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Remembering, Part 4

I realize that it has been a long time since "remembering" Son #7's trama.  It was starting to take me back to a place that was emotionally too much.   Even now, through God's goodness and loving hand, it is like a huge stone sitting on my chest.

I don't want to leave anyone "hanging", so I will try to finish.

Son #7's breathing was not stable.  They doctor decided to put him on the vent.  But when the vent was brought to his room his breathing started to become more stable.  They moved the vent and he was unstable.  Finally the doctor left it outside of his door as a "threat".  It worked!  However, he was not out of danger. 

My sweet little man became a stranger to me.  He would get worked up over any noise.  We could not hold, touch or even talk around him.  If his eyes were open and you made eye-contact with him he would get worked up and his heart rate would go up. 

I had a lot of questions for the doctors, but all I heard was "we will have to wait and see".  I tried to tell them he was different and not the same babe that I had before his event.  They kept saying that preemies are like that, always changing.  After two days I had had enough.  If no one else would be an advocate for my babe, I would.

I drove to the north side of the city to the hospital where Son was born.  I talked and cried to the RT and nurses about what had happened.  Our RT went and got the NICU doctor.  I told him what had happened.  He was still part of the staff at the children's hospital, that is also part of the medical school.  He knew the doctor that was following Son, and asked if I wanted to have him transported back to our original NICU.  YES!!!! 

So it was settled that next morning that we would move him the following day. I had some 'friends' that came up to see me while waiting to be moved.  They told me I was wrong to move him.  That people were dying to be able to get their children into the children's hospital and I was make a big mistake.  Talk about a blow!  Here I have a baby fighting for it's life, trying to get someone to listen that Son was not the same, and now telling me I was making a mistake.  I cannot tell you how low I felt.

We made the move and the doctor, nurses and RT all agreed that he was not the same babe.  At last!  I had some hope.  They could not tell me what was wrong or even sure what had happened, but we were on the same page...Son #7 had become a different baby.

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