He was born two weeks early--just after the Fourth of July--and he was just a little guy. Six pounds, five ounces.
He spent the first six days in the NICU, first for low blood sugar (which was easily rectified) and then for bilirubin levels (i.e., jaundice) that worried the hospital more than they worried anyone else (including our pediatrician).
Still, even in the hospital he was fantastically cute.
And super patient. He had a lumbar puncture, an IV in his head, glucose tests (aka blood draws) three to six times a day, and eventually he had to sleep under bright lights (with a mask on) and on a bed of light (as part of his bilirubin treatment).
But finally, after many conversations with the attending doctors and quite a few moments of my public crying, his glucose levels were staying up and bilirubin levels were coming down, and they let us go.
I helped the nurses take the wires off of his heart, lungs, foot. When I finally held him for the first time with no cords attached, it was one of the holiest moments of my life.
So we took him home.
My goodness, I love my little man.
And my big man too.
Jed and Sarah and Reed for the win.
