the journey begins

when reece was born and they laid him in my arms, I marveled at his perfectly round head and his soft, full cheeks. he was the smallest of our three boys at exactly eight pounds.  he seemed so tiny to us, but by no means was he a peanut. his weight put him in the 67%ile.  he was "a nice size baby" according to everyone.  we  clinic for our quick weight check just a day after being discharged, we got a "he's right on track, good work!"  for some reason our doctor asked us to come back the next week just to check in.  I'm not sure why, because typically they say "see you in two months."  clearly God was watching over little reece.  when we went back a few days later, the nurse practitioner noted that he hadn't gained enough weight.  she asked us to supplement his feedings and return in 72 hours for a follow up weight check.  three days passed and he still wasn't packing on the pounds as they expected.  we started fortifying my milk with a little formula and supplementing his feedings.  after a week of that he had barely gained anything.  I can't tell you the disappointment and feeling of failure as a mother when you lay your tiny newborn son on a hard scale and the numbers do not read out the way you had hoped and prayed they would.

we went another week and came back on may 16th.  I will never forget it.  our doctor opened the door and simultaneously set a box of kleenex in front of me while saying, "robin I'm going to have to admit him to the hospital."  what?  why?  at one month of age, reece was still 3 ounces shy of his birth weight.  he had gained from his lowest weight of 7 lbs 5 oz, but he should've easily surpassed that in four weeks.  something wasn't right and we needed to admit him for further testing.  I held it together, while our doctor started to tear up. by the end of the appointment, I was sobbing.  how could this be? what's wrong with me?  am I not able to feed my baby properly?  does our precious little baby have a serious medical condition?

I drove away from the clinic and made a phone call to kyle to keep him updated. it wasn't until I set foot in my mom and dad's front door and saw my momma that I fell apart. (what is it about your mom that makes the waterworks flow?). she and I drove to the hospital and waited an eternity to check in and get brought up to our room. good thing we rushed. we were admitted and then continued the waiting game.

we waited for the doctor to come in and then waited for the team to arrive to draw blood. I must tell you that watching these highly skilled medical professionals poke a needle into your baby's itty bitty arm is heart wrenching. especially when the vein blows up like a balloon and they have to poke the other arm too. I have a newfound respect for the mommies and daddies out there tending to the serious medical needs of their precious little ones. you are my heroes.

the doctors asked me to pump to quantify his milk intake. result = my milk supply was low. another blow to this momma's confidence. prescription? pump, pump, pump. take the hospital pump home and use it for a month to up the milk supply. lack of milk was hard to swallow, but I could come to grips with it. however, his diapers were still "funny" and I quickly learned that the professionals are on to something when they say "don't google that." the number one thing that pops up when I googled "mucus stool and failure to gain weight" was cystic fibrosis. scary stuff. we know he didn't test positive for that in his newborn screen, but there are always false positives.

a momma is meant to be with her children, so being away from my other two "babies" was difficult. fortunately, kyle was able to stay home from work to be with them. I'm the luckiest girl in the world to have such an amazing and supportive husband. the super daddy brought the big brothers up to visit reece a few times. they love him so much.

after a two day stay in the hospital full of many pumping sessions, formula supplementations, and weight checks, reece was given the go ahead to move home and continue on his quest to gain ounces.

subsequently, he and I moved in with nana. I'm not sure I'm physically or emotionally equipped to nurse, bottle feed, and pump my newborn while parenting a two and almost-four year old. who, by the way, joined us for our "sweep-overs" at nana and papa's.

to be continued...