Clare continues to get tired out and can't finish her bottle. Our evening nurse, Peggy, whom we adore, told us this might happen: she'd feed well for a couple days, then act as if she's forgotten what to do. Even the nursing seems to have lost its point; she spends her time very quietly wide-eyed and examining the world she can see (which is within about six inches). Clare is packing on the weight steadily, though, and developing the chubby cheeks of a term baby, so it's not like she's given up all endeavors.
A small victory today: she's no longer getting lipids (fats) through her PICC line, so that means one less attachment we have to manage when we change her or pick her up. She's consuming enough now that she's getting all the Essential Fatty Acids she needs. Her Baby Gatorade has been cut way down too, and hopefully will be discontinued tomorrow. When that happens, she'll be free from all lines except the cords to her heart and respiration rate monitors, and these can be easily unplugged and replugged-in for convenience. She will keep her PICC line in for twenty-four to forty-eight hours once her IVs have ended, and then that will be removed. That will be a day worth celebrating.
Tim just asked me if it had really been twenty days since Clare had been born. Yes--and tomorrow she'll be three weeks old. It doesn't seem like that long, he said. Rather, it's felt "like one continuous day with some breaks for sleep." That pretty much sums it up.
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