Free at Last!

Wow what a week! Anyway, we fought the doctor a bit about rooming in again, but they had something we wanted, so they won. The hospital policy is a room in is 8 consecutive hours. My in laws did during the day Tuesday. My mom was out of town, so I went with my dad during the day Wednesday, and the mama Ali joined me Wednesday night. I don’t know how the boy knew the difference but he couldn't have been easier for either of his grandparents. Few alarms and slept the whole time. Jordan somehow had a different plan for his parents and has been following it pretty steadily. He eats every 3 hours until his pediatrician says different. He usually takes about 30 minutes to feed. Then he naps for 60 to 90 minutes. Then he needs some attention for an hour. It took us two days to figure out that he’s afraid of the dark. He spent 4 months without it ever being dark and he learned to sleep in that environment. Now we just sleep with the light on. We tried it with darkness and got no sleep.
Anyway, he was supposed to have an eye exam Thursday and then be discharged. The eye doctor was able to come Wednesday. I won’t be watching an eye exam again. They have to get a real good view of the eye and that means they have a special clamp to hold the lid open. It hurt him bad, but it hurt me worse. After his exam he fell asleep and my dad had to console me. The good news is that he improved to stage 1 ROP and it is unlikely they will ever have to intervene. We roomed in that night and everything went OK except that he was up more than we wanted because of the darkness. Also, that stupid alarm started to go off. That alarm is worse than having him on oxygen sometimes. Every night we get woken up from a sound sleep by a false alarm. I know we have it for a reason, and one time it actually told us something accurate, but golly that thing is a chore.
When we finally got discharged we all handled it differently. Jordan slept. The mama Ali was scared the entire ride home. I cried. Not earth shattering joy or anything. I would have to say more like a weight off of my shoulders. I don’t have to worry about who the nurse taking care of him is. I don’t have to ask permission to hold my son. I don’t have to ask someone else what kind of day he’s having. I don’t have to ask anyone anything anymore. My wife and I call all the shots. We decide when to feed him, hold him, change him, play with him. It’s kind of neat.
As I write this, I’m am looking at him. He wants to eat, but I’m waiting until it’s actually feeding time. He is going to town on a pacifier while he sleeps. I have to give a special thanks to my son, Jordan. When my wife was admitted to the hospital 4 cm dilated at the end of her 2nd trimester, I asked why us. Now I know the reason he was so early is because he had so much to teach us. I used to be afraid on snakes. I don’t like them, and still respect them, but now I know what fear is. I used to be proud to be American, or of my college or a whole bunch of other crap. Never have I felt more pride than I do right now. He taught me to never take anything for granted. In 15 years, I won’t agree with everything he says and does, but I won’t forget how close I came to him not being able to do or say anything. I was asked once why the nicknames on this blog have the word Ali in them. I needed Jordan to be the best fighter in the world. I needed him to think he is the best fighter in the world. I need him not to end up in jail in 10 years. Of course, I have never seen anyone fight the fight he has just won. He has spent over 4 months in the NICU. He has never been diagnosed with an infection. He has never had a surgery - except for that one at the end. He has come home on the lowest possible flow of oxygen without turning it off. Everything we have ever asked of him he has done. Bottles, cannula, medicines, formula, eye exams, I.V.s, everything. Jordan, from the bottom of our hearts, your mother and I want to thank you for teaching, and thank you for fighting.
P.S. - I misplaced the USB cable, but pictures are coming soon!