Snow Day
The phone rang yesterday shortly before noon. I answered and found the twins’ NICU nurse on the other end. My first thought was “uh oh.” When your family member’s nurse calls it’s usually with bad news, like the patient has taken a turn for the worse or is being kicked out for refusing to stop smoking. I braced myself for the former.
The nurse quickly assured me that nothing was wrong. She simply wanted to give us an update on the twins. Des Moines saw its third measurable snowfall in a week yesterday, which she feared would make the roads treacherous and prevent us from trekking to the NICU. Little did she realize that I recently purchased a mighty Subaru wagon with all-wheel drive, ensuring my safe passage through the swirling snow no matter how perilous the roads. Plus we live less than three miles from their hospital so I could probably walk there if I had to.
The nurse had nothing but good news for us. The twins are off their bile lights, hopefully for good. Both would have their IV lines removed in the future.* They’re both taking more than an ounce at each feeding. They’re both tied for the cutest babies in history of the NICU, which she never actually said but I’m pretty sure she was thinking.
90 minutes after talking to her I stepped outside and started my car. 105 minutes after talking to her I climbed into my toasty car with windows defrosting to actually drive to the hospital. The roads were snow-covered but passable. I’ve seen worse. In fact, I used to drive through worse a few times every year on my 35-mile each way commute to work. That’s one of the big advantages of being a full-time parent: If I think the weather is too dangerous for travel I can simply stay at home and no one will yell at me, or at least no one with the power to sign my paychecks will yell at me.
I arrived at the hospital planning to hold Tory as per our agreement where I hold a different baby every day so as not to show favoritism to one or the other as that could cost me my choice of nursing homes when they’re supporting me in my old age. Unfortunately the nurse was working on Tory when I arrived, getting him dressed and preparing his IV for removal, so I got to, er, had to hold Ian for the day.
Holding either one is almost the exact same experience. They sleep, periodically open their eyes to confirm that nothing worth waking up is happening, and fall back asleep. I haven’t seen them much without wires covering their faces, but they look identical to me, so they’d better develop unique personalities real quick or I’ll never be able to tell them apart.
By the time bottle-feeding rolled around, the nurse was finished working on Tory, so I could have switched be to give Tory his turn enduring a daddy feeding, but opted to stand pat with Ian. The nurse handed me his bottle and I set to work feeding him with little luck. Ian was fast asleep, and no amount of prodding or talking would wake him. I got him to take a couple ccs, far less than he had been taking. As Ian slept on my lap I noticed Tory was staring at us the whole time from his isolette and realized I should have switched babies. They’re less than two weeks old and already jointly playing mind games with me.
I went back home to trade places with Ellie, and everything turned out for the best. Since Ian barely ate for me, the nurse let Ellie feed Tory and feed Ian again. Ellie managed to coax both into drinking close to 10ccs.
They were sleepy again for me today, so Ellie got to feed both again. This time they achieved a breakthrough: Tory drank 20ccs, and Ian drank 35ccs, the whole bottle. Now we just need them to eat that well every three hours and they’ll be able to come home. Even if it snows on the day they’re supposed to come home, my car will be able to handle it.
* They came out today.
The nurse quickly assured me that nothing was wrong. She simply wanted to give us an update on the twins. Des Moines saw its third measurable snowfall in a week yesterday, which she feared would make the roads treacherous and prevent us from trekking to the NICU. Little did she realize that I recently purchased a mighty Subaru wagon with all-wheel drive, ensuring my safe passage through the swirling snow no matter how perilous the roads. Plus we live less than three miles from their hospital so I could probably walk there if I had to.
The nurse had nothing but good news for us. The twins are off their bile lights, hopefully for good. Both would have their IV lines removed in the future.* They’re both taking more than an ounce at each feeding. They’re both tied for the cutest babies in history of the NICU, which she never actually said but I’m pretty sure she was thinking.
90 minutes after talking to her I stepped outside and started my car. 105 minutes after talking to her I climbed into my toasty car with windows defrosting to actually drive to the hospital. The roads were snow-covered but passable. I’ve seen worse. In fact, I used to drive through worse a few times every year on my 35-mile each way commute to work. That’s one of the big advantages of being a full-time parent: If I think the weather is too dangerous for travel I can simply stay at home and no one will yell at me, or at least no one with the power to sign my paychecks will yell at me.
I arrived at the hospital planning to hold Tory as per our agreement where I hold a different baby every day so as not to show favoritism to one or the other as that could cost me my choice of nursing homes when they’re supporting me in my old age. Unfortunately the nurse was working on Tory when I arrived, getting him dressed and preparing his IV for removal, so I got to, er, had to hold Ian for the day.
Holding either one is almost the exact same experience. They sleep, periodically open their eyes to confirm that nothing worth waking up is happening, and fall back asleep. I haven’t seen them much without wires covering their faces, but they look identical to me, so they’d better develop unique personalities real quick or I’ll never be able to tell them apart.
By the time bottle-feeding rolled around, the nurse was finished working on Tory, so I could have switched be to give Tory his turn enduring a daddy feeding, but opted to stand pat with Ian. The nurse handed me his bottle and I set to work feeding him with little luck. Ian was fast asleep, and no amount of prodding or talking would wake him. I got him to take a couple ccs, far less than he had been taking. As Ian slept on my lap I noticed Tory was staring at us the whole time from his isolette and realized I should have switched babies. They’re less than two weeks old and already jointly playing mind games with me.
I went back home to trade places with Ellie, and everything turned out for the best. Since Ian barely ate for me, the nurse let Ellie feed Tory and feed Ian again. Ellie managed to coax both into drinking close to 10ccs.
They were sleepy again for me today, so Ellie got to feed both again. This time they achieved a breakthrough: Tory drank 20ccs, and Ian drank 35ccs, the whole bottle. Now we just need them to eat that well every three hours and they’ll be able to come home. Even if it snows on the day they’re supposed to come home, my car will be able to handle it.
* They came out today.
posted by Matt at
10:50 PM
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