This week is really taking an emotional and physical toll on me. I'm trying to stay strong and have faith, but sometimes it feels like I'm breaking. Especially when I have to say goodnight to Vincent and leave the hospital.
Just trying to make sure that I'm pumping enough for him to eat (every 2-3 hours), while making sure that I'm eating and keeping myself hydrated, and rested for my big boy.
Lycan hates it at the hospital. Now jealously is kicking in and he really hates it when one of us is holding Vincent. I know that was bound to happen. Sibling rivalry and all.
Lycan had a tough few days: had a high fever on Sunday (teething), his world was thrown upside down, his routines interrupted--well, dashed to pieces, and had been going through a growth spurt. Nearly every waking moment was spent crying because of the pain (despite having taken medicine), and not eating a whole lot. That and he slept a TON in the last 48 hours. Now he seems to be getting back to his old self. Hopefully that molar's broken through. But all of this was made worse due to my inability to lift him up. It's hard when your baby is reaching for you, crying because he's in pain, and you can't pick him up. Sucks.
Then we go to the hospital and he cries when I get out of the car (because my husband drops me off). I'm excited to see my baby, but heartbroken by my little boy who doesn't understand. Separation is healthy for the both of you, but not when dealing with all of this.
Hopefully one of these days will be nice enough so we can take Lycan to the park in the morning, then see Vincent in the evening. I know I'm not, but part of me feels like I'm neglecting Lycan. I haven't changed a diaper--well a pee diaper on Monday--since Friday. It just seems like whenever he's awake, I'm pumping. I'm spending a lot of time at the hospital, too. But I'm afraid to leave Vincent alone (despite knowing that he's not alone--the staff at Dublin Methodist Hospital are amazing), like, I have to see him everyday in case something happens. I have to be there for him, too. I have to drop off milk and do skin-to-skin. I have to. But I'm missing Lycan, too.
I'm just exhausted. And it's only five days into this ordeal. This shit sucks.
I've replaced my diabetic eating schedule with a pumping one. One that's more demanding.
I'm trying to take this day-by-day. I don't want to think about the future too much because I know good things can turn quickly with premature babies. It sounds morbid, but it's realistic. But I know Vincent is strong and is benefiting from my breast milk and our skin-to-skin time together.
I think I'm going to give weekly updates here. If Vincent would've stay in the womb, he'd be at 35 weeks today. Technically, 35 weeks is his Corrected Age, concerning milestones and development. I've been reading a lot about the NICU and preemies thanks to informational binders in Vincent's room.
Ugh, well, I have to go pump again. But I'm leaving off with a hopeful picture, taken today. Vin got his SiPap off this morning (he's breathing through a nose cannula now) and I was able to change his diaper for the first time. :-)
My little handsome warrior.