Home, Sweet Home

I apologize for the delay...

Thanks to a life-saver of a nurse, Keira and I were home by noon on Saturday. This was after quite a few firm talks with various physicians. For whatever reason, K had a different doctor each of her last 3 days in the hospital. Each seemed to have his or her own treatment plan and the last two thought "just a few more days." They were worried, in part, that she wasn't eating enough. However, Jeff and I noted that they could never just let K rest for longer than an hour or two at a time. Plus, they would do things haphazardly such as giving her her Ativan, then not getting around to warming a a bottle for her until 30 minutes later. You wouldn't eat your bottle either if you were basking in that glow. So, in the end, I promised to keep the NG in Keira's nose "just in case" and to bring home a few doses of the meds to finish up her detox. 

Fun fact: Neither Medicaid nor Blue Cross covers Methadone, but the 7 doses cost my dad all of 53 cents. 

I was elated to bring Keira home. I felt like I was getting away with something when I drove her away from the hospital. I felt like I could breathe for the first time in two and a half weeks. 

Keira gave us the most wonderful gift that day. When I sat down with her in her nursery, she smiled and then started to laugh.  Really, really laugh. She was squealing with glee and was simply delighted. Her eyes sparkled and I understood the meaning of a person "lighting up the room." Keira was startled and overwhelmed, of course, by her own volume and soon became unsettled and cranky. But, she has laughed like that two times since. The best part is that I cannot capture a picture of it for you. Her laughter is so connected to us that she won't keep it up for a camera (Read: Not autism, not autism, not autism). 

What is fascinating to me is that somehow through all of this mess, Keira matured. Something in her oral-motor processing something-or-other clicked and now she can cough, she can really laugh, and she can cry (no more discontented meowing). She also discovered her hands and stares at them in fascination or brings them to her mouth. 

I SLEPT this weekend. That's about it. When I was awake I generally felt like I wasn't any good to anybody and should just go back to bed. 

I returned to work today. It was not so bad as I had expected. It felt good to be doing something I could sort-of control. Of course, it was wonderful to come home and squeeze the bejeebers out of my little girl and share a chocolate rose with my sweaty little boy.