Trauma is not a word that I like to use, but in this situation I can’t think of a more appropriate one to use. Also, I am not always sure how well I “deal” with it, but I do live with it. The fact of the matter is that my husband and I are traumatized by everything that has gone on. I don’t think a day goes by where I don’t think, at least once, “Am I going to have to take her back to the hospital?” Sometimes this thought occurs because the future is so unknown. Sometimes I have it because we are having a bad day. But, the thought is always there.

There are defiantly some triggers for both my husband and I. The two that come to mind are a poor PO (from a bottle) feeding, and throwing up. When Lyra is only willing to take a small amount from the bottle it flashes me back to desperately trying to get her to take just a little more, and knowing that it wouldn’t be enough to sustain her. Now, I know that she has the NG tube now and she WILL get the nutrition/calories that she needs. That doesn’t stop me from remembering being in tears and begging my baby to “just take a little more” because I knew her tiny body was in desperate need of calories and hydration. It doesn’t stop me from remembering how helpless I felt when I would bring the much needed bottle to her mount, only to have her scream and refuse to suck from it. Most of all, it doesn’t stop me from remembering how defeated I felt when she threw up what little we had managed to get in her.

Throwing up is the other major trigger.

Now, she does still throw up. I get that all babies throw up from time to time, but when you have a failure to thrive baby with a history of feeding issues, it can induce an anxiety attack every time it happens. When she throws up now, all that I can think is:

“What did I do wrong?”          “Did I move her too much/too quickly?”          “Did I push her to take too much from the bottle?”          “Did I start the NG feed too quickly after the PO feeding?”          “Is the NG feed too fast?”          “Did she get enough?”         “Will she keep her next feeding down?”

“Will I have to take her back to the hospital”

On and on and on…….

Now, I know that not all of these thoughts are productive. Sometimes, I did nothing wrong at all. But that doesn’t stop me from thinking some (if not all) of theses when it does happen.

The other thing I struggle with is hearing her cry, especially in fear and/or pain. I know her cries for fear and pain very well at this point, and sometimes I hear them when they aren’t actually happening. Knowing that she isn’t actually crying is a big reason why I don’t like to be in a different room than she is, especially when it comes time to sleep. Even if I am taking a nap and my husband is home, holding her, I swear I will hear her cry and it will send me vaulting out of bed. Tonight was a great example of what I struggle with.

Lyra was fussy most of yesterday (plus she threw/spit up three times). For the midnight feed she did not want to calm down and was very upset through much of the NG feeding. Sometimes, if she is too upset during the NG feed, she throws up. So, my husband and I spent the 25 minutes trading off trying to calm her down without picking her up or accidentally having her gag on her pacifier. Finally, we got her to fall sound asleep at the very end. Rather than risk waking her up in the transfer to her bed in our room, we decided to leave here in the nursery with the video monitor on. Laying in bed, I could swear I heard her crying. I could hear it building into real distress. Opening my eyes, I looked at the monitor only to see her still her peacefully sleeping always. However, even with my eyes open and watching her, I swore I could still hear it. Moments like this make me feel crazy and are hard to acknowledge and talk about, but they happen. I know why the fear is there and the moments that caused me to develop such anxiety about those two types of crying, but knowing and controlling are two very differently things.

For now, we are dealing with our trauma the best that we can. For me, I have to keep reviewing the signs that tell me that she is okay. I also try to find tools, like the monitor, to help show me that she is okay. When I start to panic, or fall apart, about some of this, my husband tells me what I can’t tell myself. I do the same for him when he starts to lose it a little. Right now, we are still a team.  We try to recognize when one of us needs a break to regroup, or words about what is different (and so much better) about having her home this time. At this point, we have had her home for the longest period of time yet. As the days go by, I hope the anxiety will decrease. But for now, the best I can do is admit it is there and deal with it by using the few (but powerful) tools that I have.

Lyra’s first 4th of July.

Pink, white and blue was the closest I could get with the cloths that fit her.