29

He's 29 weeks gestational age today. Time is passing pretty quickly, even though we look at him with longing every time we visit. We want that baby, and it seems like it will be ages before we get him home. Then we realize that it's already been three weeks since we drove to the hospital with that feeling of doomed resignation hanging over us.

He's 1140 grams, which is about 2.5 pounds in America where we refused to adopt the metric system. They have changed his feedings to 18, then 20, then 22 milliliters every three hours instead of the continuous push. I guess he will stay at 22 ml for a while. He's been "stooling" (a new verb to add to the lexicon) on his own for the most part. He's still scheduled for regular suppositories, but I guess he has not needed them as much lately (lucky boy). They are weaning him down on the O2 pressure, from 3 liters to 1 liter. He still "spells" periodically, which is normal for preemies and disconcerting for parents, though we are getting used to it. Somewhat. I don't need to see him go grey again. Fortunately, the spells I have seen in the past couple of days have not been that bad.

Pete had a good, long cuddle last night while I went to see "Sex and the City," the movie, with Christine. We had purchased our tickets for the opening night weeks ago, but Finn caused just a slight hiccup in those plans. If I had to choose what I would miss, Finn let me have the best show: Eddie Izzard, the night before I went into the hospital. We had tickets for "Spamalot" the same night I was admitted, and Christine and Mercedes used them so they would not be wasted. While I was in labor and giving instructions to Pete, this was very important to me.

I managed to get through the baby bins that my aunt, Cindy, sent out to us two years ago, and I found the two that contained relevant materials, although Finn will need more tiny clothes. My cousin, Andrew, was born at 5 pounds, so there are a few preemie things floating around out there. We'll get the rest of the stuff we need when we have a better idea of the plan and when I feel comfortable enough bringing baby stuff into the house.

It's the weekend of my 20-year high school reunion. I had a ticket for that, too. I wish that I could be there tomorrow, but Pete has an out-of-town gig, and we feel that one of us has to be in town, just in case.