No more days at the NICU for the Wingate family. Harper came home this weekend. Whew.
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Tuesday, July 27, 2010
Thursday, July 1, 2010
The longest three minutes of my day.
If I want to visit my kids in the NICU, I gotta scrub in.
The "scrub in" occurs at a double sink near the entrance. There I grab a little individually wrapped sponge soaked with very harsh soap. I turn the sink on with my knee like I do every day and a timer above the basin begins. I must scrub for 3 minutes. I start scrubbing. I clean my nails with the bristles on the back of the sponge. I soap up to my elbows. I scrub my hands and between my fingers. I rinse off and do it all again. I take a deep breath and look at the timer. 30 seconds have passed. Seriously? Only 30 seconds?
Don't get me wrong. I understand why I must scrub in. Preemies are very susceptible to germs and can get all kinds of infections. I am willing to go the distance for my little ones. But, that doesn't make the three minutes go any faster. Add to this the fact that I am usually running late for the feeding, hauling my diaper bag full of pumped breast milk, my computer, my water bottle, all my breast pump parts and sweating from the 100 degree walk from the parking lot and three minutes is an eternity!
I press on and keep scrubbing. My back hurts from leaning over the sink. My mind wanders. What kind of mood will my girls be in today? Will Harper be able to finish her whole bottle without choking herself? Which nurse will we have? God, I hope it's not that mean one from yesterday. How bad will Eliza's diaper smell? Will she poop all over me again? When can I take my daughters home?
Finally, three minutes have passed! I finish scrubbing and sigh. I dry off my hands and grab my 100 pound diaper bag.
The clerk buzzes me in, I turn the corner and the longest three minutes of my day? Worth every second...
The "scrub in" occurs at a double sink near the entrance. There I grab a little individually wrapped sponge soaked with very harsh soap. I turn the sink on with my knee like I do every day and a timer above the basin begins. I must scrub for 3 minutes. I start scrubbing. I clean my nails with the bristles on the back of the sponge. I soap up to my elbows. I scrub my hands and between my fingers. I rinse off and do it all again. I take a deep breath and look at the timer. 30 seconds have passed. Seriously? Only 30 seconds?
Don't get me wrong. I understand why I must scrub in. Preemies are very susceptible to germs and can get all kinds of infections. I am willing to go the distance for my little ones. But, that doesn't make the three minutes go any faster. Add to this the fact that I am usually running late for the feeding, hauling my diaper bag full of pumped breast milk, my computer, my water bottle, all my breast pump parts and sweating from the 100 degree walk from the parking lot and three minutes is an eternity!
I press on and keep scrubbing. My back hurts from leaning over the sink. My mind wanders. What kind of mood will my girls be in today? Will Harper be able to finish her whole bottle without choking herself? Which nurse will we have? God, I hope it's not that mean one from yesterday. How bad will Eliza's diaper smell? Will she poop all over me again? When can I take my daughters home?
Finally, three minutes have passed! I finish scrubbing and sigh. I dry off my hands and grab my 100 pound diaper bag.
The clerk buzzes me in, I turn the corner and the longest three minutes of my day? Worth every second...
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