And there was evening...
(and late evening...)
and there was morning...
The sixth* day. And this really is the view from our NICU window.
The view on the inside isn't bad either, most days.
Yes, he is still a bit yellowish, and he is in for a bili draw in the morning, along with the CBC. The results of these should tell us when we might be able to spring him from his very plush accommodations and back to our humble abode.
I have thought, when I had the time and the inclination to think about such things, which is to say fleetingly, that I seem to be doing a little too well. My physical recovery has been the easiest of the three labors. And if emotionally I have been walking in circles on top of a rather large powder keg, I have also been able to mostly ignore the stuff under my feet. So you know I was due for a meltdown.
It came last night, prompted by a crazy-making encounter with a nurse who is likely very good, but was just all wrong for me. I came apart in a quiet way where I just couldn't stop the tears for a few hours while madly typing in chat windows. My heartfelt thanks to two people who helped talk me down. You know who you are.
Things were much calmer and much better today, aided as they were by our very own hit parade of most excellent nurses (night, day, and now night shift again). I am OK, though more keenly aware that there are things to deal with, to exhale, to confront. Just not now. Later.
*I cheated-- the pictures are from different days. Sue me.