Technical Difficulties

The blood oxygen saturation monitor has been driving us crazy, and is depriving us of more sleep than Hannah is. To cut a long story short, we've been through a defective probe, three defective cables, and still are getting readings only by taping the cable to the unit in a certain way to avoid a short in the connection. You'd think that since this is medical equipment, repairs and replacements would be at the door within an hour or so, but apparently not. There are only a couple reps in the area, apparently, and they're busy. Anyway, they brought by a replacement unit a few minutes ago, and it seems to be working fine.

To put things in perspective, Hannah would be fine without the oxygen monitor, but having it around and working allows us to not hover over her bassinet making sure that she's still breathing. Without it, we'd have to wait for the apnea monitor to tell us she hasn't breathed in 20 seconds.

On a completely different topic, we've gotten a few excellent tips and bits of advice from some of you, and it is always prefaced with something like "I know you didn't ask for advice . . . " Well, we're not the sort of people that get offended when offered advice, so go ahead and keep it coming. We need all the advice we can get. If we get any conflicting advice, we'll arrange an arm-wrestling match to settle it.

One more thing . . . the infant grandchild of a long-time friend of my family is battling leukemia. His parents live in Shreveport but have been staying at St. Jude's house in Memphis for many months while Ethan is treated there. Ben and Becky have been an inspiration to Carla and I since before Hannah was even born, and particularly when we faced serious problems with Steven and Hannah. Please include Ethan and his parents in your prayers. We need another miracle.

Helping Hands

We're getting into a routine of feedings, and Hannah is graciously allowing us to stay on the 3-hour schedule established in the NICU. That's convenient, because it's much easier to schedule her medications and put them in her milk than try to squirt them in her mouth and hope she swallows. She's also been sleeping at night (mostly) so we've been able to grab a few hours of sleep between feedings. She only gets cranky when we slip the vitamins into her milk, and if they taste half as bad as they smell, I can't blame her a bit.

Hannah's doctor prescribed daily visits from a NICU nurse for the next two weeks, so we have a helping hand and sounding board every day.

Hannah seems quite content. Sleeping most of the time, but alert and well-tempered when awake.

First Field Trip

We made our first trip outside the house today, to the pediatrician's office. She agreed that Hannah is doing great and was surprised at how alert she was. Carting around the oxygen and pulse ox monitor wasn't all that difficult, and Hannah seems to like riding in the car just fine.

She's now 6 pounds 3 ounces.



I just noticed that Hannah is still wearing her hospital ID bracelet. We've gotten so used to it, it didn't occur to us that we could take it off. Speaking of bracelets, Hannah had her own Paris Hilton fashion accessory while we were rooming in at the hospital, in the form of an ankle monitor to detect if she tried to leave the hospital. All babies get them, to make sure the parents don't steal their own babies before they are ready to leave. It's mostly a legal protection for the hospital, since they are responsible for the children until they are discharged.

Aunt Cat and Uncle Jon were Hannah's first home visitors yesterday, although Hannah was either zonked out or cranky the whole time they were here.


Some quality time with Mom.

Settling In

We're getting settled after the big move yesterday. Last night went fine, with Carla and I serving diaper/bottle duty in shifts so both of us got some sleep. The machines and medicine routine are working well. Today we'll try to straighten out the tornado that moved from the NICU to our car, then to our house . . . bags and boxes of supplies and paraphernalia sent home with us from the NICU. Those folks think of everything and provide lots of samples to make sure we don't have to run to Wal-Mart for several days for supplies. And it's a good thing, because we weren't doing much clear thinking the past few days.

