Eliot is recovering amazingly well from her PDA surgery last Wednesday. I was in desperate need of a success story before she and her little heart were transported to Scottish Rite, so I talked to a parent of a NICU baby who had just had the surgery done the week before. Her son had been on painkillers - morphine - for five days after his surgery. So, of course, that's what I was expecting for Eliot.
Instead, Ellie Mak was given painkillers (not as strong as morphine) on the day of her surgery, then moved to Tylenol every four hours on Thursday. That night, only one night after her surgery, she took matters into her own hands, and extubated herself from the ventilator. She was taken off Tylenol for good and put back on the C-PAP for two days. On Saturday morning, she was placed back on the nasal cannula at room air, and by Sunday she was feeding again on breast milk. She is now up to two teaspoons, or 10cc's of milk, and is 3 lbs. 1oz today. Mommy did a little happy dance for hitting the three-pound mark. Dee daa daa daa daa dee dee.
I always knew I would be proud of my children, but I thought it would be because they walked early; or ate all of their peas; made the honor roll; or got accepted to Stanford (but then declined because it was too far away from their parents). I did not expect pride on this large of a scale. Most kids at this age are eating, peeing, puking and pooping. Her story is so much more involved - so much more scary and intense (though it does involve the "basics" too, and they stink just as good). I suspect, if she continues to live her life with the same kind of grit and determination that she has showed during her first few weeks on Earth, she will reach superhero status in no time. And that will make her mommy very, very proud.