It Was the Worst of Times, Part 3

Around day 4 the worst of the danger had passed. He was still pretty sick, but it wasn't nearly as touch and go. I got to hold him on day 4. It was an incredible production. I sat in a rocking chair and an entire team came to move Soren and all his accompanying equipment. Not quite the baby on your chest moment that people expect when they hold their baby for the first time, but it was magical nonetheless.



After a few days of recovery from the surgery I was able to spend more time at Soren's bedside. Quite a relief for Peter, I'm sure. It felt so important to me to keep my hands on him and talk to him so that he would know it was me. I sang to him a lot. Songs that I loved, or songs that I made up. Somehow I even ended up rapping to him (and I hate rap!) Here's my song:

Little Bo Peep has a'lost her sheep
And she didn't know where to find them.
She looked all around
She looked up and a'down
And what she found was Soren
Soren, Soren, Mr. Soren Urban

Rap nursery rhymes. Me, the gangsta mom.

The Special Care nursery staff was incredible. They made little signs and decorations. Misty, the girl at the front desk made this wonderful sparkly sign that said "You are my sunshine." So of course, I sang that to him too.

You are my sunshine
My only sunshine
You make me happy when skies are grey
You'll never know, dear
How much I love you
Please don't take my sunshine away.

To this day I can't sing (or type) the last line of that song without weeping. Because, for me, there really was a chance that my sunshine might be taken away.

Sue, one of his main nurses, brought us a sparkly magic wand. It was such a kind gesture, her telling us how she wished she could just wave her magic wand to make everything all better.



Soren's primary doctor in the NICU was Dr. Nicole Schmidt. I don't usually use people's first and last names on this blog, but if it somehow helps her name be found when another parent is searching for information on the doctor who is caring for their critically ill child, I'm happy to have used her name. After the experience, I have Googled her name, only to find sterile reports on her specialties or where she practices. But, to me, she was touched by the hand of God. I am sooooo grateful for everything she did. Peter summarized it well when he observed "good things just seem to happen when she is around."

When we were first in the NICU there were little temporary signs taped on curtains and on doors or windows. They said "We have some very sick babies right now. Please keep your voice low." I always felt so moved by those signs. Felt such compassion for the poor family who's child was so sick that they required special signs in the NICU. I knew our journey was rough, but I felt so sad for how hard their journey must be. And then as Soren started improving, I noticed that the nurses were talking a bit louder, that those signs were going away. Those signs had been there for Soren. And then I just felt gratitude, gratitude that I hadn't realized that my child was the most sick child in the NICU.

Still more to say? Wow. I guess there were a lot of memories of that dark time. Tomorrow will be the last installment though, I promise. Then it will be on to the best of times.