What a day

It's late and I'm sleepy! And I feel like I'm getting a little sick. Annoying not only because being sick sucks, but because when I go to visit Cole I have to wear a face mask. Preemies are super susceptible to infection and because their teeny immune systems don't really exist yet, every measure that can possibly be taken to ensure their safety is taken. Obviously. I actually feel guilty going into the NICU feeling sick, but the doctors assure me that the mask cuts the protective mustard. It's still annoying and uncomfortable to wear though.

This morning we were told that Cole was having too many spells, and we found him on the ventilator again. They say that this is typical and is not a step back in his development. I believe them, but it's impossible not to feel like he's struggling, and that makes us sad. What's strange is that different nurses and doctors use different language to describe the cause. Some say it's because he gets tired, and some say his brain just hasn't developed enough to support his lungs properly, and some just say it's like tuning in a radio and they have to find where the station comes in clearest. I don't know which of those responses is more assuring, but it doesn't feel like either of them truly does the trick. So he's back on the ventilator; think of that what you will.

We also visited him this evening and were told that his spelling had totally dropped off now that he was on the ventilator. Hooray! We were feeling all congratulatory until he started spelling like crazy while we were there. Like constantly, his heart rate just dropped and came back up and dropped and came back up and dropped and the nurses came in and fiddled with him and the respiratory specialist came in and fiddled with the ventilator and with his tubing and it was fucking gut wrenching. Wasn't this ventilator thing supposed to stabilize him? Didn't they just say he was stable? We were scared and confused. Eventually it leveled out and we left because it was dinner time, and because we were both a little exhausted and nerve-fried from watching Cole slip into and out of his spells. When we got home we called up the NICU and asked them for an update. They said he was doing just great and that they had pulled a giant booger out of his throat. Jesus christ, as if we didn't have enough to worry about, now he's got mutant killer snots? That's not cool. But at least it explained the episode we witnessed while we were there, and they said they'd monitor him much more closely for blockage from now on. Thanks!

That's about it.

Kate and I are a little excited and scared about a procedure he shall be enduring tonight while we are snug in our bed. They have been feeding him his IV and transfusions through his belly button. That's just plain cool. Unfortunately, belly buttons don't last forever as a perfect painless method of delivery; they only last about a week. Seeing as tomorrow is Cole's 1 week birthday (hoorays!), they have to install a peripherally inserted central catheter. The doctors' hip name for that is a PICC line. Way cooler right? The PICC is like an IV for you and me, but since their veins are super teeny, they have to feed the line all the way up the arm and into the chest, right near the heart. I don't know how the hell they do that.

Belly button IVs are awesome, but the drawback is that they are fragile. They are held on by tape. Literally. The PICC line is hugely superior in this regard; it is very sturdy, and the baby doesn't really know it's there. What that means is that we can now pick him up and hold him close and snurgle with him. We are SUPER pumped!

Work tomorrow? Eeek.
Good night!