They call her Mellow Yellow

While Zoey's birth and homecoming were pretty uneventful, ever since her last check-up Zoey and her parents have had much ado. Zoey has developed infant jaundice, a typical and generally benign infant condition that involves the skin looking yellowish. If left untreated, problems can occur, but we're obviously trying to work with the doctors and hospital staff.

There's a little thing that is checked in some infants called 'billyrubin.' (sp?) Basically, if a child has lots of billyrubin stored up in her system, she develops the jaundice colored skin, followed by other problems. If the billyrubin can be cleared away -- through bowel movements, urination, exposure to natural light source, solid feeding and weight gain -- then we all go merrily on our way.

Judy asked me today where the name Billyrubin comes from. I did my best Cliff Clavin impression by explaining that billyrubin is named from the scientist that discovered it. It's true. As it turns out, this scientist was also awarded the most-likely-to-become-yellow award in his high school yearbook. He parleyed that exposure to an interesting career stabbing infants in the foot and withdrawing blood.

At any rate, we go to our doctor on Friday to do a regularly scheduled weight check to make sure Zoey is getting the nuitrition that she needs. We discover that she's lost weight, enough to start being concerned, so we made an appointment for Saturday (today) with a lactation specialist to see what can be done to make sure the milk gets flowing down Zoey's throat. The doctor also notices our yellow princess and orders the lab to check her billyrubin.

The result is a 19.4. My education in this area is still soft, but apparently we'd like to see a 'billy' under 12. Therefore, the doctor orders what he calls a "blanket" that will help Zoey process and remove the excess billy from her system.

So we go home and we wait. And we wait. No contact from the company who's scheduled to deliver this "blanket." Not a huge problem, but my anxiety is starting to rise.

Finally, about 7 hours after our appointment, the tech/delivery guy calls to get directions to our house. Now I'm sure he's a very nice man and he may in fact be absolutely brilliant, but I believe he was still learning the English language. Normally, this wouldn't be an issue. I love working with language learners and I have tons of patience to make sure that communication is established.

The tech guy finally rolls in at 7pm. Meanwhile, supper is ready, my sister Tammy and Grandpa Nyhlen are due to arrive any second, Grandma Livingston (a former labor/delivery RN) is calling for a check-up and teaching me all about jaundice and billyrubin, people are calling right and left to see the baby, Zoey's feeding with Judy and I'm trying to manage all the traffic. So the tech guy rolls in and has this huge bag, as if he's carrying an electronic keyboard to a gig.

He says, "Where you want it?"'

"How about upstairs in the baby's room," I respond, escorting him to the room.

We enter and he unzips the black bag revealing a piece of equipment that looks like a miniature tanning bed. "Don't use when it is in bag," he cautions.

"Ok. How does it work?"

The man grabs the three pronged powercord and says, "Plug this in." Then he reaches for a short cord with a button on the end, resembling one of those self-medicating injection buttons I see on shows like "ER." "This turns it on and off."

There's an outline of a baby on the clear glass set-up. "So I just put her on there and turn it on?"

"Yes."

"How long does she stay on there?"

"Up to doctor. When her billy goes away, she can leave." At this point the doctor had only told me that Zoey would be spending time in a blanket, not laying on a glass plated tanning bed. He then showed me a bluish-green hospital-like garment that uses velcro to attach itself to the top of the light box. "Close baby in there."

"Uh...ok. Thanks." I knew I wouldn't get much more information out of this guy, so I showed him out.

So far I'm uncomfortable with this thing in my house and the prospect of my daughter being zipped in, but my mood darkened quickly as I learned more about how the weekend would shape up. Shortly thereafter I learned that Zoey was expected to stay on that bed 24 hours a day until her billyrubin is back to normal. She can only leave to feed and be changed. If she cries and has been fed and changed, we have to leave her there. No cuddling. No jouncing.

Had I been informed of this when the doctor prescribed the device, I wouldn't have liked it much, but I would've dealt with it and moved on. Having this sprung on my the moment when guests were arriving, dinner was ready, daughter was crying, and machine looked so imposing, I just about lost my mind.

When Grandpa Nyhlen arrived with "Auntie" Gracie (their very cute but still young basset hound), I met him at the door. I think I probably startled him a bit with my brevity and my insistance that Gracie stay out of the way. I called Auntie Tammy and asked that she come over another time. As it turns out, she got my message as she pulled in to our driveway. She obliged and turned back around to home.

Sorry about both events, Grandpa N and Tammy. I was a bit on edge.

Grandma Livingston arrived to check out Zoey and the set-up and to help me out as I began calling phone nurses and the company that delivered the billybed, expressing my deep concern (or, rather, irate ravings) about how this treatment was handled.

After several phone calls and conversations with techs, nurses and our family, we finally figured out how to use the device properly and how it should help Zoey. Throughout the entire process, Zoey was content as could be; it was her parents that needed some swaddling.

Zoey is as comfortable as she can be. Upon further inspection, the bed's top is not glass but some cushiony substance that supports the weight of the baby. Additionally, it makes a pleasing hum in the background, which is always helpful for sleeping infants. Just an hour ago, we discovered that if we placed the entire bed in our pack-and-play crib, then Gracie can come upstairs and begin to meet her niece.

We will not be accepting any visitors while Zoey is in the billybed and possibly not until her weight has caught up a little bit more. She has another doctor's apointment on Monday morning where she'll get her billy checked again. Hopefully, we can get rid of the contraption and start to hold and coo and cuddle with our child by Monday evening.