A year ago today, Eric came home from the NICU. He was released a day early and I called Cris to let him know. I remember being so afraid that they would change their minds. As soon as they said he could go home, he was loaded up into his car carrier and we left. We barely even said goodbye to anyone. We practically ran out the door as fast as we could. We were not giving them a chance to change their minds.

We had already spent a couple of days sleeping in the parent's room getting used to not having monitors and nurses to aid us. Eric was still on oxygen and we needed to make sure we knew how to do everything ourselves. It was both very scary and very liberating. Scary because we would not have that safety net anymore. Liberating because he was finally OUR son. We no longer had to ask permission for every little thing. We could finally be his parents instead of just the people who came to visit him.

Today Eric is one year old adjusted. His due date was August 28th. One more year and we can stop adjusting his age. We do this for developmental reasons. He is still a preemie and we were reminded of that when he went in for his surgery. While most of his problems are not severe, he will still carry the problems of a preemie for the rest of his life.

We still have to go into Lockdown this year. His pediatrician doesn't think he needs the Synagis shots since Eric's lungs seem to be perfectly healthy. One more year of Lockdown is still advised for preemies until they are past the age of two. Lockdown simply means we have to avoid crowds and people who are sick. We will need to keep the house sanitized from outside germs. Since Eric will not be getting the RSV shots, we are going to be extra careful as a precaution.

Still, the year has passed with Eric doing incredibly well. Thankfully most of our fears were not realized. As a micro-preemie we were warned repeatedly that Eric could have so many long term issues. Cerebral palsy, autism, learning problems, constant illness, just to name a few. He may still have a learning disability and he does have lower scores on the cognitive tests. However, between that and the feeding tube, these things are small in the big picture.

To look at him today and then look at the pictures when he was first born, it is a reminder how far Eric has come along. That tiny little baby that I could hold in one hand is now a chubby and inquistive toddler. The only thing that has never changed is his fiesty stubborness. That strong will that got him through NICU will get him through the rest of his life. It is so easy to remember the little babies that didn't make it.

Cris and I have nothing but gratitude for the pediatric nurses and doctors who took care of him in and out of the hospital. For the support of our friends who called and came by, for those who asked how he was doing, letting us know that we were not alone. For the divine goodness in the universe who answered our prayers. For the little baby who beat the odds in so many ways.

Thank you.

Inspire - Inspire connects patients, families, friends and caregivers for support and inspiration...

Prematurity.org - Preemie Baby / Preemie Child / Preemie Parent Support

CafeMom - has several groups for supporting preemie mothers and the special problems that come with it.

Preemie Parenting - A comprehensive list of offline and offline support groups

So, after the pain and drama of thrush, poor Eric has a new problem: TEETHING. I guess the little guy just wants to do everything early! Thanks Sunny, for your help diagnosing it and your advice. The teething tablets are working pretty well so far. I'll freeze some washcloths tonight for him.

He's back to just breast milk. The experiment with rice cereal and yogurt, failed miserably and we quit after a couple of days. Eric has a serious gag reflex and we never knew what would trigger it and cause him to throw up. It is better for him to be small and let him eat at his own pace, than to try to supplement and have him not grow at all because he is throwing it all up. I don't mean just a bit of spit up either, I'm talking everything that is in his stomach.

Eric is pretty stubborn and will let you know what he does and does not like. He had plenty of people shoving things down his throat, pricking him with needles and other atrocities in the beginning of his wee life. Now that he has a voice, he has decided he has had enough of all of that nonsense and he's not going to take it anymore!

You should see his face the moment we step back into UMC. He knows where he is and just hates the world until we leave. It doesn't help that his blood gets drawn each time either. Last time it took 3 nurses to hold him down while a 4th took his blood. As for when we went to see the NICU Santa, forget that! He would not smile at all, not even for the nurses that had taken care of him. However, the nurses were happy to see him and some posed for pictures with him.

During labor, the NICU doctors and nurses had set up a warming bed for Eric. When they finally let me push, Eric was born after only 3 pushes. He was born still and had to be resuscitated. He cried almost immediately afterwards. The NICU staff wrapped him in cellophane so that he would keep warm and rushed him to the NICU. I was given a brief glance of him before they took him away. Since they needed to get him to the NICU as fast as possible and I was still in the last part of labor, they tilted us both up so that I could see him. I just broke down in tears seeing this baby, the tiniest I had ever seen. It is hard to describe the fear and sadness that overwhelmed me.

