Empty Nest

There are certain things that separate a good husband from a bad husband. A good husband knows that there are certain fights that can’t be won with his wife, particularly a new mother. When she’s pregnant, you can’t deny her her food cravings. When she’s pregnant, she controls the thermostat. When the baby is getting ready to come home, she is in charge on the cleaning. My job is to clean what she says, when she says, how she says. It’s nesting and it goes double when the baby has lung problems. We actually spent a full day cleaning house and we are not yet done. We didn’t even get to the hospital yesterday. However, we did sleep late which is also nice. The doctor did confirm that she expects to send him home on Wednesday, not Tuesday. That means an extra day of cleaning. I promise that by Thursday morning my son will have the cleanest clothes to poop in out of any baby on the block.

He is getting to be really good at eating. Apparently, the whole eating concept has clicked on in his brain. He gets hungry. He cries. Someone sticks a bottle in his mouth. He sucks on it. He’s not hungry. The doctors say the minimum is once every 3 hours. This morning he made the nurse do it after two and a half. The doctors say he must average 1.5 ounces. His last bottle he took double that. If he does the minimum, he gets 368 ml per day. Over the last day, he has gotten over 600 ml. However, he is only 5 pounds 5 ounces. That gives an idea of what’s going on in the diapers. On top of that as I mentioned earlier, he doesn’t like to poop unless he’s nekkid. That kid has soiled 4 diapers with 5 movements during one changing on Friday. I honestly think I saw him smile about halfway through. Considering where we started, its got to be pretty bad when the mama Ali and I are trying to get each other to handle the next changing.

I want to send a special thanks to the nurses, doctors, and staff at the children’s hospital. I am an accountant. I spend all day in front of a computer looking a various different reports. I call people to pay bills and collect invoices. The staff at the hospital save lives. When the hospital calls customers, the phone calls matter. Sometimes they call with good news. Sometimes they don’t (see Baby 217 in August). I haven’t always agreed with the style of some of the nurses, but I have never doubted their competence. My son is alive today because for every second of every day since early July, they have had sophisticated computers monitoring his vitals. His nurses have checked on him almost hourly, and doctors have seen him daily. If these people weren’t the best at what they did, I wouldn’t be writing this right now. I couldn’t possibly repay the staff at the hospital for all of their kindness. I couldn’t possibly repay the staff for all of their hard work. I couldn’t possibly repay them for all of the time and money they have spent saving my son’s life. Please understand what I’m saying. I couldn’t possibly repay you people, so please contact the billing department and let them know!