Yes, I've been posting alot of videos... but I've be so tired that the thought of putting words together one letter at a time and not misspelling anything or really screwing up my syntax as I often do thanks to the prevalence of the lolcat idiosyncratic grammar used in my house. I just couldn't imagine not writing "I can has baby" if I were let loose on a keyboard.
Today comes with good news, news that will make certain that there will be tired postings for months, if not years at random times like 3 am and 4 pm. Tired is a lifestyle at this point. As much as you have frugitarians or vegans, this is a lifestyle, and one that I have chosen, one that I choose still. But my news is not about that. My news is that Jack (from the John in John Paul, Andy) is coming home tomorrow... most likely. He has made some drastic progress in the last 24 hours and instead of possibly being in the intermediate care nursery for another week, we get our baby.
No more sitting at home and waiting to go back to see him. He is going to be here. We are going to get to know him... because so far he has been like a puppy at a pet store. Behind glass, but you can play with him on occasion. I've fed him 1 bottle. I've changed 1 diaper. I've never yet dressed him.
I did sing him to sleep today.
I can't wait to bring him home. People tell me how lucky I am to get the sleep I'm getting, but my family isn't together. And it really should be. This is not what I thought it would be like. I pictured it in my mind, me wheeling Jenn out to the car, baby in her arms. We fumbled with the car seat, because it took me an hour to get the thing installed right and I expect it will take a few minutes to get the kid strapped in right.
It didn't happen like that. Too many things went wrong along the way. My cage got rattled. I've spent I don't know how many days choking back both tears of joy and tears of pain. I want to be her rock. I want to be her hero. But it's tough to be stoic when you are watching someone intubate your child before they are five minutes old. You haven't been on the job long enough to really even clock in and you already feel like you've failed. It's been a tough week. The tears aren't able to be stifled right now. I hope that this is all over and Jack can come home tomorrow. I want to change his diapers, feed him a 4 am bottle and I want to hold him and sing him back to sleep.
I want to chase away the nightmares.
I want to start with the last 72 hours.
God, help me.
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