Today, if you can believe it, was slated to be my due date. Ironically, I’m so glad I didn’t make it this far…I’ve gotten to love on Luke for an extra 3 1/2 weeks – what’s not magical about that?
This morning, he returned to the Luke I know. He was calmer, happier and much more content. After a long visit with the neonatologist this morning, we’ve decided to hold off on any more feeds until Thursday. And, we’ll probably do 3cc every 6 hours, instead of every 3. His belly just needs more rest.
So we watch and wait.
I also chatted with the cardiologist. After the most recent EKG, looks like the PDA is not closing after all, but we’ll tackle the PDA and the VSD at a later date. We’ll repeat the EKG weekly for now unless we see something concerning. Whew. One major organ at a time, doc.
Last night as Scott and I sat holding Luke, we both came to the slow realization that we have two options.
#1: We can be sad that he’s not at home with us and throw a really big pity party.
#2: We can be thankful that he’s in the best place right now…with state-of-the-art machines, doctors and nurses who monitor him 24/7. And, that we’re in a country that provides amazing healthcare. Yes, I know some might disagree, but we’re in a better hospital than so many other places around the world.
So, pity party or thankful. I’ll take 90% thankful, 10% pity party. Nice compromise, don’t you think?
In the “spirit of thankfulness,” I thought it would be appropriate to share this letter that Will wrote in class this week. Man, I love that kid.
And, to add insult to injury, at 7:53 p.m. the flu swab came back positive on son #2. Lovely. You know, ’cause we didn’t have enough going on around here. Thank the good Lord that Granny is here to care for him while we put John Paul in quarantine. If either Scott or I gets sick, we have to stay away from the NICU for seven – yes, SEVEN – days. Not gonna do it. Stay away you crazy flu.
Here’s to a restful few days – for all of Team Whitaker. David must rest. Goliath will be here later in the week.