Mom and baby girl are both doing very well, all things considered. The doctors and nurses keep commenting how strong they both are.

We were told that this assistance isn’t all that uncommon. Kinley’s long journey home will likely be filled with hills and valleys. We’ll have to stand back and look at the overall trek and be careful to not to get too engrossed on individual steps — often it will be two forward, one back.

As a family, we did make progress today. Mom managed to get out of bed and eat a little something and these milestones earned her an afternoon wheelchair trip to see her daughter. It was moving to have our family together for the first time.

Late this evening, we graduated from the ICU to a standard recovery room.

I spoke to her and probably cried a little. I complimented her on how beautiful she was. I gave her updates on her mom — mostly just the good stuff. I confessed how I felt and I promised I’d do better. I told her to keep fighting, but behave for the nurses and the machines.

After an hour, I started to have trouble keeping my eyes open and sitting up. I decided the nurses probably wouldn’t want to pick me up off the floor, so I made my way back up and found mom sleeping peacefully.

I was able to visit Kinley for another one of her hands on sessions today. She wasn’t the least bit impressed with the disruption to her slumber. She didn’t terribly mind getting cleaned, but she kicked her legs when the nurse moved her oxygen monitor and tried to push the nurse’s hand away while she got changed. Although it was difficult to see and hear her cry, I found her feistiness more adorable than anything.

Later in the day she did have a bit of an episode and needed to be calmed down with a little sedation and pain medication.

Kinley’s bilirubin level did get high enough that she’s being given phototherapy. This was expected and not terribly unusual for the circumstances. Otherwise, she’s doing very well.

We started to get a little concerned about mom last night. She hadn’t really eaten yet, so she needed electrolytes. Labs showed we might need more blood, but we’re trying iron first. She got a good night’s sleep and is a different person this morning. She’s been able to put away a little food. After a long walk, I left her in a chair by the window. I turned around for just a minute and she was up on her own, opening the tall, heavy curtains.

We hope to roll down to see our daughter together shortly.

We rolled down for a visit early this afternoon. When we arrived, mom said hello to her resting daughter. Kinley’s heart rate, prominently displayed above her incubator, jumped up for a moment and relaxed. I rounded the corner, fresh from scrubbing in, and greeted my girls. Her heart rate rose slightly, relaxed, and she slept.

I planned our next five hours — meals, naps, walks, and all the other necessities for mom — so she could fit in a second visit. We hoped to make it for another hands on to see her active and mom told me to bring the camera this time. I was a bit embarrassed due to the sensitivity of the environment, but I obliged.

Despite our efforts, we missed the hands on. Still, I listened to mom, shook off my inhibitions, and took a few photos of Kinley. Then the nurse came over with an idea.

Mom would hold her daughter for the first time.

Standing on opposite sides of the incubator, the nurse coached mom as she slid her hands cautiously into the chamber. And then, separated for four days by an elevator, security checkpoint, winding hallways, and a thick plastic box, there they were… lifting each other up.

Kinley cried. Mom cooed and calmed her. Then mom cried and smiled. I focused on recording the moment… and cried later.

Mom just needs to eat a bit more and she’ll be golden. 

We are both finding a rhythm, which is reducing our stess a little and allowing me to check items off my list.

“Really?” she exclaimed.

The excitement carried her through the rest of the day. She nearly ate a full lunch and she had a smoother stride on her walks.

When we made it down to Kinley’s bedside this evening, the nurses had a recliner waiting for her.

Kinley was clearly right at home with her mother, positioned so she could feel her mother’s heartbeat and breaths again. It was the calmest I’d seen either of them.

We were thankfully accepted by the nearby Ronald McDonald House. This will keep us closer to Kinley. It will also be safer for mom, who shouldn’t be in a car right now. Even a small fender bender could be dangerous after her surgery.

Kinley moved down a level in breathing assistance. She’s now back on CPAP, which helps push air into her airway while she handles all the breathing.

Her bilirubin levels are going back up, but aren’t so high that she needs more phototherapy yet. Our nurse last night said we could expect a bounce like this.

Like mom, she continues to eat a little more each day.