A glimpse at life in the NICU

Many might think that having a baby in the NICU for over 2 weeks would be difficult. But, when you don't know any better, it just seems normal. When Quinn first arrived in the NICU, he was in an open crib. He was unable to stay warm enough, though, and was placed in an isolette (basically an incubator). He had an IV and was receiving fluids through it. He had a monitor to make sure he was getting enough oxygen. He had a heart rate and breathing monitor as well. The nurse checked his blood pressure (with the cutest little blood pressure cuff) several times a day. Every three hours, his temperature was taken, diaper changed, and he was fed during his "care time." He was able to come out of the isolette only during care time.

After the first day, he was able to come off the oxygen monitor because he was breathing so well. After three days, he was able to shed his IV. He had a bit of trouble gaining weight at first, and he was close to having a tube inserted in his nose to feed him, but he quickly improved his eating ability, and we avoided the tube. He did so well after the first few days, we thought he might get to come home after a week in the NICU. However, he had two bouts of jaundice that first week which required phototherapy to treat.

While on the phototherapy, he was unable to be weaned from the isolette. Because he had to be stripped down to the diaper for phototherapy (in the isolette he wore regular clothes and was swaddled in a blanket) he had a temperature probe on him, and the isolette would automatically adjust to his temperature. So, if he was too warm, the isolette would automatically decrease in temperature, and if he was too cold, the isolette would increase in temperature.

When not on phototherapy, the isolette was set at a specific temperature. When Quinn's temperature was taken every three hours, if it was greater than 98.5 degrees Farenheit, he was able to decrease the temperature on the isolette by 0.3 to 0.5 degrees Celsius. The goal was to get down to 27 degrees on the isolette (81 degrees F) in order for him to come out to an open crib. After each bout of phototherapy, it was back to square one for the temperature weaning process.

The nurses encouraged hubby and I to participate in Quinn's care. At first, this was a bit of a daunting task, because he seemed so small and fragile, and it was difficult to care for him through the portals of the isolette. But with practice, we became comfortable. I generally arrived at the hospital between 8 and 9, and stayed until 10 or 11 at night. I would pump breastmilk for Quinn to have while I was away at night. His care time took anywhere between an hour to an hour and a half, and then I would either rest or go to the cafeteria to eat (food was not allowed in the NICU). Hubby went back to work so that he could be home when Quinn came home, and he would come visit us after work. I cherished those visits, and visits from friends and other family, as being in the hospital all day was rather lonely.

The NICU was behind a locked door, accessible by ringing a doorbell. Quinn also wore a "Hugs tag," which would have sounded all kinds of alarms if we-or anyone else--had tried to smuggle him out of the NICU. We had to sign in and wear a visitor's tag, then "scrub up" by first washing our hands, then applying hand sanitizer prior to entering the NICU. Each day between 1 and 2:30 AM and PM, they had "developmental time," where they dimmed the lights, and asked everyone to speak in soft voices so the babies could have a quiet time in order to help them grow. We did transfer to the step down unit after about a week, which was much the same procedure, except we didn't have to sign in and out.

The hardest day was Thanksgiving, because I left the hospital during the day to have a wonderful dinner prepared by my awesome brother. Eating this delicious meal was of course not the hard part--it was leaving Quinn at the hospital while the rest of our family was together. I know Quinn didn't know better, but I felt bad that he was all alone.

Everyone at the hospital was so kind and compassionate: from the nurses, to the custodians, to those who delivered meals to patients. It was so helpful to have that support during a stressful and lonely time.

Quinn finally came home after 15 days in the NICU. It is so good to have him home!

Phototherapy

The NICU team working on him right after birth

All his tubes and wires

In the isolette

One month check up

Quinn went to the doctor on Monday for his one month appointment. He weighed 5 lbs, 12.5 oz, and was 18.5" long. He gained over 1 lb in two weeks! The doctor was also pleased that he is looking less jaundiced.

Grandma and Grandpa have come to visit!

Our Story Part 2

My husband likes to say, "Tuesday morning was just a regular morning. Then our lives suddenly changed." He was referring to Tuesday, November 15, 2011. I was just shy of 33 weeks pregnant. I had been having what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions for over a week, so I decided to go to the doctor (at the urging of my coworkers) to get checked out, even though the contractions were not regular or painful. In fact, I had mentioned the contractions at my regular appointment the week before, and the midwife said that as long as the contractions were not coming at regular intervals, it was fine.