Cris was able to go see Eric after two hours. He used my cellphone to take pictures of him for me since the staff didn't want me moving just yet. Eric was bruised from head to toe.

The nurses finally decided I was in good enough condition to leave my room after several excruciating hours. I was put in a wheelchair and rolled out to the NICU with an IV in my arm. The nurse let me kiss Eric's tiny feet although Cris was hovering nervously the entire time I did it. It is very sweet how quickly Cris became so protective towards Eric. At the time however, I was annoyed by him refusing to let me touch Eric even though the nurse said it was okay. I needed to touch Eric, to reassure myself, to make a physical connection. Unfortunately, with all of the drugs inside of me, I wasn't able to hold him. My whole body was shaking so bad I could not even walk. It would be another month before I would finally be able to hold Eric in my arms.

I couldn't sleep that night. My mind just wouldn't shut down. I was numb and dazed. I had no idea how I would manage to find the strength to get through this.

The next day after Eric was born, we called our friends and family and let them know. We decided to treat Eric's birth as a celebration, as a reason for joy instead of fear and worry. Our friends Scott, Jackie and Erica came while I was in the hospital and helped me to celebrate my first Mother's Day with balloons and flowers. The next day, on Mother's Day, Cris's family came to visit Eric. I was in the hospital for almost 48 hours so that they could monitor me. They let me stay in the 8th floor instead of transferring me to the 7th, which is what they normally do. The 8th floor was where Eric was and I wanted to be as close to him as possible.


Leaving the hospital was extremely hard. I had to put my faith in people that I had never met. I had to trust these strangers to take care of the most precious thing in my life. The experience was just too weird. It was hard to wrap my head around having given birth, but no baby to bring home. Life was just so off-kilter and every once in awhile, I would catch myself still talking to my stomach, to the baby that was no longer there. The only thing that made it real was the pumping of the breast milk. I did it religiously every 3 hours. It was the only thing that I could do for Eric. It was the only thing that kept me from feeling so helpless.

For Cris, it was donating his blood and going through all the red tape to make a direct donation. These times were very hard on Cris. I could make milk and spend the whole day with Eric. Cris would feel so helpless. He couldn't do anything to make things better. Cris received most of his updates on Eric second-hand. When he was at the hospital, I made sure that Cris would be able to hold Eric as much as he wanted to. Cris would try and give him back to me and I would have to remind him that I was able to hold Eric all day. It was his turn now. Even now, Cris takes every chance to hold Eric in his arms.

For the 109 days that Eric was in the hospital, we never missed a day. We made sure that he always knew that he was loved and never alone. Cris managed to take a couple of weeks off after Eric's birth. When he had to go back to work, he would drop me off and then pick me up after he was done working. Usually we would try to get there early so Cris would have an hour with Eric at the least. The days that we didn't get there early, we would stay later at the hospital, after Cris got off of work, so that Cris was able to get his "Eric fix". There were many times we did not get home until well after midnight.

I'm still amazed that we survived this. There were days when both Cris and I just wanted to curl up in a ball and just pretend none of this was happening. But we got up everyday and went to the hospital. It was never an option not to. I'll never understand the parents who left their babies in NICU until they were done "cooking", never once visiting. It was probably easier for them not to get in too deep until they knew for sure their babies were coming home, but Eric stole our hearts the night he was born. There was just something so deeply precious about him. If Eric could fight so hard to survive, to constantly be poked and prodded, to live in the noise and organized chaos that is the NICU, the least we could do was be there for him. To give him touches that weren't painful, to sing and read to him, to hold him and comfort him, our job was easy compared to his.

To those who have asked how we managed to find the strength, I still don't have an answer for you. We just got up every day and went to the hospital. There were days that nearly broke us and there were days that made it all worth while, until finally there were more good days than bad. It really is an emotional roller coaster to have a child in NICU. It is one of those things that puts you through the fire and tempers you. It colors your perspective and changes everything. It makes certain things seem so trivial and others so precious and bright. It makes you aware of the smallest miracles and you never again take anything for granted.

