Day 2

We awoke hoping the best, but Lucas still wasn't improving. They tried to take him off the CPap, but had to put it back on because his Oxygen would drop again. The only thing the doctors would say is that, "He's on the fence," or "He's just sitting on the border." They were waiting for him to either improve or get worse so they could find out what was wrong. That was one of the worst feelings ever. Complete helplessness. It was hard to see our perfect little baby sick, and not being able to do anything but wait. They had him on an IV with sugar water and antibiotics, did blood work, chest x-rays, echo-cardiogram, etc...

I, of course, had been pretty emotional dealing with a sick baby, post pregnancy hormones, and recovery, but the nurses told Brad (to tell me) that I had to hold it together and be positive so that I might be able to hold him again (due to baby's being able to sense emotions and stress). I later discovered, that was why Brad wasn't trying to hold him those first few days. He was doing a great job of calming me down and helping me to stay positive, but was so worried and stressed, he didn't want to stress out Lucas.

So, I was determined to be positive and happy. I kept telling myself he'd pull out of it, get all the tubes and wires removed, and we'd be going home in a couple days. We felt Emma and Jake needed some Daddy time, since it had gotten a bit crazy and wanted them to have a bit of normal, so my mom (who had come to help out with me and the kids) came to the hospital to hang out with me.

Then came my breaking point. Lucas's doctor came in and told me that an ambulance transport team was on the way, and they were transferring him to the NICU at the Provo hospital. All my positive thoughts gone, and I just began to bawl.

Brad was at Boondock's with the kids (where Emma hit a Jackpot and won 1000 tickets!), but couldn't hear my mom due to how loud it was there (my poor mother was trying to handle getting a hold of him and me bawling at the same time...). We finally were able to talk, but he wouldn't be able to be there in time before they took Lucas.

I calmed down enough to go sit in the NICU with my mom and Lucas just as the transport team had arrived. They let me hold him for one minute before taking him. Unbearable helplessness -- more tears. As they left, they said "here's his first shirt" (a little life flight helicopter shirt), and wheeled him out. It's funny, I look back now remembering how mad I was that they thought it would make me happy that they were giving me a shirt while they were taking my Lucas. (Of course I know they meant well.)

I think I've been purposefully delaying blogging about this birth experience, knowing I'd be fighting back tears remembering all this. It was, without a doubt, the worst feeling in the world having him sick and taken away where I couldn't see him or be with him.

It had been such an emotional day, my pain meds had worn off, and I hadn't eaten anything for longer than I should have. It was recommended that I stay in the hospital overnight, and the Doctor could release me home in the morning. Brad went to the Provo hospital to get everything taken care of there and to check on Lucas. He was so impressed with how things were run in this much more specialized and monitored NICU, a doctor who had his "command center" by Lucas telling the nurses what he needed, etc. Brad called and told me how much better and confident he felt with Lucas there, and having had some reassurance that he was in good hands, I tried to get back in my positive mind frame and get some rest.