Its Friday night and we are 12 hours into the whole second born child thing in our house, which means we still have 12 hours to decide if we're going to keep him if I read the return policy correctly. Things are going very smooth, but you just know once that 25th hour hits, things will start to go all kinds of wonky. And good luck trying to buy an extended warranty...
So we made the trek down the same road we drove daily for almost 4 weeks and for a better part of 6 months a few years ago and I won't say I got nostalgic, but its so weird to basically drop a place and a set of people that have been such a significant part of your lives cold turkey. I paid attention to the road we always drive down, which is very straight and filled with a mix of low income apartments and fairly large mansions that were probably the place to live back in the 40s and 50s, at the parking lot that I always preferred to park in, because sometimes if you left it after midnight (which I did often), the gate was sometimes up and you didn't have to pay to get out. When we walked into the building to go up to the NICU, I looked down the hallway to see if the popcorn vendor was there creating the irresistible smell that I rarely passed up (sadly they weren't). On the elevator, I took in the strong smell of antiseptic or some such, a distinct smell that probably reminds anyone of a hospital, although I think each hospital has its own scent. When we got off the elevator, one of the NICU nurses who'd been with us both times was right there, happy to see us. That's the weirdest part and I remember how weird it was the last time. These people who are there taking care of your child and sharing your first experiences, fears and joys are kind of just go by the wayside. You barely get to say proper goodbyes and thank yous to all of these people (that's if they happen to be on the shift your leaving in). In some ways its probably a little better for them, maybe? Those babies and the families that surround them just keep coming and they probably don't need to get hung up on a bunch of farewells. Its just weird though.
When we got Thomas, it was a fairly long ordeal. We had to spend the night in the hospital to prove we knew which end the food went in and that we were completely self sufficient (even though we were a button and 10 steps away from a team of trained professionals), and then had to wait hours to get discharged. As with the rest of his life, William was gypped or spared all of the pomp and circumstance. We were there for about 30 minutes, I signed 3 pieces of paper and we were escorted to our car. Wam bam thank you ma'am.
So now we're at home trying to figure out which cry means what and make sure he's comfortable and relatively happy. I think we're only semi successful, but we're getting there. I'm sure it'll be a long night.
Not to be outdone. Thomas issued two super cute statements. The first thing he said when he woke up this morning was "Go get William from the Hospital." , a good sign. When we all got in the car and Thomas was sitting next to William for the first time, he asked "William, do you talk?" followed by "I want William to talk to me."
Here are some pics from the day. More tomorrow when we're really on our own.