Today was officially the best day of all time. Things were going well from the start - the new Bright Eyes album was released today (and it's amazing), the sun was shining, the morning NICU phonecall was another good one, the bus was just pulling up to the stop as I got there, and I had the exact change for it in my pocket.
More importantly, we arrived at the hospital this morning knowing that we'd be coming out of there as a family of four for the first time. In fact, we'd known since the doctors' round last Tuesday that today was to be the day of our release, on the condition that neither Willow or Stanley got up to any funny business in the meantime. We didn't tell anyone about this, in case it didn't happen again. We couldn't be dealing with explaining to everyone why they're still not home.
So, as I had some things to tie up at work before I could have two whole weeks off, Leela went in on her own again today and I followed on the number 15 a few hours later. Just as I arrived, the doc was about to start doing the final check of our babies to tell us if they were allowed to go home or not. Both of them passed the test, and were given the all-clear.
So that was it then, we were free to go. After 143 days, over 2,000 miles, a parking fine, a car crash, 65 train tickets (only three of which even got checked), two hospitals, ten different cot locations, a PDA ligation, about fourteen blood transfusions, two rounds of steroids, 45 americanos, 32 BP meal deals, 300 phone calls to NICU, a whole Christmas silly season, far too many Zinger towers and 143 sleepless nights, we were finally all going home, together. It was an exciting and scary, but most of all unbelievably happy moment.
We're quite sad to be leaving behind the NICU family who have looked after and put up with us for the last third of a year. We're not going to have anyone to ask a million questions to every day, and generally look really worried in front of. The support we've had as parents is more than anyone could hope for in this situation; sometimes it's even been a pleasure being there. The nurses always know the right thing to say. One thing I remember someone said after about three days in, was quite simply 'We'll get them through this'. Something in the way she said it made me believe her, despite the fact that so early on, no-one could have known what might happen, or known how joyful or terrible the outcome might have been. But those few words were said with such confidence that they kept ringing in my head the whole time we were in there. There were some moments that were just too awful to comprehend. When Willow came back from Southampton and her lungs were in such a dire state, we really didn't know if she'd make it out of there. But her little fighting spirit was what pulled her through in the end; we really shouldn't have even doubted her. If they can both get through this, they'll get through anything life decides to throw at them.
So we said some emotional goodbyes, and walked out of NICU for the last time as residents. We were now those annoying people coming out of the hospital with the car seats, who we'd been looking at so bitterly since September. It didn't seem quite real, and still doesn't. We are now actual parents, and have full responsibility for these two precious little humans.
We're coping reasonably well so far, although it does get quite hectic when both the babies wake up hungry at the same time. It's still a pain having to cart around oxygen bottles and sat monitors everywhere we go, but that's a small price to pay for having them home with us. We're going to spend the next few days hibernating; just the four of us getting to know each other. We're going to have to be extremely strict with infection control. After seeing what happens to them when they get an infection, it's not worth taking the risk. So no-one other than immediate family will be able to handle them for a few months, until the summer arrives and brings with it less germs than winter.
Usually, right about now, I'd be phoning the NICU hotline for an update on how our children are getting on; each time dreading bad news on the other end of the line. Now, we just have to look across the room and see them fast asleep, dreaming of eating and never far off waking.
So today is the start of the next phase in the lives of Willow and Stanley. Their story so far has seen a lot more stress and troubles than most people would think is possible. We're ready now for the next installment, and we can't wait to share all their future adventures with them.
More importantly, we arrived at the hospital this morning knowing that we'd be coming out of there as a family of four for the first time. In fact, we'd known since the doctors' round last Tuesday that today was to be the day of our release, on the condition that neither Willow or Stanley got up to any funny business in the meantime. We didn't tell anyone about this, in case it didn't happen again. We couldn't be dealing with explaining to everyone why they're still not home.
So, as I had some things to tie up at work before I could have two whole weeks off, Leela went in on her own again today and I followed on the number 15 a few hours later. Just as I arrived, the doc was about to start doing the final check of our babies to tell us if they were allowed to go home or not. Both of them passed the test, and were given the all-clear.
So that was it then, we were free to go. After 143 days, over 2,000 miles, a parking fine, a car crash, 65 train tickets (only three of which even got checked), two hospitals, ten different cot locations, a PDA ligation, about fourteen blood transfusions, two rounds of steroids, 45 americanos, 32 BP meal deals, 300 phone calls to NICU, a whole Christmas silly season, far too many Zinger towers and 143 sleepless nights, we were finally all going home, together. It was an exciting and scary, but most of all unbelievably happy moment.
We're quite sad to be leaving behind the NICU family who have looked after and put up with us for the last third of a year. We're not going to have anyone to ask a million questions to every day, and generally look really worried in front of. The support we've had as parents is more than anyone could hope for in this situation; sometimes it's even been a pleasure being there. The nurses always know the right thing to say. One thing I remember someone said after about three days in, was quite simply 'We'll get them through this'. Something in the way she said it made me believe her, despite the fact that so early on, no-one could have known what might happen, or known how joyful or terrible the outcome might have been. But those few words were said with such confidence that they kept ringing in my head the whole time we were in there. There were some moments that were just too awful to comprehend. When Willow came back from Southampton and her lungs were in such a dire state, we really didn't know if she'd make it out of there. But her little fighting spirit was what pulled her through in the end; we really shouldn't have even doubted her. If they can both get through this, they'll get through anything life decides to throw at them.
So we said some emotional goodbyes, and walked out of NICU for the last time as residents. We were now those annoying people coming out of the hospital with the car seats, who we'd been looking at so bitterly since September. It didn't seem quite real, and still doesn't. We are now actual parents, and have full responsibility for these two precious little humans.
We're coping reasonably well so far, although it does get quite hectic when both the babies wake up hungry at the same time. It's still a pain having to cart around oxygen bottles and sat monitors everywhere we go, but that's a small price to pay for having them home with us. We're going to spend the next few days hibernating; just the four of us getting to know each other. We're going to have to be extremely strict with infection control. After seeing what happens to them when they get an infection, it's not worth taking the risk. So no-one other than immediate family will be able to handle them for a few months, until the summer arrives and brings with it less germs than winter.
Usually, right about now, I'd be phoning the NICU hotline for an update on how our children are getting on; each time dreading bad news on the other end of the line. Now, we just have to look across the room and see them fast asleep, dreaming of eating and never far off waking.
So today is the start of the next phase in the lives of Willow and Stanley. Their story so far has seen a lot more stress and troubles than most people would think is possible. We're ready now for the next installment, and we can't wait to share all their future adventures with them.
Hi Anthony and Leela- I have been reading your blog most mornings since Nicki let me have the address a while ago and I have been wishing this day for you both. I must admit I have had a few tears when things weren't going right but this morning they were tears of joy! Your are the most wonderful parents and those little dear twins will have a lovely life with you both. I am sending you all lots of hugs and I hope to meet Willow and Stanley maybe at Nicki's house when they are ready to meet visitors. Lots of love Claire and Geoff Sparrow xxx
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