Below are some pictures of Hannah's set-up. Most of this will go away once she's off the oxygen in a month or so. The yellow unit with the orange display is the pulse oximeter, displaying the percentage of oxygen saturation in Hannah's blood, which it measures by shining a light through her toes and watching the pulse rate and the color of her blood (oxygen-rich blood is redder than oxygen-poor blood). The white unit with the orange sticker on top is the apnea monitor, which measures her heart and breath rates using two electrodes held against her chest with a velcro band. The gray unit with the round white lid is a suction machine in case we need to clear her airways of gunk. And her meds are in the white tray in the middle, with the exception of one in the fridge because it has to be kept refrigerated. The pink unit in the bassinet is the food-oxygen exchange unit. It requires a constant supply of oxygen, fat, protein, and calcium, which it turns into poop and baby. The bassinet is raised slightly on one end with bricks because a leaky seal in the unit's input port sometimes causes some leakage that affects operating efficiency.


The unit below is the oxygen machine, which pulls oxygen out of the room air and concentrates it from 21% to 97%. This is better than a tank because it never has to be refilled. It's fairly loud, so we have it across the hall, with the oxygen tube running into the bedroom. There's 50 feet of tubing, so we carry Hannah all around the house, dragging the tube behind. The tanks to the left of the machine are portable oxygen tanks used for backup (a power outage, for example) and for traveling to the doctor's office.

Hannah Elaine Minor

Arrived October 27th, at 5 pounds 14 ounces, after 105 days of labor. Mom, Dad, and baby are doing great.






On a day like this, it's very easy to feel that it's all about us. But Hannah would not be with us today, as healthy as she is, without the round-the-clock care from a huge team of extraordinary people. The doctors and nurses at Medical Center of Plano have earned from us a lifetime of gratitude and respect. They have nerves of steel and the compassion of saints, and have been patient with both Hannah and her parents through the worst of times. Doctors Lucena, West, Kuforiji, and Jain, and too many exceptional nurses and therapists to name, and Doctor Kathy and her staff at CAR . . . thank you a million times over for this precious gift of life.





To the friends we've met in the NICU, please keep us updated on the progress of your little miracles. We miss them already.

Week 39, Day 1, Home Stretch

We're still on schedule to bring Hannah home tomorrow afternoon. Our second sleepover with Hannah last night went well, except for one brief bradycardia spell. That's what the monitors are for, though, and we were able to react quickly and make sure Hannah remembered to breathe. Equally important is the fact the monitors didn't generate many false alarms, which will be crucial to us getting even the token amount of sleep that new parents are allowed. Despite the brady episode, we got more sleep last night than we did the first sleepover . . . maybe three hours instead of one.

This afternoon, I'll pick up her prescriptions, and we're still awaiting delivery of the big oxygen tank (we have three 8-hour portables). We've watched the infant CPR video and scheduled Hannah's first appointment with the pediatrician. Tomorrow is the big day. Tonight will be our last full night of sleep for a while.

Week 38, Day 7, Two Days to Go!

We're at the hospital, rooming in with Hannah for the second time tonight. This time, we have all the same monitors that she'll go home with, and I got to set them up and attach them myself to make sure it was as easy as it looked. Hannah has been bright and alert and seems to be ready to get out of here.

She's now 5 lbs 12 oz, and passed the car seat test that verifies that she can make the trip home (they put her in our car seat and leave her there for two hours while monitoring, to make sure she's OK in that new position). We got her prescriptions and are about to watch the infant CPR training DVD.

We were completely exhausted after Wednesday's sleepover, and I'm sure we'll be worn out tomorrow as well, so I figured I better get a blog update in tonight. Here's a picture I snapped while Hannah was checking out the new room.

Week 38, Day 6, Preparation

Today we got most of the medical devices we'll use at home to make sure Hannah is OK. This includes a pulse oximeter (measures blood oxygenation), apnea monitor (warns if Hannah stops breathing), suction machine (to clear out her nose or mouth if necessary), and portable oxygen tanks and cannulas. The big oxygen tank will be delivered to the house later. A nurse will also visit the house daily for the first few weeks, then three times a week after that. We learned how to connect, monitor, and react to any warnings the machines produce, but they are very similar to the ones we're already used to in the NICU.

