Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Melbourne: changable weather
This morning I got in early and the night nurse told me Kaylee had a good night. We hung out together and I did some computer stuff, taking time to write a long e-mail to one of my favourite friends. We had plans of a test today to look at her reflux some more but other than that, a quiet day ahead of us - I was planning a second attempt at finding a shopping centre later that afternoon. We did normal things like weigh and bath her - a relief to get more ultrasound gel out of her hair. I had a big cuddle then we settled again. The young student nurse was given the job of taking obs (which my nurse thoroughly checked each time) and the other babies kept the nurses moving every minute with their demands. Kaylee had perhaps one dip in her heartbeat the whole time and was generally quiet and happy, opening her eyes to stare knowingly at me at times or sleeping.
Then a friend dropped in a box of my stuff and I went back to Ronald McDonald House to put it away. I was walking back to the hospital when my phone rang. It was Ali, my Case Nurse. I presumed she was ringing to talk to me about the planned test or perhaps tell me that Genetics wanted to talk to me. She was, in fact, ringing to tell me that my baby was navy blue from head to foot. It took an eternity to get back to the ward where the room was full of people putting lines in, bagging, administering drugs etc.
Seeing a baby surrounded by all of this, with tiny blue toes poking out, is gut wrenching and surreal. Two things so totally different, meshed together. Death and birth brushing against each other. Innocence and pain. Love and the crushing effects of sin.
I didn't want to tell anyone.
There is a comic that has a man looking thoroughly bedraggled and sitting in a bar. He is leaning over to the bartender saying "I'd tell you all about it but I don't want to hear it myself"
That is how I felt.
I didn't want to be the bringer of this news to those who love Kaylee.
And each time the words left my mouth it made it all the more real.
When I got down to ICU with her she was stoned out of her mind. The peaceful sleep of the morning now a slack-jawed sleep of the drugged.
I think I mentioned before that I can tell how well Kaylee is doing by what kind of chair I have. Today in ICU I didn't even sit down.
She is in surgery as I write this. The surgery is one that these doctors do often and the odds are in Kaylee's favour in spite of her size....just. It isn't a surgery that will fix her heart but it is one that will hopefully get her through the next few months until she is big enough and strong enough for a full repair. We are hoping to keep it down to three surgeries before her first birthday so hopefully they will get the right size shunt first time.
Jon is on his way over. I can only imagine what he is going through.
I am going to spend some time here in the quiet of my room where I can sit without anyone asking me how I am or if I need anything and cry before I have a sleep, express and eat. The three things I need to do so I can keep taking care of her.