Time for a trip!

But first, one last picture from the first hospital:



I can just see her little brain ticking ... "Whoa. What is this thing here?!?"

She looks sad, though, I think. It's hard to see this image of a daughter who's still just skin and bones. And dark veins so visible through the tissue paper thinness of her skin. And eyes as big as her palms ...

sigh

So it's time for a trip. I promised, right? It's been 23 days here at this NICU, it's now the 16th of November ... although who's counting yet? My son and I have gone to see the seriously lame film "Mr. Magorium's Magic Emporium," when I'm buzzed and paged repeatedly (silently! I'm not one of those annoying people, but I do have a critically ill child and have no qualms whatsoever leaving my cell on.) I can ignore the calls no longer, so head out into the lobby to return them ...

And discover they want to move Ella to a new hospital! She's not in need of such a critical facility anymore, and our HMO wants her back to its own hospital. Not to mention: This is the place she was SUPPOSE to be born; we'll have a semi-private room (it has space for one other baby, but remains vacant until about the last couple of weeks, so we have loads of space); and it's much closer to home (no crossing the water/dealing with city traffic.)

I mull and I ponder and I worry, but ultimately agree to the transfer. Because of various issues, I am not able to ride across with her (this is the same journey I took, in reverse, when I was still carrying her.) So my son and I go to wait at the new hospital to greet her. And wait. And wait.

Transferring a NICU baby requires some specific attention, including a dedicated pediatric nurse trained to care for such tiny, critical creatures. She's located, but what's holding us up is the ambulance isn't made to carry the kind of Isolette Ella's in. So there's some back and forth, a new ambulance brought in, so and so forth, and they're on their way.

Ella does well in the ambulance. We get word when she arrives, a couple of hours late, but THEN my son and I have to wait while they make all of the adjustments in moving her in, about another 30-45 minutes. THEN we go to see our girl in her new digs.

While we're visiting, I note in my calendar, she sucks her pacifier while I'm holding it so I feel her gums on my finger:) Plus she holds my finger!

The boy and I get her settled, although it's more about getting myself settled since we're both exhausted and needing to go home, meet some of the new nurses and eventually say goodnight.

"Ella and Me"

"Ella and Me"

There once was two happy kids named L and Ella. They loved to play with each other every day. And they were brother and sister. Together they made a great team and made the world a better place for kids. Ella was a tiny baby and L was her older brother who watched over her. Ella had to live at the hospital for quite a long time because she was a preemie baby and very tiny. The nurses and the doctors helped Ella stay healthy and alive and kept her safe. L had to wait a long time before she could come home. He visited her often and read her stories so she would not be lonely. He thought that she was beautiful and loved her very much. To him she looked like a butterfly just coming out of her cocoon because her eyes were not open. He always wanted to be near her and someday when they were grown up he wanted to live next door to her and be her neighbor. Until then L would continue to visit her and he would tell other people about her and what it is like to be kept in the hospital. So that they will understand what it is like to be in the hospital and not be scared.

The End

These photos of awards and recognition for my son's story (brag, brag, brag as a mama should) are placeholders till I get a copy of the story up:) Story up 7/9/09.