their own.
At least, so far they were breathing on their own. The girls might need some help from a CPAP machine, which wasn’t as invasive as a breathing tube and ventilator, if they didn’t maintain regular breathing patterns, keeping an acceptable level of oxygen in the blood.
Renee had explained the concerns about intermittent apnea, a common phenomenon with preemies. They could breathe on their own, but it was almost as if they exerted so much energy to do the work they got tired out and stopped breathing for a few seconds.
So the baby girls would need to be on the heart and apnea monitors for a while, not to mention kept warm since their tiny brains weren’t fully developed yet to keep their temperatures stable. Hence the pictures, since Alyssa couldn’t have the babies housed in her room.
She was relieved they were doing so well.
Yet she didn’t want to look at pictures, she wanted to hold her daughters, touch them. Cuddle them.
Was Jadon in the neonatal nursery with them now? She was fairly certain he was. She bit her lip, anxiety creeping back into her chest. He’d been so wonderful through all this, taken on the role of being her birthing coach without making her feel guilty.
Her baby girls were seven weeks early. What wouldshe do once they were big enough to come home? She knew she shouldn’t just plan on going back to Jadon’s house but if she didn’t, how would she manage to nurse them both while still managing to get some rest?
Was Jadon’s invitation to stay with him still open? She didn’t want her babies to suffer in any way. What if after a few weeks of no sleep he changed his mind?
Stop looking for trouble, she warned herself. Take it slowly, one day at a time, and the future would sort itself out when it was ready.
Sage advice. Now, if only she could heed it.
She swung her legs out of the bed and stood, feeling only a slight twinge of discomfort after her delivery. Reaching for a robe, she put it on, then walked out into the hallway to get directions to the neonatal intensive care unit.
“Right here,” Amanda, a helpful nurse, informed her. “We actually don’t call them neonatal ICUs any more, we call it a level-three nursery. But it’s right next to the level-two and level-one nurseries. As your babies progress, they’ll move down to the less acute area.”
“Good to know,” Alyssa admitted. Neonatal was not her area of expertise.
In the level-three nursery, most of the babies lying in their isolettes looked extremely tiny. She was somewhat relieved to realize her daughters were the largest babies in the group.
She stood in front of their isolettes, surprised to note Jadon wasn’t there. One nurse approached with a warm smile.
“Hi, my name is Carla. I’m the second-shift nurse taking care of Grace and Gretchen.”
“Hello, I’m Alyssa, the proud mother of these two. Oh, look, Gretch is waking up,” she said, leaning over when Gretchen began to stir.
“She is waking up. It’s about time as she’s been sleeping quite a bit. What a wonderful early Christmas present you have, hmm?”
Alyssa smiled weakly. “A better Christmas present would be to have them home with me.”
“True, but if they grow nicely and don’t run into trouble, that is a distinct possibility. Now, would you like to hold them? Both at once or one at a time?”
“Maybe just Gretchen, since she’s awake.” Alyssa figured she’d need to learn how to manage both babies at the same time eventually, but for now she thought easing into the process of learning about her daughters might be the better approach.
“Okay. Both girls have apnea monitors on, so we can watch their heart rates and breathing. I’ll fetch a warm blanket.” Carla hurried off, returning with a warm fuzzy pink blanket.
She opened the isolette and competently lifted Gretchen with one hand, taking care not to disturb the wires connecting the patches to the infant’s chest or the tiny IV as she slid the warm blanket
At least, so far they were breathing on their own. The girls might need some help from a CPAP machine, which wasn’t as invasive as a breathing tube and ventilator, if they didn’t maintain regular breathing patterns, keeping an acceptable level of oxygen in the blood.
Renee had explained the concerns about intermittent apnea, a common phenomenon with preemies. They could breathe on their own, but it was almost as if they exerted so much energy to do the work they got tired out and stopped breathing for a few seconds.
So the baby girls would need to be on the heart and apnea monitors for a while, not to mention kept warm since their tiny brains weren’t fully developed yet to keep their temperatures stable. Hence the pictures, since Alyssa couldn’t have the babies housed in her room.
She was relieved they were doing so well.
Yet she didn’t want to look at pictures, she wanted to hold her daughters, touch them. Cuddle them.
Was Jadon in the neonatal nursery with them now? She was fairly certain he was. She bit her lip, anxiety creeping back into her chest. He’d been so wonderful through all this, taken on the role of being her birthing coach without making her feel guilty.
Her baby girls were seven weeks early. What wouldshe do once they were big enough to come home? She knew she shouldn’t just plan on going back to Jadon’s house but if she didn’t, how would she manage to nurse them both while still managing to get some rest?
Was Jadon’s invitation to stay with him still open? She didn’t want her babies to suffer in any way. What if after a few weeks of no sleep he changed his mind?
Stop looking for trouble, she warned herself. Take it slowly, one day at a time, and the future would sort itself out when it was ready.
Sage advice. Now, if only she could heed it.
She swung her legs out of the bed and stood, feeling only a slight twinge of discomfort after her delivery. Reaching for a robe, she put it on, then walked out into the hallway to get directions to the neonatal intensive care unit.
“Right here,” Amanda, a helpful nurse, informed her. “We actually don’t call them neonatal ICUs any more, we call it a level-three nursery. But it’s right next to the level-two and level-one nurseries. As your babies progress, they’ll move down to the less acute area.”
“Good to know,” Alyssa admitted. Neonatal was not her area of expertise.
In the level-three nursery, most of the babies lying in their isolettes looked extremely tiny. She was somewhat relieved to realize her daughters were the largest babies in the group.
She stood in front of their isolettes, surprised to note Jadon wasn’t there. One nurse approached with a warm smile.
“Hi, my name is Carla. I’m the second-shift nurse taking care of Grace and Gretchen.”
“Hello, I’m Alyssa, the proud mother of these two. Oh, look, Gretch is waking up,” she said, leaning over when Gretchen began to stir.
“She is waking up. It’s about time as she’s been sleeping quite a bit. What a wonderful early Christmas present you have, hmm?”
Alyssa smiled weakly. “A better Christmas present would be to have them home with me.”
“True, but if they grow nicely and don’t run into trouble, that is a distinct possibility. Now, would you like to hold them? Both at once or one at a time?”
“Maybe just Gretchen, since she’s awake.” Alyssa figured she’d need to learn how to manage both babies at the same time eventually, but for now she thought easing into the process of learning about her daughters might be the better approach.
“Okay. Both girls have apnea monitors on, so we can watch their heart rates and breathing. I’ll fetch a warm blanket.” Carla hurried off, returning with a warm fuzzy pink blanket.
She opened the isolette and competently lifted Gretchen with one hand, taking care not to disturb the wires connecting the patches to the infant’s chest or the tiny IV as she slid the warm blanket
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