Good news, not so good news today. The good news is that Savannah’s smashed her previous pb of breathing without the need for a ventilator but the bads news is that, just as they warned us might happen, sure enough she was put back on it this morning.  The bouts of apnea and bradycardia ie not breathing and dropping heart rate (Roz is going to prepare a glossary of medical jargon in one of her next posts to save explaining each of the terms each time and for anyone interested in pursuing an amateur interest in neonatal medicine!) had been increasing and this morning they were coming thick and fast when we arrived at the hospital so the docs decided it was time to re-intubate. She put up a great performance and even tried to fight off the tube in a last ditch attempt to stay on the cpap machine but in the end the docs got their way as she just doesn’t have the strength to go it alone yet.  We’re hopeful that it’s just fatigue from her prematurity but she’s being tested for infections too and on antibiotics to be in the safe side.  Not a lot of fun for Roz to have to watch this all unfold this morning and be dragged or into the Quiet Room (aka the “we have some not great news to tell you room”) by the consultant to explain what was happening.  Another set-back but an almost inevitable, and hopefully entirely manageable, one. Such a stressful morning today that we barely even had time to register that SJ has finally got back up to and surpassed her birth weight and is now weighing in at a whopping 874g.

And so onto the other heroine of this tale….Roz, or as all if the doctors and nurses call her, “mummy”. In addition to the small tasks of giving birth at a moments notice, having a small procedure in the operating theatre to remove the pp (see post 2 or the glossary when written) and taking the whole thing in her stride,  Roz has also been kept busy 24/7 with relentlessly and religiously expressing milk for SJ to drink.  Whilst vainly attempting not to apply too much pressure during a stressful enough time,  the docs have made clear from hour 1 that the very best medicine known to man for preemies is mum’s breast milk. So from the very first moment possible,  Roz has been expressing milk every two hours during the day and every four hours at night,  with the sort of precision timing and commitment to the task in hand,  rarely seen outside of military circles.  And with each expressing session taking a good 45 mins to eek out the valuable mummy milk that’s helping keep Savannah alive and growing day-by-day, that gives Roz barely an hour and a quarter between sessions before the next alarm sounds on her phone and she’s back to it again.  And this is happening 24 hours a day, 7 days a week,  with no opportunity to pause. It’s an impressive enough feat for any new parent to master the art of functioning in the middle of the night, deprived of sleep whilst “merrily” answering the cries of their baby to feed them on demand. For Roz tho, getting up in the middle of the night to sit in a room on her own, expressing milk with no baby in hand to enjoy and take comfort from and just re-runs of The West Wing and a photo of Savannah for company, the ask is monumental and her strength and perseverance, incredible.

It’s been a tough day today, one of the ones they warned us about, but nonetheless as I write this, Roz is off expressing milk for SJ for the umpteenth time today before, heading back to read some more to Savannah so she can get used to our voices, and then it’ll be time for the next expressing session.  That’s why I know SJ’s going to be fine……with her mother’s determination (some might say, stubbornness, but see the glossary Roz is going to write to confirm!) and strength,  there’s no way SJ’s not going be like her and at home, yelling at the rugby on tv, in no time.