My appointment on November 15 was at 2:45 PM, so after working in the morning, I cancelled an afternoon meeting and went to see the doctor. I was half expecting the doctor would put me on bed rest, and tried to mentally prepare for that possibility. But how do you mentally prepare for being told, "I don't know what to make of this, but you're 7 cm dilated. We need to send you to labor and delivery." So off I went by wheelchair, flanked by 3 nurses from the doctor's office, to the hospital across the street.

I called my husband to meet me at the hospital, neither of us really knowing yet that the baby was coming soon. I thought maybe I could just stay 7 cm dilated for a long while, but they later told me otherwise. On my wheelchair ride over to the hospital, I tried to figure out how to send text messages from my husband's phone, which I was using since my dying cat had lost her bladder on my phone just a few days before. This proved to be a difficult task, but I did manage to get the word out to some friends and family to inform them what was happening.

I arrived at the hospital by 3:15, and the nurses were in awe that I was 7cm dilated and still smiling. Their goal was to try to keep me pregnant as long as possible, particularly to get 2 injections of steroids (12 hours apart) on board to help Quinn's lungs mature. They wanted the second injection to be in me for at least 12 hours as well, so we hoped that I could stay pregnant for at least 24 hours.

The other issue was that the hospital's NICU was full, and there was a possibility that Quinn would have to be transported to another hospital after he was born, while I had to stay put. They thought I was too far along to transport while pregnant, but they entertained the idea until Quinn's heart rate dropped momentarily. That was the end of that plan.

I started having a little bit of pain with the contractions a few hours after I got to the hospital. They gave me magnesium sulfate to help slow/decrease the contractions. The nurses and the doctor said that this medication would make me feel absolutely awful, but it didn't. I felt a little hot and swimmy-headed. They wouldn't let me get up to go to the bathroom, so I had to use a bedpan. They also wouldn't let me eat while on the medication.

The next day, they did allow me to eat since I was doing so well on the medication, but they still didn't want me to get up for fear that this would cause my labor to progress more quickly. That afternoon, the doctor checked my progress, and I was 8-9 cm dilated. The doctor stopped the magnesium sulfate because it can make the baby sleepy, and a sleepy premature baby is not a good thing. They wanted the medicine out of my system by the time I delivered.

I thought that stopping the magnesium would cause my contractions to become worse, but they really weren't too bad. Some were worse than others, but I was able to breathe through them without too much discomfort.

I had a scary moment that night, when I could no longer hear Quinn's heartbeat on the monitor. I called the nurse, and she was able to readjust the monitor so we could hear him again. But the emotions and fatigue (I only had an hour of sleep each night, during which I managed to pull out my IV) had already caught up to me, and I started crying hysterically. My nurse was very good and knew how to handle me.

A little later, I had a vision that Jesus was holding Quinn and blowing into his lungs to help them mature. It was the reassurance I needed, and I knew Quinn would be OK. They also told us they had a spot for him in the NICU and would hold it for him until he was born (though apparently they don't usually do this). God was working in so many ways.

At 5AM on November 17, the doctor decided to break my water since I had progressed to 10cm and they had a bed available in the NICU. I opted for no pain control, since I was able to tolerate the contractions. Around 5:45, I felt ready to push, but the doctor was delivering another baby, so I had to wait.

Once the doctor was on her way, I was able to start pushing. This was the most difficult and painful 22 minutes of my life. I had asked to have a mirror so I could see him coming out, but I was in such agony that I kept my eyes closed the whole time and forgot all about the mirror. At one point, I wasn't sure if I'd be able to continue. Then the nurse said, "Come on, this is your last push!" I replied, "You're just saying that!" But she was right, and Quinn shot out like a cannon. She even had to tell me to look down to see my child. I was so relieved it was over, I forgot to open my eyes!

So, at 6:21 AM on November 17, 2011, our son was born, weighing 4 lbs 7 oz and measuring 17" long.

The NICU team worked on Quinn. His heart rate was low, and he needed help to start breathing. But after a moment, I got a thumbs up from Hubby, and I knew Quinn was OK. They had told me beforehand that I wouldn't get to hold Quinn, that he would be whisked away to the NICU right after he was born. But he was stable enough for me to get to hold him for a moment before he left.

He was placed in an isolette (an incubator) because he was unable to regulate his temperature. He also required two bouts of phototherapy due to jaundice. He never needed oxygen, which I attribute to Jesus helping to form his lungs before he was born. He was in the NICU for 15 days before he was stable enough to come home. We are so grateful to have him home and are enjoying him tremendously. We are thankful to God for blessing us with Quinn and caring for us and our little miracle.

1 Samuel 1:27-28

Related Posts:
Our Story Part One
Life in the NICU