Best Laid Plans

I had it all worked out: I was coming back to work today, and it would be fine. As today started to get closer, it started to be less appealing, but still, it's fine! I'm fine! I am a superhero.

I guess the adrenaline has worn off and the hormones have set in. This morning was the first time that I could not hold it together. When we stopped in to see him before work, he was fussy and squirmy, crying quite a bit, and his O2 levels were all over the place. I just wanted to be able to help him; I just want him to be well. I was watching him and thinking about the long summer ahead of all of us and wondering how we will all make it through. All the time, I also know that many, many people have made it through this, and that there we are doing everything that we can with what we have.

Pete fell in love immediately with this baby. I was holding back out of surprise and fear or any of the other weapons of the Spanish Inquisition (aside from a fanatical devotion to the pope). It was a shocking experience, and it happened very quickly. I went from pregnant to flaccid belly in 11 hours, and though I am mostly used to it now, it's still so weird. It was hard to believe that little guy is mine. I knew it, and I felt it, but because he lives in his third womb and my short-term housing duties are over prematurely, it was harder to grasp that connection. And it was a self-protection scheme because clearly, we are not in control of this situation.

But Pete was right last week when he said that I could allow myself to attach to this baby, because it would not be any less devastating were we to lose him. Being able to hold him has helped, and so has the gradual passage of time, but as the attachment grows, so does the fear, and watching him struggle this morning was too much.

We went back to the house. I had every intention of just staying home, but then I checked my work email, and there was a reminder about something I could not remember having done... or not... I knew it would just keep bugging me, so I pumped, Pete toasted some home-baked bread that was a gift from a neighbor, and we came in to work. I'll stay here as long as I can stand it, and then head back home. I'll need to pump again, after all, and I did not bring my stuff with me. There are locations here at the U for pumping, so I have written to the designated authorities to check into it. Hopefully, there is one close by because I will need to go twice a day.

This week is for establishing routines, as best as we can. I'll ease back in and figure out how to work for eight hours, pump for four, visit our boy two or three times a day, sleep, eat, and do everything else.

Wow.

This should be interesting...