Recovery

Ok guys this is when its going to get really intense and the pictures are pretty hard to look at.

After we got back from dinner Shaun and I rushed to the CICU to see Brighton. Before the surgery we had been prepared on what we we would see. They explained that she would be extremely swollen because of how the body reacts to being put on the bypass machine and the trauma. They also told us to not be afraid of al the tubes and wires coming out of her. They did everything they could to prepare us, and even took us to see a baby that had just came out of surgery.  I remember standing over that baby and thinking "this isn't so bad". Oh you naive mind.

We walked in the room and went to the sink to washed up feeling like my stomach was full of concrete. We walked over to her stall and saw our beautiful baby girl. Only she looked nothing like our beautiful girl. She was so swollen and almost unrecognizable. I stood next next to her and stared, scared to touch her. I started to feel dizzy so I grabbed a chair and sat down. I touched her hand and her skin was so tight it almost felt like it might pop from the pressure. Then I looked under the cloth and I felt the panic attack come on. I told Shaun I was going to let Deb come in and more or less ran off the unit. When I stepped outside I felt like I couldn't breath. I blamed it all on peeking under the cloth to where you could see her heart but, it wasn't that. It was everything. I just needed a minute. Shaun came out and gave me hug asked if I was ok and I remember forcing myself to not cry. No more crying, my body cant take anymore.

We decided to run to the hotel to grab our things so we could stay the night in one of the "sleep pods" the hospital offers. Mostly I needed some time to regroup. I started to feel guilty that I lost it and that I just ran out on our little girl. She was completely helpless and in pain and I couldn't pull it together. We got back to the hotel and I sat on the bed and bawled... the ugly cant breath type cry. Shaun just held me and kept saying this is the bad part, it will get better. I so hoped so.

We got back to the hospital  put our stuff in the pod and said goodbye and thank you to my parents who were headed home the next morning. After they left we took a few minutes to truly pull it together. I had talked myself up enough that I felt like I had it. I stood up straighter and just overall felt stronger. I had this. I can be strong for her. No more running away.

We walked in and I noticed that there were a bunch of doctors standing around her and staring at the monitors. NOOOOO. As we walked to the stall they obviously could see my concern. They immediately started explaining things and I felt like they were talking waaayyy to slow. Get to the point guys, is she ok?  Her heart rate had started to race to really scary high pace. They gave her some type of medication to regulate it, but it wouldn't bring it down. They had just pushed more as we were walking over so now they were waiting to seeing if it would drop. Hence the monitor staring. Well it did. But only a little.  I kept looking back and forth between the doctors and the monitors. They were so calm, this was no big deal to them, how are they so calm? Soon the monitors started to ding and we saw her heart rate begin to increase. I almost lost it again. No running. You can do this Syd. Now I was glued to the monitors and could feel my chest get tighter and tighter with every beat Brighton's heart made. Then a doctor looked at me and obviously noticed how concerned I was His exact words were "please don't look at the monitors and worry. We will watch for you, that's what we are here for" I'm pretty sure I will never forget that, it changed everything for me. I learned in one sentence, to trust the doctors, to let them do their job. They weren't stressed about this because this WAS their job, this was just another day in the office.

That night we stayed up till 2 or 3 just staring at the monitors and trying to talk the nurses into covering her up with a blanket. (being cold makes the heart rate drop). The nurse that night was a cute little lady from Ireland that told us stories of Brighton beach in England. "its a beautiful beach, you picked a perfect name" Eventually she talked us into going to bed and so we did. I think I slept for a couple hours then woke up and wasn't going back to sleep. I got and went to Brighton's stall where I sat by her and tried to warm up her little body as much as I could switching from one hand to the foot to the others over and over.

The next few days were a blur, little by little her little body started to take over again and she stopped relying on medications and machines to keep her alive. Her heart rate dropped so they weened her off that medication. Her heart started beating on its own so they weened off her pacemaker. Seeing her progress was amazing. She was doing amazing. We were so happy.

The CICU is a really rough place. They actually dubbed it ICU Psychosis. Sadly 1-3 babies pass away weekly in the CICU and sadly, I experienced that a couple times. I started to feel guilty that Brighton was doing so well. It wasn't fair that I was happier and other families were still having such a rough go. The staff is really good to try and keep it away from the other parents and patients but because everything is so open, you see the chaos.  Each time I would look back to Brighton and just long to hold her, to see her wake up. I know one day I will have to go back into the ICU and I know its going to be extremely hard. Im pretty sure I have hospital PTSD... is that a thing? Yesterday (2 months later) I went into the ICU to pump in their room and felt sick to my stomach. Those poor families. Those poor babies. I then ran out and didn't ever make it to the pump room. Maaayybe later, or never that's fine too.

The next week is a blur now, I wish I wrote about it as we went but life was still a little too upside down then. I remember being moved to the CSU and feeling guilty that we were graduating. I felt horrible walking past the other families. I was jumping up and down inside but tried my best to not show it. When we got to the CSU I let my smile go and started asking over and over is i could hold her. The nurses were probably so annoyed. Finally they took out the last few wires which made it safe for me to hold Brighton! I remember scooping her up and taking a seat in a wooden rocking chair and feeling like I had no idea what to do. Do I just sit here? Is it safe to hold her for as long as I want? Can I move? She's so fragile!

Shaun and I took turns staying at the hospital and seeing Carter. When discharge day came around (a week later!) We were truly shocked and even tried to stall a little bit. Finally the staff literally told us we needed to go so we stuck Brighton in the car seat and headed for home. We were going home. 2 weeks later, 2 draining weeks later, 2 horrible weeks, but 2 blessing filled weeks later we were going home.