Fighting the Panic.
The shocking news that our baby Jessica could not leave the hospital was starting to sink in.
I guess I responded in the same mind-numbed way many parents do when their child is in danger. I tried to compose myself. I fought back the sense of panic, as I tried to calmly speak to Renée.
Our hearts were beating and hurting as one. I assured her over and over that everything would be okay, but as I hung up the phone, I… felt… crushed!
I got on the phone to our family doctor and then the insurance carrier. The problem was an elevated ‘bilirubin level’ which is an infant form of ‘jaundice.’ This was new to my vocabulary, but apparently often occurring in premature babies like Jessica.
After intense negotiations on the phone, inspired by the memory of Renée’s sobbing ringing in my ears, I was able to reverse their decision. If Jessica was staying in the hospital, then Renée would be staying as well. I relayed the information to Renée later that day and then headed off for the hospital to see her and Jessica. We talked everything over and that helped to calm us both down for the time being.
After nursing Jessica, Renée fell into an exhausted sleep, I tip-toed out and headed home.
A crisis had passed.
Squirming and Crying.
After two more days in the hospital, with periodic monitoring of ‘bilirubin levels’ in her blood, little Jessica improved enough to go home with us on a conditional basis. The condition she was released under was that every morning at 7:30 am as long as was medically needed, we would take her in as an outpatient for blood tests. So began the first week of Jessica’s life at home.
For eight days we would arise early and head down to the hospital.
Facing the squirming and crying on a daily basis, as her tiny arms and legs were jabbed with needles to draw the necessary blood, was excruciating for us all, especially for Renée.
Blessed Relief at Last.
Finally she was declared okay by the medical staff and the daily trauma was over. The calming effect of a more normal daily routine was welcomed. The black clouds of doubt and uncertainty had receded and the falling tears seemed like a distant memory.
Life was Rosy Again.
The kids were back in school, the weather had cooled and a beautiful ‘Indian Summer’ was on the horizon. The kids and I picked apples off of the ‘Golden Delicious’ apple tree in our back yard. I love to make things out of wood, and that summer I had built a small cider press, and so we squeezed some fresh cider and we all enjoyed it.
Jessica was back to being a normal baby and we were getting to know her better every day.
Late that night, I sat on the patio and listened to the crickets sing as I sipped my warm apple cider and pondered the three week wild ride we had just gone through. I was relieved to see everyone happy and healthy again.
At last, Jessica was safe at home and the crisis had passed like a bad dream… or so we thought at the time.
Photography and Mystery.
I stood over Jessica’s crib in the semi-darkness, silently watching her sleep, clutching my camera as I waited for the morning light to flood the room.
My normal daily routine is to be up early and I enjoyed watching her slow peaceful breathing. I know that beauty isn’t the true measure of a child’s worth, but she was a very beautiful child of two and a half months. She had her mother’s eyes and olive complexion and for a small baby she had lots of shiny, jet black hair. She seemed just about perfect to me, as I gazed at her.
A perfectly lovely little girl, and so angelic as she lay there.
Suddenly as she began to stir, she twitched and her head jerked to the left, then her body stiffened for just an instant and all was peaceful again.
“What was that?” I wondered aloud.
Next Week: ‘A Deepening Puzzle.’
I will continue to share the answers to the question “What happened to Jessica?” every Monday in the weeks ahead. When I have received sufficient feedback and questions, I will add a Thursday episode, as needed, to this blog, focused on answering your questions and comments.
Thanks for your interest.
Jim, Renée & Jessica