So I was SO jonesing to get out of here this a.m. I told Ashby like, at least 3 times, what time to show up [he spent the night at home with the 3yo last night] so he would not delay our departure!
He gets here and takes a load of stuff to the car. And we’re waiting, waiting, waiting on the pediatrician. Who finally shows up and says we’re not going anywhere.
Harper [I will spare you the "2-day-old" or in our Fixin' Supper nomenclature, the 2do, abbreviations] has jaundice, which I had kind of noticed late yesterday in the back of my head, but wasn’t really paying a lot of attention to. Seeing as how we have doctors to pay attention to that sort of thing for us.
And I get the idea that he doesn’t think it’s a HUGE deal, but especially because she’s a bit early [born just shy of 37 weeks], it’s perhaps not just a breastfeeding issue [slight jaundice is practically de rigeur for the bf set and no cause for worry], but instead, an immature liver issue. So, right now we are hoping that 24 hours or so under the bright lights [and on top of this cool electric blue light blanket] will take care of things. We’ll know more in the morning — she’ll have another blood draw at 5a on Wednesday. If that looks good, they’ll take her out of the lights for observation [and, I'm sure, another blood draw :( ] to make sure her bilirubin level doesn’t spike back up. If all goes well we can go home tomorrow night, it looks like.
I will say, I am not an emotional person [not even while pregnant! -- though apparently I am bossier while pg], but it takes someone more stoic than I to see her newborn baby with patches over her eyes, half-naked and lying uncomfortably on her back, alone in a plastic case and not shed a tear. It’s the alone part that bothers me so. I am massively grateful for the health of all of my children, and all present indications say this is nothing more than a speed bump for Harper — but newborn babies are made for cuddling 24/7 in my book [actually, if you want "my book" on parenting, you'll be reading Katie Allison Granju's Attachment Parenting and every word that the Sears have written], and her holding my finger through a hole in a plastic wall don’t cut it.
Send us your good thoughts and wishes for going home tomorrow!