Oh, by the way, we’re moving too. So while our daughters struggle to learn how to breathe on their own in separate hospitals, we’re trying to pack the house.
Luckily, we have a lot of help from our moms and the rest of Shannon’s family. Throwing stuff in boxes or trash bags, quick drives over to the new place, visits to each hospital, it’s just insane. (And here I am at 1:38 a.m., dying for sleep, still needing a shower but still somehow stupidly blogging.)
SIDEBAR: One of the NICUs makes us do an entire process before seeing Norah (who is lagging behind Alexandra in her progress, but still getting better incrementally). You roll up your sleeves past your elbows, rinse with soap and wash up to those elbows, dry off, then rub sanitizer from fingertips to elbows. And we can’t even touch Norah anyway. END SIDEBAR.
Great things today, though. At our evening visit to Norah (we see each of them twice a day), she had her eyes open slightly for us. And when I took my father-in-law back to see her, she moved her little left hand as if to wave at us – despite being on a medication to mostly paralyze her (so she doesn’t fight the ventilator).
And Alexandra was fussin’ and fightin’ when we went to see her. Not crying, but just moving and flailing away with her teeny arms. I swear, at one point it looked like she was trying to both pull the ventilator out of her mouth and push down on a separate syringe full of medication. (She may be the feisty one.)
I’m sweaty, stinky and more exhausted than ever. Welcome to Fatherhood, dog!
Hoping for another day of good, stable reports tomorrow.