As you all know, Az and I's son has been born, although there's a few minor corrections I need to make to what my bro said. Joran was born 8/31/05; he was 5.6lbs and 18 1/2ins long.
I also want to thank anyone who either said a prayer or cast a spell for his health. Our son is as healthy as he can be for a 6wk preemie, and god was he born with a set of lungs that he uses quite frequently.......LOL.
The first 2wks of Joran's life was a living hell for Az and I, especially me. During those 2wks, that damn hospital became my permanent home. I LIVED there 24/7. Because Joran was so premature, the nurses had to keep him in an incubator, so we were only allowed to hold him 30mins every 3hrs. He had a feeding tube down his throat since he couldn't suck or swallow yet.
That first week after his birth I went into that nursery EVERY 3hrs ON THE HOUR. As I sat there and watched him, I felt my heart break. There he was, laying before me in an incubator with a tube down his throat, and even though he was eating quite well, I literally watched our son, all our hopes and dreams rolled into one tiny creation, slowly waste away as each day passed. Then he became severely jaundiced and the nurses had to put him under a billy light to bring the level down.
The stress of it all was starting to hit me at that point, and the depression Lee helped my break myself from came back to break me at full force (aka "post-partum depression"). I broke down god knows how many times because of getting kicked out of my hospital guest room, the post-partum depression, not being able to hold Joran whenever I wanted to. Every time I walked by a woman's room and heard a baby cry, I got depressed and cried.
My depression got so bad that Az would take me to the mall or somewhere else to get me out of the hospital for awhile, but he quickly learned that because of my deepest worry and concern for our son, I couldn't be away from the hospital for more than 30mins before I really got depressed.
Even though I may make it sound like I was the only one who cared or worried about Joran, I wasn't. The first place Az would go the instant he got off work was straight to the hospital, and he'd stay there until he had to go to work. My mom would come over every extra moment she had. My sister came over every spare moment she could squeeze out of her busy schedule.
Well, after all of the heartache and emotional shit I went through, our son was released from the hospital the 12th of this month and has been home for a week now. It's taking me a lot of time to learn our son's personality, and the same goes for him, but we seem to be managing quite well. I do have some difficulty feeding him every once and awhile, but that's to be expected. The emotional and spiritual bond we shared while he was still inside me has grown to encorporate a physical bond, one that can't be broken....
I also want to thank anyone who either said a prayer or cast a spell for his health. Our son is as healthy as he can be for a 6wk preemie, and god was he born with a set of lungs that he uses quite frequently.......LOL.
The first 2wks of Joran's life was a living hell for Az and I, especially me. During those 2wks, that damn hospital became my permanent home. I LIVED there 24/7. Because Joran was so premature, the nurses had to keep him in an incubator, so we were only allowed to hold him 30mins every 3hrs. He had a feeding tube down his throat since he couldn't suck or swallow yet.
That first week after his birth I went into that nursery EVERY 3hrs ON THE HOUR. As I sat there and watched him, I felt my heart break. There he was, laying before me in an incubator with a tube down his throat, and even though he was eating quite well, I literally watched our son, all our hopes and dreams rolled into one tiny creation, slowly waste away as each day passed. Then he became severely jaundiced and the nurses had to put him under a billy light to bring the level down.
The stress of it all was starting to hit me at that point, and the depression Lee helped my break myself from came back to break me at full force (aka "post-partum depression"). I broke down god knows how many times because of getting kicked out of my hospital guest room, the post-partum depression, not being able to hold Joran whenever I wanted to. Every time I walked by a woman's room and heard a baby cry, I got depressed and cried.
My depression got so bad that Az would take me to the mall or somewhere else to get me out of the hospital for awhile, but he quickly learned that because of my deepest worry and concern for our son, I couldn't be away from the hospital for more than 30mins before I really got depressed.
Even though I may make it sound like I was the only one who cared or worried about Joran, I wasn't. The first place Az would go the instant he got off work was straight to the hospital, and he'd stay there until he had to go to work. My mom would come over every extra moment she had. My sister came over every spare moment she could squeeze out of her busy schedule.
Well, after all of the heartache and emotional shit I went through, our son was released from the hospital the 12th of this month and has been home for a week now. It's taking me a lot of time to learn our son's personality, and the same goes for him, but we seem to be managing quite well. I do have some difficulty feeding him every once and awhile, but that's to be expected. The emotional and spiritual bond we shared while he was still inside me has grown to encorporate a physical bond, one that can't be broken....
posted by Heshuutnah at 11:34 AM
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