Tuesday, April 28, 2009
Thursday, April 23, 2009
By the next morning I was ready to go downstairs. Very sore from surgery, anxious and scared out of my mind, I entered the NICU not sure what to expect. I scrubbed in for what seemed like the longest three minutes in history. 4A, 4A, 4A, Justin was carefully pushing me in a wheelchair and we were looking for room 4A. There it was. There were three beds in that room, Joshua was in the last bed on the left. He looked beautiful. Much, much bigger that all the other babies in there. I almost didn't notice all the tubes and leads. I decided then and there that I wasn't going to let this get the best of me. I was going to conquer Joshua's situation with knowledge. I had the nurses explain everything to me. Why does he need this? For how long? How do you care for it? I wanted to understand each and every tube and surgery site. Maybe it was denial, maybe just a coping mechanism? I don't know, but it helped. I couldn't get caught up in the terror of what could happen. I had to take it one day at a time. His recovery wasn't an option, it was going to happen. How long it would take would be my only unknown.