Life is better in photographs

Everyone’s been excited to see these cute pictures of Isaiah in his little outfits, showing off his chubby cheeks.

But the truth is, he’s had a bad week. Last weekend he got promoted to a less critical level of NICU care – all the way up to Pod 5 by yesterday, switched from cpap to a nasal canula (less oxygen) and they dropped his daily caffeine dose.

Apparently he didn’t like it.

He’s continued to have episodes where he forgets to breathe and has been dropping his heart rate too much.

So…now he’s been demoted back to Pod 3 (a half-step up from where we spent the first 6 weeks) and is back on the cpap and caffeine. (Insert joke about how of course my child can’t live without caffeine…)

The doctor said this is still within the range of normal for his age and he’s still on the small side for 34 weeks (now insert joke about how he’s my child). I know he seems so much bigger in the pictures, and he is, but that doesn’t mean he’s actually ahead of the curve. His doctor is also running some blood work to make sure he doesn’t have an infection just in case. He isn’t acting or sounding sick at all, but my other kids have been fighting a cold all week so I am a little paranoid about that, even though they’ve not been to the hospital since getting sick and I’ve scrubbed my arms practically to death this week when going to seen him.

And finally, we still don’t have a timeline for him coming home…and probably won’t for a while…but I’m guessing it will be at least 3-4 more weeks now, minimum. They aren’t going to send him home until he’s had a good run without breathing episodes and is off his oxygen and caffeine. Not that I even want him to come home till he’s got all that straight.

So there it is. I’m glad you all are encouraged and cheering him on from, well, all over the place. But please keep praying for the little guy and for us as we keep pushing through this. We are hopeful, but still have a ways to go and it’s, well, scary when the doctor calls to tell you your baby just turned blue, and you can’t get to the hospital for another 8 hours because of therapy appointments and work schedules.

Meanwhile, I sit at Amaya Papaya with one out of my 3 kids. Ava would love it here, by between her therapies and naps it almost never seems to work out for her. One day when I am struggling to handle all 3 of them at the same time I’ll have to remind myself that on days like this I wished I could just have them all in the same room.

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