The training for the medical devices happened to be held in the same small room in the NICU where we last saw Steven. I'm sure that everyone there wondered why Carla was crying over the medical monitors we were being shown, but I couldn't think of a suitable way to explain the real source of her grief. We hadn't really thought much about that room since the day Steven died, but as the trainer led us toward the room I saw Carla's stride falter as she realized where we were headed. I paid extra close attention to the trainer and demonstrations, because I am almost certain Carla will remember none of it, and I can't blame her.

Our sleepover with Hannah went well last night, but neither Carla or I got much sleep, so we were pretty much zombies today. Hannah's hearing was tested today and checked out OK. Her fourth eye test was yesterday, and also checked out OK.

We'll probably room in again tomorrow night and hopefully bring Hannah home Saturday. Carla is apprehensive, but I'm sure we'll do fine.

As I walked the hallways of the hospital this morning to fetch a soda for Carla, having left her and Hannah in the room, I felt a serenity that I've been missing for many months. I realized just how far we've come from those days in July when I walked the same corridors, trying not to cry. It's clear now from the optimism of the doctors and nurses that Hannah will be more than just fine, and that most of our little worries are now on the same scale as those of any new parents.

I just wish that my Dad were still here to see Hannah smile, and that Steven were lying next to her in the crib, and that Carla and I were still worrying about the challenges of raising twins instead of the challenges of raising a preemie. And I wish I could tell Dad just one more time that Hannah will be home and healthy soon, and everything is going to be just fine.

Week 38, Day 5, Rooming In

Tonight is Hannah's first camping trip. The three of us are sleeping (I use the word loosely) in a nice private room at the hospital. This is essentially a practice run to make sure we can handle Hannah when she gets home, and that she can handle us.

She's up to 5 and a half pounds today, breathing and eating fine. If all goes well, she'll come home Saturday. Most of the hurdles are logistic at this point, like getting the home oxygen equipment delivered, taking an infant CPR class, and testing how well Hannah does in the car seat (she hasn't spent much time sitting up yet).

We've been worried about Mel and Butch (my sister and brother-in-law) out in San Diego, since they live very close to where the wildfires are. In fact, the fires were just one ridgeline away when the wind shifted, but their house is relatively safe for now. Who needs that kind of excitement?

Week 38, Day 4, Bath Time

Hannah got her first tub bath from Mom tonight. She also gained another ounce, to 5 lbs 7 oz. Carla and I will be "rooming in" at the hospital tomorrow night, to make sure we're ready to handle Hannah at home. She probably won't come home until this weekend, but we'll do one more "room in" just before she comes home.

Other than the bradys this morning, Hannah had a good day. Bright and alert for her bottle after her bath, a little exercise on the binky afterward, and fast asleep when we left.

Week 38, Day 4, Pausing for Breath

Hannah had two bradycardia episodes this morning (where she forgets to breathe and heart rate drops to dangerous levels). One was while feeding, which can be caused by mild choking, and is not usually an issue. But the other happened while she was sleeping, which is more of a concern. They don't like for babies to go home without several bradycardia-free days in a row, so this will likely set back the brady clock and push out her go-home date a few days.

When a bradycardia occurs, the monitors detect it and sound an alarm that brings the nurses running. They usually just pat or rub the baby, stimulating them so they will wake up and breathe, and everything returns to normal. Bradycardia is very common in preemies, and babies almost always grow out of it over time. We'll just have to wait and see. It has been 5 days since her last brady, so hopefully this is the last.

When Hannah comes home, she will have a monitor to detect a brady, but that's intended as an extra safety measure; they really don't want to send an infant home unless they are pretty sure she won't brady.

Week 38, Day 3, One Less Tube!

Someone looks happy to have that feeding tube out of her nose. Hannah has been taking the bottles well enough and continued gaining enough weight (5 lbs 5 oz today) that they don't think she needs the tube as a backup anymore. No "forgot-to-breathe" episodes since Wednesday, so she seems to be ready to go home this week! We're still waiting for an official go-home date to get the ball rolling.

