Two steps forward one step back...

Girls you remember that song? Right?! Well that line from the opposite attract song is our theme for today...Not so much for Payson, but for me.

First, our precious Payson, today medically he accomplished two big things...They took his oxygen tube out and he was able to have his first small (less than a teaspoon) meal! Yea, Payson! He does sound rather congested, but they keep chalking it up to thick mucus. He has/is learning to cough up what the tube isn't sucking up which is good. Especially since the tube can sometimes become attached to the pouch and not do it's intended job! Once again today he was able to sun himself under the lamps, but let me tell you how much he hates...I mean hates...the sunglasses and hat that he has to wear when under the lamps. As soon as the head contraption goes on he starts crying and does his best to move away from it. It is funny at first how determined he is, but after a while it can just break your heart. He desperately hates that head contraption and as his mom all I want to do is take it off then reassure him he never has to wear it again. As if his day wasn't bad enough having to endure those lamps, plastic surgery came by and decided they needed to clean his head real good. This tender and raw scalp had to endure a good rub down of all the puss/scabs that had formed. The doctor kept commenting how nicely it healed and all I wanted to do was punch her in the face to make her stop hurting my boy! ARRRR! I think eventually I stepped between her and Payson just so he could catch his breath and have some relief. After she was done reapplying the lotion to his scalp they decided at that point to take off his oxygen tube...Another painful tape pull with harsh adhesive remover. It caused him to cry to the point of turning blue! I think this was the point I began to see stars; that is until they said ready mom. Oh, yeah let me get a hold of that baby! I didn't do skin on skin today, but held him in his little bed. He spent the next 10 minutes crying/whining before calming down in my arms. His monitors showed how content he was and if I had been monitored they would have shown the same thing!

During my time of singing, calming and reassuring Payson the good ole genetics doctor showed up. There is something nice about her showing up so much, but I dread what she has to say. Let's just say gently isn't a word they taught her when she learned English. Every time...I mean every time she has something critical to say. From her standpoint she is making observations about a case that is very interesting from my standpoint she is making comments about how imperfect my son (a living breathing human being) is. She said something about his fingers and I asked what was wrong with them and she told me there is a curve on his pinky finger. When I looked I laughed to myself and said well then that must be genetics because my pinky bows a little bit too and his dad broke his pinky finger and it bows a lot. Then she mentioned his small ears again and to be honest I didn't even notice them until she said something. They are small, but not that small. Plus, isn't that a gift. I mean how many comments have I heard about Obama and his satellites (sorry if I offended someone). Payson is lucky to have small ears ones I will kiss everyday! As if that wasn't bad enough she mentions his face, but says she really can't tell is something is wrong. I kept hoping she would just stop. Does she really think this is accomplishing something? Is it productive or is she speaking out loud so her resident can hear her thoughts? She isn't tactful and I have struggled with wanting to throw my shoes at her! As if she hadn't made me feel the size of a pea she mentioned his eyes and they might be small. What? Your kidding me! She said she needed to see his eyes open...just then Payson opens his eyes she bends down to observe them and says they are a little small. Dear sweet Jesus, keep my knee from reacting to her and letting my leg spontaneously kick her to the ground! Todd and I both have very small nose bridges and we keep thinking something is wrong with us with as much fuss as she has put into his eyes. Who measures eyes anyways? I mean if we were to get medical I am sure her eyes aren't so perfectly put on her face. I know mine aren't; just like my ears are not evenly placed on my heard and one boob is bigger than the other. Does this mean we are all genetically or altered by medicine? Needless, to say I stopped speaking and she finally went away not without being pushy about Todd getting her the pictures of Payson so she could begin to document this case. As if Todd didn't have 2500 ID badges to photograph, print and deliver or have other photo shoots or maintaining his business while his family is enduring the struggles of a lifetime. Seriously, you want them you wait patiently or you can pay for him to speed up his process, but BACK OFF!!!!!! As if that woman was bad the Neonatal Dr. comes in to remind me Payson will not be coming home anytime soon. He said that there was some confusion last week that he might be able to come home in between his operations. I told him that we knew and were refreshingly brought back to reality by his co-worker last week. Needless to say the stress and anger level in the room was thick...almost as thick as his mucus!

Since time was of the essence today I had to put him back before either of us were ready. Let me tell you, he made sure I was aware of his unhappiness and that everyone else on the floor was aware. There was no calming him down. Even after they put him on his stomach he moaned and groaned for a little while. I had to leave him behind while he continued to moan. It nearly broke my heart and I realized today was the start of a long, long struggle of wanting/needing to comfort my sick son and get home to want/comfort my healthy kids. I was torn and broken to leave him on such a bad note.

Now Me...precious me! (: Despite how positive it is, how much progress Payson makes, how much I get to hold him, how eternally optimistic my husband is...this sucks! All of it sucks! The whole damn situation sucks! Suck, suck, sucks!! This is where our theme comes in today! I was so happy with how yesterday went...thrilled thinking we got started off on the right foot with the balancing act and less than 24 hours later I am in the dumps with how torn I feel. Okay, so maybe Mr. Hormone has come into play a little bit. What a gift to be able to have his reliable presence during this time, but I have to think that some of this is normal. Right? Is the normal part the one where I am trying my best to be sweet one minute and the next wanting to wrap my fingers around someones neck or is it vice versa? I think normal and hormones have gotten together to try and trick me! (: As if it couldn't get any worse I feel like a cow who is leaking milk everywhere and when that stops my bottom half starts...Thankfully, God's and his amazing ability to cause so many wrong things into a funny event haven't stricken me with diarrhea. Dear, Sweet Jesus may you not find humor in that statement and give my husband a great laugh! (: Back to Mr. hormone and normal: I have spent the last day thinking about this time last week. If we had known this time last week what we know now would I have wished for him to come early? Would I have done anything different? Would the Dr.'s done anything different? What if I had waited not pushed for labor, not gotten the epidural would my contractions have stopped? If I hadn't gotten the epidural would they have eventually sent me home? Did I/they make a bad call? If I had waited would the outcome for me and Payson been better or worse? How could I have changed my situation into something so happy and beautiful instead of turmoil and tears? Why couldn't I have ended my child bearing days on a high note? Why didn't I push to make sure all was okay? Need I say more...If I'd only known and the desire to go back has haunted me. This all goes without even putting into play the grief I will have to do concerning this being my last child. I have been warned by friends that this process will come and it will hit like a ton of bricks so be warned! Despite very little time to dwell on it I have found myself sad that these days are over! That feeling of a kick for the first time, the happiness that surrounds a birth, that proud moment when your child is placed in your arms, the excitement of finding out you were going to add another little one to this world...Goodness gracious, I am a mixed bag of emotions!

To end this long, long post I wanted to say an informal thank you to Donna! Today, I received a package in the mail from my cousin Roy and his wife Donna and it was a little gift for Payson. In all the madness I had forgotten that we can still celebrate his arrival despite the sadness his medical issues have caused! So, thanks for reminding me and being so sweet to send little Payson a gift. Good idea on the sizes too! Thank you so much!