PooGrin | Work at home mom blog – WAHM blog

Memories that still haunt me

Posted on 04. Jan, 2010 by Andy Ptacek in Guilt

Yesterday, my son Tavin had the slightest case of chapped lips and as I put my finger out to feel them, I had a flashback that hit me like a ton of bricks.

When Tavin was born, I was breastfeeding him, or so I thought. At the hospital he was gaining weight and all seemed well, but when we brought him home, Tavin was starting to get angry during feedings. He would bite and hit my breast and cry and cry. His lips began to chap and when I asked, doctors told me that was common for breastfed babies… so I continued to breastfeed as planned.

The process was never seamless, it took a few sucks for my milk to let down, but once it did the milk fell out of me without coaxing. Even still, Tavin began to refuse breastfeeding. Simultaneously, we received a call from our pediatrician letting us know that she had a bed waiting for Tavin in the NICU and we needed to drop everything and take him to the hospital because his bilirubin results from earlier that day had reached 18.

We raced to the hospital functioning on auto pilot and as soon as the doctors took over the tears came pouring out of me. They checked his levels again only to find he was at 23, a stage where hearing loss became a concern and two points away from needing a transfusion.

The doctors began to believe there may have been a utero complication that was causing his levels to continue to rise (I think it had something to do with the fact that I was RH negative) so off they sent me to be admitted to the hospital and even drew my blood in the hallway on my way to sign the papers. I had to walk what seemed like miles behind a fast paced nurse. Just days ago the hospital deemed me to be transported by wheelchair and now I was practically forced to run a marathon. I had nothing left in me but more tears… and a lot of cramping afterward.

As I tried to find my way back to my family in NICU, I realized that I left in such a rush that I didn’t have my cell phone and there wasn’t a white coat in sight to ask for directions. I eventually made it back to my husband and my son who had been turned into a glow worm in the meantime (that’s him in the picture above). He was sleeping peacefully with those little sunglasses on and I prayed.

Soon, my blood results came back and there seemed to be no complication in that respect. The doctors concluded that his jaundice had reached this point solely due to dehydration. My baby was starved and his lips were the telltale sign… and I didn’t even know it. I balled with guilt. I had almost killed my baby and he could now be deaf. How was I going to live with myself and how am I going to make it as a mother?

As I sat for the second day in the NICU, the lactation consultant came to see me to try to get Tavin back to breastfeeding and see us in action. Before long I removed my son from what seemed to be a traumatic experience for him and told her that I will not be breastfeeding. She continued to push the issue and to that my response was, thanks, but no thanks.

When we returned home, I was pumping and pumping and Tavin was eating and eating and getting better and better. Still, every time I sat alone in my bedroom pumping for 20 minutes, every two to three hours, I could only think about how I let my son down and the ritual became increasingly depressing. I managed to stock up enough milk to last Tavin until 3 months of age. At that point, my husband urged me to stop for my own sake. But it was very hard on me to do so because I felt like I owed it to Tavin after all I put him through to have the best nutrition possible.

Tavin ultimately switched to formula and I ultimately started to forgive myself as Tavin thrived. When we took him to the audiologist to have his hearing checked at 6 months, he passed with flying colors, a true moment of relief. Still, as I write this post, the tears sneak up on me.

Babies definitely don’t come with directions, but through this experience I’ve learned to trust my instincts more.