bubbles in the bathtub

Last night at 10 PM was Clare's first bath.  I guess this is a monumental event, because we were supposed to bring our camera and such.  My first bath picture has me buck-naked in full stride on the floor of my grandparents Jamieson's bathtub, my Grandpa's huge hairy carpenter arms holding me by the armpits.  We opted out of the camera experience, thinking that it might be more informative to pay attention, and it was.  We had to find out that we have to hold her by the neck with the non-dominant hand and wash her with the dominant one with shampoo, albeit not much and in tepid water.  

This is usually a difficult task, not well-loved by newborns, but Clare LOVED IT!  She had the best time, smiling and wiggling while the nurse did 90% of the work.  

Unfortunately, it got her all worked up.  She stayed awake for quite a while, and slept very restlessly, and because of that, we did too.  Additionally, we had feeding sessions that took a long time and usually ended with her not eating much.  On top of that were the phone call reports and visits from the nurse.  On the whole, I think that I slept about 3 1/2 hours total, and Amanda didn't sleep pretty much at all.  

We were frightened.  Not of the whole lack of sleep new parenting thing (c'mon, that's a given--you don't think we knew that was going to happen?), but of the low amounts of milk that Clare drank during the night.  She barely stayed above the minimum necessary for her to maintain her body weight, according to a formula that the nurse shared with me over the phone at 5:10 AM in a fifteen minute detailed conversation involving mathematical formulas that she expected me to explain to Amanda (good thing I wrote them down with a Sharpie pen on paper on a white countertop--oops!).  

In the morning we raised a little hell, with perhaps one of the best nurses we've had at this hospital.  We told her flat out, "what if she doesn't eat enough and she ends up back here with a feeding tube in her nose?!" and the nurse first replied that "if that happens, it happens" to which we freaked (of course).  I think I said "so I can look forward to sitting in the ER at 3 in the morning with a low temperature baby waiting to have a tube put in her nose when we already knew she wasn't eating enough?", to which our nurse replied that this wouldn't happen; if we go through this exercise and she isn't eating enough, she'll stay and get a tube, we'll go home and try in again in a couple of days.  Phew.  That felt better.

Our nurse went the extra mile though and explained how this was beneficial for us, plus that hospitals are becoming cesspools of difficult-to-treat infections, and the sooner we can get her out of here, the better.  The best part was not that she told us this; she could have given us a long and quick clinical explanation, and she didn't.  She sat and talked to us.  She asked us questions, and listened to our responses.  It is interesting that some of the skills that make the difference between a good teacher/administrator and one who really can reach out to students are the same skills that make a great nurse.  

Then, for some reason, Clare turned a corner on the feeding at 9:10 AM. She ate 38 mls then, rather quickly.  Then, two hours later, 48 mls.  Four hours later, 50 mls.  Three hours later, 52 mls.  Because of her above-average feedings and her stellar performance in the car seat (in which she slept for three hours and gave us some much-needed rest), she's pretty much sure to be released to go home tomorrow.