David and I were told we had a sleepy, but healthy baby. Go home and work on nursing and it would all be OK...but it was not.
The situation did not improve. The baby remained sleepy and our anxiety, tension, stress and level of fear all sky rocketed. Our baby was not waking up to feed. He was sleepy, so sleepy.
The watch alarm would go off, David would try to wake baby up - doing everything from undressing, tickling, cold water on toes, and the "doll" hold. Nothing worked. While David worked at stirring the sleeping baby, I would pump and set up the supplemental feeding kit and get ready to feed. David would bring the sleepy baby to me and I would struggle to get him to latch. Frustrating. Heart breaking. Stressful.
Upon declaring defeat I would "finger feed" the sleepy baby, only to have him vomit that precious milky gold. David would be off in the kitchen sterilizing the pump stuff and getting the bottles ready. Exhausted, we would take baby and lay him in his bassinet, then collapse on the couch and just as we would drift off, the watch alarm would go off. David would shuffle off to go wake up baby for his next feeding. Frustrating. Heart breaking. Stressful.
After 98 hours of pure hell, we trusted our instincts and rushed our newborn baby to the Children's Hospital of Eastern Ontario (CHEO).
We just knew something was not right. Our nine day old baby was not well.
CHEO was amazing. They whisked us into a large, sterilized, fluorescent lit examination room. They knew something was not right.
The commotion around this little seven pound baby was terrifying, yet calming. The room buzzed with organized chaos as vitals were taken and questions asked. I stood at the head of the gurney, stroking the baby's little head, as professionals attempted to "get a line". Frustrating. Heart breaking. Stressful.
Then a nurse placed her hand on my hand, leaned forward and in a gentle, but firm voice said, "Mommy, he needs you to be strong. Hold him and comfort him. He needs you".
I moved to the side of the bed, picked up my baby, my David Joseph. I cradled DJ. I rocked DJ. I held DJ close. And as DJ settled in my hold, I had my first Mommy Moment.
Loving. Calming. Grounding. I realized then and there that I was a Mommy. That DJ was mine to love, protect and comfort. And I vowed to do just that.
This post was inspired by a post by Liz at Mom- 101. Her post about having, or rather, wanting a Mommy Moment is superb. Thank you Liz. Love your blog!