The Squirt

Started 04/28/2014 (What can I say?  I've been busy.):

And in one of the longest weeks I've ever had, our youngest and hopefully last child busted his way into the world two weeks earlier than expected.  Not one to accept the comfort of a warm restful existence, the Squirt insisted on joining us in the cold, harsh reality that is the world.

Less than a week old, and I already have doubts about his judgment.

Unfortunately, the cold, harsh reality that is the world did not want him out yet.  After dropping him off at the nursery, I made my way to the PACU to see how the Shieldmaiden was faring.  On my way back, I called my sister with the announcement.  I rounded the corner to the big observation window in the nursery and found myself staring at a room with the doctor, two nurses, and a radiology tech.  Usually, this sort of thing is not considered "a good sign," so despite the manifold opportunity for a bar joke, I ended the call with a simple deadpan, "Well, that's interesting.  I should probably go."

Not something your average parent wants to see.

Eventually, I was sent off to pack a bag for a possible flight to the nearest NICU in Great Falls.  I was cautioned not to tell the Shieldmaiden, lest she get overly concerned.  By the time I returned, a decision had been reached, and the flight team was on the way.

Make a prison break, and they stick you in solitary.

After a quick huddle with all interested parties, the conclusion was reached that perhaps it would be best if I went home and grabbed some rack time, then drive in the morning so that I had a way to get us both home.  I ran home, grabbed a double shot of NyQuil, and slept for almost an entire four hours (Through some experimentation, I have discovered that each shot of NyQuil provides two hours of sleep for me.  Your mileage may vary).

After waking up at the ungodly hour of 0400, I loaded out and drove off to Great Falls.  I tend to get drowsy at the wheel on drives greater than two hours (especially short-sleeped), but I had a plan:  drive until I started getting sleepy, pull over, and take a nap in the back.  Brilliant plan.

Unfortunately, my phone kept receiving texts.  Then, when I did manage to doze off for about ten minutes there was a rap on my window.  I looked up to find a Montana State Trooper with a quizzical expression.  After explaining to him that no, I wasn't injured, no my car wasn't broken, and no, the beer bottle I had parked next to was not mine (seriously, umpteen thousand miles of highway in this state and I park next to eight inches of beer bottle), he ran my license and asked when I was planning on hitting the road.  After I replied 1000, he suggested I pull off a quarter mile down the road next to a pair of grain elevators because in 45 minutes, I'd probably have my sleep interrupted two more times.  He also expressed surprise that I had made it thirty minutes without anybody else checking on me.

Ah, Montana.  Where stopping for hitchhikers and fellow motorists is expected, not condemned.  Also, traffic was light, which explains the lack of assistance I received.

A 5 Hour Energy and two cups of coffee later, I arrived in Great Falls without further incident.  I found my way to the NICU with my bag o' junk, got my ID checked, and went in to see my son.

Still not something your average parent likes to see.

No, the camo was not my idea.  Ah, Montana.

That  afternoon,they pulled the nasal cannula.  That night, they pulled the feeding tube and went to bottles.  The next morning, they told me that his blood cultures were negative, so they were finishing the last round of antibiotics and discharging him that afternoon.  A quick car seat check (They changed the handle recommendations back to lowered position only this year.  This will probably change back next year.), a final bottle, and the Squirt and I went on our first man's road trip.  He didn't seem all that thrilled.

A quick stop to drop the newborn off with his food supply mother, and then back home to crash with some Ambien.  Next morning, I picked up my now-clingy toddlers (who stayed that way for the next two weeks) and off to introduce them to their new sibling.

All's well that ends well.

By then the Shieldmaiden was ready for discharge, which was good, because I really hate being alone with two toddlers, especially since the infamous coloring-on-the-walls-in-the-same (closed) room-with-Dada-less-than-six-feet-away episode.  I still don't know where she hid that crayon.

Now, of course, the real fun begins.