Andy was fighting to get us home. He was telling the Community Team that we were ready to go home, and telling the Ward Staff that the Community Team had everything ready at home for us. It was a huge double bluff that worked. Three weeks post-op we were almost ready to go home.
Emma and I sat in the quiet little room all day on Friday, interrupted just by the occasional muffled sobbing of Mrs R. It was so sad, heart-breaking. I will never forget it.
We had brought a lot of things from home. Emma's clothes, toys, my clothes, books, even a footstool which made feeding Emma more comfortable. On Saturday, Andy started taking things to the car ready to take home. It was so exciting. I hadn't been home for almost 5 weeks. Staying in the parents accommodation was great, it was wonderful to spend time with Andy not in public. I had missed that so much. I just wanted to put Emma in the car and go home right then and there. It was hard to wait.
Eventually Monday morning came around, and I hadn't had to go back to the ward for help, and Emma was still alive. I suppose that was the aim. I purposefully only took Emma's nappy bag & trach equipment back to the ward with me. It was early, and parents were just starting to stir. I sat in Emma's room, and a nurse came in and offered me some toast. She laughed and said "You're going home today aren't you. I don't know your name?" I had always been Emma's Mom!
It was a long day, waiting for all of the different Drs from different departments, and then waiting for the prescriptions for the various medication. It was after lunchtime when we finally left the ward, and started to make our way home.