We went for one last dinner out tonight with Carla's sister Cat and husband Jon, courtesy of some friends back in Shreveport. Thanks, Wayne and Margetta!

Week 38, Day 2

Somehow, Hannah managed to gain four ounces yesterday, weighing in now at 5 lbs 4 oz. Four ounces is the equivalent of two regular-size Snickers bars, and her legs are each about the size of a Snickers bar. I looked around for extra legs or Snickers bars that she might be hiding, but didn't see any.


She's down from half a liter of oxygen per minute to 2 tenths of a liter. 1 tenth is what the home oxygen level will be, so that's the target. We met with the doctor today to discuss the logistics of transitioning to home: pulmonologist, pediatrician, oxygen delivery, CPR training, rooming-in, and medications. We're still on track for sometime next week, but Hannah may be ready before we are.

Week 38, Day 1, Five Pounds!

Hannah is officially too big for her britches today, as she has passed the 5-lb mark and the preemie diapers are only good for "up to 5 pounds". She's also learned to cry when she's hungry, sleep when she's rocked, and drink her milk a bit more philosophically when the nurses have put those nasty tasting vitamins in it. She's also moved out of the presidential suite in the NICU to the "Baby Steps" area, now that she's off the IV and the private room could be more effectively utilized by babies that need a bit more critical care.


Carla and I got our vaccinations this morning, particularly for whooping cough and flu. Preemies are much more susceptible to both, and it's best to eliminate the parents as potential infection vectors.

We're busy getting the house ready for Hannah . . . dusting in places we didn't know we had places. Generous friends and family have provided most of the essentials: car seat, stroller, playpen, bassinet, clothes, blankets, bibs, bears, and even a last night on the town before we become housebound for RSV season. I can't thank everybody enough.

What's RSV? You've probably had it, and in most adults and children, it is indistinguishable from the common cold. You get over it, it goes away, and you forget about it. For Hannah and other ultra-preemies, whose immune systems got several months' less fortification from Mom's blood supply, respiratory syncytial virus can be life-threatening. The net effect is that Hannah has to be protected a bit more than full-term babies throughout the RSV season of October through May. This means we won't be taking her to crowded malls or stores, and visitors to the house will have to scrub down, and maybe even wear face masks if they or someone they know has a cold. The NICU has already been closed off until May to any children under 17, since they are the most likely to have RSV.

Week 37, Day 7, What about Hazie?

Hannah and Carla had a great session today, no problems with the bottle and only a normal and brief de-sat. She's now getting a half liter per minute of 100% oxygen, as opposed to 2 liters per minute of 35% oxygen a week ago. This is to get her used to the type of oxygen supply she'll go home with, which doesn't have adjustable mix, just adjustable volume.


Those of you who have been to our house or known us for years might be wondering what's going to happen to Hazie when Hannah comes home. Hazie is our 13-year-old border collie, who doesn't like cats or squirrels or children. She also hates hands and feet, and she bites. I am not exaggerating when I say that she has some mental problems which, if she were human, would have landed her in jail long ago. If she sees a hand or foot in her peripheral vision while she is distracted by something else, she will bite it, regardless of who it is attached to. It's not an aggression problem, but a fear-biting problem. She obeys quite well and never tries to assert herself. If we hadn't gotten her from farmer Cross when she was six weeks old, I would assume she had been abused. But it is more likely that this is just a genetic quirk, leftover from the days when her breed were specifically selected to herd sheep and cattle and nip at their heels when necessary. When we pet Hazie, she loves it as long as she can't see our hands. When we have visitors, we have to explain to them that, as friendly as Hazie is, she can't really be touched.


