Yesterday, I was released from the hospital. Although being in the hospital wasn’t really fun, it was nice because the babies were 3 minutes down the hall. Being at home is tough because now they’re 20 minutes away and it’s a big production to get there. I have to pump, get dressed, shower, eat, take medication, pump, and then have Brise drive us. Then we have to park, go to the NICU and then just look at the babies in their plastic cages (known as isolettes). It’s hard because it’s far away and then we get there and I feel really helpless. We talk to the babies and it’s clear they can hear us (they will wiggle or sometimes open their eyes), but we can’t hold them and so far Brise and I are pretty afraid to touch them. They are so small and fragile. Rex, Brise’s brother, pointed out that they’re basically fetuses who are in an artificial womb. It’s hard. They aren’t supposed to be touched yet. They should be safely in my tummy still. But that’s not the path they’re on. Instead, they have a team of very dedicated nurses and doctors who draw their blood daily (which leads to their needing blood and platelet transfusions), monitor every heartbeat, and track every breath they take (The Police would be proud). Meanwhile, Brise and I can only really stand and look in. I’m still recovering so I only have about an hour of standing in me before I have to sit down. It’s an experience I never imagined and one for which I was totally unprepared.
While we were in the hospital, though, we took lots of pictures of the babies. I wasn’t updating this blog then, but the pictures show where they started.
