Life is so tough. Illness is inevitable and our little Lyla found that out almost immediately upon entering the world. Trenton and I were so excited that, despite being born a little early, she was strong and healthy and able to come home from the hospital after only a few days.
The first two weeks home were bittersweet. I was having trouble producing enough milk and Lyla lost 13% of her body weight, which is a big no-no. She and I also got thrush, making nursing extremely miserable. I was so frustrated because she was latching well and was obviously starving, but I couldn't give her enough. Then to add insult to injury, I developed a fever, body aches, the WORST cramps, and I began hemorrhaging. All I wanted to do was enjoy my new baby but I couldn't focus because of how sick I was. I felt like I was dying. Finally I went to the doctor and found out I had endometritis, which is an infection caused by a portion of the placenta remaining in the uterus. It's the most common reason women used to die from childbirth back before they had antibiotics. Thankfully I live now, and after only a couple days of treatment I felt 100% better. Which is a miracle, because a few days after that Lyla began coughing and acting like she wasn't feeling well. When she was exactly two weeks old I noticed that she seemed to be struggling with her breathing. I'm not the type to run my kids to the doctor every time they sniffle. But I had an overwhelming feeling that I needed to call the doctor, and after explaining her symptoms he told us to go straight to the ER.
Trenton and I fully expected to have her evaluated and be sent home shortly after because she was acting perfectly healthy once we got to the ER. The ER doctor wasn't going to run any tests, but again, something inside me drove me to insist that they do. The doctor was as shocked as we were when he returned with the results that she came back positive for RSV. Before I knew it, we were being admitted into the hospital and escorted to the pediatric unit. I couldn't understand why this tiny baby, who looked to have nothing more than the common cold, was creating such a fuss. The doctor explained that RSV
is like the common cold for older children and adults, but to a newborn- especially a premature newborn, the virus can be life-threatening. He also said that judging by her symptoms, she was probably only on day one or two of the virus, and it usually peaks around day or four which is when she would most likely need medical intervention. All Trenton and I could do is look at each other in disbelief when the doctor said to prepare ourselves for a week or two in the hospital.
The first night in the hospital the nurses just kept an eye on her oxygen saturation and sucked her boogers. Because it's a virus, there isn't anything they can do other than treat the symptoms and deal with any complications. Since it was the weekend, Trenton was able to stay with me at the hospital- which was miserable! We thought the little couch turned into a bed like the ones in the maternity ward, and we didn't realize it didn't until it was too late for Trenton to go home. So we shared a couch that Emma would think is small and both woke up with a crick in our necks and circles under our eyes. We were put in a "quarantine" room, so everyone that entered had to wear full protective gear. Tad and Linsey came for a visit- It was nice to have company and get our minds off of what was happening.
The second night her oxygen did drop too low so they had to help her out a little. This "minor" complication could have been devastating if our doctor hadn't had the wisdom to admit her and have her consistently monitored. It was horrible to see my itty bitty baby sick. I have never felt so helpless in my life. But the doctor continued to remind us how lucky we were that she was doing so well. There were two other two week old babies that were hospitalized the same time as Lyla with RSV and they had to be put in the Pediatric ICU because they were not faring as well. I could give many examples of why, but I think it suffices to say that she is a tough little girl. A very tough little girl.
I still can't get over the tiny hospital gown they put her in. I HATE that there is even a need for tiny hospital gowns. Little people just shouldn't be allowed to get sick. The only time I cried throughout this whole ordeal was when we first walked onto the pediatric floor. It was like another world that nobody ever thinks about- with tiny face masks and hospital gowns and miniature beds. I really lost it when the nurse was explaining that a lot of these kids are here for months battling cancer and other diseases and that parents eventually have to leave their kids with volunteers because they have to go back to work. It's impossible for me to express how blessed and thankful I feel to have healthy kids. Even though Lyla was sick, I knew she'd get better and that we would eventually take her home. I can't imagine the desperation in the parents would do anything for that kind of hope.
I am also thankful to live in a country where my children can receive prompt medical attention and have awesome nurses like her! She helped me through one of the scarier times in my life and took such special care of my little girl. Modern technology made it possible for us to bring our little lady home after a few days. She's still on oxygen, but seems to be much happier with the company of her brother and sister. Thanks to everyone that helped us out during this little trial! We couldn't have done it without you.
