Update #9 on Isabella Rose – April 21, 2006 – 73 Days Old – Gestational Age: 35 weeks

Things are looking great for Isabella – literally!

On Tuesday, Dr. Lee, her ophthalmologist, examined her eyes for the first time since her surgery last week. He warned me that a baby’s eyes often look worse after 7 days, and that it often takes at least two weeks to see any progress, so I braced myself as I watched him examine her. “Ok, Mommy, things look good - she has stepped back from the ledge,” were the next words I heard him say. Isabella’s eyes are already showing regression of her ROP and Plus Disease, and although it will be another month until he can call the surgery successful, Dr. Lee told me that what he saw this week was the “best possible result we could hope for at this stage”. Even stoic, oh-so-serious Dr. Lee gave me a tiny, celebratory smile as he left Isabella’s room.

After ten long weeks of seemingly endless medications to treat her preemie conditions, Isabella now only needs drops to sooth her eyes from the rigors of her surgery. There are supplements added to the 35ccs of formula she drinks every three hours to help her grow big and strong, vitamins and minerals which a baby accumulates, for the most part, in the last trimester of pregnancy, which Isabella never reached. Isabella now weighs 1,675 grams or 3 pounds, 11 ounces, about three times her lowest weight.

But most importantly, last weekend, after 65 days, Isabella took a deep breath without her CPAP, and then another, and another, and hasn’t looked back since. As one of the doctors told me yesterday, this is the most important milestone for a preemie, the one that “puts them on the launch-pad to go home.”

We also received some “stinky” news – after weeks of sponging Isabella down, they gave it to us straight - “your baby really needs a bath!” Amy, her nurse, whipped out a washbasin the size of a cereal box, stripped Isabella down to nothing and plunked her in the warm water. As Isabella shreaked from the shock of it all, I manned two cameras as the rest of the room gathered around to watch. Amy slid Isabella’s slick body into Patrick’s hands a few moments later, as everyone giggled watching him struggle with her wriggling limbs. In a place where levity is a luxury, we all jumped at the chance to celebrate Isabella’s soapy rite of passage.

Yesterday, I got another, big surprise. Just as I opened the door to Room 415 of the NICU, as I’ve done each morning for 74 days, I heard someone say “Oh Mommy, she’s gone – we moved her to 409”. With that, Lynn, one of the nurses, locked arms and lead me to the coveted last room at the end of the hallway. There, in the farthest corner, next to a window with a beautiful view of the East River, laid Isabella, sleeping peacefully in her isolette.

They call Room 409 the “feed and grow room” which sounds like a place you put your houseplants when you go on vacation. The babies in this room are stable, pink and chubby, hooked up to monitors that hardly ever have a reason to make a sound. The nurses here handle four babies instead of just two as in the other rooms, because these preemies need so much less care. In Room 409, you hear talk about swaddling techniques, car seat installations, and what outfit they’ll be wearing for that first ride home. It’s hard to believe that just down the hall from the battles being waged in Room 415 exists this kind of OZ, where babies just get to be – babies. No intravenous lines or CPAP tubes, no ventilators or nasal cannula, no mothers crying, no priests administering last rites. They should pave the hallway between these two rooms with yellow bricks.

Enjoy the pictures of Isabella’s first bath – she’s never looked more unhappy! And another of her looking quite pleased to be off CPAP at last!

Thanks for staying with us throughout this bumpy ride – it’s great to at last feel a smoother road beneath us, isn’t it?

Much love,
Marcia, Patrick, Jade