December 23, 2008 at 12:39 am 2 comments

Back in the hospital, and tonight for our dedication we were rewarded with fitted sheets! We are working on bringing the boys’ feedings closer together, and moving through them with equal parts speed and care. You can easily let two hours get away from you in the nourishing of three infants, which is a problem when the rounds start every three hours. 

It occurs to me how comfortable we’ve become with these boys. Four weeks ago I was skittish at even holding a baby, and all of their strange grunts and facial ticks pulled forth from my belly a mild but mounting panic. But now, after having heard so many of those grunts and seen so many of those bulged eyes and squoonched pusses (I vow to use the word “squoonch” in every subsequent blog post) while the boys were connected to oxygen monitors that assured me they were inning and outing just fine, I feel no hesitation at yanking out their wires and taking them for a stroll. Tonight I woke Alex up by laying Pablo in front of her face (as she had done to me this morning), and later, when she was feeding Pabs, I marched Levi in and lay him down right next to his brother. This would have worked out splendidly had Levi not been so anxious for food (I was warming up his bottle in the other room). What happened is that Levi leaned over and attempted to eat Pablo’s ear, and the conflicting impulses that surged through me were A) Separate them!!! and B) Where’s the camera??  Sorry to you, dear reader, that impulse A won out.  

Despite all my pontificating on the subject, diapers hold no fear at all for me, nor do the various ointments we need to apply to the boys’ most sensitive areas when the redness is on the rise. I know several burping positions, though I am not quite expert at actually calling forth the guttural tremor whose purpose I only now understand for the first time. My favorite position is up on my shoulder though, with Pablo’s or Levi’s or Satchel’s head resting on its side, breathing milky breath into my face and appearing so completely soothed by my gentle pats and rubs.  This is what playing with dolls should be like, I sometimes think. I feel no concern as I carry the woozy squirrel back to his bassinet. I know I won’t drop him, despite the thousands of items I’ve let slip through my fingers over the years. I know I might wake him, but I also know he’ll fall back asleep. I know if he cries, it may be because he was a bit of a glutton at the fount, and that sometimes a little extra sucking on his binky will calm him (and sometimes it won’t). 

Alex and I have no timeframe. The boys may come home in a day, or maybe a week. I think a week is more likely, and I even think two weeks is not out of the question. We are rolling with it, enjoying the gradual shift in authority from the nurses to us, marveling at the fact that we’re very quickly becoming bona fide (certified? is there a certificate at some point?) parents. 

And now, an hour and half of sleep before nurse Rebecca comes to rouse me for Pab’s two o’clock bottle.


Entry filed under: update.

28 Days Later Happy happy

2 Comments Add your own

  • 1. Squidocto  |  December 23, 2008 at 9:02 am

    I think the spit-up on your shoulder is the only certificate you get — at least until, years from now, they start putting dents in your car.

  • 2. shnootre  |  December 23, 2008 at 9:16 am

    Ah dents in me car – that’ll be something. I wonder if they’ll be like me, and throw a ball through the garage window and then deny it until the cows come home. You’ve seen me as an adult, so you can only imagine the trail of destruction I left as a child.

    By the way, every time I see a comment from you, I say your name in a boomy, mock-echoey baritone at least four times. SQUID. OCTOOOOOOOO. It doesn’t get old (at least not to me…)


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