May 5, 2006

We are having a great/terrible day today. Silas is doing fabulously. We keep being reminded by those in charge that he is still a sick little boy, but we just want to leap for joy at his progress. However, our dear Nanette is once again having difficulties. Joe told me tonight that she has some sort of infection. They are running tests. I'm not sure if it is due to her bowels or if it is something else. I haven't seen Joanne all day and my heart is breaking for them both.

The range of emotions is unexplainable to people who haven't been through the NICU roller coaster and it is unfathomable to us that are going through it. How can we be so excited about our child's progress one moment and yet in tears the next over our friend's child? And vice versa when ours has a day where he is taking giant steps backward and their child is doing well. It is like our lives have become so intimately entwined that we ache and rejoice in every aspect of Nanette's recovery. I yearn for the day that we are sitting together watching our youngsters play in the sandbox or on the play ground and reminice about how hard it was getting through the trauma of the NICU. Some day soon we'll be able to sit back and marvel at the normalcy of our lives and how our children are leading such normal (if somewhat spoiled) lives. Today however, we weep with the Cookes. We hope with the Cookes. And we wait with the Cookes.

My sister, Shahala, and her husband Peter have gone back home after a lovely, if all too short, visit. Since Silas has been doing well, their visit was a wonderful distraction and reminder of life in the outside. They took Albert home with them so that he could get our car and come back. After talking to the older three kids though, I think that he seriously needs to spend Saturday with our big kids. Savannah is missing us tremendously having only seen me for a few days in almost 4 weeks. Jerusha asks me every time I talk to her how many more sleeps until I come home. Tonight she asked if I was ever coming home. Micah has gotten very sullen and quiet and I am very worried about him. I just don't know what to do about all of this. The parable of the shepherd leaving the 99 sheep who were safe to go find the one lost sheep comes to mind. But it doesn't alleviate the weight on my heart and mind about Micah, Savannah and Jerusha. I know that I am where I need to be right now and there is no choice in all of this, but I still feel as though I am being incredibly neglectful of them.

So, about Silas: this morning when I arrived at Silas' bed, he had no IV and no oxygen canulas. He has only the nasal tube which administers my milk into his tummy. He is almost a free boy! Well, that might be pushing it just a little, but we are having an "up" day so why not revel in it's glory. Silas is starting to be more interested in nursing and it is amazing to have his soft skin pressed to mine. I spent three hours this evening with him snuggled up against my skin while he slept (they call this kangarooing). I say he slept, but he wasn't the only one. I woke up only because I needed to express my milk and it was acutely torturous to let go of him. The wonderful nurse on tonight promised she'd call me if he got fussy and since I trust her to be true to her word, I've come back to the Ronald McDonald house to finish my update and get some more sleep. It is difficult to be not living with my infant son. I would never leave such a young baby, even with a sitter like Grammy or Aunty, for lengths of time such as I am compelled to do here. We are so close to the hospital (we can see it out the window) yet it is not nearly close enough. It is hard to not get impatient when I look at Silas as he looks and acts like such a normal newborn. I want to scoop him up and run away home. I was reminded though of how long a process this recovery will be when I talked with the physical Therapist who will be starting to work with him on Monday. They need to make sure that he doesn't let his muscles and joints atrophy because they are sore from lying in one position for so long after birth.

I can't wait until I my older children are able to come visit and hold their little brother for the first time. He will blink his dark eyes at them and get his first introduction to the faces that go with the voices he has heard since his ears were fearfully and wonderfully created in the womb. And I will be able to see my family together. Others have told about getting day passes or weekend passes for their little ones when they were getting well. They got to spend a whole weekend at the Ronald McDonald house as a family. Oh the sheer joy at the mere thought of such a prospect! Soon and very soon.

Love and thanks, Tanaya