So we were all the way up to Dec. 1. Time flies. The boy, sister and I went to see the girl as usual, but it started to snow. Heavily. So we headed out much sooner than usual.
Dec. 2: To see Ella:) 2 pounds, 11 ounces. They gave her a bath last night and didn't tell me :(
(**I'm all about keeping things chronological, but I need to expand on this AND get through more days, so I'll catch you up on this entry in a minute. If you're patient and hang out till then, I'll make good on the title of this entry, too. **)
Dec. 3: To see Ella:) Back to 2.10, but doing well. She's very active — she turned self around last night in bed:) Very alert holding her. They took NASAL PRONGS OUT!! for time outs:)
Dec.4: To see Ella:) Up to 2.13 Eye test — everything looks great:) Nasal canula out:)
Dec. 5: Starting back to work. To see Ella:) 2.14:)And after work to see her:) (Boy, that sucked, going back to work part time. Have you figured out yet that I might feel that way?)
Dec. 6: To see Ella:) 3 POUNDS:) Sign on Isolette:) Maybe 32 wks we'll start trying to nurse.
Dec. 7: To see Ella w/Dad:) 3.1 I can bring clothes! Next bed change likely to be to a crib, nurse says!
Dec. 8 To see Ella:) She totally pulls back head to check me out. (Editor's Note: I think I might've said this already happened. A thousand apologies. This is REALLY when it happened.)
Dec. 9: To see Ella:) (Jumping in again. This week, in my planner I've made notes about Ella's room. I'm getting it ready for her. Wow.)
**OK. Time to update the bath thing.
So when I showed up the next day, I found a small stack of pictures on the shelf next to Ella. I leafed through them, then realized they were OF Ella. I was confused, thought maybe they were from her dad ... then I realize they were of her getting a bath.
That rippling/ripping sensation wrenching down my gut.
I asked the nurse, and yes. They gave her a bath after we'd left because of the heavy snow. I was, to put it mildly, devastated. All along, they'd told me about how I'd get to do certain things with Ella, like nursing her, putting clothes on, bathing her. I was looking forward to every first I could have, since so many had already been stolen.
So, as I held my baby and the pain deepened, I choked out to the nurse my despair. I don't know if she understood the depth of my sadness, but she was my favorite nurse and very sympathetic. She made a note in the chart.
Not a single nurse involved ever apologized to me, though they later explained that giving a bath was just an automatic for them, that they hadn't even considered how it would affect me. Except, my response was, if it was so automatic, why did they take pictures?
So, I'm trying not to remember that my daughter's first bath happened without me, but there IS the photographic evidence. And with that evidence came a stunning realization: She LOOKS like ME!
Here's Ella:
Here's me (with my mom ... who I look like in many ways.)
And because you've been so patient, here I am again, a bit older. Ain't I cute? I think I'd do just about anything to have that bonnet and sweater again.
