Gunnar's first week home was kinda crazy. We didn't get much sleep in the hospital because he stayed in the room the whole time. I was still trying to recover from the C-section, so my movement was limited and I got tired quickly. But we made it anyway.
The first night on our own, was a combination of comical and sad. I went to change Gunnar, since I didn't really do it a lot in the hospital, and he had a big poopy blow out and peed on me. Kevin thought it was hilarious. Gunnar wasn't wasting any time initiating me to motherhood. I have to admit, it was funny, after I got over the shock. When we tried to settle in for sleep, Gunnar started crying and I couldn't figure out how to get him to stop. I started to panic. I was still in pain from the C-section and I was having a hard time picking him up and holding him certain ways. Breastfeeding was still difficult, he never seemed to be full. Kevin and I had this moment when we kind of turned on each other. I managed to stop and say that we had to be a team, that Gunnar would break us if we started to doubt each other. We powered through that night and made it to the morning, me on the couch, Gunnar in the bassinet and Kevin on the bed.
On the second day, we just hung out at home. Tried breastfeeding more, snuggled a lot and tried to relax. By the evening, we were having a hard time getting Gunnar to wake up and eat. We were getting nervous so Kevin called our pediatrician and they suggested going to the ER. So we did. I was a wreck the whole drive, which was only 5 minutes long. Kevin grabbed the baby and reached to help me but I told him to go. He ran into the hospital and I waddled to keep up. The doors were closing as I finally got into the waiting area. We were rushed back to a room and about nine people came running and started working on Gunnar. I was so scared. Why did he need so many people? They started checking his heart and taking blood sugar readings and temperature and other things. I sat in a chair in the corner and stared and cried. What else could I do? Gunnar woke up slowly and started to cry with all the handling he was receiving. I felt so bad. He was probably scared and in some pain and I couldn't take that away. When things finally calmed down, they started to think that he was just really hungry. The staff got formula and he started taking that. They kept monitoring his sugar level and they tried to run an IV and get blood. He was really dehydrated so they had a hard time. I wanted to tell them to stop, that it was no use trying to stick any one who's dehydrated, let alone a little baby. He hands were all bruised by the time they were done. When it was just us and one nurse, she had me feed him some more and I just sat there with my baby and cried. I had let him down on our second day out of the hospital. He was so hungry he eat three bottles of formula. I was starving him. My milk still hadn't come in. I was failing at breastfeeding and as a result, my baby ended up in the ER, scared and bruised. The nurse that we had was amazing with us. She told us that it wasn't my fault. That we might have made him too comfortable and that's why he was so content to keep sleeping. I was back to formula again. At least I could see that Gunnar was getting a full belly. We left the ER relieved, but I was a complete mess.
The next day we went to the pediatrician so he could check on Gunnar. The old nurse was also amazing with us. He said that babies can sleep for 3-4 hours before they get hungry and that Gunnar was healthy and perfect. That we were doing what we were supposed to with him. I, naturally, didn't believe that. But it was nice to keep hearing how cute and perfect everyone thought Gunnar was. I guess I just needed a boost of confidence. We went home with a new attitude about how to take care of Gunnar. We were expecting a home visit from the nurse in a couple days. We just had to make it until then...
Cheers
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