Little Wookie is sleeping peacefully on my chest at the moment. Today's excitement must have worn him out. It's times like this when I get stupid and think I may actually want to have another child again. It will be a couple of years from now of course. Before, I just could not see it. Pregnancy was a completely miserable experience. The only good time was when I found out I was pregnant. We had been trying for 7 years. I had been told that I would not get pregnant without lots of medical intervention. Cris and I decided on the adoption route instead. We had finally gotten to the point where we were setting up the baby room, and getting the house ready for a home study, when we found out.

My period wasn't starting and I knew from prior experience, the best way to start it again was to do a pregnancy test. So here I was, waiting for another crushing disappointment, when the stick showed me pregnant. I showed it to Cris and we just stayed in shock for the rest of the night. It was a nice positive, no-mistaking response. The second one after that, same thing. Cris wouldn't believe it until we went to the OB/GYN and she confirmed it. I must admit that I was afraid this one would come out negative, dashing all of the hope and joy that I had just started to let myself feel.

Things were not to be easy. At exactly 7 weeks of gestation, the troubles began. My body tried to miscarry my little guy, twice, sending me to the ER each time. Each time, the doctors were expecting me to lose him. I did get a picture of Eric at 7 weeks old with his little egg yolk sac right next to him. He was the size of a blueberry at the time. I ended up on bed rest for the first 3 months trying to keep Eric inside.

The doctors think that it was the blood from the attempted miscarriages that caused Eric to be a preemie. It was probably a good thing in the long run for him, since the bleeding was acting as an irritant, and could have eventually separated the placenta from the embryonic sac. One of the doctors told me that is probably why Eric was so tiny, he wasn't getting enough nutrition with the placenta beginning to separate. Other preemies born at 24 weeks were at least 1 lb 3 oz, but Eric was a smidgen under a pound. I shudder to think what could have happened if he had gone full term. There were so many clots behind the placenta, that Cris told me he was "scared shitless. Omigawd, not only am I going to lose my son, I am going to lose my wife".

As for the debilitating pain, the doctor at the birth said that I had a tilted uterus. I'm not even sure how that is even possible. I had planned on talking about the pain to the OB/GYN on the next visit. What I did not know at the time, was that my water had broken on Monday, a very slow leak that we thought was merely pregnancy incontinence. On Thursday, very mild contractions started. Since everything else was early, such as Eric kicking at 15 weeks, I merely thought it was Braxton-Hicks. It went away after a couple of hours. Friday at around 2 pm, they had started up again. This time they were so painful and coming so frequently, Cris called the OB/GYN and she immediately sent us to the birthing center.

At the birthing center, they put me on a monitor to check if I was actually in labor. The monitor didn't show anything, not even a blip. Cris started timing when I said I was having contractions and they were 3 minutes apart. Still, the monitor showed nothing. Finally, after about 40 minutes, they did the finger test to see how far I was dilated. I was 3 cm. The birthing center went into emergency mode. Cris heard a nurse say that there was no way they were delivering a 24 weeker. Northwest Hospital is a Level 2 hospital. I needed a Level 3.

They filled me up with Magnesium Sulfate at Northwest trying to stop the labor. Magnesium Sulfate has the side effect of making you feel like you are being microwaved. At UMC, they gave me more MS. They did another check on Eric's status. The reason Northwest monitors couldn't detect the contractions? There wasn't any amniotic fluid left. I was given a steroid shot to help with developing Eric's lungs, increasing his chances of survival. Usually a person needs 2 shots in a 24 hour period. The MS wasn't working, they tried Morphine, as Morphine can also stop labor or at least slow it down long enough for me to get that second steroid shot.

My body wasn't ready for labor, it had never had the chance to prepare for this. The stress of the birth, both mentally and physically, was exhausting me at this point. The room's temp was set to freezing since I was burning up with all of the MS inside of me. I knew he was coming and it was breaking my heart. I was losing the child that I had prayed for. To come so far, only to have my body betray me. I had felt him move inside of me. I had seen him on the ultrasounds. I knew he was a boy. For godsakes, we had named him. He was a person, not just some abstract thing. After an Epidural, which did not work, Eric was born that day at 10:14 pm.

Cris and I talked about it before the doctor arrived. What would we do if Eric came today? Should we ask them to try and save him? It was probably the hardest decision I had ever had to make. Before that day, both Cris and I had read an article about babies who were destined to die and articles on preemies having so many medical problems that their quality of life was extremely poor. It was the article about the preemies destined to die that won out. In the article, it talked about how parents chose to save their children, just to have a chance to say goodbye.

