There And Back Again.

The thrilling conclusion to our eventful year last week.

Parts One and Two are here.

Tuesday Evening
I went back to the ward and waited for what seemed like three days but actually was probably less than 45 minutes.  I barely noticed at first, but when I took a moment to think of something other than self-pity and concern, I saw that Ivan’s crib had been made and warm blankets put at the end.  It felt like coming home after I had him and seeing that the girls had cleaned the house – things were going to be okay.  Thank you, Ayanna.

About ten minutes after I got back, a nurse popped her head in and said, “This is for Ivan Alexander.”

Thank you, Dee and Bryan.  He now has permanent place of honor in Ivan’s bassinet.  What baby doesn’t need a guard dragon?  I should warn you that by the time baby Ivan discovers the “squeeze me” dragon roar voice box, it will have been worn out by Ivan Sr.

Time dragged, and I hovered outside the room so I could see as soon as my son was on the ward.  When they did arrive with him, he was on this huge bed – okay, the bed was grownup-sized, but he looked so tiny in the middle of it – and he was still out.  They wrapped him in about a bazillion of the warm blankets and set him in my arms.  I don’t know what about my demeanor made them think I wouldn’t settle for them putting him in the crib…

Ivan Sr and Opa Peter arrived not too shortly after, and Opa got to see his first grandson for the first time:

And bliss of a sort was had by all.  I sent the guys home for the night (I figured one of us should sleep) and resigned myself to a night of wakefulness and anxiety.

While I had the wakefulness, Ivan Jr did not.  A nurse came in and said, “Has he eaten yet?” And I realized he’d let me sleep for three hours.  The nurse was concerned but to me, this was the best sign that he was recovering.  He did have a good feed and didn’t throw anything up – and that was even better.  I may have leaked a little around the eyes when I woke later and realized he’d kept everything down for the first time in four days.

Wednesday morning

Morning brought a visit from Dr. Riley and plans for Ivan’s discharge – that day!  I was so excited.  While we waited for the paperwork and the last checkup by the 4West department head, our day nurse chatted me up about natural labor and epidurals.  Having become a recent convert to the Church of the Blessed Epidural, I’m not sure I convinced her to go natural.  I did talk to her about transition and how to get through it, and I hope she goes for it – it will mean disproportionately a lot to her because it’s her first, and because she has so many women telling her she can’t.  For me that’s the biggest reason why she should.  Screw the naysayers.
But it’s easy for me to say – it’s her baby and I don’t have to give birth to it.

I also had a visit from the hospital lactation consultant – about halfway through the day Tuesday, I noticed that someone put a note on our door – well, there were two; one said “NO NPO” which means “do not feed this child” – that said “BREASTFEEDING MOM, PLEASE KNOCK.”  And it actually WORKED.  Poor Dr. Riley (our only male doctor) forgot one time and started to walk in and remembered at the last moment and apologized profusely.  I thought it was kinda funny.  I’d been draped the entire time I’d been pumping while Ivan Jr couldn’t nurse, and I was draped now that he was nursing.  And I’d been there for a couple days already, doing this.  But I thought the sign was sweet.

Anyway, the visit went… interestingly.  I couldn’t help but think that it would have been a bit more useful when I was freaking out about my milk supply Monday evening.  I also thought it was kinda funny that she was so concerned about the tiny 2 oz. bottle that we give him at home after his last feeding of the night, which has his vitamins in it – she strongly suggested I get a supplement which could be applied in a single drop dosage to my breast instead.

Really?  He nurses fine, my supply was really going like gangbusters until this hospitalization… am I that threatened by a measly 2 ounces of formula? 

Anyway, she had a trainee with her, and they fussed over me and were so encouraging and complimentary, that I felt I’d taken a blue ribbon at the county fair and no one had told me til now.

By the time they left I was kinda worn out and feeling very, very old.

Wednesday afternoon

We were being discharged!  Hooray!  I wish I’d had the foresight to take a picture of the cute little red wagon nurse Kia brought for us to load up the accumulated crap of a 3.5 day stay – how did we get so much stuff?  Much cooler than the ugly grey cart I used when I brought Ivan Jr home the first time.  Gotta love Children’s. 
Everything about the hospital was so neat.

I’ll have to get more pictures when we go back for Ivan’s follow-up appointment in a few weeks.

So now we’re home, and trying to get things back to “normal-“ which is really funny, because we haven’t had a normal week since he was a month old (I feel like it was more a lull in the action than anything).  I’m worried about my milk supply even though I pumped sporadically (when I could) at the hospital – he’s cluster feeding and at night it’s particularly trying.  Were it not for kellymom,  I may have well given up or felt I wasn’t producing enough.  Time will tell, but he seems to continue to thrive.  His laparoscopic incisions have healed nicely, the surgical glue is gone, and we took a bath together in Mama’s tub last night.  He enjoyed it thoroughly. 

I almost hate to say it out loud for fear of jinxing us, but I think we’re back to good.

Oh, and I have to include this for posterity, and because I feel an unholy glee at the thought of sharing it with his first serious girlfriend:

Now, if that doesn't make you smile, there is no hope.