"Say what, Doc?": The day after I started chemo we began our daily trek to Philly to see Sam in the NICU. My nerves were shot from not knowing what to expect from chemo, so we got a late start to give me some rest. But on the ride over, the NICU called and wanted to talk about plans to discharge our peanut. I was assuming the doctor meant the next day or the day after, but she meant Today. Holy crap! Was this really happening? I immediately tried to put the brakes on my excitement because it wasn't a definite and Sam would still have to have 2 good feedings before they sent her off. I did not want to get my hopes up for nothing. But seriously, Billy and I were like 2 kids on Christmas morning.
Spit Happens: It figures that Sam's next feeding seemed to be going excellently. Until...she puked all over Billy. We assumed that would hamper her breaking out, but the nurse reassured us that spit up is just part of the daily routine and it would not be an issue. It's funny, as much as the NICU staff kept reassuring us about everything and that she would be fine, we were reassuring them that we were in no rush to get her out of there.
Because the reality is... Bringing home a baby is scary. Bringing home a preemie is terrifying. There is no more 24 hour staff, no monitors to alert you of the slightest change in vitals, no comfort in having someone there at all times to ask anything and everything to.
There's nothing longer than that first car ride home (I mean our ride was longer to begin with, so that sucked.) I definitely had the easier job of sitting in the back with Sam. Billy had to face the cars and traffic and not want to kill every idiot driver on the road. Well she made it home. Magical people scurried around the house to finish her nursery, put together a crib, and hang up blinds (I will come back to the magical people soon, but they will need their own post. They might need another blog!). Anyway, Sam was home. I was so excited. I was so in love. But God, I was so tired. And that is where my heavyweight fight began.
Welcome to motherhood, Dad: Two nights ago my husband became a mother. And I use that word to not take away from being a father. I mean it more in the biological sense of a mother animal taking care of her young. And I also want to stop and say that I have argued on behalf of men for years on the topic of a mother and father being equally fit to raise children. I stand firm in the fact that besides breastfeeding, men are perfectly capable of taking care of a newborn. Billy is doing nothing different than any other man or woman. However, he is amazing at it. He is sleep deprived beyond measure, but he is in heaven. He is different in the sense that it's not just a baby he is caring for. He is also caring for me. And that load is too much for one person to carry.
Right now I am doing fine. Side effects are minimal but they are there and the combination of meds, chemo, and sleep deprivation are making me really foggy (I will use this as my excuse for any writing errors!) The hardest part for me is not being able to be the primary caregiver for Sam. The first night she was home was tough medicine. I couldn't make the bottles and feed her every 2-3 hours like I did with my other kids. I did what I could, but it wasn't enough. Last night I didn't do one feeding and pardon my French, that fucking sucked. I am up with her today but I feel like half a mom and half a burden and this constant fight between knowing when I am physically okay to take care of her and knowing when I have to stop and rest is incredibly hard to bear. And this is just the beginning of her life and the beginning of my battle.
Love: I must end this on a positive note because there is a new life and a new love in my family and it needs to be celebrated. I know I have nausea meds and pain relievers right now and even seasickness bands (thanks to my cousin) to help me combat the effects of chemo. But even better...I have love. And not just love for Sam. I have love for Billy and his tireless efforts to take care of everyone and everything. I have even more love for my older children, Emily and Will. I wasn't sure how they would be with Sam but they are truly amazing. They are both beaming from ear to ear with love for her. One day they will be her heroes. I have love for all the helpers that continue to do anything they can to make my life easier.
And lastly, I will take my cynical and hard-shelled exterior off for a second to sound really Mother Earth and quite unlike myself. I have love for whatever created us and allowed me to bring another beautiful life into this world. I really didn't think this baby would survive the surgery or thrive as a preemie.
But she did.
And she is here.
And I love her.