The Crucible

It was Friday afternoon, we'd gotten home from the hospital the day before, and I had just laid down, desperate for even ten minutes of sleep. Esmé was lethargic and hadn't seemed interested in eating again so I just decided to let her sleep for both our sakes. Before I could close my eyes, Roo came into the room and very seriously told me not to panic, but that the pediatrician had just called and told us we needed to get Esmé to Primary Children's Medical Center right away--pack a bag as quickly as you can and go immediately, plan to be there for three nights. And for about the fifteenth time since first going into labor on Monday, I started to panic.

Esmé and I have different blood types. This makes her naturally prone to getting jaundice. This problem was compounded by the fact that she wasn't eating--or that I wasn't able to feed her adequately. With her digestive system not running very well, she wasn't eliminating the biliruben that causes jaundice so it got worse and worse during our stay. The doctors were concerned, but by Thursday morning, she had shown enough improvement that they were comfortable sending us all home.

We were so glad to be going home! Roo had had enough of his fold out chair-bed and I was sick to death of the constant activity of the hospital--what I mean is that at least every two hours of the entire day and night there was some nurse or doctor or technician coming in to prod and poke and discuss things with me. I hadn't slept more than one hour at a time since my sixteen hours of labor. If I didn't get out of there soon, I was going to break some arms!

So on our first evening home, I attempted to feed the baby and planned to get a nice, satisfying rest that night. The feeding did not go well. And then Esmé started to cry. And cry. And cry. And then scream. And then I started to cry. And cry. And I probably screamed some, too. This lasted THE WHOLE NIGHT! She screamed without stopping for the entire, endless abyss of that night. I knew something was seriously wrong--either with the baby or with my parenting techniques.

Thankfully, we had scheduled to see the pediatrician the next day. As we sat in her office and she asked how we were doing, I couldn't hold back the tears. I was at my wit's end. The doctor took some blood from Esmé to test her jaundice and told us the baby was probably just colicky and we'd just have to deal with it the best we could and to come back next week if her eating and digestion didn't improve. She sent us home with the unhappy baby and I felt totally forlorn.

It was that afternoon that the pediatrician called back telling us to get Esmé to the hospital immediately. The jaundice was much worse than she thought and it needed to be treated. In the next hour we were watching them hook our baby up to monitors and IV's. I'm sure as the doctor explained what they were going to do, he thought we were two of the most haggard, sorry looking people he'd ever seen. I was worried and scared, I had been crying nonstop for the past two days, and neither one of us had really slept for five days.

This was exactly what we needed, though. Esmé was dehydrated, hungry, and sick. The doctors and nurses were all so kind and caring. They were able to take care of her while we could go home and get our first full night's sleep since Sunday. I was also able to see a lactation specialist who helped me learn how to feed the baby better. After three days there at the hospital, Esmé got back to full health, and I felt like Roo and I had regained our sanity and were now ready to take on parenthood.

In our time home since, Esmé has slept through the night like an angel. She is a calm and happy baby with a very grateful mother.