They've taken him out of the heated bed, and moved him into the healthy-baby plexiglass box. You know, the ones that 'normal' newborns go in. His IV vitamin/supplement stuff is down to half what they were two days ago. He's, as you can see, eating and awake and aware.
They also have him in some of the clothes we bought him, and he's fucking A-DORABLE in them, of course. Unfortunately, the camera was forgotten in the truck and wasn't retrieved until after he was through with all of his vital checks and I didn't have the heart to unwrap him again for the sake of a picture because he gets fussy when he isn't all wrapped up. Maybe tomorrow we won't leave the camera in the truck and I'll be able to get that pic while he's unwrapped for his check-up.
I DO have one more picture, but blogger is being a twit and won't let me upload it, and of course, it's the best of the pics we took tonight. We're still playing with the settings on the new camera, and this one daggum picture is the one that came out perfect, or, ok, maybe not perfect but a sight better than the rest.
Oh, Nicholas was much quieter tonight, not so aggitated. Mom and Dad came in and seemed to have made huge strides in coping, she was smiling and talking to him, and Dad wasn't friggin yelling, thank god! They had their camera out too, and the flash was like a strobe light. That didn't seem prudent with a child prone to seizures, but the nurses didn't say anything, so what the hell do I know? I was just glad to see that the mother was able to spend some "quality" time with Nicholas and not be so terrified of him. I had decided on the way to the hospital tonight that I was going to talk to her, so in my mind, for most of the ride I was trying to decide just what to say. And, even though I never figured out just how I was going to put it, I had decided that the best thing that I could tell her was that she'd never get these days back, regardless of what the future held, these first few days are irretrievable - I wanted to tell her to enjoy her son as best she could, to relish the weight of his tiny body in her arms, the tickle of his hair against her cheek, his fingers around hers, his warmth against her lips... I guess she figured that out on her own though, and again, none of my business, but I was thankful that she had.
The baby girl across the way was still being transfused and the doctor told the mother that this was mile 2 or 3 of their marathon, that there was a long road ahead of them. I still wonder what's wrong with the baby, who happens to be beautiful by the way.
And the cute little guy to Nova's right - the one who stopped breathing twice last night - not a single alarm went off from him tonight, so aparently he's doing better and maybe he'll get to go home on Monday like they told the mother on Sunday.
Nova's nurse tonight (he seems to have a different one every time we're there, which seems strategic, so they don't get too attached maybe?) was a doll. Once she took all his vitals and handed me his bottle, she pretty well left us alone. That guy last night crawled our asses the whole time and made it hard to "be" with Nova. He was funny, and capable, but a little, well... clingy?
OK, one more try at that other picture and I'm off to bed!