Thursday 8/10

Today marks twenty five days in the NICU.  Twenty five days of our family being separated.  Twenty five days of three hours driving, six hours at the hospital, four hours pumping, and still no baby at home.  Twenty five days of emotionally and physically exhausted...and she is still not coming home.

It's frustrating.  Every nurse keeps saying to get ready at home because we are so close.  The nurse practitioner saw her last Saturday and said "I'm thinking 7-10 days" and on Monday changed her mind and said "I know I said 7-10, but it's likely going to be closer to 3-5."  It's not.  The more they keep saying she's close, the more excited we get.  We've prepared the house, all of her things are ready...and she is still not coming home. 

"You are asking her to do something that she is not supposed to be doing yet," the nurse reminded me tonight after she only took half of a bottle and had to be gavage fed the rest.  I still don't understand.  She has to take 8 full bottles within 24 hours for two days to go home.  Yesterday, she took 7 and 3/4.  You read that correctly, 7 and 3/4.  Since the 3/4 isn't a whole, the 24 hours starts over again.  And I guess I'm glad it did, because today, she only took 2 bottles.  "It's like you've never been asked to run before, and you've just run a marathon...you would be tired too.  And it's ok...she's just being a preemie."  The nurses are so encouraging and helpful, but I'm drained. 

I really wanted her home by her first month milestone, for completely selfish reasons.  I have the cute stickers to attach to her onesie to take the cute photos to document her each month over a year.  We are getting dangerously close to that mark, and I'm just not sure it's going to happen.

She was doing so well, she was our rockstar baby.  She still is a rockstar, it's just another reality check I guess.  Two steps forward, one step back...