Epic Failings

This is a picture I took last week after I got Lorelai dressed for her second pediatrician appointment. We went in, and found that our 24 hours of supplementing formula had been successful and she'd gained a few ounces. We also found that her temperature was low - 94.7 and tried to warm her up. She was wearing her clothes, a hoodie, two blankets, and against my body with my own hoodie wrapped around both of us. A space heater was placed in the room. The highest her temperature got was 96.1 after two hours of this. We were sent to the pediatric E.R. for hypothermia.

There was talk of an infection. They put her on monitors and her vitals kept dipping. We spent 4 days in the NICU. After a couple of days on the warmer, her temperature came up and she was able to maintain it. After working hard to get her to eat more, her jaundice levels were dropping, she was gaining strength and as her labs were coming back negative for infection, we started watching her intake, output, and weight gain for signs that she was ready to come home. We just came home today.

The doctor in the NICU said that she'd been treated as a term baby in post-partum and she really should have been considered premature as she'd just been 37 weeks, and growth restricted. We were released perhaps too soon, and she hadn't been ready for life at home.

I feel very strongly like it's my fault. After I had her, I pushed for us to go home that day, and that morning before Matt had to go to work. If I'd relaxed and spent one more day in the hospital, signs that she was deteriorating slowly might have been picked up, and we could have avoided this. While we caught things early enough to get to the hospital before the situation got really dangerous, it's still difficult to see your baby sick, suffering, hooked up to machines and wires. And in the back of my mind, I know that I caused that with my impatience.

Not even a week in, and I'd already failed her. I've been failing her since conception. My body didn't give her enough nourishment, wouldn't release her to labor, still won't make enough milk to feed her. I'm doing the best I can, but it doesn't seem to be quite enough.

 She looks better, and she's eating fantastically. But I can't help but feel that she deserves better, much better than I will ever be able to give her.