Out of Intensive Care
Jacob improved. It was a grand day when he was wheeled in his crib out of the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit and into the regular Children’s Hospital. He still had red little cheeks and looked pretty rough, but to me he looked perfect.
Only immediate family had been in to see him, and we had not allowed the girls to come. Seeing their brother in such a state would have been too much for them. Relatives sent well-wishes, cards and prayers. My cousin sent him a little monkey to have in his bed. We were able to relax.
The day we went into the regular children’s unit I got hit hard with a bad migraine. My mom stayed with Jacob while I went down and got IVs to bring it back under control. I came back up and Mom stayed while I finally slept.
I learned that the care in the PICU was very different from the care he got in the regular children’s hospital. I wasn’t overly impressed with the nurse that night, but the girl on the next shift made up for it. I was and am so very thankful for the team of doctors and nurses that saved my little man. Everyone played their part and if they hadn’t he wouldn’t be with me today.
It was a big day when we were able to bring him home two days after he was released from the PICU. He wasn’t allowed to go places, or have visitors, and it would be a long time before he could return to a regular life and schedule, but I didn’t care. I declined my job offer, knowing they weren’t going to wait for me. I broke down and filed for county assistance. It was a huge blow to my pride, having to ask for help when I had always made it on my own. I didn’t have a lot of choice. Jacob couldn’t go to daycare and I couldn’t work. I needed to provide for my family however possible.
This was not Jacob’s last stay in the hospital. In fact, he was hospitalized six times by the time he was two years old. I learned to monitor oxygen levels and listen to his lungs and throat. I learned when to load him up and fly to the ER as fast as I could. He was placed on four maintenance nebulizers a day, something that we have only recently been able to discontinue, and start again with each cold or sniffle. He had/has rescue nebulizers on hand. He has steroids on hand. I became very capable of handling his respiratory problems. His big sisters pitched in, they learned how to give him his medication, how to check his oxygen and when to worry. After he spent his third time in the hospital within a few months of his first, I moved back home with my mom and dad for help with him. He never had to go back into the PICU, but I remained in a constant state of fear while he slept at night. We stayed with them for three months, until the renters moved out of my home, and then we came home for good.
MOMMY ON EDGE 
Oy he is so adorable I just want to give him a huge hug! He is a strong one indeed!
He is. He is ALL boy. He is stubborn and ornery and I spend most of my time trying to get him into the bathtub to wash whatever he has managed to dump in his hair, or his ears, or stick up his nose off of him. Then he will turn around and throw his little arms around my neck and say, “I LOVE YOU MAMA! YOU’RE THE BEST” and I completely melt. He has his sisters and myself wrapped around his little finger!
I saw the word “boy” defined the other day as: A noise with dirt on it.
It couldn’t be more true!!!!
Today you wouldn’t know he had an issue unless you saw him when he had a cold, and only then because of all of his breathing treatments. As a matter of fact, I rarely even have to remind him to slow down anymore. I think the doctors were right, and he may just out grow this. He had he adenoids out last fall and it helped immensely.
One day at a time!
Your boy is going to be tough as nails when he grows up.
And he’ll have the compassion he learned from his mom.
Well, he is on the right track to being tough. He DOES think he is a superhero. Today it is Batman I guess. I DO hope he grows up kind and sweet. He certainly gets a lot of love and cuddling (he is probably quite spoiled) from the girls and I. I just hope he NEVER follows his father’s path.