And your little dog too...
Sams (birth) story continuedSo here we are, baby Sam and I our first day home. Unfortunately we weren't going to be able to rest much as we were instructed to get him in to his first visit with the pediatrician and then off to the hospital (we just left) 45 minutes away to get his bilirubin checked. Thank goodness for my mom taking some extra time off work and being able to drive us around. I was still a tad low on that red human fuel we apparently need, oh and food, lets not forget that stuff makes a beeline for the door once I swallow.Off we go, we get to meet the new pediatrician! I was somewhat psyched for this day -our old pediatrician had left the office and I was in utter turmoil over what to do, who to see. Then I saw a last name of a new physician, it happened to be the same name as one of the key doctors in my best friends daughters medical team. This HAD to be a good sign! Right?! This was a name we grew so close with, a name that helped save our Baby Emma. Just a different doctor.The nurse came and went. Doctor came in, we discussed the weight loss of course, I explained the circumstances of my health while at the hospital and while she expressed keeping an eye on him she was fully trusting in me to know as his Mommy to keep on doing what I was doing -let him nurse. We would re weigh in a few days. When the nurse was in we mentioned how we were off to Springfield to get his heal stick/bili levels checked. Oh no! You don't have to drive all the way to Springfield she said. I can do that here for you, she said. While part of me wanted to go back to the comfort of the hospital I had been at for days, I didn't look forward to the car ride so OK, we will stay here. Nothing out of the ordinary, poke the baby, baby cries, baby bleeds, bandage foot -we all go home! No special instructions, other than to come back for a weight check.The rest of the day/night came and went. We nursed, slept and poo'd. When morning came I wanted to get Sam a nice fresh bath, finally, in our own home. Get that hospital stank off the both of us! Andrew, my oldest, was there to help me just in case I needed anything. And to just oogle over this precious baby brother. Pajamas off, check. Diaper off, check. Foot bandage off, check........ vomit rising to the surface, tears of confusion welling up -CHECK! Something was wrong. Sams foot! It was just this big dark spot! I could not quite grasp what was happening......, wounds!? Big open wounds!?? Swelling!??? My heart, oh the ache -his foot is double the size of the other one! This can't be happening, what ? why ? how ? My perfect, sweet, brand new, not even a week old baby boy is hurt!I snuggled him up tight and did the only thing I knew, called my mom! Nanie 911, we need you! Trying to describe this horror I was seeing, trying to remember every last minute of the previous day. That moment of the heal stick, that MOMENT of her gabbing, wrapping my baby's foot playing over and over! Will it be ok? It has to be ok? Haven't we been through enough. We sit and compare his feet, Nanie checks him out, tickling him just so she knows he has plenty of feeling (uh huh, right..) We decide to keep an eye on it, watch for swelling to go down. Keep clothes and bandages off of it of course, keep ointment on. Some phone concerned phone calls were made, I was told a nurse would be calling me to check on us. A nurse would be calling to ask me certain questions, determine whether we needed to have Sam seen now or if it could be sufficient to wait for office hours.Crying, snuggling and feeling as though I've failed at protecting my sweet new boy. Then the nurse calls, the nurse who we saw that day before. There were no questions of his symptoms. There were no apologies, sympathetic concern of any kind. This phone call was merely a testimony of how she "followed protocol". Repeating step by step of the heal stick and how she performed it correctly. The heal stick wasn't the problem, the wrap, that was too tight -this is where the fault was. It was as if she was replaying that entire appointment back to herself, out loud to me, to convince herself she was OK, she was right, SHE didn't do anything wrong.Trusting the nursing history of my moms, I was seeing slight improvement in the swelling so we wait -come to the office first thing Monday morning and we will see him to check and make sure everything is going to be ok. After sitting, waiting for the better part of an hour someone finally talks to me just simply to say the doc would be in soon. Really? Don't mind me, I haven't been through the ringer in the last week. If I would've known that all the waiting would only be met with a doctor who would try to make excuses, yet again no apologies, but maybe there was an allergy to the bandage... I would not have wasted my time! Out with a brand new baby, for almost 2 hours, to be made feel like we didn't matter -that this incident was not at all serious. Oh and my favorite, that we should have known to take the bandage off even within 10 minutes of the heel stick. Funny, there were no instructions and all the heel sticks in the hospital *every day* the bandages always stayed on until the next stick.I wish I could say I felt something was done about this, I wish I felt resolve over the slip up of a nurse who couldn't even own up to a mistake. I wish I could say my son doesn't have a horrible scar where the foot and ankle meet. I wish I could say...... my son, my baby, my Sam -would let me put a shoe on that foot without being fussy and pulling it off. I know babies are notorious for taking shoes off. But he only pulls the one off, once it is off, he no longer fusses or remotely bothers the other.I wish I could type this, without crying all over again -without my stomach knotting up, or simply just say.........Dear Nurse A,I thought leaving that office, I was able to rid our lives from you. Unfortunately, it seems our paths will continue crossing frequently. -I was told by another party you felt 'bad'. Let it be known, you will never know how bad you should feel, what I felt for weeks watching and praying for it to heal. What I feel everyday -when I dress my baby boy and see the scar you left behind. The strength it takes to keep from going to you, every time I have to be in the same place the at the same time, and showing you the result of your mistake that day. Flood you with pictures. All the while trying to hide from you, my tears. Let life keep you from ever having to feel the pain, of a visual daily reminder, where someone else hurt one of your babies. Sincerely, A very protective Mommy
