Joshua's New Digs

So, after an all too brief stay in utero, a few weeks at the LDS Hospital NICU, a helicopter trip to IMC, a few weeks in the Tree Suite at IMC, and a night in the Sunshine Suite at IMC, Josh has his own swingin' bachelor pad. His hot new place even has a mini bar (see photo), where a nurse prepares his special "cocktail" of breastmilk and fortifier. He likes it shaken, not stirred.







His room is decorated by "afatooties" (ah-fa-TOO-teez), which are cute little people drawn by my new pal. This crazy-smart three year old whips out a marker and creates an afatootie for Josh every morning when I'm headed for the hospital. The one on green paper is a scary afatootie, the one on brown paper says "Come home soon, Josh" on the bottom, and the red afatootie on white paper is a five second afatootie. She drew that last one while glancing over her shoulder to make sure I hadn't left yet.


Said little girl is helping me clean up my foul language. Every time I let one of those naughty words slip, she's all over it. The biggest offender is the word stupid. I had no idea just how much I use that word. Now, I can't even think it without having to make sure she isn't around.








On November 28th, Josh will be seven weeks old and will have been away from home for almost 13 weeks. The boy weighs 5 1/2 pounds now, which is what Heidi weighed when she was born. He has almost doubled his birthweight already. He is getting his feedings orally every time he eats. He still has the NG tube in his nose, but he's getting his feedings from a bottle or a breast. If he doesn't have another desat between now and December 2nd, he should be able to come home next week.

Between feedings, which are every three hours, I spend thirty minutes to an hour in the parent lounge-- which is where I sit as I type this post. There is a wall of cadet blue lockers for parents (mine's #27), two green flecked couches, a big flat screen HDTV, a desk with a computer (that is supposed to be for parents to get online, but it's not set up for that yet), a bunch of chairs, a coat rack, bulletin boards and a phone. The back of the room is a kitchenette with a fridge, microwave, sink, toaster, and a big ice/water machine. They have utensils and napkins for parents who bring food. It's kind of a nice little set up. Right now, the room is festooned with evergreen boughs and twinkling Christmas lights. There's a silly little Christmas tree that slowly rotates while the fiber optic lights among the needles change colors on the end table beside me.

The parent lounge is rarely a quiet place, as moms and dads are constantly accessing lockers, taking a lunch break, or making phone calls. It is due to this traffic that I've begun to make friends with other NICU moms. Not a wise idea, I'm discovering, since we will all eventually go our separate ways. I've already seen a few new friends off when their babies were discharged. There are four moms imparticular that I really like. One of them is a really cute brunette who is here with her second little boy. She reminds me of someone famous, but I'm not totally sure who. She has some Calista Flockhart attributes, but I don't think that's who I'm thinking of. She's sweet and quiet, and is always smiling. Another mom is a remarried widow with a little baby girl. She's younger than I am, and her husband died of cancer. Yikes. Anyway, her eyes are the clearest light green. I'd call them pale pistachio green, but that doesn't begin to describe how gloriously translucent they are. Just amazing. Her little girl has had to take a trip to Primary Children's Hospital for heart surgery already, and is now back here at IMC. Yet another fun mom, who has been here for quite a while, had a run in with the horrible nurse I mentioned in the last post. Her son has a surgical catheter sutured into his little body. This nurse didn't loop it the way she should have, and the catheter was pulled out of him. I knew it wasn't just a personal thing-- the woman doesn't know what she's doing. The mom of this little boy has a great sense of humor, pale short blonde curls (like someone from the 20's), and is well liked around here. The mom that has had the biggest impact on me is currently my NICU neighbor. Her little girl has been here for over three months now. She was due on Halloween and already weighs seven pounds. She's had to go through heart surgery, and is suffering from some major reflux that causes her to have periods of apnea. She's hoping to finally go home this week or the next. I was really hesitant to talk to her at first. Actually, I was hesitant to talk to everyone in the beginning. I hate making friends with people when I know that it will only be a temporary relationship. Not only that, but I used to cry everytime I opened my mouth. Now that I'm seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, tears aren't quite as quick to show up and I've started getting to know other parents. Anyway, this last mom I was writing about is startlingly pretty. She looks very young, which she probably gets sick of hearing, and has gorgeous thick curly dark hair. Her skin is very fair and rosy, and she has the longest eyelashes I've ever seen. She's really slender too-- no one would ever guess she's a new mom. Her voice is sweet and small, and she's very good spirited about everything she's been through. She makes me laugh. I hope she is able to go home soon-- even though it will be sad to see her go.

