First I want to say that he is the cutest, snuggliest little baby ever. I think he looks like his daddy, but there are times that he looks so much like LB did as a newborn.
I'd also like to say that I have been recovering well after my c-section. Other than the spinal I was given and whatever they put in with it, I have only taken ibuprofen for pain and I haven't even used it for the last few days. The nurses and doctors in the hospital looked at me like I was crazy when I told them I didn't want to take Percocet. I couldn't believe how much I was pressured to use it. Sorry, but I didn't want my limited time with little dudely to be spent being loopy and high.
As for the tougher stuff...
Apparently Dudely didn't have his big burst of a cry like he was supposed to, so the vessels in his lungs didn't open up. He turned blue on the way to have his first echocardiogram done. He ended up being in the special care nursery for 11 days because he can't keep his oxygen saturation up and we had trouble getting the equipment needed in order to bring him home.
That messed with my plan to exclusively breastfeed, so I had to start out pumping until they would let me feed him. To make it even worse, I ended up having a UTI, so I was put on an antibiotic that made me have to pump and dump. I could have cried every time I poured that liquid gold down the drain. More stress was added when the lactation consultant and all the nurses told me that he would have a difficult time switching to the breast because he had been bottle fed so long and because the muscle tone in his mouth probably wasn't strong enough yet.
Dudely breastfeeds like a pro! My milk came in just fine with pumping only and he latched on perfectly right away.
So now he is exclusively breastfed. I have trouble getting him to wake up in the middle of night so he can eat (he needs the calories, or I'd let him keep sleeping through the night), so he's not gaining as much weight as the doctor would like him to.
The home health nurse was just here and she thinks he's gaining weight just fine. Meh.
He is on oxygen 100% of the time and his heart and respiratory rates are being recorded on an apnea monitor. He is also supposed to be on a pulse oximeter, but that hasn't come (or maybe even been prescribed) yet. There is a big loud machine in our house that pulls oxygen out of the air for him, and it's like he's attached to an anchor. He can only get so far in the house with the amount of hose we can use. Getting him out of the house and to his appointments has been interesting, to say the least.
He sees his pediatrician weekly and a nurse comes out to our house twice per week. He also has to see a pediatric cardiologist and a pulmonologist, both of which he sees next week (another echocardiogram...yay). Early intervention begins next week as well.
The words "heart" and "failure" have been used together lately and they are terrifying. The cardiologist I saw while pregnant never used that term, but every neonatologist and the nurses at the hospital used it daily. "When he starts going into heart failure..." "You'll know it's heart failure when..." "To help him when heart failure begins, he'll be on..."
Please. No heart failure. Just call it when we know he'll need his heart surgery. (Open heart surgery...scary, too.)
Lastly, the diagnosis of Down Syndrome was confirmed via DNA test. He has the most common type. Of course everyone has been analyzing his physical traits to see how severe it is (one of my aunts even went as far as to point out how well-formed he is...I wonder what in the world she expected). Hubby and I are no exception. I thought I could see it in his eyes, especially when they are open. I think I'm so used to it now that I just don't see it anymore. He does have a few of the tell-tale signs, like his tongue sticking out most of the time and the extra fat pad on the back of his neck (which seems to be disappearing).
And the single crease going across the palm of his hand:
I think there are other things that we won't be able to see until he gets bigger.
Other than being attached to machines, he's just like other newborns. I'm enjoying his cute snorts/snuffles and baby coos...how his arms and hands seem to be possessed while he's nursing...how he roots on anyone who holds him...how he calms immediately when I hold him...his sweet smelling poops...how he stares at my face sometimes...the happy daze my milk puts him into...
And watching his daddy let him sleep on his chest and tell him he loves him. Best feeling ever.
