Life Part 4!

The doctor led me through a beech coloured double door, and in there the first thing I noticed was the artificial strip lights, man this room was bright. Straight ahead was 5 beds in a row, no curtains around the beds all very very clinical and clean - thank god! In front of each bed was a medicine trolley for each child and sat at the end of the bed a nurse for each child. Along the wall with the doors that we had just walked through was a nurses bank with files folders and a telephone. That's when I became overwhelmed. Each bed was filled with a terribly sick child, two of the children were awake and seemed comfortable, one was asleep, the other I saw was a child with burns to his body and he was crying, his cry so harrowing I wanted to either hug him and tell him he'd be okay or run away and leave, the other was my tiny little princess. They offered me a high backed chair and I sat, they obviously could see the mix of emotions on my face. Horror, anxiety, terror, sadness and whole lot of other things. I swear the doc could hear my heartbeat through my chest it was pumping that hard. I stared over at my princess, the long line drip was still there, along with the tube in her nose, a ventilator strapped to my girls tiny face making her chest rise and fall. So peaceful so effortless. Her tiny eyes were shut and the doctor explained they were keeping her sedated with morphine so that they could breathe for her as new borns after ops are lazy breathers. She would kept that way for at least 2 whole days. Her hand was bruised from blood tests that they had performed. Her heads swelling though was reducing already. I was low emotionally very low in fact. So low I'd spent the whole day hardly saying two words to anyone- and for those who knew me that was a first. I sat and stared at my daughters chest rising and falling and then in my darkest hour, I reached inside and found my inner strength. My daughter had the battle of her life as soon as she was born and she was alive and fighting back, I had to do exactly the same!
At around 10pm the nurse told me to go, I didn't have to but she told me I looked exhausted and I had an hours journey home to make before I could go to bed. She was right I was exhausted and reluctantly I left the hospital with the direct number for my child's nurse. I could phone whenever which I was thankful for. I eventually got home to my bijoux flat and cried, my baby was an hour away and I was surrounded by reminders of this! Her cot, her Moses basket and her teeny tiny booties. I missed her already. She was my world. I grabbed one of her blankets, hugged it and sobbed myself to sleep.
The next morning I rang the hospital before I left and they informed me she was okay. So I made my way down there, I was excited, scared and nervous! Once I got there and spoke through the intercom the door buzzed and I made my way through the corridor to the right, through the double doors and the nurse greeted me. She was smiling widely. "Can I just speak to you a sec before you go see your baby?" I nodded and followed her into the relatives room where we were accompanied by a doctor. "Your baby is a strong girl miss, even though we had her on a very very high dosage of morphine to keep her asleep, she woke up on her own and so we have removed the ventilator, she's breathing on her own, we've never seen this before, she is incredible". Wow this news elated me and happy tears streamed down my face. I had this feeling I couldn't explain, that was it I was proud of her! So very proud of her, my angel.
When I went into the room I anxiously walked over to my daughter and even though there were still all the wires and drips there, the ventilator had been removed. Her chest was rising and falling just as it was yesterday, but my baby girl was doing all the work herself. I took as seat and stared at her for ages. On her stomach, just above her belly button there was a white square bandage, where they had operated, the bandage looked huge and I must've gasped because the nurse came over. "It looks bigger than what it is hun" she said, " the incision is only 2 inches" only I thought, my baby is not much bigger. Her words intercepted my thoughts "did you want to hold her?" . Oh my god they were going to let me hold her. "The wires? I don't want to hurt her" I said. "Don't worry she'll be just fine". And with that she laid a pillow in my lap and laid my beautiful daughter on the pillow. She readjusted the wires and drips and there she lay. My daughter my Niquita. She was perfect. Hers eyes opened and she yawned, my heart fluttered an melted. I made her, she was adorable, and having my heart melt over a yawn I knew that instant I was in trouble for the rest of my life, she was going to get her own way a lot! After half an hour the nurse came over and put her back. She would get too cold staying out of the special trolley type incubator for too long as she wasn't dressed. I stood next to her and touched her hand, ever so gently, and she grabbed my finger. I would die for that girl right there, I would hold her hand through life and guide the way. My child was amazing!
The next day came and I buzzed the intensive care door and the nurse said "she's not here anymore", "what...what do you mean?" I stuttered. "Oh no worries honey, she's across the hall in the children's ward, buzz through and the nurse will meet you!" Heart attack averted I did as she asked and the nurse came to the door. "Hi I'm the nurse looking after Niquita today, she's lovely isn't she? Very tiny, very cute and adorable, anyway, um, she has done so well they took her out of intensive care and now she's here. And just to give you hope, most of our babies stay in intensive care for at least a week after the op and day 3 your daughters already out of there! She's incredibly strong". Wow I thought my girls such a tough cookie! The nurse led us 3 doors down this corridor to the left and there she was, in her own room to stop cross infection from other children (a standard procedure for babies), in a little white metal barred cot. The cot may have been little, but my daughter only took up around 10% of it. They had rolled up towels rolled around into what looked like a nest, cocooning Niquita and quite apparently comforting her. The room was sparse, a couple of chairs and a toilet of its own, and the machines and drip equipment. I had been expressing milk for her ad had brought it in and the nurse but what was a minuscule amount in to a syringe and attached it to the tube in her nose and asked if I wanted to do it. I was scared but wanted to do as much as I could for her so I did. I pushed the syringe down to the count of ten and the milk disappeared through the tube down into her tummy. She spent the whole time I was there asleep so I sat watching and on occasion, touching her hand or stroking her head.
Over a week, I had syringe fed my daughter every day, gave her cuddles, even with the drips and wires and made special bonds with the nurses who cared for her. My confidence grew with her, and my medical knowledge did too!
One day on the second week of her stay I buzzed the door and walked into Niquitas room and she wasn't there! Oh my god where is she? I ran to the nurses desk.

To be continued .. Thanks for reading :)