Friday, June 6--Day 11

Today was uneventful, and for that we're grateful. Tim got some shots of Clare with her eyes open. She doesn't open them often, just usually when we're changing her. When she does wake up, she's demonstrating some strong rooting behaviors, so that's good.

I kangaroo-ed her twice today. I'm assuming she's pretending like she's back in the womb when I hold her, because she scrunches herself into that tight little ball called the fetal position and fusses when anyone disturbs her. Overall, she is calmer this week than last--less fussing, better at self-soothing.

I had my first dream about her during a nap this afternoon. I dreamt I was taking her to the grocery store but didn't have a carrier for her. Up till now, I've been dreaming that I'm still pregnant, or that I'm not but should be, and there's just an overall feeling of anxiety and alienation cast over everything. Tim and I are both sleeping deeply, but not particularly restfully.

She's 4 lbs, 6 oz. today!

It's getting frustrating to not be able to do more. Clare won't go back on feeds until next Wednesday, which buys her more time to heal her little intestines. But this also means her care is every four hours rather than every three, so we have less to do. We can't stand to be away from her, but sitting around looking at her in her isolette can get nerve-wracking. And I think to myself, this is only day 11 and we have a long time to go; has the month of June ever been so long? I try to console myself that as soon as she's getting feeds again and can regulate her body temperature, she'll graduate out of the isolette and into a cradle. Next Wednesday she will be 34 weeks' gestation, so her sucking/breathing/swallowing reflex will be developing better, so hopefully we'll be working on bottle- or breastfeeding and won't need a tube up her nose and down her gullet any more. Most of all, I want that PICC line out of her. But for now, we're on hold. Tim and I can't tell the day or the week any more. We want time to pass quickly, but at the same time we want to stay in the present moment, when she's doing well.

The pumping is just awful. Not physically, necessarily, but emotionally. It's like the pump reaches into my chest and wrings out my heart. It doesn't matter where I do it--I can be right by her isolette--it just feels awful. I'm sure it's something hormonal. Maybe biochemically, it's when I miss her the most. Who knows?

Tim and I made the time to walk Luke tonight. It wasn't far--just down to UPS and back. He was so happy! He's such a good dog. We're still laughing about him catching the possum on the front porch the other night. Apparently he did just what he does to his toys: pinned it down with a big front paw, and wrapped his mouth around its body.

Thus, another day has passed, and despite our restlessness, we have much for which to be grateful. Thank you for checking in on this blog and on our little girl. We truly appreciate your thoughts and prayers.