Homecoming

The night before we went into the hospital D was woken from a sound sleep by a voice calling "Daddy."  When he got out of bed and went to check the girls they were sound asleep and so his nerves were put in edge. When we woke up and the baby inside was not moving as much as expected, the nerves from the night had him prodding me perhaps more than he would have to just go to the hospital just to be sure instead of waiting until lunch. He didn't tell me this until the doctor had already said we were staying. Thank goodness we went in. For all the complications with the delivery and then after I just don't know.... And can't think about it, I'm so thankful for little voices that whisper something's wrong.

And as it turns out I had to get a blood transfusion.  I'd lost half of my blood volume during labor. My blood volume after my c-section was a 7.5 or so.  By the next morning it had fallen to 5.9, which is dangerously low.  I had terrible time breathing and staying awake.  I was dizzy when I sat up and had a pounding sound in my ears.  My complexion had an awful white pallid appearance, even my lips had no color. Sometimes choices are made for us without us really having any opinion in it.  So I spent 6 hours on Thursday getting a blood transfusion from a donor.  

By Thursday afternoon I had more color, more energy and the room stopped spinning. By Friday morning the pounding in my ears was gone, my chest didn't hurt to breathe in the smallest gasps of breath, and I wanted to go home. The doctors however were not consenting and now Evie was starting to look yellow with jaundice and her bilirubin levels had risen some. 

By Saturday, today, I was ready to leave with strict orders to start piling on the foods rich in iron and to "do nothing" for at least 2 weeks. Evie has been released to go home but a nurse has to visit our house in the morning to check her levels again and she already has a doctor appointment for Monday morning. 

After we signed the discharge papers for Evie I cried. She really was coming home with us. A butterfly flew up to my hospital window and fluttered across the window pane and off again. She'll forever have an angel. In my wheelchair chariot out of the hospital with Evie in her car seat on my lap I cried again. The combination of happiness at the reality of bringing Evie home and memory of leaving Gabraella behind there is something that cannot be given words. How can such extremes of relief, happiness, anxiety, anticipation, sadness, and thankfulness be present in a heart at the same time?

Sitting in our recliners at home with her in front of us sleeping peacefully the relief caught both of us, and the anxiety we had from this week ran for just the briefest of moments down both our cheeks. Nothing about any of the last 2 years has been easy. I'd go anywhere and do anything with him.  

I do want to mention that the care and kindness of the nurses at Sisters Hospital was absolutely beyond any standards I had previously set.