Obviously, Hazie can never be allowed anywhere near Hannah or any other child. So, back in 2004 when we embarked upon the Hannah project, we added a room onto the house for Hazie. Actually, we converted the existing garage into a den/library and added a new garage where the driveway used to be. You can see the doggie door in the computer models I created for the builder. Before Hannah starts walking, we'll split the back yard in half with a double fence (so little arms can't get within big teeth range) and put keypad locks on the doors to the back yard. There will still be plenty of room for Hazie's favorite games; we'll just have to go to her part of the house to play with her. In all likelihood, we will lose Hazie to old age before Hannah really becomes aware of her, but until then we have to keep them away from each other at all costs.

Week 37, Day 6, Getting a Bath

Hmmm . . . where to start? We had an eventful day. Starting with Hannah's first bottle at noon, she didn't seem overly interested in drinking, but finally got started. Then she had a de-sat (she forgot to breathe) that scared the bejeebers out of Carla. Then she didn't want to finish the bottle and got the remainder through the tube. She did fine for the 3pm feeding and then again at the 9pm.

The doctor and nurses weren't particularly concerned. Hannah had just been weaned a little further off the oxygen, and had gotten another of her vaccinations this morning, and may have been reacting to that.

She got a sponge bath tonight from Mom, and her 9pm bottle from Dad. If you click the picture above, you can read her weight on the scale . . . we're very close to another milestone.

Week 37, Day 5, Ready or Not . . .

The doctor told Carla today that if everything goes as planned, Hannah can come home the middle of next week! We'll "room in" at the hospital for a couple of days before that to make sure we can take care of her on our own. She'll likely come home with an oxygen tank, but that's OK, and she'll only need it for a few weeks. The only thing we're really apprehensive about is having to suction oxygen boogers out of her nose, which the nurses graciously take care of at the moment. I think that's going to be unpleasant for both parties no matter who's doing it to whom.

She's off the IV again, which is a good thing, because it was most recently in her scalp and the conehead look does not become her (see below). The feeding tube should be gone soon, too.

Week 37, Day 4, Three Months Old!

Hannah is three months old today, and celebrated with a bath and three bottles from Mom. Not all at the same time . . . bottles at noon, 3pm and 9pm, and a bath just before the 9pm meal. Not much else going on, just some vaccinations and the tail end of the antibiotics course she started last week.

We attended another support group meeting tonight with other current and past NICU parents and shared lessons, tips, worries, and laughs. It helps to be reminded that we're not going through this alone and that in the vast majority of cases, babies go home from the NICU and lead perfectly normal lives.

Week 37, Day 3

After-dinner contentment.

Hannah is up to 6 out of 8 feedings by bottle today. Her only tube feedings are at 6am and 6pm now, all the others are from a bottle. She's 4 lbs 11 ounces now . . . she didn't gain any weight during the time she went back on CPAP, but seems to be back on track now.

Life is good.

Week 37, Day 2

As you can see from the picture above, Hannah is doing great today. I have seen with my own eyes that the tiny mouth above can double or triple in size (for maximum acoustic effect) during a temperature check or diaper change. I have tried to assure her that there are much worse places than an armpit for a thermometer to go, but my reasoning is lost on her. As Carla put it (channeling for Hannah), "Come on Dad, I'm not even zero yet!". She'll celebrate her zeroth birthday November 1st (adjusted age for developmental milestones).

I got a lot of good pictures today that I'll dole out slowly over the next week so my Mom doesn't keel over squealing from an overdose of cuteness. If you've got a fast Internet connection, click here to see a video of Hannah grabbing for my camera. The white foam on her arm is to keep the antibiotics IV in place. The faint music in the background is from Hannah's mini-boom-box.

Week 37, Day 1

Another good solid day for Hannah. Carla got to give her a bottle, and she's now getting half her meals (every other feeding) from a bottle. She chugs the milk at a rate that amazes the nurses, and barring any surprises, she'll probably be off the feeding tube in a couple days. She's still an oxygen junkie, so her lungs need to grow and mature more before we can wean her off the nasal cannula. We're still two to four weeks away from bringing her home, but even that is just a guess.

