First impressions

Imogen came home on Wednesday, but missed the maternity ward so much that she went back an hour later for another night. Daddy was a little hot under the collar after a small bungle and after that the nurses decided that whenever he appeared in a corridor that they all had urgent business somewhere else, or that they were being invaded by Attila the Hun. But all's well that ends well and on her second triumphant trip home she decided to stay.

We showed her the amenities and she seemed suitably impressed. She asked about an en suite, but after we pointed out that her bathroom facilities were actually strapped to her backside she seemed content and had a little sleep. Then she had a little feed and a little sleep and a little feed and a little sleep and.....

One thing I have noticed is the lack of people coming for a visit. Everybody we know has told us that we would be a little overwhelmed at first and that they would come at a more convenient time. If the definition of overwhelmed is feeding for twenty minutes every four hours, nursing a baby that cries for about five minutes a day, and changing a nappy or ten, then when Imogen "settles down" Mrs A. and I will likely fall into a coma. Come one come all and meet this little miracle of flesh and goop.

When we chat she opens her oh so blue eyes and attempts to focus on us, but the effort is amusingly difficult. She likes having her feet kissed by Mum, and sits contentedly in the palm of Dads hand while he reads her Banjo Patterson, Henry Lawson. Roald Dahl and A.A Milne. Her little fingers struggle to enclose one of ours and when she is wrapped up tight in her wraps she looks a little like a pez dispenser.

Grandma on Mrs A's side picked up a muslin wrap the other day and asked me who had bought her such a lovely "Muslim wrap". I never knew how many Burkha jokes I had in me.

She's sleeping now, in the same bassinet that Mrs A. was in when she was a pez dispenser herself. I reach in and put my hand on her head, stroking her little blonde locks. She hardly stirs except to yawn prodigiously and drift off back in to her tiny slumber.

I am so in love.

Comments

[Rowdy Theologian]

That's funny, T and I spent two nights in the hospital after delivering the Acolyte. They spent one night at home, then we had to turn around for another night in the hospital...only that second visit, before getting a bed, required a 6 hour wait on a hard chair. The staff were generous enough to give us a private waiting room so the 3-day old didn't have to share the waiting room with really sick folks, but still, having to watch T sit upright for so long, so shortly after delivering had me in a steam too. But all ended well the following day.
Wish we could swing by for a second, but for the time being a care package will have to suffice...keep an eye on the post.

[JtH]

Wow, that's harsh. You would think that a new mum would have a proper bed.

Before we left the hospital we asked the doctor to take a look at Midge as she was looking ill, not feeding and sleeping more than was considered normal. They told us we were just fussing and sent us home as they wanted the bed. I pushed, and they did some tests, but still told us to go home as they knew the results would be negative. Within 10 minutes of walking in the door we were called back for treatment, which was bad enough, but then were told we would have to pay for Mrs A. to stay as we had chosen to leave early and then come back. I'm a reasonably placid guy, but I gave off a salvo reminiscent of the battle of Midway. But my girls are home now and that is a better feeling than I can describe.

I'll keep an eye on the mail!