Happy Easter

The Easter Bunny came on Sunday morning to our house and also to Samuel's hospital room. Eggs were hidden and gifts were received. Samuel got a blue stuffed bunny that is bigger than he is. My boys are all curious as to how the Easter Bunny got past the doctors and nurses since they are there with Samuel all night. I had no good answer for that one.

We all spent the afternoon at the hospital - my family of six in Samuel's little hospital room. This lasted a brief period before the three big boys were taken outside to run their sillies off. This was successful enough that we finally had some photos of Samuel with his big brothers.

Daniel holding Samuel for the first time.

Zachary holding Samuel for the first time.



My four sons. (The deviousness in Jakey's eyes will indicate why there is no "Jacob holding Samuel for the first time" photo as yet.)



Easter supper was at my Auntie Maria and Uncle Gord's house with the Borbridge family. My aunties were glad to finally be able to get presents for this newest nephew and this was the cake that my lovely Auntie Maria had made up.

Yes, light up the world, Samuel. :)

There is no explanation for the array of symptoms Samuel had a few days ago. It may be a case of "better safe than sorry" applied to some normal baby behaviour. Samuel went back on his feeds this morning - a slow drip that will increase very gradually so as not to shock his tummy. The sepsis cultures all came back negative so the antibiotics were stopped and the IV taken out of his scalp. I think they will keep the PICC (central line) in this time just in case. Our poor little bloke has been poked so often in his short life that it's now extremely hard to get blood or put an IV in him. It was several tries before they got the scalp IV; he had several of those in his ten-day NICU stay but no haircut was required this time.

I spend every moment I can cuddling Samuel now. I have thought many times about what this start in life must be like for him - the pain and procedures and aloneness and the many, many drugs. The interventions alone carry their own kind of trauma but I think also of the lack of touch and comforting, the disconnection from his mama and daddy and brothers, the inability to communicate distress and get an appropriate response, the not feeding and having a full belly, not seeing and hearing normal things.

People tell me that he will not remember and I know that is true on a conscious level. But of course this beginning has an impact that we will likely never really understand. I spoke with Dr. Ferrin today and he validated my belief that the hospital experience is difficult, even traumatic for children and that they need attention to that in order to recover.

Before I got pregnant with Samuel, I developed a keen interest in early attachment, trauma, and neuropsychological development. Sometimes I wish I didn't know those things but Chris pointed out that maybe I did that learning so that I could help Samuel heal in ways that go beyond medicine, in ways that require a mama.

So I hold him for sometimes a couple of hours at a time where he has my heart beat and breath and warmth to nurture him. I whisper that it's okay, that I am here, that he is welcome in the world. I stroke his head and sing. I notice him seeming over-stimulated by the environment of his hospital life and think it must be hard to make sense of the world from here. I cup my hands around his face and make a little space just for us. Yesterday when I did that, he gave me his first for-real, unmistakable, eye-locked baby smile.

Wrapped up in mama.