27

The book says that at the 27th week of pregnancy, the fetus looks like a "thinner, smaller, redder version of what he or she will look like at birth."

They got that right. He was 27 weeks on last Friday, and he's thin, small, and red, though not as small as the book--or I--expected him to be.

Also, his lungs, liver, and immune system are not yet fully mature. Finn is having to do some things for himself very early, and the medical establishment is filling in the holes where he can't compensate. This is why he needed the phototherapy to correct the jaundice, why he needed the transfusion today to help with his red blood cell count, and why he is on the Hi-Flo and the C-PAC. I should still be doing things for him, but the doctors and nurses are taking care of that now.

He's 915 grams today, which is 2.017 pounds, so he's catching back up to his birth weight. They up his feeding every hour, but he has quite a way to go before he catches up with me. My boobs are busy. And immense. I pumped this evening at the hospital in one of their little rooms and got 155 ml, so I am progressing every day as well.

When we arrived this evening, he was getting the promised blood transfusion. In his head. They had the IV in his scalp because the nurse could not get it into his arm or leg. When we left, she was getting ready to take it out and put his C-PAC back on. While I pumped, Pete sat with him and changed his diaper and took his temperature.

I feel better now than I did earlier today. I was down, worried, and lonely, which started last night when Pete called me from his gig during a break. He was in the middle of a conversation when I said "hello;" people were laughing and talking, and he was listening to them and laughing, and here I was at home, getting ready to pump, feeling extremely tired, and absolutely left out. I would have been too tired to stop down in any case, and probably would have felt overwhelmed by the attention of friends, but still... it's not like life is back to normal now that I am not pregnant anymore. It's a weird limbo in which I don't have a baby, but I do. I am tied to a machine, getting up in the middle of the night to pump, with no baby. I have the inconvenience without the reward.

I went to the co-op two days ago for the first time since Finn was born, and I bought whatever I felt like buying, which was bittersweet. I'd rather still be pregnant and not be eating brie, but I am not pregnant, so I bought brie. I'm still not bothering with caffeine for the most part because I don't miss it, and I am also not planning on drinking because he's just so little. I would not have been drinking anyway, and even though I know that I could once and awhile with meals, it does not feel right to me. He's just so little, and he's relying on my for food. And, he's just so little.

I am used to his littleness, though, and the babies in the NICU who are close to term seem freakishly huge to me. It's hard to imagine him being that size. It's going to be a long summer, and I am looking forward to him growing, changing, putting on weight, and becoming more stable, but in a weird way, I will probably miss the tiny-ness.