No Brain Bleeds!

On Thanksgiving morning we received a call from the neonatal nurse practicioner saying that Henrik might have a brain bleed, but the scan was inconclusive so they'd be doing another scan in a week.  To a certain extent this news violated Memorial Hermann's "we call all the time, not just when the news is bad."  This policy seemed good and reasonable because Minneapolis only called when the news was bad.  So we studied Henrik for the next week, like a conspiracy theorist would study the Zapruder Film, for signs of a brain bleed.  We learned more about brain bleeds and understood that level 1 or 2 brain bleeds are not that bad, while level 3 and 4 bleeds are not good.  We girded ourselves even though he looked fine. 
In the meantime, Henrik was extubated in a manner that last much longer and proved more successful than Anders' dalliance with extubation, but we could not enjoy this accomplishment because in our quiet moments two words flashed across our minds, "BRAIN BLEED....BRAIN BLEED...BRAIN BLEED..." 
Then on Thursday night we received news that the preliminary read of the scan said no bleed, but the radiologist had not seen it yet.  Then yesterday afternoon, Anna texted me "NO BLEED!!!"  I deflated onto the table in the library at school.  My next move was to head downstairs to the bathroom for what felt like the first time in a week.  I felt like I was breathing for the first time since Henrik arrived almost three weeks ago.  We didn't realize just how much stress we were carrying around until a goodly amount of it left.  I felt lighter, and not just the weight I've lost on the Henrik Stress Diet. 
We are leaving the overwhelmingly stressful first act of the preemie hospital stay.  It's the shortest of the three acts, but also the most intense and fraught with danger.  The second act is breathing and growing for the transfer to the special care nursery in Sugar Land.  We may be further into Act II than we thought as I received word today that Henrik might move to nasal cannulas, or "casino breathing" as we call it, early next week!  Henrik is on room air today and a level 5 setting on the c-pap, at setting 2 he moves to cannulas.  The breathing is amazing and a bit disorientating (in a good way) with its speed considering the pokey nature of Anders' progress. 
I held Henrik today for the first time since Sunday and saw him for the first time since Tuesday.  It's hard being away and the guilt is crushing, so today felt great.  Henrik had one deep desaturation where the nurse had to come and rouse him, but it's explainable because he had just finished eating and he had burrowed deep into my chest hair. 
It's legitimately cold here today with high temperatures in the high 30s and windchills this morning at 15-20 degrees.  I don't think it froze this morning, but our neighbor's orange tree might be in trouble tonight.  We came close to a  record high temperature early this week in the low 80s and now we might set the record for the lowest high temperature ever on Pearl Harbor Day. 
We also have had amazing support from friends, colleagues, and church.  We have meals in our fridge for a week with more on the way today!  The outpouring of concern, love, and prayers has been overwhelming.  Thank you all.