Thursday, May 20, 2010

Visitors of all kinds

The day after Johnny was born, we had a ton of visitors. It started with all the vitals checks every few hours. These were getting annoying because they kept waking the baby, but I knew it had to be done. I got a call that morning from the Lactation consultants and had an appointment for them to come and help me nurse. I was so looking forward to this because he had yet to latch on. Johnny also had a hearing test. He passed the first time with flying colors. A pediatrician came in the morning to give him a thorough check. Everything looked great!

The best part of the day was when my family came to visit. Mom and John were already with me and my grandma, sister-in-law and nephews came for a quick visit. I proudly showed off my little man. I even let them hold him. I was getting better at it. Lots of pictures were taken and then they were gone.

Now, I'm going to back up a little here. While I was pregnant, I did not eat any deli meat or drink any coffee because I had read that deli meat could cause listeriosis and that coffee/caffeine contributed to miscarriages. The entire time I was pregnant, all I wanted was a cold deli sandwich. I never had one. So near the end of my pregnancy, I made certain that everyone knew exactly what I wanted directly after having the baby: a cold cut combo from Subway and a Decaf Cafe Vanilla from Coffee Bean. Decaf because I was nursing. John went home early that morning to shower and rest a bit, and that afternoon he came bearing gifts. I got my sandwich and coffee. HEAVEN. I have eaten a turkey sandwich everyday since having Johnny.

My mom, John and I sat in the room and took turns holding the baby. Finally in the afternoon, the Lactation consultant showed up. By this time, Johnny had neither eaten nor peed. The nurses were giving me a hard time saying that if he didn't pee in 24 hours, they would keep him for observation and I could go home without him. Formula anyone?! When the Lactiation gal came, I was in a panic to get him latched on and nursing. And at this point, I had not problem whipping my boobs out in front of anyone. So she took the baby and handed him to John so she could inspect my boobs. What an interesting job. So she's pulling and pinching and says that I have milk, so it should be no problem. She takes the baby and holds my boob and slams his little face onto it. I was shocked. Poor little guy. Up to this point, I had handled the baby very gently and it seemed like she came in and totally manhandled him. Anyhow, she tried and tried this with no success. He was not able to latch. She put her finger in his mouth and said that he had a high pallete, receding chin and a short tongue. With all of these issues, I may need a shield, but I should keep trying until tomorrow. In the meantime, I was to syringe feed him 10 cc's of formula and pump. She also mentioned after having her finger in his mouth, that he had very sharp gums and she was scared for me. Very nice. Way to encourage me. Yeesh.

They brought a pump in and away I went. I was on a mission to feed my little guy the best stuff I could give him. I gave him every drop, and I mean every single drop, through a syringe. I pumped every 2 hours faithfully and tried nursing him in between. I wasn't sleeping at all. There was just too much going on and I couldn't stop staring at this precious little boy.

Late in the evening, the doctor came in and said it was time for his cirumcision. This was the first time he would be away from me and naturally I was upset. I knew he would be enduring some pain and I wouldn't be there for him. I reluctantly let them wheel him away. I was adamant about no pacifiers or sugar water, but when she asked if they could give him either to soothe him during and/or after the procedure, I told her to go ahead and give him anything he needed. They wheeled him out the door. As soon as the door shut, I burst into tears. Poor baby was on his own and he was sleeping and just didn't know what was about to happen. I paced the room until his return. I don't remember where my mom and John were at this point, but both were gone.

About an hour later, my precious baby was returned to me, sleeping soundly. He didn't look any different all wrapped up in his blankets. Soon enough, however, I had to change his diaper and I got to see the doctor's handywork. All I can say is my baby has a high threshold for pain because it looked gross and looked like it should really hurt. He never bat an eyelash while it was healing. So I suppose it wasn't as bad as I had worked myself up to believe. Either way, he'll have no recollection of it, thank God.

That evening a nurse came in to check vitals and said that if the Pediatrician gave us the ok, we'd be able to go home the following day. I had mixed feelings about this. I really appreciated having the baby checked every few hours. I was still so paranoid that something bad was going to happen and having doctors and nurses so close was very reassuring. But the idea of finally being at home with the baby, in his nursery, was so appealing.

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