So we decided, whether it was a lifetime or just a day, we wanted as much time with Eric as possible. Eric was born at 450 grams. The cut off weight for resuscitation is 500 grams. The attending doctor did not want to resuscitate Eric. She thought it was hopeless to do so. Eric's chances were 20% for survival. She was glad that Eric proved her wrong and chose to live by his own rules, instead of what is says in the medical books. Even coming home 1 week before his due date, is against the rules. Most 24 weekers stay in the hospital weeks after their due date, which is one of the reasons they would never give us a date for when he was coming home. They thought Eric would be in for so much longer. After all, that is typical for 24 weekers.

It is in awe, triumph and a deep profound love, that I glance at my sleeping angel. His face is so sweet and peaceful. He doesn't know yet how wondrous he truly is. Cris and I have become so much closer watching our little miracle grow. Sleep-deprived and emotionally drained, we hold him closer, thankful for every moment.

He has also had hearing test and it looked to be normal. The only thing we are waiting on now is the eye exam.

PS. I fixed the comment section so it will no longer make everyone go through a validation process. Thanks for bringing that up to me Eileen!

Eric made significant progress yesterday. He gained 2 oz and is now 5 lb and 7 oz. Since he is doing so well on the nasal cannula, they lowered it from 1.5 to 0.8.

The SNS is working out well. We decided to just do baby-led feeding where Eric decides how much he wants as opposed to upping it little by little. The day before yesterday, Eric really wasn't that into it. Yesterday, he decided to surpass expectations. He was able to down 40ml of the 45ml for the first feeding, too tired the second, and then 35 for the third.

One of the reasons that he is having problems, very common in preemies and sometimes in terms, is that he needs to learn how to suck, swallow and breathe and the same time. He is starting to get the hang of it. It just takes practice and patience. Later on we will re-introduce the Adiri bottles, to be used while we are not there. Adiri bottles are specially designed to prevent nipple confusion and help with nursing. This way Eric will be taking all of his feeds by mouth.

1. Fear - Nothing has ever scared me so much. Fear of the unknown, uncertain of the future, afraid when things are going well because they can always get worse. Afraid to hope.

2. Helplessness - In the beginning, before I got used to them, I would look down at my son. All of those tubes and wires coming out of him. I would just burst into tears. It broke my heart to see him that way. It is hard to stand back and watch others mothering your child, knowing more than you what is best for him.

3. Patience - Waiting, waiting, waiting. Waiting for Eric to have a good day so I can touch him. Waiting a month just to hold him. Waiting for him to breathe again. Waiting for his heart rate to go up. Waiting for them to move from the ventilator to CPAP to nasal cannula. Waiting to take him home. There is nothing to but wait. Growing babies can't be rushed.

4. Love - Spending every day with my son, touching his little toes and feeling them curl into my fingers, those are the moments I lived for in the beginning. Even now, I just need to hold him and feel his body close to mine. It reassures me that this isn't forever.

5. Frustration - 2 steps forward, 1 step back. Rinse, lather, repeat. It is a roller coaster ride of the emotions.

6. Gratitude - Every day is a blessing that my child is alive and is doing well in the NICU. Since I have been there, 2 babies have died, many have had setbacks and need major surgery, others aren't progressing very well. I know a few whose lives hang in the balance even now. It makes Eric's setbacks easier to deal with.

7. Happiness - Eric smiling when he is asleep. Feeling his hand wrap around my finger. Eric learning to reach for me and crying to be held. All of these tiny moments are cherished memories of a child who shouldn't be.

8. Awe - It is amazing to look back at the pictures of Eric. From less than a pound when he was born, to 5 pounds and 1 oz, as of today. He has fought so hard for his life and to be where he is now. He is amazing to me.

9. Hope - Finally getting that feeling that he could come home, that someday, instead of leaving him at the hospital, he can home with me this time.

10. Living in the moment - When we got the prognosis of Eric only having a 20% chance of living past the week, Cris and I decided that we would take each day as it came. We took picture after picture. No matter what came, we would cherish this day.

11. Strength - I have learned that even in my weakest moment, I am still stronger than I ever thought I could be. Watching Eric struggle and fight, keeps me strong. He keeps me going on the toughest days, smiling when I want to cry. How can I be weak, when he is doing all of the work? Eric is my joy, my inspiration, my hero.