Very Happy Independence Day

Last week I hit my breaking point with the NICU. We surpassed 40-something days and I ran out of patience. Thankfully, the end was near. On July 2, we were informed that Oliver could go home the next day if he remained spell-free for another 24 hours. I tried not to get my hopes up (remembering my experience with Phoebe), but still went to the store and stocked up on enough diapers and wipes for the apocalypse.

Wednesday rolled around and I went into the hospital like I always do. He made it to 12:30 p.m., the time he had last had a spell five days earlier. Once he made it, the nurse finally unplugged his monitor and untethered him. It was so nice to hold him without worrying about tripping over wires or losing the signal on his leads. After signing a bunch of paperwork, we loaded him into the car and headed home!

 Oliver is definitely the center of attention.

 The kids couldn't get enough of him.

 Phoebe gave him her pink blankie and kept bringing him stuffed animals and toys.

The next day, July 4, we celebrated mostly at home. We went to the park for a few minutes and then I took Bruce and Phoebe to see the fireworks with a friend while Scott stayed home with Oliver. Happy Independence Day indeed! It was the first day in 10 weeks that we weren't in the hospital.

Now I spend my days staring at him, pinching myself, and feeding him. I spend my nights feeding him too. I've got to give him some cred for sleeping 3-4 hours at a time though; that's already an improvement over my first two.