NICU & Pumping

I have been emailing this information to a woman who has a premature son in a NICU now in hopes to be of an encouragement to her. I wanted to post this on the blog to have to look back on. It seems like a distant memory going through all of this but one I want to remember for sure.

NICU & Pumping

Well, I remember my first trip up. I had just gotten discharged out the hospital and went straight to the hospital where the baby was. I hadn't seen him for two days. Initially he was on just nasal canulla but then got intubated the day after he was born. When I went up I saw him with all these wires and tubes, ugh it was terrible. Then there were the machines and all the noises and alarms. I felt super overstimulated and scarred. As soon as I saw him I cried. I was really battling with feeling guilty for not being able to carry him longer. I knew logically that it wasn't my fault what happened but being a 'mom' I just wanted to help him and I couldn't. I hated feeling so helpless. It was so frustrating being there because we couldn't do anything for him and we couldn't hold him, change him, feed him. We just stood there for hours and starred and prayed. It was hard going up each day and fearing what news we would hear. It was almost like you couldn't breathe until you heard news, well good news. Bad news always made you keep holding your breath. 

The worst part of all of it was not being able to hold Malachi for 8 days. It felt like eternity. I can't imagine what a month would feel like. We had to wait until they took the line out of his stomach which they drew for the blood gas tests. I always loved Malachi but I didn't feel as emotional attached to him or as affectionate toward him as I had imagined I would be. I guess this might have been due to the fact of the C-section and not seeing him for 2 days or holding him for 8 days. It was like I walked in the to NICU and they said 'here this one is yours'. It was almost like I had never been pregnant and someone was just giving me a baby. It took a while to bridge the gap between the mind and the emotions of all that had happened. Coming home to a room full of baby stuff was not helpful either. Everything was everywhere, boxes, clothes. Nothing ready. No baby. I had to sleep in his room because the futon we had in there was easier for me to get in and out of bed from than our bed as it is on risers. It almost felt like I lost the baby or something since his room was empty and I was home. 

PUMPING. Man I hate pumping. Breastfeeding is on of the best feelings in the world. That's when I really felt like I bonded with my baby. I had to pump for about a month before Malachi could breast feed. He was too small up until that point and didn't have the muscles to latch on properly. It felt more like a project getting the baby fed the first few weeks he was home more than anything. I was pumping every 2-3hrs round the clock. I would pump, freeze the milk in individual bags and then defrost the older milk for the baby to drink. That meant getting bottles ready, cleaning and sanitizing everything all day long. I don't think I really did much of anything else runing that time. I would get up pump, set an alarm to wake the baby up as he would just sleep and never wake to eat or anything, get the bottle ready, feed the baby and go back to bed. Eventually I got really tired from being up for over an hr several time a night so Chris would get up and feed the baby while I pumped. It was quiet the ordeal. Again the baby felt more like a project than actually enjoying feeding and nurturing him. After a major break down I just went cold turkey one day and got Malachi to breast feed. He was about 38 weeks or so at that point. He did great and still is going strong. He won't take a bottle now, but I don't mind because I love breastfeeding him.