Hmmmm. I just realized today that I think I'm down to one blog a month, at least if you look at June and July. Not a good sign! Well, I can't promise that things will definitely be better (I mean, come on now - I'm a working woman with a baby in tow), but I will do what I can.

Keira turned two months old on July 30th, and we're plowing steadily and speedily toward month number three. It's been a little nutso lately because I've been spending more and more time back at our company while still being a full-time mom. Luckily, Keira is one of the mellowest babies I've ever known. She's very easy to take out - we've hit the road with her at least a couple times every week since she was one week old. In fact, it probably would have been even sooner if she hadn't stayed at the hospital for an extra five days. Yup, Keira didn't come home with us right away. She had two days in the NICU and three days in the IICN before she was allowed to leave.

Those were probably the worst five days of our entire lives.

So the madly spiking fever I developed during labor culminated in a diagnosis of chorioamnionitis. At birth, Keira was already sick. I held her tiny body and she stayed with us in the delivery room for about 45 minutes before the NICU staff came to wheel her away. Felix followed her to intensive care while I was whisked off to the maternity ward. The next five days were filled with a whirlwind of vists from friends and family, and quiet conversations with intensive care staff to find out how Keira was doing. I think I drove the maternity ward staff nuts because it was impossible to pin me down to monitor my own care; every moment I could, I was dragging my IV down the hall to the nursery and spending time with the baby. It was simply exhausting, both emotionally and physically. And we were lucky! Keira was a full-term baby and quite healthy in most respects. Most of the other babies around her were premature and incredibly small - barely two or three pounds. It was enough to break your heart.

One of the worst moments was when I was released from the hospital to go home. Felix and I prolonged my second day as long as possible, and we probably would have slept overnight on couches in the hall if the IICN nurse hadn't convinced us that we needed to get some rest. I was wheeled out of the hospital in a wheelchair, as standard protocol dictates, with my pillow and purse on my lap instead of the baby. Felix drove the car around, and the minute the two of us were alone, out there in the dark in front of the hospital, we just burst into tears and cried. Nothing prepares you to go home without your child. Felix and I didn't even have to say a word to each other; we just sat there and wept at the same time, knowing exactly how the other person was feeling.

The other low point was during one of our visits. Each morning, Felix and I would get up early, run a few errands, and spend the rest of the day visiting Keira at the hospital. Thankfully, she had been moved to the IICN, which was a lot more spacious and casual. Throughout her stay, Keira received IV antibiotic treatments, and it turned out that she was a very "tough stick." It was hard to find a good IV line, and even then, her IV's would often stop working within the same day, at which point a new IV line would need to be started. The nurses had explained this to us before, but Felix and I didn't fully understand the reality of the situation until we were around one night for an IV change. Our nurse told us that Keira would need to get a new line and called over another nurse to perform the procedure. We waited it out in the adjoining visitors' lounge, but the door was open and Keira was just beyond the outside wall.

It was a terrible mistake to stay.

We heard Keira start to cry...and cry...and cry...and CRY. To our horror, she screamed and cried for over an hour. Keep in mind that she is an incredibly mellow baby. Her cries had always (and are still) been quite mild and brief until now. We sat there in agony, listening to her full-on non-stop bawls. It seriously sounded like she was being tortured, and Felix and I both wept in silence while we waited for the ordeal to end. We were stunned and shocked that it took so long - and believe me, we were literally watching the minutes tick by on the clock. When it was finally over, our nurse came to get us, explaining that it had taken awhile to get a good stick. All in all, Keira had five different IV's, about one for each day she stayed in the hospital. I'm just glad we only witnessed one; I don't think we could have withstood any more than that.

I must say, though, that Felix and I both have a new and profound appreciation for those whose life's work is to care for newborns. Almost all the nurses we met were absolutely amazing - the love, attention, warmth, and understanding they shower on their babies and parents is extraordinary. It was an incredible experience, full of intensely wonderful and heart-breaking moments. And throughout, our little angel was so brave and so sweet.

So...when I'm lugging her into the office, covered in sweat and already feeling tired, I always try to remember Keira's first week of life. It's all a matter of perspective. Back to work!