Fluorescent green cardigan day
This morning LB had an appointment at the Paediatric clinic as a follow-up from his week in hospital as a newborn. He's officially absolutely fine and, the Registrar noted as he grinned up at her and tried to eat her tape measure, 'very interactive'. They don't want to see him again so he's officially discharged. I wasn't really expecting them to say anything else, but it's nice to have passed that symbolic miniature hurdle.
I've been remembering his time in NICU recently and particularly today, obviously. I'm some way into Charles Fernyhough's excellent book on baby and toddler development The Baby in the Mirror and the section on newborns has made me feel even worse about LB's time in hospital. It's made clearer to me how important touch is to newborns. Remembering him alone in the incubator for hours on end, with that badly inserted canula, and the nasal tube, and all those other wires, makes me weep at what his experience of touch must have been then.
And, knowing what we do now, that it was 'just' benign neonatal fits, it was all so unnecessary. Of course we couldn't have done anything else, and neither could the hospital staff, because it might have been something serious. But that unanaesthetised lumbar puncture and canula insertion, the nasal tube etc. etc., when he was actually fine. LB suffering at all is hard enough, but unnecessary suffering is very hard.
But I also feel so profoundly, undeservedly lucky. He is fine. One day when he was in NICU there was a Friends of the hospital table-top sale in reception. They were selling truly hideous cardigans for babies. I bought a fluorescent green one as a sort of bet with Fate - if he's okay, I'll dress him in this terrible garment. But if he isn't okay, at least I won't have to see him wearing this monstrosity. He's wearing it today.
I've been remembering his time in NICU recently and particularly today, obviously. I'm some way into Charles Fernyhough's excellent book on baby and toddler development The Baby in the Mirror and the section on newborns has made me feel even worse about LB's time in hospital. It's made clearer to me how important touch is to newborns. Remembering him alone in the incubator for hours on end, with that badly inserted canula, and the nasal tube, and all those other wires, makes me weep at what his experience of touch must have been then.
And, knowing what we do now, that it was 'just' benign neonatal fits, it was all so unnecessary. Of course we couldn't have done anything else, and neither could the hospital staff, because it might have been something serious. But that unanaesthetised lumbar puncture and canula insertion, the nasal tube etc. etc., when he was actually fine. LB suffering at all is hard enough, but unnecessary suffering is very hard.
But I also feel so profoundly, undeservedly lucky. He is fine. One day when he was in NICU there was a Friends of the hospital table-top sale in reception. They were selling truly hideous cardigans for babies. I bought a fluorescent green one as a sort of bet with Fate - if he's okay, I'll dress him in this terrible garment. But if he isn't okay, at least I won't have to see him wearing this monstrosity. He's wearing it today.