The difference a week makes

Think back to the last experience you had which caused your whole body to tense up for a period of time.  The kind of tension that you grow to live with, and then one day releases, and you feel able to take a deep breath once again.  That was how today was.

For those of you that know Quinn well, you know that he is a careful observer who takes his time to try new things.  You also know that when he finally gets around to new things, he does them with all his heart and soul.  This is the way he's been since birth.  He was born almost two weeks late, on a Monday night just 36 hours shy of being born by induced labor.  I had had acupunture that day to help induce labor, followed by lots of walking on Mt. Tabor (also apparently know as Mt. Labor to some, including me now).  At 6:00, I felt contractions.  At 7:00, we headed to the hospital.  At 8:30, he was born, face up with a full knot tied in his umbilical cord from all his in-utero activity.  Two rather unusual things according to our midwife.

When we visiting my parents in Massachusetts, Quinn learned to climb stairs - the entire flight of them the first time he tried.  When he learned to walk he took three tentative steps one day and a few days later bussed his own plate from the table at school like all of his classmates.  He doesn't seem to have a middle ground.  It's all or nothing. 

Thus, we should not have been suprised by today's events, although we were.  He received his daily visits from multiple doctors: GI, Neuro, ICU, Infectious Disease, and also saw both physical and occupational therapists as well.  They helped explain exercises that we should do with him to help him relearn how to sit and crawl as he regains strength.  While doing these exercises, Quinn seemed to have a hard time holding himself up without constant support, and was eager to lay back down again.  Of course, a short while later Quinn decided to not only get himself to standing, but also dance in his crib and clap along to a few songs.

Quinn is now able to drink clear liquids, and his glucose and ammonia levels have remained relatively stable.  I ran out to the store tonight to pick up some better alternatives to hospital juice.  Coconut water, peach nectar baby cocktail tomorrow for sure.  And, just because I'm feeling ambitious, I brought back a few of Q's favorite fruits and baby oatmeal mush.  We're hoping we're within reach of leaving ICU for the main floor of the hospital, and one step closer to going home, and solid foods are a huge part of that.

It's interesting to think about the horrific place we were one week ago, and how much has happened and changed in a short period of time.  Every Monday brings a new rotation of doctors and support staff, and those we've newly met today have all commented on Quinn's amazing story.  Just a few minutes ago the overnight doc said that they preferred to see brain failure rather than liver failure, because liver failure can be very difficult to treat. 

Tonight, Quinn is sleeping in the deepest sleep since he came to the hospital.  His heart rate alarm keeps going off as his body fully relaxes, his heart rate slows, and his little eyelids flutter in his REM sleep world.  It's so nice to see.