Week 36, Day 7, Back on the Bottle

Since twins are usually delivered earlier than the 40-week mark for single babies, right about now (close to 37 weeks) is when Hannah and Steven would have been born if not for the change in plans that Mother Nature threw our way. And other than the oxygen tube and an IV for the antibiotics, she's close to where she would have been if born today. She got her first bottle feed since she had to go back to CPAP last week, and didn't miss a beat slurping it down. She's also doing great on her lowest oxygen levels yet.

We met today with Hannah's future pediatrician, and learned that we have to get almost as many immunizations as Hannah does. One of Hannah's immunizations, to protect against RSV, costs about a thousand dollars for each monthly dose. Thank God for insurance.

Week 36, Day 6, Back to Cannuland

Hannah's back on the nasal cannula, and at the lowest oxygen setting yet. This is very encouraging, since her breathing is really the main thing keeping her in the hospital at this point. Of course, we still have to get her to 100% bottle feeds, but she was well on her way to that before she had to back to the CPAP mask.

Carla and Hannah had a great holding session today, with very few de-sats (brief periods where Hannah's blood oxygen saturation dips and alarms go off) and some very animated action on the pacifier. We assume that's Hannah's way of saying she wants the bottle back. They'll probably start her back on the bottle tomorrow; until then she's getting milk through the feeding tube (Which, as you can see in the photo above, is up her nose today. That'll teach her to stop pulling it out of her mouth.)

Week 36, Day 5

Sorry for the lack of updates lately. We're all doing fine. Carla held Hannah today from 3 to 6pm, and I went in around 9 and held her for an hour. She's got enough synapses firing in that little brain now to have decided she doesn't like the CPAP mask or loud conversations near her bed. And she's learned how to use her vocal cords to make us aware of these opinions. So we can no longer treat her like the pink-faced burrito she resembles when wrapped up. She's now a sentient burrito with a squeaker, and she's not afraid to use it.


She's back to full feeds after they suspended them briefly to keep an eye on some intestinal air bubbles (which have since moved along; I'm pretty sure we heard one of those bubbles making an exit the other day, if you know what I mean). She's doing well on the CPAP and might be able to go back to the cannula in the next couple days. They did find a mild staph infection in her second set of blood cultures, so she's been put on antibiotics. There are two types of staph infections: a relatively mild one that is easily treatable and a nasty one that isn't. Hannah's is the mild type, so we're not particularly worried about it.

We really enjoy hearing from all of you that are following Hannah's progress. One of the problems with keeping a blog is that it is mostly one-way information, so while you know all about what's going on with us, we don't know much about what's up with you. If you get a chance, drop us an email (theminors@minorhall.com) and let us know what's going on with you and your family, particularly if we haven't had a chance to talk to you in a while (or ever). We've gotten a few blog comments from friends of friends and even complete strangers that are keeping track of Hannah, and it means a lot to us that she has managed to acquire friends of her own before she's even left the hospital. :-)

Week 36, Day 3, Breaking the Fast

Hannah started back on some milk this afternoon (about a third of an ounce compared to the normal 1.3-ounce meal). She's not showing any signs of being sick, but one of her blood cultures came back positive for staph infection. The doctor thinks it might be a false positive, but they'll do more blood tests in the morning to check again. If it looks like her body is gearing up to fight infection, they'll start her on antibiotics to help out. Infections are pretty common in preemies (as well as any adult patient in the hospital for more than a couple weeks), so this isn't anything to worry about at the moment.

Here are a couple of photos I took a couple nights ago before Hannah went back on CPAP. In the first one, you can see the mini-boom-box I made from a set of miniature speakers and an old MP3 player. The CPAP is noisy enough that we're not using the boom-box now.


