Note to self: Do not discuss birth philosophies with NICU nurses. But more on that later. Quinn finally broke the barrier. He is 1330 g, 3 pounds officially! And looking more like a baby all the time, not an alien. He's up to 26 ml of milk, with 4 added calories. He's still hovering in the 35 to 40% oxygen range, but his pressure is down a tiny bit. I was there during rounds this morning. They discussed an electrolyte supplement. He had already been getting sodium, now they want to add potassium as well. Other than that, no surprises, nothing major, just watching him grow. I didn't hold him this morning, since he was eating and likes to have lots of desats while that's going on. He does have some reflux, but not a big surprise there. We are asking super human things of his digestive tract. And he's responding pretty well overall.
A close up.

And big brother and sister watching from the rocker.



Now for my conversation. It started when the nurse commented that she thinks she has Quinn's personality pegged, that he likes to be in charge. She said he'll be a troubled teen, that my other two kids are angelic, but this one will be a challenge. Oooookaaay. Then she said "The good thing about all this is that the babies don't remember a damn thing. You will, but he won't." I was shocked. I told her I don't for one minute believe it doesn't leave an impression on them. That surprised her. She said she could never be a PICU nurse, where the kids would beg her not to give them an IV or whatever. I was having a hard time being objective about this. So, just because a baby can't complain in English means it's okay to do these painful things to him? I said it might not be concious memory, but yes, I do think that everything that happens to us leaves an imprint on us somehow, and especially at this tender age. I didn't say it then, but that belief is one of the main reasons I wanted a homebirth, to have a gentle and peaceful beginning to life, because I do think it leaves lasting impressions. The conversation was put on hold while she answered a phone call. By the time she came back I was saying my goodbyes to Quinn and getting ready to leave. Then it started again.
Her: Are you okay?
Me: (confused) yeah...
Her: I gathered you're kind of a reserved sort of person.
Me: yep, that's right. I'm doing okay. (thinking: leave me alone)
Her: (a long explanation about how Quinn is overall okay, doing the typical preemie thing and is doing what is expected. She said she wished the monitor wasn't as visible to parents, that only the nurses would get to see it so the parents wouldn't become obssessed with it.)
Me: Yeah, it's like it is in labor, when everyone gets caught up watching the fetal monitor and forgets about the mother herself.
Her: Yep, that's about right.
Me: That's one reason we were planning a homebirth.
Her: (jaw sagging) You were planning a homebirth?!
Me: yes, and I got just about as opposite a birth as I can come up with to the one I had planned.
Her: yes, but a homebirth!?
Me: I detest hospitals.
Her: Okay, so do I, but...
Me: And I firmly believe that many of the things that go on in a typical labor and birth are inexcusable.
Her: That's true. The c-section rate is out of control. But, I'm a NICU nurse and homebirth just wasn't and option for me. I mean, I could have, but knowing what can happen, I wouldn't have. We do get homebirth trasnfers here, ya know.
Me: yes, and you see the ones that go wrong. The vast majority go right, and have no need of the NICU. Most people don't need a hospital.
Her: what, for birth or in general?
Me: Both.
Her: Uhhhh, I don't agree.
Me: Most people don't.
Her: My sister has cancer now.
Me: That's not most people.
Her: But it is now. One-third of women have breast cancer now.
Me: (thinking, holy math, Batman) And what are we doing to prevent it? We talk of finding a cure, and raising money toward that end, but who is looking for ways to prevent it to begin with?
Her: You're right, that's why I don't feed my kids the way my parents fed me.

At that point she had to settle a crisis with her other charge and I made my escape. I shouldn't have brought up my plans for homebirth, but I felt slightly baited throughout the whole conversation. Everyone else to whom I've mentioned our foiled plans has been very respectful about it, and in most cases it helped to understand us better and our parenting philosophies and hopes for Quinn's hospital stay. But this was a little over the top. I mean, hide the monitors so the parents don't see them? How patronizing is that? "Don't worry your little head about it. Trust us." And babies don't remember things? That is the justification for a host of atrocities perpetuated on babies, and I find it sickening. It was only fairly recently that surgeries performed on babies included anesthetic. They used to be done using only a paralytic drug. And then there are baby boys. I won't fully go into my feelings on routine circumcision, but suffice it to say, it won't happen on my watch. If my sons want to do it later, it's their choice. I won't change their bodies for them and subject them to unnecessary pain. These are just examples. Babies are human beings. Their bodies may be immature, but I don't believe their spirits are any less mature than ours. I believe they deserve respect. While I was conversing with Quinn's nurse, the other nurse in the room was speaking sharply to her charge, who was crying and only calmed when she was held. "I just can't hold you all day." The NICU is not a happy place. I cannot wait for our time there to be done. And may it never happen again.