I'm a day late, almost two days late on this post. It's about eight thirty at night and Thanksgiving was yesterday. Our Thanksgiving feast was last weekend while the Tiny Mighties' grandparents were visiting.
We have great friends and family who have given us such wonderful support. They wonder where we get our strength from when they're the ones who help keep us strong.
We have wonderful neighbors who barely know us but treat us as if we've lived here twenty years whether they've met us already or not.
We have strangers who we've never met, will likely never meet, who have donated money to ease our financial burden.
We have each other. One's weakness is another one's strength. And while I like the pie filling, he likes the crust. Doesn't that work out perfectly?
We have two little boys who are giving it all they've got to be here and become big, fat healthy babies.
They're in a NICU who have amazing expertise and a staff that treats our boys like someone special to them.
We have a roof over our heads, food in our bellies, full hearts and two babies that are currently feeling good enough to fuss at us over their diaper changes.
The doctor had talked to us about wanting to get the Tiny Mighties off the ventilator as soon as possible. She felt it would be soon.
"Even Wyatt," we asked and she nodded.
We walked in today just as Cameron was giving the NICU team one heck of a stink eye. He'll close one eye and glare at you with the other as a warning.
Today, they took away one of his machines!
They had just pulled out his breathing tube and his lungs are doing so well, he skipped CPAP and went straight to what's called "high flow". His nose doesn't get the pressure like it did with CPAP. Breathing is completely up to him, which scares us to death due to his apnea spells. We stayed with him for hours to make sure he was okay. He was feeling well enough to throw temper tantrums over care time.
He likes to hold his breath when he gets mad and waking him up to change his diaper makes him angry. He loves his sleep! Once he holds his breath, his oxygen saturation drops, his heart rate slows, and he makes everyone worry. He does it on purpose. What a stinker.
Sorry, Superman, but you can't save the world with a wet and dirty diaper.
With his cares done, he was allowed to drift back into a peaceful sleep.
Mr. Wyatt had his last day of antibiotics today. I'm so proud of him. His ventilator settings are really low. The rattle in his lungs is still there, but so much better. They think his secretions will resolve once his breathing tube is out.
We had snuggles today. He never did sleep during his snuggles. He was awake the entire time, but it was a good "awake". He was calm and quiet. He'd look around the room, look at his dad sitting next to him and simply enjoyed his time.
Did you know, despite being born so early, he can nearly lift and turn his head? That's why I'm holding his head because if he did that, he could pull his breathing tube out. What a strong little man!
At one point, he finally stretched his arm up like he does when he's ready to go to sleep.
It's another good day. This is the longest stretch of good days we've had and I hope it keeps going.
Way to go boys! We love you lots XOXOXO
No comments:
Post a Comment