Right after he was born, the doctors noticed he was having trouble with too much fluid remaining in his lungs. They went to drop a suction tube down his throat when they ran into another problem. His asophogus was not fully connected to his stomach. So suddenly he was being transported to the Women and Infants intensive care unit for further eval. Steph remained at the hospital to recover from the child berth while I went up to Providence to be with our new son.
In Providence, they found two holes in his heart and some underdevelopements that will require surgery to correct. They found his intestine not fully developed, and a few anomolies with his asophogus, and windpipe. All of these are completely fixable with todays doctors, but timing has become the issue with him being so young and the doctors wanting to make sure his heart can handle the operations.
The first day of his life has been unexpected and I feel awful for what he has to go through. The night he was born was quickly pulled from a sentimental moment to a whirlwind of decision making and doctor consulting. Steph never got to hold the baby, only look at him and touch him for a short while from a wheelchair. When I followed him to Providence hospital, the doctors wanted to have him moved to Boston hospital that same night for immediate heart surgery. I'm doing my best to relay this information back to Steph while reading surgical waivers, and still sound calm and optimistic. Well, Quinn's heart kept beating steadily and his blood oxygen level rose up and maintained. So the doctors shifted priorities of having him moved again. They will now be repairing the anomolies other than his heart because his heart is strong.
We are still in the IC unit in Providence. Steph joined me today and we've been hanging with Quinn. The poor guy has quit a few IV's and tubes going into him. The section we are in will only allow parents, and one grandparent at a time that is accompanied by one of us. Quinn is surrounded by tiny premie babies, so even at six pounds he's looking like the big kid on the block.
I have a few pictures from the first night that I spent with Quinn. It was day two for me without sleep. No sleep feels much different than it did at 20yrs old in the navy.
This is Quinn about two hours after his birth. He was moving around, breathing good, and crying.
Once Quinn and I got to Providence, I finaly got to hold him. With nothing to do all night but hang by his side alone, I got in some good bonding time. And a one of a kind true test of whatever emotional capacity I thought I had. I don't know how I looked, but I don't think I hid my nerves very well. A few of the nurses watched my face as the doctors explained the issues to me and began crying themselves.
When he cries or gets fussy, his blood oxygen level goes down because of how his heart pumps the blood. He stays on these calming meds that keep him pretty much sedated and keep his testoserone in check. So most of the time he's just asleep with the machines monitoring him.
And these are some close ups.