeeding, she's so sleepy she just lolls around and doesn't accomplish anything). But with the bottles, she spits it back out. Even if it's breast milk, she spits it. Looks like I got a little boobie monster who's stuck in the NICU without the boobie.
I keep fighting with myself. I keep trying to blame myself for her being there. Maybe if I'd done _______ or hadn't done _______ she'd be ok, and things would be different. I keep thinking that if only I could just BE there next to her bed, she'd be better faster. Not going last night was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I have been trying so hard that I am running myself until I just can't go anymore. I stay on my feet until I collapse, pushing myself because I want to be up there, next to her, watching her, pushing her. I made myself sick. I was actually running a low grade fever last night. It's like I'm possessed though. I've always been a slow healer. Always. It takes me days or weeks longer to recover from something the average person recovers quickly from. I don't understand this drive though. Every moment that I'm feeling well and up, I'm centered on her. I *want* to be there. I wish I had a little apartment up there next to her bed. Just move my little cubbie on the couch up there to the hospital next to her isolette. Then I could be there, holding her little hand once every hour because that's all she's allowed to be touched except for feedings. But maybe that once every hour would help her come home sooner. Maybe that once every hour would be what it takes to put on that extra 8 ounces that she needs to be "acceptable weight". Maybe that once every hour would encourage her body to regulate it's own temperature, and maybe being there to breastfeed every damn feeding would keep her from spitting back what they give her.
Why do I feel like my own damn body betrayed me?? My body didn't allow her to grow like it should have. In fact, my body put the squeeze on her and stopped her growth altogether. Why??? Why??? Why couldn't my body do what it was supposed to and grow a baby like it should??? I try so hard not to blame myself, but I don't succeed.
I keep fighting with myself. I keep trying to blame myself for her being there. Maybe if I'd done _______ or hadn't done _______ she'd be ok, and things would be different. I keep thinking that if only I could just BE there next to her bed, she'd be better faster. Not going last night was quite possibly the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. I have been trying so hard that I am running myself until I just can't go anymore. I stay on my feet until I collapse, pushing myself because I want to be up there, next to her, watching her, pushing her. I made myself sick. I was actually running a low grade fever last night. It's like I'm possessed though. I've always been a slow healer. Always. It takes me days or weeks longer to recover from something the average person recovers quickly from. I don't understand this drive though. Every moment that I'm feeling well and up, I'm centered on her. I *want* to be there. I wish I had a little apartment up there next to her bed. Just move my little cubbie on the couch up there to the hospital next to her isolette. Then I could be there, holding her little hand once every hour because that's all she's allowed to be touched except for feedings. But maybe that once every hour would help her come home sooner. Maybe that once every hour would be what it takes to put on that extra 8 ounces that she needs to be "acceptable weight". Maybe that once every hour would encourage her body to regulate it's own temperature, and maybe being there to breastfeed every damn feeding would keep her from spitting back what they give her.
Why do I feel like my own damn body betrayed me?? My body didn't allow her to grow like it should have. In fact, my body put the squeeze on her and stopped her growth altogether. Why??? Why??? Why couldn't my body do what it was supposed to and grow a baby like it should??? I try so hard not to blame myself, but I don't succeed.