Speaking of the noisy CPAP, click here to see a short video clip (12MB) of Hannah with the CPAP. The hissing noise is the CPAP, the beeping is the monitor telling us that Hannah is over-satting (meaning her blood oxygen saturation is nice and high). In moderation, over-satting a good thing, but if she over-sats for too long, they'll drop her oxygen a little to avoid harming her eye development with too much oxygen.

Week 36, Day 3, Sugar-Water Diet

(Note: This is a special links-out-the-wazoo blog entry. I didn't intend it, but noticed after finishing up that it seems to have more hyperlinks than usual. So, click away and follow those links if you want.)

Hannah's doing fine, but they took her off stomach feeds (tube or bottle) yesterday until they make sure that some bubbles in her intestines are nothing serious. The X-rays showed that they had moved on and the blood tests all came back negative for infection, so at least it seems to not be NEC. It's probably just air bubbles, like she had a few weeks ago.

At the moment, she's just getting IV nutrition (sugar water and sodium) and will probably go back to TPN (a richer IV nutrition mixture) later today, after which they will quickly ramp back up on the gavage feedings (through the stomach tube), and then back to the bottle. The bottle can be tricky with the CPAP mask on her nose, but she may go back to the nasal cannula before she gets back to the bottle anyway.

For her (hopefully brief) return to the ICU, she's actually got one of the few actual "rooms" in the NICU, with four walls and a window to the outside. They usually reserve these for infants that need more isolation (because of noise sensitivity or infection) and long-term care, but in Hannah's case, she just happened to get it because she swapped with another baby headed to "Baby Steps" (the less-intensive area of the ICU). Sorta like checking into a hotel and getting the VIP suite for regular price just because it was empty and already cleaned.

This little jaunt back to intensive care is a good example of how they tend to play it safe and cover all the bases with these babies. If Hannah's breathing decline had been caused by something more serious, they want her to be where they can intervene quickly and fix it. Hopefully, it was just caused by her immature lungs, some air bubbles in her intestines, and some booger build-up caused by the air they're blowing up her nose (they can moisten the air, but then that can cause fluid build-up in the lungs, which also decreases lung function). I'm glad to see them being so thorough.

We went to the wedding reception of a good friend of mine last night (photo by Megan Resch). Three weddings within a month! It was great to see Jason get married, cause he's really too good a guy to leave on the shelf past his expiration date. And although I barely know her, it's obvious that Jennifer is just as wonderful a person, and that this is a perfect match.

Week 36, Day 2, Two Steps Forward . . .

One step back. I just talked to Hannah's doctor, and they're going to put her back on CPAP (higher pressure of air up her nose) for a few days. Blood tests showed that her CO2 levels were rising, indicating that she's working too hard to breathe. If allowed to continue, that could lead to other problems as well as burn up energy that she would otherwise use to grow. The CPAP keeps her lungs from deflating all the way, which makes it much easier for her to draw each breath (the same way a balloon is much easier to inflate after the first breath).

This means she'll have to go back over the the ICU area of the NICU while she's on CPAP. We halfway expected this development, and it's really not as much a setback as an indicator that she'll be in the hospital a little longer. Probably another month.

The expectation is that, as she continues growing, her lungs will get larger and the muscles that serve them stronger, and her nasal passages will grow to allow more airflow. All these things should lead to less dependence on the oxygen.

Week 36, Day 1

At 4 lbs 9 ounces, Hannah now weighs over three times what she did when she was born. She's now getting three bottles a day (plus 5 tube feedings) and slurping them down with ease. It's amazing that her tiny nervous system was pre-programmed, starting from a single cell, to know how to get milk out of a bottle. OK, maybe the programming wasn't exactly for a bottle, but I'm still hesitant to use the word "nipple" in a sentence.

Here's a picture of Hannah's new apartment. I know it doesn't look much different from her previous sleeping arrangements, but it is a luxury to be able to bend down and talk to her and touch her without opening portholes or raising the top of the isolette.

