May 04 2009
You are my sunshine, my only sunshine
Today my husband and I met with our palliative care rep and the neo natologist that will be working on Vayden’s induction date. We had a few questions as to what was medically available for him post birth and wanted to get her stand point on our choice to select comfort care vs. invasive care. I feel that in order to get the best care possible the Dr. needs to be on the same page with the patient. She is completely on board with us and actually praises us for the brave choice we’ve made.
This appointment did get me teary eyed, as she prepared us for how Vayden may look appearance wise and what to be prepared for post delivery, although such a sweet woman she constantly attached his name with phrases like “will pass shortly” or “these numbers don’t good”. She gave us a realistic outcome but also knew of our faith, so she gave us all the outcomes, both good and bad. Some that I was not even aware were possible. I was surprised to see how she made this situation not only about me but she also included Van. To his surprise he was told that he would be helping her out while she did the quick assessment on Vayden and how she felt that was necessary for the father to make memories. She was also very compassionate and understanding that in many cases things like this don’t truly hit the father until the baby is born, and she only expects him to be a tiny bit stronger than me, however she mentioned that in many cases the father turns into the complete wreck.
We were asked if we wanted to tour the NICU, we declined. We feel that if Vayden is meant to stay with us he will not even need to visit that side of the hospital. Not to mention no matter who’s child it is, the NICU is not always a pretty place. Special cases like ours deliver in special rooms with special pictures on the doors. The labor and delivery unit is separated by two sides, the joyful mommies to be and excited guest in the waiting room side, and the high-risk side. Even on today’s tour I could tell the difference. Less baby portraits hanging on the walls, the nurses stationed seemed quieter, and our palliative care nurse was well known, so sad eyes of sorrow hit us as they welcomed Debbie back again. It was like they knew why she was there with us and they knew our case was special aka high-risk.
My sleep is now being interrupted; two nights ago I had my first dream about Vayden’s birth. I’ve tried to daydream the birth out but have never gotten far, that night I had to fight my own self to wake up. This dream did not end good and we did loose Vayden, but what woke me up and kept me up the rest of the night was how fast it all happened, and how although I saw my precious sweet baby I didn’t pay close attention to him. In the dream Vayden was a standard baby outline, yet had a glowing gold color, I suppose how you would picture an angel. Once I was awake I was un able to go back to sleep and I cried and cried downstairs. Last night was not easy on falling asleep as I laid in bed wondering if I should ask for some type of sleep aid to make it through these next 6 wks.
Before my appointment today I was upstairs curling my hair and started humming the tune, “you are my sunshine”. It made me think of Vayden, so I quickly spoke the lyrics to the song…then got to “you’ll never know dear how much I love you, please don’t take my sunshine away”. A tear came to my eye as I said to myself this is the song I will now sing to Vayden everyday and when I deliver him