Thanksgiving was almost a total wash. I'd bought everything I needed for a simple, traditional Thanksgiving dinner, and was planning on spending the day with Owen & Maki. We made plans back when I was on bedrest at LDS Hospital. Well, two days before Thanksgiving I found out that they both had to work on the holiday and were going to go to Chuck-A-Rama that evening when they finally got home. I cried. I still do a lot of crying, but not nearly as much as I used to. The friend that is so graciously letting me squat in her basement invited me to have dinner with her family-- which I immediately declined. She's been so wonderful already, and I didn't want to be in the way or wear out my welcome. She insisted though, so I came back from the hospital early enough to have dinner with them. It turned out to be close and cozy, and her family is wonderful. Her parents are warm people who were concerned about Josh, and made me feel very welcome. She even let me help with some last minute stuff. I made sour cream quinnelles(sp) for butternut squash soup, which I topped with lovely homemade croutons and plated. That was the opening to a fabulous meal-- roasted turkey that had been brined prior to cooking, mashed potatoes, giblet stuffing from scratch, tangy rose-colored cranberry sauce and fresh green beans tossed with a little crisp bacon Her sister-in-law brought pie for dessert. I have to cook my dinky twelve pound bird now, before it goes bad.





It's been such an unexpected blessing to get to know this woman while I'm staying with her. We've done a little cooking together, most recently a killer chocolate cream pie with Scharffen Berger chocolate and real whipped cream. I made coq au vin and poires helene for them last week, which turned out pretty darn good. It was my first attempt at coq au vin, and will definitely be a regular in my kitchen from now on. Tomorrow, I'm making braised short ribs of beef, creamy polenta, and carmelized root vegetables. Not sure on dessert yet. Even outside of her glory in the kitchen, I am impressed with her. She has a tremendous sense of style, from her beautiful home to her elegant mannerisms. I'm sure she'll laugh at this, but she does really cool things with her hands when she talks. Her voice is lovely-- not nasally at all (like my unfortunate voice), deep and full. She's been all over the world, and swears in Italian. She is so amazing with her kids too. The way she deals with her daughter is really fascinating. She treats her three year old with a level of respect that most people don't. Her daughter has major confidence and isn't afraid to explore her talents or try new things. I'm totally impressed. She and her husband have this great relationship. They remind me of kids on a playground most of the time. He has some very youthful touches about him. He grins and giggles when something funny happens, his hair sticks straight up in the morning, and he's always cracking jokes. When the two of them interact, it can be hilarious! They are sarcastic with eachother, use rock-paper-scissors to decide who has to do unpleasant tasks, and have all sorts of inside jokes. They use a lot of movie references, and hysterical words like horselers (horseling, to horsel...) and hornswaggle. They do this well choreographed dance in the kitchen every night, where he mutes her TV show, then she'll unmute it a few minutes later. Not long after, he'll realize it's still on, get irritated with the content (he dislikes celebrity gossip intensely) and mute it again. Within a short time, she'll notice that the TV has been muted again, and she'll turn the volume back on. It goes on for quite a while most nights. They're very cute. It's been so much fun to have coffee in her kitchen every morning, and I will miss the female companionship terribly when I get home.

It's snowing heavily outside, and my car will undoubtedly be covered in snow when I leave tonight. I am not ready for winter yet. I spent most of autumn in a hospital bed, and have been dreading the coming of snow since my discharge. If it could just wait until Josh and I are safely in Tennessee and Ron has made it home with the van, I would be so grateful.