Hard times are upon us...

I feel like we've really been through the ringer the past couple of days.

I spent the majority of yesterday (Wednesday) with Rhys in the NICU. He seemed to be a good deal more tachypnic than he had been. Because of this I chose just to sit by him and read and sing to him (I didn't want to stress his body too much by moving him around a lot.) When it was almost his 5:30 'hands on time' (the time when he gets his vitals checked, a diaper change, feed, etc) I told his nurse I was going to go ahead and change him- he seemed a little fitful, but I thought he was probably just hungry. I turned back around and noticed that his oxygen saturation suddenly dropped to a dangerous level- when I looked back at Rhys I saw that he was very pale, almost gray, and was arching his back trying to breathe. I yelled for his nurse and immediately began unwrapping his swaddle blanket and unsnapping his clothes so I could do chest compressions if I needed to.
The next half hour was one of the scariest of my life- I sat there and watched as nurses, the doctor, and respiratory therapist (RT) all tried to get him to breathe and breathe comfortably again. It was a very helpless feeling, watching your child struggle to do something most of us consider to be so natural and easy. Once Rhys was somewhat stabilized, it was decided that he would be moved back into the 'ICU' of the NICU, where there is a RT in every room. Somehow, I managed to hold it together during all of this, including what felt like a very long walk back to Pod 2.
As this all happened late in the shift, I had to leave the NICU shortly after, during shift change. (Parents aren't allowed to be in the NICU during shift change- the nurses are giving report at this time, and there could be a breech in patient confidentiality.) I was late on my pumping schedule, so instead of leaving the floor, I went into the Mother's Pump Room.
Once I sat down, I broke down. I began sobbing, and couldn't stop. There was another mom in the pump room who was so kind to me- asking me if I needed anything, bringing me a box of tissues, and even laying her hand on my shoulder around the privacy screen while I cried. I have no idea what she looked like or what her name was, but I can't explain how much those gestures meant to me.

This morning, Rhys's doctor called me to discuss the results of his blood-work. Although his blood-work came back infection free, it showed that Rhys had an extremely low red blood cell count. She had ordered a blood transfusion, but called me to get consent since Thomas and I had requested that donor blood be given from family members, not the blood bank. Unfortunately, as Rhys had been stable, we never banked any blood and she didn't feel we had the luxury of waiting for the blood to be processed- which can take 5 days. So, this afternoon Rhys had a blood transfusion- I am trying to be thankful that some stranger out there has helped my son, and not be disappointed that he had to have a stranger's blood.

The other issue the doctor wanted to speak with me about is their diagnosis of Pulmonary Hypoplasia. PH is a very serious disease in which the lungs are underdeveloped and/or immature. It is actually the number one cause of stillbirths and infant deaths. Luckily, Rhys is in a place where he is being monitored and cared for 24/7. We knew there was a risk that Rhys would have this- during my pregnancy I had 2 of the 4 risk factors: early rupture and extremely low fluid levels. The doctor believes his is more a case of immaturity, and he should outgrow it in time. I am begging and pleading in prayer that this is the case. I would take this from him in a heartbeat, even if it meant I could never sing again. This diagnosis means that Rhys will probably be in the hospital longer than we originally anticipated- probably another month or so.

I am really frustrated right now- I'm having such a hard time understanding why God is allowing this to happen. It doesn't seem fair for such a tiny little baby to have to struggle so much.

I know God spared Rhys for a reason, but I'm ready for Him to heal him.