Actually, I know what else you can do. You can watch this video and then look me in the eye and tell me you didn't smile.
Tuesday was a bad day.
We waited until the afternoon to go see Ainsley. We got there at around 1 and got to see her for a few minutes. It was great because a couple friends stopped by to see her and also gave us delicious cupcakes and a whole bunch of beer.
About a half hour later, a tech showed up to take a head ultrasound. Which was fine. I had no desire to stay for that, because my itty bitty doesn't like anyone touching her unless they intend to hold her. And I don't like to see her cry.
So I went to pump, and Mark came with me. This is when the horror started. The horror being: First Postpartum Poop. I know this is out of character for me? But I'm going to totally spare you the details, except to say that IT DID NOT GO WELL.
About an hour later (because Postpartum Poop: SERIOUSLY, IT DID NOT GO WELL), we went back to the NICU to see Ainsley again. Mark took the cupcakes and beer to the car and so I was alone. I asked the nurse for the daily update, and I can't remember what else she said, but the update included, "she's really pale."
Now...this was just an unfortunate choice of words. Evelyn was really pale. That was actually the thing that my OB pointed out about her when we talked about what possibly went wrong. He said he didn't see anything unusual when he examined her, except that she looked really pale.
Just as I was getting this update, alone in the NICU, ANOTHER tech with another machine came in to do another test on Ainsley. And I had been there over and hour and had barely seen her, and we only had a babysitter for another hour.
So I did the sensible thing: I lost my shit.
I lost my shit so badly that I went running from the NICU with snot running down to my chin (for I am an ugly, ugly cryer) and locked myself in the restroom while I had a real chest-heaving woe-is-me type cry, complete with groaning and awful faces. It was an award winning performance.
I left the restroom when I thought I had it together. But then some serious white trash asked me when my baby was due as soon as I opened the restroom door, and I started crying again. I just kept walking toward the NICU and pretended not to hear.
Wouldn't you know it? The lady and her daughter (?) followed me right into the NICU.
She: Oh! You already had a baby!
Me: * sob * Yep
She: What did you have?
Me: * sob sob sob* a girl
She: What did you name her?
Me: I'm sorry, I just don't feel like talking right now. * sob wipe snot off boob sob *
She: Wow, you're a real bitch!
IN THE NICU!!! As in, they have a baby IN THE NICU AND CALLED ME A BITCH! They followed me all the way back, and kept going after I went to Ainsley's room.
You guys? I admit it. I'm a bitch. Like, a really big one. I'm not an overly nice person and I am bitchy pretty much all the time. But this time? This day? Not at all. I was bawling, no exaggeration. I have no fight left in me right now. I was totally nice. And...who sees someone bawling their eyes out and thinks that's an appropriate time to ask me when I'm due and then drill me with questions about my NICU baby? You'd think of anyone, someone else with a baby in the NICU would understand.
Then the nurses heard me telling Mark what happened and went to find them and then asked if I wanted to call security. No, I did not. I wanted to go home and take my percocet and drink beer. And if I'm being quite honest, a cupcake. Percocet, cupcake, beer, the end.
And I seriously could not get my shit together. I cried for about three hours that night. It was very serious. Mark almost drowned in the mucous from my nose because I ran out of tissues but not snot. How does that happen? Where does all this snot come from?
(Well...not asshole snot. I'm calling snot an asshole.)
Anyway. That was my first bad NICU day. I'm sure it won't be my last.
But then today? Today was a good day.
Ainsley is a little NICU trooper. She's breathing on her own. She's slowly gaining weight. They've increased her feedings every day and is digesting them with no problem. She will be off the bilirubin lights on Friday or Saturday. She will have her PICC line removed Friday or Saturday.
Every doctor and nurse says she's feisty. That, or that she has attitude. But she does love to be held. You wouldn't believe how much we love her.
One Year Ago: Ghosts of New Years Past
Two Years Ago: Jennepper's New Year's Rockin Eve
Three Years Ago: Goodbye 2007