Part 8 - A Year in Holland - Mason's Homecoming

While in the NICU, Mason had a few more turning blue episodes, he started refluxing and choking, and had to remain prone (i.e., on his belly) at all times. Any time he was laid flat on his back, he would choke and stop breathing. It was absolutely terrifying to see my baby struggle to breath like that. I felt so helpless. There was nothing I could do.

Sometimes a cleft can be indicative of other abnormalities. He passed all of his screenings with flying colors, but they heard a heart murmur on Day 3 and wanted to make sure it wasn't anything to be concerned about so they ordered an echocardiogram. I have a history of heart problems in my family so I didn't mind being extra careful in this department.

It's funny, when the man came up to the NICU with the EKG machine, I looked at him chuckled a little. He looked like a football player. His hands were the size of my head. I said to him:

"YOU do EKGs for all these little tiny babies? But you are so BIG!"

He didn't mind my comment and he just smiled and said:

"Yes, I do. I love my job."

We laid Mason on the table and the football player's hand covered his entire torso. I held Mason's hands, trying to keep him calm and still while they looked at his beautiful little heart, and the football player said:

"There is nothing like Mom to keep a newborn calm. It's really quite amazing."

Suddenly I felt less helpless. I was doing something after all. After months and days of feeling totally and completely helpless, I was grateful for his kind words.

The EKG went great and it was determined that Mason's heart murmur was nothing to be concerned about. I cried when they told me, relieved that we had dodged one more bullet.

Mason had to meet several conditions before he was allowed to come home: 1) he had to be eating well 2) he had to go 48 hours without a de-saturation/breathing episode and 3) he had to pass the car seat test.

Passing the car seat test meant he had to be able to sit in his car seat for two full hours and keep his oxygen level above 90. His eating was coming along and he had not had any breathing episodes since Day 2 so we were positive he was going to pass the car seat test - we were so close to taking him home! So, we put my little 6 pound 9 ounce guy into the huge car seat and began the test. I sat with him the entire time, cheering him on, and with only about 20 minutes to go, his oxygen level dipped.

He failed. I was devastated.

That bought us two more days in the hospital.

Andrew and Lia were really upset. They missed me, their routine was completely interrupted, and they wanted their baby brother to come home. They wanted our whole family under one roof. It was really hard to have to tell them we had to stay two more days.

But, stay we did. And in retrospect, I think the extra days really helped Jamie and me feel that much more comfortable caring for Mason. We got extra practice feeding him, we got to know him better, learned how he needed to be held, how he needed to be changed, all while under the supervision of some of the most fantastic doctors and nurses in the state. They also had me watch an infant CPR instructional video and gave me a doll on which to practice. I had taken infant CPR 6 years before but I was grateful for the refresher.

At 7 days old, Mason took the car seat test again and passed! He could come home! We were excited, scared, nervous, and elated, all at the same time. They gave us a sleep monitor and told us any time he wasn't in someone's arms, he should be hooked up to the monitor. The monitor measured oxygen level and heart rate. If he stopped breathing, the alarm would go off.

So we packed up all of his stuff - his special needs nursing bottles, all of his paperwork, diapers and blankets, his sleep monitor and the sticky leads that plugged into the monitor and onto his chest - and headed home. After months and months of anticipation and waiting, we were bringing our third child home at last.

I won't lie, I cried the entire ride home. As eager as I was to bring him home, I was also completely and utterly terrified to take him away from trained nurses and doctors. What if he wouldn't eat for us at home? What if he started choking? What if he turned blue? Would we be able to care for him? Will Andrew and Lia be scared if they see their brother choking? Of course, all of these questions lead to the same, horrible, place in my head, the thought I couldn't say out loud: what if he died? I couldn't, WOULDN'T, let myself say it.