In early May, Saimi’s condition was already relatively stable, and she had recovered so well that she could be transferred to an inpatient ward at the New Children’s Hospital. For the move, Elli and I were exceptionally both allowed to be present at the same time, and we wheeled Saimi in her hospital bed from the Women’s Hospital through the connecting corridor to the neighbouring building.
When we first heard about the upcoming move, the thought of it felt stressful. This was already the fourth hospital, and we would once again have to adapt to a new environment and daily routines. We would also meet numerous new nurses and doctors, and we would have to go over the same things with them all over again, which was both frustrating and exhausting. Of course, we understood that moving to a regular ward was a welcome change, as it signalled a significant improvement in Saimi’s condition. Indeed, right after the transfer, we both somewhat unexpectedly felt a sense of relief, which was probably because the move was kind of a concrete step towards a more normal life.
Our new “home” was located on the sixth floor of the New Children’s Hospital, on the ward named Mountain. Because Saimi still required close monitoring and continuous care, her room was directly opposite the nurses’ station. Our first impression of the room was that it was luxurious. The New Children’s Hospital had only been open for two years, so everything still felt pretty much brand new. The room was spacious; in addition to Saimi’s bed and all the medical supplies, it had a sofa, a lounge chair, a small table with chairs, a mini-fridge, and its own decently sized bathroom. There was also a large flat-screen TV on the wall, and each child had their own tablet computer, which could be used, for example, to play music or watch children’s shows. The room was also very bright, with two windows on one wall offering a view over Helsinki.
At first, it felt as though we had moved into a hotel room. Soon, it actually began to seem like the space had been designed with hotel guests in mind rather than child patients and their families. For instance, the fridge stayed at a constant 16 degrees, meaning it could not be used to store breast milk or food, and it was mostly suitable just for chilling red wine. The bathroom had a small bathtub, but the entire hospital lacked a baby bath support suitable for washing a baby, so we went and bought one ourselves so that we could wash Saimi safely. The sofa and lounge chair both looked nice, but they were quite impractical and uncomfortable for spending time with a small child. Of course, we were very pleased to have our own luxurious room, and it was mostly a matter of different oddities that we often wondered about. Luckily for us, the ward also had the old familiar kangaroo chair that was perfect for holding Saimi in our arms, and it was brought to our room.
When moving to Mountain, Saimi had reached a length of 45 centimetres and a weight of 2,320 grams. Although she was still very small and growing slowly, in our eyes, Saimi was already a big girl. At birth, Saimi weighed only 860 grams and was 25 centimetres long, and now, looking at photographs, we marvelled at how tiny she had been just a few months ago. As Saimi’s condition improved, her growth also accelerated slightly. Perhaps because growth takes so much energy, she had a better appetite for milk, both directly from the breast and from the bottle. It was funny to watch how eagerly Saimi sucked milk from the bottle. Often when we let go of the bottle, it just wobbled from side to side in the air but never slipped out of her mouth. If a milk bottle was not available, a pacifier usually rocked furiously in Saimi’s mouth as a substitute. Now that the strong painkillers had also been gradually tapered off, Saimi was much more alert when awake, and she liked to gaze at her surroundings. For instance, sometimes Saimi spent several hours at a time with me or Elli, looking at each other and babbling.
The day after checking into Mountain, Saimi had an MRI scan of her head, and a few days later, pediatric neurologist Pirjo came to speak with us about the results. Pirjo told us that, unfortunately, extensive damage was visible in Saimi’s brain. She noted that she was somewhat surprised by the results because Saimi had not shown any signs of such massive injury. Previous ultrasound scans of the brain had also found no abnormalities. We were aware of the possibility of brain damage, especially related to the medical error, but the news came as a shock and once again knocked the wind out of us. On the other hand, Pirjo said that the brains of young children in particular are still very plastic, meaning they can sort of reorganize themselves and adapt to the damage, which is why the actual consequences of the brain damage cannot yet be assessed. Time would tell. At that moment, though, it felt really difficult to remain hopeful about the future.
A couple of days later, Saimi had an EEG scan, which in turn revealed disturbances in the brain’s electrical activity, something that is apparently typical for premature babies. However, the scan showed no signs of epileptic discharges, which was a welcome piece of good news.
At Mountain, we were able to be more active with Saimi. Our room had plenty of space to move around and do things. Saimi still received medications and nutrition around the clock directly into her bloodstream via infusion pumps, but the tubes were long enough that they did not prevent us from moving around the room. Sometimes we would sit together in the armchair and listen to music, at other times we would explore toys on the play mat on the floor, and often Saimi would just enjoy rocking in her bouncer for a long time.
For the first time, we could now also move outside the hospital room with Saimi and go for walks. We placed Saimi into a hospital stroller, took the battery-operated infusion pumps with us, and started rolling along the hallways. It felt wonderful to get to do something as ordinary as pushing Saimi in a stroller. When the weather was nice, we would also sometimes go spend time with Saimi on the ward’s sunny balcony, which offered a beautiful view toward the city.
