BOOYAH!!!

We have eyes! I got here this morning and after a while of eyebrow working out, we finally cracked those eyes. Inside those little eyelids are a rather bloodshot and tired looking pair of baby blues. They are curious...and as I peeked into the soul of this beautiful little boy that God gave me I started to cry again. He blinks and blinks trying to get them moist and open them further...as each hour goes by and he keeps trying, he is in fact getting them open further and further. I am sure I am a shadowy blur, but he is finding my general direction and not just rolling those eyes around-another good sign as far as "damage" goes.

His daddy came today with a couple prayer warriors from our church in Orangevale and I stood watching through the nursery window as these men with bibles laid hands on my little boy and prayed for him. It made me think how we'd been away from our East Valley Church too long, and Roseville isn't that far. We need to recommit to that. But it blessed me huge to see these guys ask God to continue His work on this little boy. Ollie then took a good peek at daddy-which made him very happy. More people are coming tomorrow to pray with him and it warms my heart. People still care, people are still pulling for our little boy.

He is taking 25ml feeds now, and the last one he took over 30 minutes instead of 45. That means his belly is tolerating the milk, no spit up, no left overs in the belly. He saw the speech therapist today that I had mentioned earlier. She was so so sweet, and so right online with our beliefs about feeding and nursing this little boy. We have started a plan in motion. Ollie was actually able to suck down one ml of breastmilk from a bottle. It's the tiniest amount, but he did not choke. He just gets very tired-and we have to remember he is sedated like crazy from the anti-seizure meds. They are going to check the levels of his meds today and probably make some adjustments. He is encouraged to suck as much as possible on a paci-daily skin to skin with mama...and both of those during feedings if possible. The therapist will see him daily and we will make small goals and continue to work with Ollie until he is feeding on his own.

He's still on 35% oxygen, and has shallow sometimes grunty breathing. Often his oxygen saturation will drop down into the 70% range and set off alarms. We have learned sometimes he just needs to clear his throat and swallow. Often he has opened his mouth and is not getting the oxygen from the tube that's in his nose. We have to close his mouth and make him nose breathe. Yeah, he's like his dad at 2am...mouth wide open, snoring, and shallow breathing. Not sure what they are going to do about that-if he's going to have some sort of respiratory therapy, if he will out grow it or what? Kinda at a stand still on that one.

As the day winds on, I think about tomorrow. Tomorrow is his second EEG. I am nervous. I see so much from him that says he is so normal. I don't want to know what that stupid test says. I don't want to get called into a room and listen to results and opinions, statistics and therapy. I just want to enjoy my baby boy for what he is. I'm too scared of the stupid results to even want to hear them. I don't want to go back to that place of shock and fear of what to do and how to proceed. I feel like I have vaguely adjusted to this life as it is and I don't want to rock the boat.

Tonight at 12:15 my little boy will be one week old. I can't believe at this time last week, my water had been broken an hour and contractions were picking up. I was sitting on my birthing/yoga ball at the foot of my bed. Will was about to walk in the door, and my whole family was home for the night. The midwife had come by and listened to Ollie in womb during a contraction and he was checking out fine. It will be on my mind all night, where I was, where we were this time last week. I have to stay tonight late so I can tell him happy birthday for the first time. He's one week old at 12:15. And today he gave me the present of peeking into his soul...my sweet little boy.

~~~update 3 weeks later~~~
I don't want to forget...sitting in that hospital, watching the three clocks on adjacent walls, all tick down the time to his birth. He awoke at 5 minutes til his birth time, crying. There was pain there. I cried too. The nurses were silent and gave me so much space. Tears rolled silently down my cheeks as I cursed the powers out of my control for this fate we had to walk through together. I clutched my baby so tight and whispered the first line of happy birthday in his ear. I decided the words weren't right for what we were walking through. I stopped. I whispered a different set of words. "I love you. I'm sorry for your pain. I will always be here for you. I wish I could take it away. Please keep fighting. I promise I will always walk by your side through tough times. I will love you always-more than all the stars in the sky." After 15 minutes or so he drifted back into a peaceful slumber. I left him in the hands of the nurses and slowly walked away. I could only put one foot in front of the other. All the way down the hall, down the elevator, down the long corridor and across the parking lot, tears kept streaming from my face. My eyes stayed down until I was safely locked in the truck in the dark parking lot. I sobbed outloud. I wanted to take his pain away more than anything. I wanted to rewind time and not have to walk through this. Knowing none of that was possible, I wanted to heal him as fast as I could so we could go on with life. I sobbed again at the powerlessness. I could do nothing but what I promised him. Love him. And walk through this with him. I went home for about 6 hours sleep and rushed back to be by his side, hoping he hadn't noticed my brief absence...I pray for a happier birthday in the future.