Day 5 - Rachel goes home

What should be a miraculous time in our lives is instead a rollercoaster of emotion. To those that have called, thank you. I appreciate all of the messages and flowers but sometimes it is too much to go through all of the updates each time. It scares me enough to talk to the doctors and to see Miles tied up to so many tubes, even though we are reassured, he is doing just fine.
Yesterday, like every other, had its highs and lows. The highs. Miles achieved a feeding. Through a tube but still, he processed it, all the way through to a poop. I also was able to hold him for the first time in what is called a "kangaroo" hold or skin to skin. After getting over the fear, I would break him, I was able to enjoy him and finally run my fingers through his blonde locks. And best of all, he was content, more so than under the lights of his incubator. I wonder if he regrets fighting to get out so much now! Takes after his mom!
The lows...the doctor came by when unfortunately Dave wasn't there and in between the successes told me that the head ultrasound showed blood on his little brain. Not uncommon but not good. Most likely it is a broken blood vessel from the trauma of being born and it will decrease. Just more to worry about. Sometimes I think the less I know, the better.

Today, four days after the C-section, I am finally able to go home with mixed feelings. As it is, I can walk (very slowly) the short distance from the post partum rooms to the NICU so early morning and late night visits to deliver breast milk are routine. Once I am home, it will be a drive and until I am recovered, I am dependent on Dave to come and go. Again, they let me hold him but only for 10-15 minutes and it made my day, although just watching him coo and kick his legs makes my heart melt.

Miles continues to hold steady though his weight has dropped to just under 3 lbs....all normal and his bilirubin levels (translation jaundice) still require him to be under the bright light. He is eating. The nurse showed us how to take his temperature and when we are ready to change his poopy diapers. Both Dave and I were disconcerted watching her manhandle him, almost too roughly, though she promised us he is not so very fragile. Still....

We are home now and getting used to the new commute. The baby room is being painted and Baker wanders around, clearly knowing his position in the family has changed.