I woke up at 3am and forgot for a moment where I was and why I was there. Before I remembered how much pain I was in I coughed, and I think it nearly killed me. I tried to reach the call button but it was on the other side of the bed. I had to slowly shuffle myself to the edge of the bed and then even more slowly get up so that I could call a nurse for more drugs.
I waddled in to the bathroom, and then the nurse arrived. She gave me codine and oxycotin, and I managed to get back in bed.
Sleep was out of the question, I just wanted to get down and see Ellie. I made myself wait until 5am, and then started shuffling down the halls. I didn't want to use the wheelchair, because that would have meant waiting for a nurse.
I was buzzed in to the NICU and the lady behind the desk asked if I knew where to go. I thought I did, and I headed through a doorway on the right. I walked in to a room I'd never seen before. I turned back around and found the right room.
There was my little angel, sleeping peacefully in her morphine induced coma. She looked the same as she had the night before. The nurse assigned to her said it was OK to reach in and touch her, so I just sat there and held her hand.
I left at 7am and headed back to my room. I was in pain again and needed more meds, plus I hadn't eaten anything since the sandwiches on the trip down and was getting hungry. The nurse promised Ellie would be fine and said the paediatrician would do rounds at about 9am so to come back then if I liked.
Back in my room I called Drew and had him bring some coffee and food. No meals had been brought in for me since I arrived, actually I hadn't even seen a nurse unless I buzzed for someone. I was feeling very forgotten about in there.
When Drew arrived he buzzed for a nurse and asked what was going on about my meals. I was promised they would arrive at 9am, 12pm and 5pm. I knew I wouldn't be around for them though so I didn't really care.
We went back to Ellie at 8.30am and waited for the paediatrician. It was the same one from the day before, and she was happy to sit with us and explain everything so that we understood what Ellie had in front of her.
She had taken her off the morphine that morning, and already Ellie was fighting the intubation and trying to breathe over it. The paediatrician explained that it was a great sign, but she needed a chest xray done before they could remove the tube, just in case.
It was going to be a big day of tests for Ellie. As well as the xray she needed to have ultrasounds done on her brain and heart, to check if the lack of blood and oxygen had done any lasting damage. She also needed a scan on her kidneys as her kidney function tests had come back low. It was unsure if that was because there was a problem, or just a reaction to the morphine and antibiotics.
Her latest round of blood tests showed her haemaglobins rising ever so slowly, but there was still a chance she would need another transfusion. There was also an infection detected in her bloodwork, and they had started her on an extra course of antibiotics.
We sat with her for a couple of hours, but eventually my pain was out of control again and we had to leave. I decided it would be more sensible to break my time up in to shifts - two hours with Ellie, two hours resting, repeat. I didn't want to exhust myself and be stuck in a bed and away from her.
I went back in after lunch. I think Drew had gone with Levi back to Ronald Mcdonald to have a rest. I was sitting with her when suddenly it seemed she was surrounded by nurses. Her IV in her hand had blown and been pumping glucose under her skin for god knows how long.
The paediatrician and a plastic surgeon were called in, and they managed to massage most of the glucose out of her hand. She was left with a massive bruise and a hole on her hand, and the surgeon said it would be a while before they knew if it did any damage.
Because of the tube down her throat she wasn't able to cry or anything, but I could see she was in a lot of pain. It felt so unfair that she had to keep going through all of this, and I had to get out of there for a bit.
When I went back the paediatrican was there again with the preliminary results from all of her tests. She hadn't recieved the official reports yet, but the verbal verdict was that her brain, heart and kidneys were all fine. Her lungs though were still sticky with mecconium, so the tube would have to stay in for now.
I was disapointed. I'd been hoping we'd get the all clear on her lungs so that I could finally hold her. Having a baby that was two days old who I'd never held was like the worst form of tourture imaginable.
The paediatrican said we would see how things were in the morning, but the best thing I could do for now was to get some rest. I headed back to my room and settled in for another restless night.
I made a stupid decision in bed that night to do some googling about the fetomaternal haemorrage. What I read made me so glad that we had gone in when we did. It was true, Ellie shouldn't have survived with such a serious bleed. She truely was a miricle. I cried myself to sleep.
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