Cry Baby

Today Vanessa was removed off of the conventional ventilator to a nasal CPAP. Which means constant positive pressure. She has two little prongs in her nose providing the pressure needed to keep her lungs open, but she is breathing on her own! This is a big step and we are hoping that she is able to stay on CPAP. Because of CPAP I was able to hear her cry for the first time since she was born just one day shy of 2 months ago. It was the most preicous cry you could possibly imagine.

Rollercoaster? Try Richter Scale!

I've been thinking a lot lately about this analogy that time spent in the NICU is like a rollercoaster and while I understand where it makes some sense, I really don't think it's the best way to describe it. To me, a rollercoaster is fast, and the moments of terror are quickly overcome by moments of excitement. On a rollercoaster, the scary parts are over quickly and you always know that the ride will only last so long. This is not the case in the NICU. While I'm sure I will reflect back on this time years from now, and think that it went by quickly; right now, being stuck in the middle, I can't help but feel that this will never end.

So, I've decided that there is a much better analogy that for me seems to make a little more sense. I think having a micro preemie is like living in Southern California on the San Andres fault line. Vanessa being born early would be our magnitude 6.0. It's scary, traumatic and takes a lot of rebuilding to recover, but all along you know that you are at risk for an aftershock, or even worse that the first quake was a before shock and you've got a worse one coming. So, you sleep with one eye open, and you never really settle just waiting for the next strike. And sure enough, you get it. Aftershocks.... Constant aftershocks, some worse than others, but never letting up enough for you to feel safe because you know that at any moment your world can be shook up. So you try to rebuild, but then you are broken back down.

Right now, all I'm trying to do is survive from one earthquake to the next. Is it easy? Absolutely not. But I'm trying to cherish the good days and make it through the bad ones, and remain strong for my family.

On the bright side, Vanessa is now 3 pounds 3 ounces, which is bigger than Travis was at birth. I don't know why it seems like such a big deal, but to me, from here it doesn't seem as scary. Even though Vanessa is still not breathing on her own, her size is becoming a source of comfort.

My Girl

Sweet Little Toes

Nice and Cozy!

♥ Cassea

For One So Small, You Seem So Strong

I've been contemplating and rationalizing my feelings a lot lately. I can feel my emotions swing throughout the day from pure joy to utter dispair. I fly off the handle at the most insignificant thing and I've been feeling especially selfish lately. I don't think it's fair. I know that I have so much to be grateful for, but it's hard to see that when there seems to be no end in sight. I've been thinking though, that a mother/infant seperation is traumatic. I explained one night to Henry how you see these shows on Discovery Channel about mother animals flying off the handle when there babies are taken from them. I can't help but think that maybe how I'm feeling is typical???

Nothing has really prompted this particular entry. We are still on the oscilattor, and although Vanessa is gaining weight like a champ, it feels insignificant when she still on the ventilator. People keep asking "At what weight can she come home?" and this question is so frustrating to me. I think it's frustrating because with Travis, weight was the main concern and pretty much, once he got bigger he was coming home. We are not there with Vanessa... Weight is not the concern, it's all breathing.

I'm ready for her to come home. I'm ready to pick her up at any moment just because she's mine. I'm ready to stay up all night watching her breath, because I know what a miracle each breath is. I'm ready to bath her. I'm ready to dress her up like the little princess she is. I'm ready to hold her, because it has now been 16 days since I held her last. I'm ready...

Henry thinks she looks like me

You'll be in my heart...

♥ Cassea