So I did my best to sleep at home, but that didn't work out so well. I got some sleep, but I missed my wife and son. So the next morning it was back to the hospital nice and early.
When I got there, Natasha was up but still in bed. We were both kind of groggy but I was ready for a day of getting to know my son better.
Having been through an abdominal surgery similar to a C-section's (according to my doctor when I had my aneurysm), I was worried about Tash pushing herself too hard during the day...but she got up and showered and dressed and readied herself for visitors and a day with Malcolm. She looked great for someone who had just been cut open, but she was happy (and while I knew she was pushing herself and it would catch up with her, I kept a bit quiet).
The nurses brought in Malcolm and we spent some quality family time together. I did notice that he looked a bit yellow, but Tash felt it was just the lighting. We had many visitors over the course of the day and it wore all of us out. By night time, the nurse even noticed he looked a bit yellow and mentioned it to the doctors. Yes, it turned out he was a bit jaundiced, but we both knew that this was a common and easily fixable problem (we had seen other family members and friends deal with the issue). So the next few days, he stayed in the nursery except for feeding times (and we now had to supplement his feeding with a bit of formula administered by syringe).
All this time, all I wanted was to bring my wife and son home so we could get started on our new life together. When that day finally came on Friday, we couldn't get discharged fast enough.
The first weekend at home was just plain bizarre. It was great having Natasha's family with us because they were really helpful. Particularly when it came to breast feeding. While Malcolm had no real issues latching on while in the hospital, once we got him home it was a different story. My wife's breasts became engorged and for the little guy it was like trying to latch onto a bowling ball. The farce that ensued to alleviate the problem was just too funny for words (my wife sitting in bed with my sister-in-law standing over her changing out hot compresses on her breasts every minute for twenty minutes, while my niece is slung on my sister-in-law's back, with myself holding Malcolm with my pinky in his mouth to suck on, all the while my mother-in-law is watching and my brother-in-law and nephew are just outside the door trying to avoid years of therapy even thinking about what's going on inside...you had to be there).
Monday brought a bris and about 70 people to fill our house. Thankfully, the majority of the renovation work that would be used by our guests was done and ready to be used by people. The bris itself was crazy and uneventful according to most people and that Malcolm was very calm during the procedure/ceremony. Of course, most people weren't present in Malcolm's room prior to the start of the ceremony to hear his screaming while the mohel did all the "prep" work...what he did downstairs in front of everyone was mostly for show...I'm surprised Tash & I got through that part in one piece...by the time everything was over, Malcolm had no problem's latching on regardless of engorgement (I guess trauma will do that to you).
By Tuesday, it was just Tash, myself and Malcolm left to deal with each other, a house that still isn't quite finished and an ever growing pile of "Thank You" notes to find the energy to deal with.
Be seeing you.
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