Breathe, baby, breathe!

Kenna had a rough day.  She has been struggling ever since she was on the CPAP.  And I spoke to her doctor about it yesterday.  I need answers.  I need to know that she's going to perk up and ultimately be fine.

Admittedly, they don't seem as worried as I am.  At the same time, she's my daughter, not theirs.  Still, they have  much invested in her, too.  She's their little miracle baby.  And while she still holds the record for smallest born there, after this weight gain, she's no longer the smallest baby in the NICU.

We're going after a new record now.  We want her to get out in record time.  And in some ways, it seems totally plausible.  All she has to do...is breathe.  

How many of us take that for granted?  I know that I do...until I'm battling a cold.  Then I get it.  Breathing is not easy.  And that is the one big area Kenna has to work on.

She has a lung disease of prematurity that is making something that seems so simple...really a huge struggle.  She isn't maturing in that department as quickly as I would like, or the doctors, for that matter.  Kenna will probably need the steroids again when it is time to take her off the ventilator in a few weeks.  And she needs that PDA to close.  And she needs to be able to gain weight.

She's gaining...slowly.  She's feeding well.  She has pooping mastered.  So now we focus on her lungs.  We pray for healthy flexible lungs.

Every night when we leave, Sam leans close to the isolette.

Sam: Grow, my pretty.  Grow.

And I tell her what I thought so hard the last few weeks she was struggling inside me.

me: Come on, Kenna, grow healthy, and happy, and strong.

That goes for the lungs now most of all.