O is for the Only One I See.

I am home. I was discharged today, sent off to wend my way through new motherhood with only my native wits, 30 Percoset, and a rented breastpump (the Medela “Howling Vortex,” in case you were wondering). I had a bit of a breakdown as Scott wheeled me away from the NICU. It feels unspeakably wrong to leave your baby and go home, wrong-er even than it feels to be standing next to her as she becomes agitated and yet not reach in through a porthole to scoop her up.
Simone is doing very well. So well, in fact, that the echo to get a closer look at her large PDA was canceled today because they don’t want to disturb her obvious equilibrium. She is still on a ventilator but merely requiring room air. I am pretty sure I read somewhere that this means she is a genius and also will appreciate fine puns and the wonders of punctuation.
As you probably guessed, the frisson of Internet access we had near the window of my room disappeared after my last post, and if I hadn’t had Schnozz’s number with me you would all still be wondering where I had gotten to, and whether I had remained pregnant long enough to calculate the number of perforations in my ceiling via mathematical formulae.* Not providing Internet access to women on bedrest is a Sin, and I am drafting a letter to the hospital administration.
Happily, now that I am home I can post whenever it pleases me, and so I thought I might share a few pictures, taken back when Simone was a youthful two days old…

The thing that was kicking me, the nurses, and the monitoring disk:
Leg

In her sophisticated sleep mask:
Mask

The lady reclines:
Reclining

And here is my favorite. The one thing sure to calm my baby, besides the Ativan they sometimes give her, is when I cup her furry head in one hand and her legs and bottom in the other, like so:
Cupped

Back tomorrow.


*5,733. Yes, really.