It all started really on Saturday night, when Ryan began dropping his O2 sat WHILE his oxygen was still in place. He drops it frequently when his cannula pops out of his nose while laying on his side to sleep, but this was different. We turned his oxygen up, thinking it would help, but it didn't do a thing. For about 2 hours, his O2 sat alarmed every few minutes, and then spontaneously was better.
Father's Day festivities were a bit much for Ryan I think, but he slept fine and didn't have a repeat performance from the night before. We were thankful that we weren't seeing a trend.
Yesterday, he was awake very little and when he was awake, not very happy. (My first day home with him as Chris went back to work). It was difficult to see him cry and to be the only one to "try to make him happy". Then, night came, and Ryan was ready for bed at 6:45, about an hour earlier than usual. I talked to the Wing's nurse last night and she said that he probably had a "mucous plug" the other night and he had just worn himself out with everything. She also said, if he continues this trend of sleeping a lot, we should consider this a change. We should be sure each day is a day we could live with as our last with our little boy.
Then, the night came. We crawled into bed at about 10:45pm but my mind could not shut off. It was racing into thoughts I didn't even know were on my mind. I spent half the night just grinding and clenching my teeth, wrinkling my brow over thoughts that wouldn't leave me. I know that I saw many minutes of the hours 11, 12 and 1 AM. And then, around 2:30-3, Ryan was alarming, *(O2 sat and heartrate drops) and was agitated and crying. The other half of the night, I spent in his room. After several attempts by Chris and myself to readjust, change diapers, turn on mobiles, suction, change drool pad under his head, I walked myself in to hold him, thinking he was just awake. He was happy for about 5-10 minutes, looking at me bright eyed. They were moments of pure contentment for us both, eyes locked on one another.
And then, as I can always predict when I try to hold and cuddle him, the crying turned back on. It is so hard to not be able to hold him when he is upset and make it better. That is what mother's do. My role as a mother for him has to be opposite. When I want to hold him closer, pat him more, FEED him, sing to him in his ear, fall asleep together in the chair, I am forced to put him back down, stand by, and simply pray he will find comfort from someone much stronger than myself. And that is what I did, I nelt next to his crib and prayed and sobbed. Finally, after Ryan couldn't settle for several minutes, we gave him some medicine to ease him off to sleep. I didn't leave his room until he was fast asleep. I wanted my face to be the last thing he saw. I prayed for him once again and wearily crept back to bed. Somewhere around 5 AM sleep finally found me and our son.
Chris, thank you for getting out of bed, even though you work today, to help. Also, thank you for getting Charlotte off to school by yourself and letting me sleep.