Lap Babies

Day of Life: 43

Today, Tera is six weeks old and eight weeks away from her due date. If you're wondering what a 32-weeker is doing in utero, I can only guess that it's what Tera is doing now. I'm not usually what people would call an "avid" reader, especially when it comes to reading for academic purposes. During my pregnancy with Tera, I couldn't read enough mindless romance novels. I made it through about half a dozen Nicholas Sparks books in the first three or four months. Those followed Round 2 of the Twilight series last summer. Now while in the hospital, I have read "The Life and Death of Charlie St. Cloud" (romance-ish) and "Half Baked," a book written by a preemie mother about her experience with her daughter born 15 weeks early. Her child went through a much more difficult time than mine (which is probably why she was able to get a book published about it). In her writing, she shares so much knowledge about when babies develop many of their physical characteristics, sharing even the smallest details, like when a baby's nipples appear. From the looks of Tera, they're somewhere in the process now. This is all to say that "Half Baked" is the most research on prematurity or childhood development that I've done . . . ever. Unless, of course, you consider questioning nurses and doctors as research, in which case I research daily. There are days when I consider it, but if there's one thing I've learned about preemie babies it's that no two are alike. I'm afraid that research - like "Half Baked" - might be worst-case scenario kind of material. So instead, I take pictures and enjoy what I have.

Lydia went with me to the hospital this morning. We arrived just in time for Tera's 11:30 feeding. The nurse suggested that I hold Tera while she was swaddled. Flashbacks from the last time I held Tera wrapped in a blanket flooded my mind. It was right before she got sick a little more than a week ago. Tera didn't like it, and I didn't like how her monitors responded. I explained all of this to the nurse, but she assured me that Tera was bigger and better now. Plus, she needs experience being swaddled. She'll be in a crib pretty soon and will have to lay on her back wrapped like a burrito from then on.

Speaking of going into a crib, Tera is now on only 23% oxygen in her isolette. If you recall, room air is 21% oxygen, so she's getting very close to that point when she will be able to breathe completely on her own and, thus, be able to lie in an open crib. Of course, it might take two weeks for her to get there, or I could walk into the hospital tomorrow morning to find her in a new bed. As I said before, you never know with a preemie. She has already met the other criteria for being in a crib, the only one of which I know is her weight. Babies must be 1600 grams to get out of their isolettes, and Tera is now at 1700, or 3 pounds 12 ounces. Keep praying that infection, disease, and all other things germ-ridden stay far from my daughter. These things cause sickness, which causes weakness, which causes increased oxygen, which causes prolonged time in a glass bed. Besides, nobody likes a sick baby.

When I complied with the nurse's suggestion that we begin acclimating Tera to swaddling, we made the preparations. The nurse got her all bundled up . . . (She says that if she ever loses her job at UAB, she'll go to work for Moe's because she is sure that she can successfully roll their monstrous burritos without losing any of the fixings!)

. . . while I adjusted my chair and got ready for the hand-off.

I know this picture is fuzzy, but I love that we're both looking at each other.

While I will continue to do skin-to-skin holds as often as possible because of the obvious benefits they provide to both of us, I have to admit that holding Tera this way was different in a very good way.

I liked it most because I could really see her face. She made some very interesting expressions, most of which neither Lydia nor I could catch on film, but here are our best attempts. This one is by far our favorite.

I sure hope she's going to grow into that nose soon.

She gave me some very serious faces . . .

. . . and yawned several times during our one and a half hour hold.

And then there is our sweet little Elf.

There were several times that her eyes crossed in their efforts to focus on the things around them. I finally took a video to see if I could catch her doing it. Watch closely, and you will see them slowly come together.

She stayed awake for a very long time, almost an hour I think, before finally giving in to her heavy eyelids.

If you've read my earlier entries, you know that anything that makes this experience seem like a typical "mother and her newborn" encounter is a good thing to me. Holding Tera all bundled up felt like that today. We could have been anywhere - at home, or at Alicia's house while she held Kinley the same way. By the way, Kinley was born last Monday, and Alicia and I are already making plans to take the girls to Mellow Mushroom this summer. We took Canon there just before Ava was born two years ago and then again last summer, when they were much harder to handle. Kinley and Tera will hopefully get their first scent of that fabulous pizza in the months to come.

My point, of course, is not about pizza but about recognizing those typically unappreciated moments in life when things are neither overwhelmingly good nor devastatingly bad. They are just moments in life that need to be noticed.

I had another such moment on this very same day when Lydia and I picked Canon up from school early to go see a movie. We went to see Hop, the cartoon movie about the Easter Bunny. I won't go into any more detail just in case you want to see it. Anyway, back to my moment. Canon climbed into my lap once we were seated, and I thought how amazing it is to have held both of my children in my lap in the same day. I know this has happened many times in the last couple of weeks, especially since my Kangaroo holds with Tera have become daily events, but today just felt more typical. I know it's strange to consider typical things as being so special, but these days they are.

Canon's lap time didn't last nearly as long as Tera's. Soon, he was sitting on the floor next to me, viewing the movie from behind the crack between the two seats in front of him and eating a medium-sized bag of popcorn almost completely on his own. (Ok, I helped a lot and Lydia helped a little).

I know this looks really gross - sitting on the floor of a movie theater - but I made sure he didn't eat any popcorn off the floor, and I know he has plopped down on much worse surfaces than this.

Back at Lydia's, we did our normal Night Time routines, including dinner, bath, calling Barry, and finally bedtime.

What About Barry

Barry is exhausted, like his wife. I got a text from him at 8:00 tonight that said "Call when you can. Going to bed early." Lucky dog! When I sent him a picture of me holding Tera, I asked if he might be interested in holding her this way, knowing that she was all bundled up with less exposure to germs. He said that he would when she gets to be 5 pounds. I'm still not sure that he'll let anyone else hold her until after we are back home, but I would really love to see him try it if only for a few minutes.