Saving Sam (Chapter 1.09): Packing on the pounds (or ounces)

Before we start another marathon evening of feedings, etc. (I think Elisa might let me take one for her...with a bottle.  Still not considering lactating, folks), I wanted to update you on some of Sam's happenings.  I will now lovingly refer to the five steps required to get Sam home.  They are:

1. Wean of the Nitrous Oxide
2. Pass the echocardiogram
3. Wean off the oxygen
4. Spend 48 medically uninteresting hours in the NICU
5. Come home!

I figured I could give you an update and let you know that we need some of your special thoughts, because tonight (as everyone else will be fast asleep), Sam will near milestone #1.  When I blogged last, Sam was sitting at 4 ppm and 34% oxygen.  At noon, they dropped him to 3.  At 6:00pm, they dropped his Nitrous Oxide to 2 ppm.  I'm happy to report that Sam is showing no signs of relapse up to this point.  He's holding steady with his stats, and they even dropped his oxygen by 1%.  He's comfortably sitting at 33%.  2.5 hours into 2 ppm, and things look good.  But Sam has two big hurdles left (the biggest is getting off the stuff altogether).  At 12:00am, he will be lowered to 1 ppm.  And then at 6:00am, if everything looks good, will drop to 0.  This is usually the toughest wean of all.  Let's hope my first blog post tomorrow is celebrating successful weaning.

I am already gearing my stomach, courage, and hope up for Friday, September 20th.  That's D-Day #2...Sam will get his fourth echocardiogram.  We're looking for two main things.  First, we want the pressure in his right ventricle to continue to be in normal levels (40s, 50s).  Second, we would LOVE to see progress with the slight right ventricle enlargement from Sam's poor little ticker overworking the first 4 days of life.  We were told at his 8:00pm feeding that the oxygen will remain until after the echo. But things are aligned to progress...provided that Sam continues to meet the challenge.  

Before I go (I told you I could be a little less verbose), I also have two other updates on his condition.  First, the bili lights are history.  Sam's bili levels were 14+ two days ago.  Yesterday, they had dropped to 10.  Today, they were 7.  Good enough for the doctor.  Sam now gets to wear cute little outfits and be swaddled.  I much prefer this, as I think the constant suntanning was putting the kid to sleep.  He was zonked every feeding we saw him while the bili lights were glaring.  

Second, we got an update on Sam's weight.  Weight gain is a very important sign of health, growth, and the body getting enough to function (and store a bit away).  Sam was born at 8 lb. 3 oz.  Through Monday, he was hovering at 8 lb 4 oz. or so.  It always was a bit of a worry, as I was afraid that all of his energy was going to breathing, etc.  I'm very happy to announce that at his weigh-in this evening, Sam tipped the scales at 8 lb. 10 oz.  For those of you unaware, Elisa is like the Costco of breast milk.  You know, you go to Costco needing a jar of peanut butter and you leave with a can that will last you until the end of the world.  Yep, that's Elisa and breast milk.  It keeps flowing like the Nile River past the pyramids.  Clearly, Sam's creating milk stores in his body.  And it gives me hope that if he's gaining weight at this rapid pace, perhaps his body is finally healing.  

I keep waiting for the other shoe to drop.  We've had a string of good progress with Sam, and I just worry that there's a bitch slap right around the corner.  I sincerely hope I'm wrong.  Every time the boys ask about Sam coming home, my heart breaks.  Every time I see the empty crib, bassinet, or car seat, I want to curl up into ball.  And I'm supposed to be the strong one.  It's good I have Elisa to hold me up sometimes.  I wouldn't know what to do without her.  

Brad