I spent alot of time that day just holding Amelia. One of the first things I noticed were her finger nails. I was immediately jealous of them. I have these stubby square nails and have always wanted long and slender nails. Well, my daughter has them, and I was already envisioning getting manicures together 18 years down the road. I also noticed how her little chin was kind of in-set on her face, and how there was a spot at the bottom of her neck that retracted every time she took a breath. "That's different," I thought, but didn't point it out to anyone else and didn't think much of it. I remember holding her, looking at Chris, and saying "I'm just so thankful she is healthy."
The plan was for Amelia to be discharged the following day, so we decided to stay the night with her at the hospital. Feeding continued to be a challenge for her that day and night. She never drank more than an ounce at a time and was hungry often. When she drank from the bottle, there were times where she looked overwhelmed, as if she was being flooded with more formula than she was ready for. We switched bottle nipples from Stage 1 to Newborn. That seemed to help a little except that her head and neck would bob back and forth like Bert doing the Pigeon Dance and her suck just didn't seem right to me. A nurse never watched her take a bottle, and although I was slightly concerned, all of her challenges were labeled as "a baby learning how to eat."
This is where if I were the director of a movie of my own life, I would zoom out to show that Chris, Amelia, and I were three oblivious passengers in a boat headed for some rocky rapids dead ahead.
More to come,
For those of you who have never seen Bert do the Pigeon Dance...