Kyle is seven miraculous weeks old.

He weighs three pounds, fourteen ounces and measures at nearly sixteen inches in length. 

His gestational age is thirty-one weeks and six days. 

Our pint size prince is now king of the micro preemies (per the NICU nurses)! For weeks and weeks, he was the youngest and one of the smallest babies in the NICU. His gestational age and weight now make him the biggest micro preemie on the floor. It's strange to learn that some of the newest NICU babies are younger than 31 weeks, in other words, younger than Kyle, as we had become accustomed to wearing the "youngest baby" badge. 

Some people have asked when Kyle will no longer be considered a micro preemie and the answer is vague; he may always be considered a "micro" preemie. His doctors and nurses still refer to Kyle as a micro preemie. I once asked one of Kyle's nurses when he would graduate to "preemie" status and  she simply stated that a preemie is a term generally used to describe a baby born after 30 weeks gestation. Sufficed to say, that answer did not satisfactorily answer my inquiry, but it does give fuel to the notion that Kyle may always be referred to as a micro preemie. 

A hopelessly adorable micro preemie.

Kyle has had several weeks of pure awesomeness 

(which is not entirely a surprise considering that he was born awesome). 

First of all, Kyle's PICC line was removed. This particular IV was placed through his ankle and wound it's way up through his leg, internally, into his stomach. Parents are not allowed to be present when this IV is placed because the idea of someone doing this unimaginably cruel thing to your impossibly tiny newborn is nothing short of nauseating. The PICC line saved Kyle's life, though. Not only because it delivered necessary vitamins and nutrients, in addition to medication, but because the first time the IV was placed, a post-routine x-ray revealed that Kyle had developed Necrotizing Entercolitis (or a perforated bowel), which, if left untreated, is fatal in micro preemies. Normally, a baby with a perforated bowel or intestine would give an indication of being seriously ill. Kyle was perfectly stable and comfortable and this discovery stunned his neonatologist and nurses. Without that x-ray, Kyle might not be with us. He had emergency surgery the day it was discovered.
He was 5 days old at the time. 

A routine x-ray, due to an IV, saved Kyle's life.

Kyle no longer needs that IV.

Progress!

Next, Kyle surpassed the three pound milestone! Around here, we celebrate every ounce, so when Kyle graduates each pound, we feel like throwing a grand parade of lights and music and balloons and fireworks! Realistically, and in our own subtle way, we usually celebrate these milestones with a picture text to the grandparents and a gloating Facebook post.

 If you recall, in the previous Kyle Chronicles post, I mentioned that Kyle has a heart murmur.

It was a serious cause for concern. Was. 

Last week, Kyle had his first (sponge) bath! When you've got a tiny baby corded to what feels like dozens of machines, odds are a bath is out of the question. In addition to which, micro preemie skin is extremely fragile. At first, the doctors and nurses discouraged any touching because of the delicacy of Kyle's skin. The nurses were sweet and waited until one Saturday evening when Clarke and I were at the NICU together to give Kyle his first bath. Basically, I wiped him down with a warm washcloth and then held him while the nurse washed his hair (which, he LOVED!). Then we faux-hawked his longish locks for a more contemporary 'do. 

We're almost there!

It was an average Wednesday morning as I sauntered into the NICU, determined to love on my newborn as much as time would allow. As I gazed adoringly through the glass of the isolette at my Ky, the nurse came up behind me and said, "Do you notice anything different about him today?"

Kyle was happily sleeping on his belly (micro preemies breathe easier when they sleep on their bellies), his face partially buried into the blankets of his bed. 

"Um, no," I said decidedly, although doubt was tugging at my confidence. 

Why else would she have asked such a question???

"No cannula," the nurse said simply.

"W-h-a-a-a-t?" I shouted.
Shouting is not allowed in the NICU, but under the circumstances...

"WHAT??"

"Where is it?"

"Put it back in!"

"He can't breathe!"

(or rather, I couldn't breathe) 

But, Kyle was breathing. On his own!!

You could have knocked me over with a feather.

This "experiment" is called the 48-hour test. When a preemie requires little to no oxygen, the doctors temporarily remove the cannula to determine the maturity of the baby's lungs. Kyle has rock star lungs and has always required very little oxygen as it is, hence the reason the doctor decided to try the 48-hour test. Kyle barely managed 48 hours before he began struggling with frequent apnea episodes--the fancy, technical term for "forgetting to breathe." I was there when the apnea alarms were sounding every few minutes and along with Kyle's nurse and neonatologist, we decided to replace his cannula and try the 48-hour test a week or two into the future. It was shocking and fun to cheer Kyle on while he went cannula-less, but ultimately, we want Kyle to mature at his own pace. Currently, he is on a very low flow cannula. He just needs the tiniest boost of oxygen while those amazing lungs awesomize. That's a new word for you. You're welcome. 

One last image of my blonde baby, sans the cannula--just moments before they replaced it:

He is much happier with his cannula. And that's okay with us!

And the final dose of awesome-sauce to cherry top the last few weeks is that Kyle is now dressed and swaddled everyday! Clothes and blankets are the privilege of the 1500+ gram-ers. Last week, he hit 1500 grams (3.5 pounds) and *voila* preemie clothes and swaddling blankets! 

Many people have wondered and speculated about Kyle's coming-home date. His doctors have always maintained that micro preemies are generally released close to or around their due date. Kyle was due April 2nd, so we have about two months left before he comes home. In addition to breathing on his own (he can't have any apnea or bradycardia episodes the week prior to coming home) and learning to eat (breastfeed and bottle-feed; right now he receives about 10 ounces of breast milk a day through his NG tube), he must also gain pounds and inches. As long as he continues along the successful path of the last few weeks, then I have no doubt that he'll be home by his due date. I can't wait!! But then again, I can absolutely wait because as much as I want him home, I want him healthy and strong and I am happily patient for that day to come. 

One final parting shot of unequivocal adorableness...