Chapter 25: In Which Sigrid's Father Has Met His Daughter
So, Mr. Daddy dropped by yesterday. I do not think he had understood the severity of the situation until he saw Sigrid. He really was quite shocked by the sight, even though he had seen the photos. "What is that cannula for? Is it normal for her to do that? Is she in pain?"
I really could not help but feeling sorry for him. Sigrid is his only child - and most likely will remain as his only child, since he is not that young any longer - and he had such high expectations for - well - everything. And God knows Mr. Daddy deserves a child. A healthy, plump little baby. The thing is that I am not able to give him one.
And no. That does not mean that I would not love my little Sigrid. Or that he would not. It is just that this is not what we expected.
Christ, that sounds so whiny and cold and whatnot. I think I should better shut up.
Anyway, Mr. Daddy brought her a tiny dinosaur dress (which actually fits her pretty well!) and a pink Moomin blanket. :) He was not allowed to hold her (which I was, later yesterday), but it seemed to be quite enough for him to let Sigrid hold his little finger in her hand. (Not that her fingers would have reached even close around his finger but...)
Sigrid is doing reasonably fine. Her weight has gone down a bit, but that is nothing to worry about. She has also started to practice swallowing, i.e. I give her a tiny bit of milk formula every day in her mouth so that she can swallow it. She is a sweetheart. A brave little girl. Mummy's princess.
Mr. Daddy and I did the all too familiar mistake of starting to talk about this thing between us. Some might call it 'a relationship' - even I did, at a time - but both he and I know better than that. In the end, he quite simply asked if I would do the same things as I had, if I got the chance to start from the beginning. (He was referring not only to the thing between us but to Sigrid and the earlier miscarriages, too.)
My answer? "Hell yes."
I did love him once. I still do, in a way. But now I also know that it would never work out between us. We are too different - and I am not talking about the age gap here, people. He is just... simply out of my league. But we get along with each other well enough as friends and colleagues, too, even if there is some... obvious tension between us. (Yes, he kissed me before he left. And I am not talking about a peck on the cheek. Not going to go into the dirty details here, but let's just state that I doubt I would have the strength to refuse should he ever suggest something, you know...)
Now I am back to the NICU to watch over Sigrid. I like to think that she knows that I am there and finds some comfort in that. Last night was a bit easier than the earlier ones, but we still have a loooooooong way to go.
I really could not help but feeling sorry for him. Sigrid is his only child - and most likely will remain as his only child, since he is not that young any longer - and he had such high expectations for - well - everything. And God knows Mr. Daddy deserves a child. A healthy, plump little baby. The thing is that I am not able to give him one.
And no. That does not mean that I would not love my little Sigrid. Or that he would not. It is just that this is not what we expected.
Christ, that sounds so whiny and cold and whatnot. I think I should better shut up.
Anyway, Mr. Daddy brought her a tiny dinosaur dress (which actually fits her pretty well!) and a pink Moomin blanket. :) He was not allowed to hold her (which I was, later yesterday), but it seemed to be quite enough for him to let Sigrid hold his little finger in her hand. (Not that her fingers would have reached even close around his finger but...)
Sigrid is doing reasonably fine. Her weight has gone down a bit, but that is nothing to worry about. She has also started to practice swallowing, i.e. I give her a tiny bit of milk formula every day in her mouth so that she can swallow it. She is a sweetheart. A brave little girl. Mummy's princess.
Mr. Daddy and I did the all too familiar mistake of starting to talk about this thing between us. Some might call it 'a relationship' - even I did, at a time - but both he and I know better than that. In the end, he quite simply asked if I would do the same things as I had, if I got the chance to start from the beginning. (He was referring not only to the thing between us but to Sigrid and the earlier miscarriages, too.)
My answer? "Hell yes."
I did love him once. I still do, in a way. But now I also know that it would never work out between us. We are too different - and I am not talking about the age gap here, people. He is just... simply out of my league. But we get along with each other well enough as friends and colleagues, too, even if there is some... obvious tension between us. (Yes, he kissed me before he left. And I am not talking about a peck on the cheek. Not going to go into the dirty details here, but let's just state that I doubt I would have the strength to refuse should he ever suggest something, you know...)
Now I am back to the NICU to watch over Sigrid. I like to think that she knows that I am there and finds some comfort in that. Last night was a bit easier than the earlier ones, but we still have a loooooooong way to go.