"You're Doing Great, Mom."

I have been beating myself up this week with guilt about Carter being in the NICU.  "What did I do to cause this?" was often a question in my head.  Was it that Tylenol I took?  Or did I walk too much last week and put myself in labor?  Should I have put myself on bedrest to keep the baby in longer?  Someone even suggested it was all the pineapple and strawberries I craved the last month of my pregnancy.  She told me this in the hopes that it was a fixable problem, but in my mind, my gluttony was being blamed for my baby's discomfort.  That's where my mind was.  And because of these feelings, I finally had a breakdown Monday night, sobbing uncontrollably in Byron's arms that this was all my fault.  I felt completely out of control and a terrible mother.

Tuesday and Wednesday turned out to be better days.  We started to see progress in Carter's health.  The vacuum tube finally sucked all the bacteria breeding bubbles out of his intestines, and we were able to let his little gut rest and heal.  And I kept coming to the NICU, even just to sit next to the crib and read, or let Carter hold my thumb.  It was all I could do.

Wednesday night, I timidly asked the doctor if I could see the X-ray from that morning.  Dr. Miner is not Carter's main doctor, but they all work as an incredible team and they know the story and diagnosis of each and every patient in the NICU.  But I will say he is the kindest, sweetest man who makes a point to check on my emotions every time I see him.  With eagerness he clicked on the computer file holding my son's x-ray.  He was pleased to tell my the bowels were working and was pushing the normal gas bubbles down through the intestines in a normal pattern.  We chatted about more positive aspects of Carter's progress, and I felt comfortable sharing my worries about the baby eating again and his fussiness while I held him earlier.  And as we said our goodbyes, Dr. Miner looked right at me and said, "You're doing great, Mom.  It will be ok."  I almost collapsed in relief, but held it together.  I left the hospital uplifted and energized, knowing that I was doing ok, no, great in the eyes of the doctor, and I hope in the eyes of my Heavenly Father.