Week 35, Day 7, Looking Back

Hannah and Carla are both feeling good today after another perfect bottle feed session, and Carla is gaining confidence about taking care of Hannah once she's home.

The doctor told Carla today that Hannah is likely to come home with an oxygen tank, but she'll almost certainly grow out of it long before she can move around on her own. So it's unlikely she'll have to drag a hose around behind her.

Today's photos are a couple of repeats, but seeing them side-by-side really underscores the progress Hannah has made in the past two months. I'm glad to see that the rest of her face has caught up with her nose.

Week 35, Day 7, First Graduation Day

We were surprised to learn today that Hannah was given the OK to move out of the ICU portion of the NICU and into the "Baby Steps" area. This is the section of the NICU for babies that no longer need an isolette (incubator) to maintain their temperature, and don't have ventilators or IVs. Hannah still has the nasal cannula for oxygen supplement, and a feeding tube until she's adjusted to exclusive bottle feeding, but she's now in an open crib in a more open room that actually has a skylight to let the babies adjust to the day/night cycle.

So, we just got back from visiting Hannah in her new digs. She seems OK with the new surroundings, pretty much zonked out while we chatted with one of the parents of Hannah's birthday twin, born the same day as Hannah and Steven. We hung around until the midnight touch time, took her temperature, changed her diaper, and tucked her back in. I brought her a preemie boom box . . . essentially a cheap MP3 player velcroed to a cheap speaker, loaded with a dozen lullabies. We'll see how that works out for her, and maybe load it up with Mom's voice next time.

Week 35, Day 5, Thinking Outside the Box

Hannah moved to an open crib today, out of the space-age isolette that maintained her body temperature and into a . . . plastic box, is what it looks like to me. But it's a very nice plastic box on a stand, with no lid, which means we can touch and talk to Hannah without reaching or peering through portholes. The move happened because Hannah is now big enough to maintain her own body temperature, 4 pounds 5 ounces at last weigh-in.

(click the photos to enlarge)

Some other firsts today: Her first meal served by Mommy, and a huge burp to show her appreciation.

Hannah's first time in Daddy's arms . . . and I didn't even drop her.

And her first family photo.

I have mentioned previously that Hannah's first eye test and second eye test both came back normal. I wanted to clarify that those were tests number one and two on both eyes together, not a test on one eye, then on the other. The reason I wanted to be sure to clear that up is that I sensed some confusion in some of the emails we got, and didn't want anyone to faint dead away when I announce that her third eye test came back OK today. That's test number three, not eye number three. Anyway, it was good enough that they won't test again for three weeks, instead of the two week intervals up til now. She may not have 20/20 vision, but she's unlikely to be blind. And we're pretty sure she doesn't have a third eye, unless it's under that electrode patch near her armpit. We haven't looked under there.

Week 35, Day 4, Hitting the Bottle

Hannah is doing great today. She got her first chance to drink from a bottle today and surprised the nurse by draining it. They'll give her one bottle a day in place of a tube feeding, and gradually replace tube feedings with bottle feedings until she's off the feeding tube altogether. Tomorrow at the 3pm touch time, Carla will get to feed her for the first time. What are the odds I'll be in the office tomorrow afternoon? Not so good. :-)

On an unrelated note . . . I was filling out a form for the Social Security folks, because preemies by definition are disabled and eligible for some government benefits. In our case, insurance covers almost everything, but for uninsured parents, this is probably a great program. Anyway, I came across the following example of amusing government bureaucracy in the list of things I had to confirm in order to sign Hannah up for these benefits (click the image to enlarge).


All I have to say is . . . those inner-city preemies must a lot tougher than the ones I've seen out here in the 'burbs. And I wasn't aware that our house is an institution, and that Hannah has been living here since birth. Or that Hannah expects that to change. I think the only things she "expects" at the moment is that there will be noisy blobs hovering over her and putting cold things in her orifices and armpits every time she wakes up. And that maybe she might poop in a bit.