Eliza Update - 3/3 8pm

Dear friends and family,

Not much is new with Eliza today, which tends to be good news. Due to elevated carbon dioxide levels in Eliza's blood over the past several days, the doctor decided today to slow down a little bit in the respirator weaning process, but Eliza still continues to get stronger and head in the direction of another extubation attempt. We're told that if all goes well, this could happen early next week.

Eliza is almost up to "full feedings" at this point, which means she's receiving almost the maximum amount of milk needed by a baby her size. She continues to digest well. Now that her swelling is all but gone (photos to come soon, as soon as the film is developed--we promise!), the nurses have recalculated her actual weight: 7lbs. 9ozs. as of this morning. She'll hopefully start gaining healthy weight consistently now.

Meanwhile, I survived a very mild bout of Sam's stomach flu; thanks for your prayers. Many people have asked recently how Luke is holding up: he's been remarkably flexible and is currently thoroughly enjoying the company of Papa (my dad), though he is definitely showing more signs of missing his mom and dad recently. On a positive note, after a couple of weeks of not wanting to talk about Eliza, he has begun asking when she'll come home to play trains with him!

People have also asked recently about our ability to hold Eliza when we visit. Over the past couple of weeks, now that she doesn't seem to be suffering from any more seizures, we can hold her all we want--and we do! This is much easier now that all of her intravenous lines are gone; she has only her breathing tube, feeding tube, and heart/respiration/oxygen monitors connected at this point. Her Grandma 'Cinda (Sam's mom) and Nana and Papa (my parents) have also been able to spend time holding her.

Speaking of FAQs, Eliza is still on three anticonvulsants, but other than those, she's on no meds other than an iron supplement (to boost her red blood cell production). She will likely be put on a course of steroids before her next extubation attempt, though, to help reduce airway swelling.

Over the past several weeks, the lyrics of a favorite Amy Grant song, "Carry You," have often run through my
head:

"If I can walk on water
And calm a restless sea
I've done a thousand things you've never done

And I'm weary watching
While you struggle on your own
Call my name, I'll come

I give vision to the blind
And I can raise the dead
I've seen the darker side of Hell
And I returned
And I see these sleepless nights
And I count every tear you cry
I know some lessons hurt to learn

Lay down your burdens, I will carry you
I will carry you, my child."

As we struggle as parents to carry our children through this difficult time, we continue to be so grateful that God's love and care for us are much higher and wider and deeper and stronger than we can ever understand.

Love,
Daniele, Sam, Luke, and Eliza