The bad day

Again catching up from 6 months ago....I suck at blogging!

Mariah and I were released from the hospital on Friday, but due to our blood type issue we had to take her in to the clinic for a re-test on Sunday. We packed her up for her first big adventure and off we went! The nurse needed to get a blood sample from Mariah's foot and it was like trying to get water from a stone - the poor baby was so dehydrated and I had no idea. She screamed and screamed while the nurse squeezed for what seemed like forever to get enough blood to test.  The doctor came back about 10 minutes later and I knew right away it was bad news.  The scale they use goes to 25 - that is considered critical and in very real danger of permanent brain damage.  Mariah's result was 24.4  They expect a newborn to lose 5-10% of their birth weight in the first few days.  Mariah was down almost 20% at just 4 days old.

The doctor told us we had to go to Primary Children's immediately and that they would call to tell them we were on our way.  I lost it and sobbed while the poor doctor tried to tell me it was going to be okay, but that we needed to go right now.  Luckily we still had my bags packed from the delivery, so I called my parents and we headed up to Primary's.

We checked in through the ER and our nurse was so wonderful.  She had to put an IV in Mariah's tiny hand and I was a nervous wreck, but so thankful that there are people who can do what needs to be done and help my little baby.  They got her on some fluids and re-tested her blood.  They told us she would be admitted for sure.  Around this time, my milk came in and I was walking around with two bricks on my chest.  They were massive!  And painful!  I was too stressed out to try and nurse, so they brought me in a pump.  I wish I had a picture of the look on Clint's face when they wheeled (yes, wheeled) that thing in.  It looked like a meat grinder, but it got the job done!

We were moved to Mariah's room and called my parents to let them know they could come up to the hospital.  It was so scary to see my baby connected to all those wires and not being able to hold her - she needed to stay under the lights and heat lamp so we could only take her out every 3 hours for long enough to feed her and put her back.  I couldn't believe we were those stressed out new parents with a sick baby at the hospital you only go to when things are really bad.  It was like I was watching it happen through a fog - it was surreal.

The next day we were able to meet with a Lactation Consultant.  I learned more from her than from any of the 87 doctors we saw while we were there.  Mariah was not an efficient eater (my child?!  impossible!) and her stomach had not grown from when she was a day old.  Because she wasn't eating enough, she wasn't breaking down enough bilirubin and wasn't gaining any weight.  The LC taught us how to force feed her (a two person job) so that we could get her caught up and eating enough.  I am so thankful she was there to help us.  By Monday afternoon, Mariah's numbers were down to 12 and falling so we were released (again).

It was so horrible to have my baby back in the hospital, but I am so grateful for the nurses and doctors who helped my baby and were so good to me as well.

Daddy's last snuggle before she went under the lights again

Poor Clint's eyes couldn't take the fluorescent bili lights - they were intense!