From time to time we still had to use the NG tube to drain his stomach. Unfortunately, there was no other way to empty it since his stomach didn't work, and he could no longer throw up. I really hated having to do that. It looked so uncomfortable, and I just couldn't imagine that this was going to become a way of life for him.
When they first started the tube feedings, things seemed to go well. It wasn't long before they increased the rate of the drip and then waited to see how he responded, but it seemed like a painfully slow process. Increase the rate and wait. Increase it some more and wait. Time always seems to go by more slowly when your waiting.
Christopher seemed to be tolerating the drip, so they decided to add a little formula. They lowered the rate and started all over again. Drip, drip, drip...slow and steady. The machine delivered its contents into Christopher's intestines. As more and more formula dripped in, Christopher started to become more and more uncomfortable. Then he started crying, and his entire abdomen became distended.
Every fiber of my being was screaming that something was wrong. My fears were confirmed when I went to change his diaper and found blood clots. I have never been an athletic person, but I became remarkably quick and agile when I saw blood in his diaper. I dove for the button, the button you push for help. When the nurse came in and saw Christopher's diaper she moved quickly too to alert the doctor.
|Even when they are sick, babies like to play.|
As it turned out, my worries and suspicions that something was wrong were proven to be true when Christopher developed a temperature. Not only was his temperature up, but his stomach was growing even larger. He was crying, and crying, and crying non-stop. I walked him and rocked him, but nothing could console him, ease his pain. Surely, this was NOT how things were supposed to go. Why am I the only one who seems to get it? The doctor just looked at me like I was crazy. I'm not a doctor, but it seems very obvious to me that something is NOT right. Why can't he see it too? Why does it always seem like I have to fight, fight for them to believe me?
The nurses were in and out more than usual. They were keeping a close eye on things. His diapers were checked, his temperature was taken, and his abdomen was examined. I guess I wasn't the only one who thought there was something wrong. The nurses were nervous too. Something wasn't right. They knew it too, but all we could do was wait, wait for it to declare itself.
If you have never accepted Jesus Christ as your Lord and Savior, you can pray like this: