We were planning to work until 5 p.m on Sunday then throw our stuff in the truck and take off down to Andrews AFB to spend time with our new FabGrandbaby, Owen. But then my son, Seth called around 12:30 p.m sounding frantic, asking if we could come any earlier. He had taken Sarah for a routine 4 day check up and they put her back in the hospital. He was at home with the baby and Michael, his 10 year old son and really needed us to be here to look after them so he could go back to the hospital.
So, I called the boss and explained the situation, and we got off early and came on down. I had really been looking forward to this quality Grandma time, but not like this. This trip has been a nightmare.
Sarah is still in hospital. We didn’t even know exactly what was wrong until tonight, when I finally got a chance to talk to the nurse on duty. She has a “hospital acquired bacterial infection in her bloodstream”, MRSA. They are giving her a very strong antibiotic called Vancomycin by IV. On Friday, they are taking her over to Walter Reed Hospital to put in a PICC so that they can send her home and continue to give her the antibiotic by IV for 14 days at home. Now, the infection started out at the place where they inserted the first IV when she was in labor with Owen, in her arm. There is a HUGE, and I do mean HUGE, place, about 5 inches by 8 inches, on her upper arm right above the needle hole for that first IV. It is very ugly.
While we are glad that they are taking such good care of her now, we wonder if they had taken such good care of her before this happened if would have happened at all. I am trying to remain calm about this. But, Owen needs his mother. While I am absolutely certain that he does not care WHO is holding his bottle, as long as someone does, I really believe that he needs his mother to be there. And she really wants to be.
So, I have been cooking meals, cleaning house, doing laundry, AND feeding and changing the baby, and getting up in the night with him, and I am here to tell you that no matter how FAB a Grandmother I think I am, taking care of a newborn is a sport for a much younger woman than me. I have found myself wondering about those crazy women you hear about on the news who have gotten pregnant in their late 50’s and in their 60’s with donated eggs–WHAT THE HELL ARE THEY THINKING!??! There is no way I would sign up to do this on a full time basis.
At least the people at the hospital are very understanding about visitation. They have allowed us to bring Owen up to visit with Mommy several times a day. Seth takes him in the morning for a while. Then Jim and I take him in the afternoon, and Seth takes him back for a little while after dinner. She is not able to feed him or change him, but she can hold him and just let him lie on the bed with her for a while, which helps her, I am sure.
What a nightmare!