Riding the Roller Coaster

We went to visit our little Crew-ton this morning. He looked especially adorable. He was being a good little breather today, not very lazy at all. I was so proud of him. As far as the medical update goes, he has a mucus plug that has caused one of the lobes in his right lung to collapse. They've propped him on one side and will continue to suction out his lung until the extra secretions drain, hoping to avoid infection. The sooner we can get him off the ventilator, the better. He's been processing his milk so well for the last several days. They always pull up the remains from his stomach through the feeding tube before giving him another feeding. While I was there this morning they pulled up his breakfast and it was all green and unhealthy. "Very common, very common in babies this sick." Ugh, I get so tired of hearing that. Maybe it will resolve itself in a few days, maybe they'll have to discontinue feedings altogether for a while. So this morning was kind of a downer.

I had my first breakdown in the NICU this morning. Everything just kind of came together all at once. I was disappointed by the setbacks with Crew and concerned for him, I was really missing Dex, missing Kinley and Tanner who are always farmed out to hither and yon, and just feeling so tired from all that has gone on. Then I went to the pediatrician's office to pick up immunization records for Tanner so that he can visit the NICU. I felt the need to inform them of Crew's existence so that the doctor can follow his progress. That, of course, led to a discussion on his birth, his brother, etc. Apparently, while I am very comfortable talking about what happened to Dex with someone who already knows about him, I still can't cope very well with being the informant. Incidentally, our doctor happened to be at the hospital when the boys were born, seeing another patient. He knew the story, but didn't realize that they were our sons. Then I went to the mall for lunch to try to decompress. We walked in the door and some song was playing on the radio. I have no idea what the song was, but the chords were so melancholy that I completely lost it in the lobby. I sat in Winger's and just cried for a long time. Did you know that if you look pathetic enough, you can get free wings?

Some hours are just hard. As far as dealing with the loss of Dex, last week I was surrounded by the beauty and peace of some of the intimate, comforting moments of the whole experience. A week later I have to face the reality of him being gone and sometimes I just miss him too much. I think Justin said it best. Last Monday was a watershed moment for us. There was life before last Monday and there is life since last Monday.

I've found that the most difficult things are "the firsts". I have so many "firsts" to get through. Looking down for the first time and seeing my feet in the shower at the hospital was a particularly difficult moment. As much as I have looked forward to sleeping on my belly again, I haven't been able to do it yet because in some way it feels like a betrayal to the boys and to the process that was supposed to bring them here safely. I find myself not being able to rejoice about my rapid weight loss because I'm still supposed to be nice and plump through the New Year. I cried during the Amazing Race on Sunday because that was the last tv show we watched before we went to bed and our life changed. I cried the first time we said family prayer together after I came home from the hospital, as soon as I sat down in the rocking chair that was always reserved for my big, lumbering behind. So for those of you who seem to think that I'm so strong, I'm giving you a peek behind the curtains of what goes on sometimes.

I've discovered through necessity of dealing with some of the daily grind that things are easier after the first time. I just find that I'm not prepared for how difficult so many of the "firsts" are going to be.