![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
I have a confession.
Oct. 27th, 2005 11:56 pmI've been pouring all of my most sincere moments into a private journal. It's for Jake, and most of it is directed to him, and it makes me feel like we're more connected and together than we are. I've been on the internet very little, and have all kinds of things I need to say, like Noel I DO hear you, your email made me really happy and I'm glad you're doing well with God - I'm sorry I'm not around more for you lately...and actually, Babs I think they threw my placenta away long ago and it was too late to test it by the time they knew anything at all was wrong with the baby. They're acting like the final word on where the infection came from is "who knows". I thought your skin puncturing idea was right on, though.
When I got to the hospital this morning his nurse told me that when SHE got there, the night nurse she was relieving had him out in the seat again, and was just leaning her head near him looking at him. And he was looking back at her. And she said that he hadn't gone back to sleep since his 5 am feeding, and just didn't want to be alone. These little anecdotes effect me so much. He's trying to sleep through the night, not letting them wake him to eat, and staying alert more and more through the day. He is a constant hum in the back of my mind. The nurses there cannot believe that I make it there everyday, what with living an hour away, having three other small children, gas prices, hurricanes, etc. I cannot believe I only make it up there once a day (even though it's for hours, sometimes). They tell me it's too much trouble, that I need to rest, and I wonder if any of them have ever had a freaking baby.
It's Saturday at 1:00, btw. Bring my picture ID, a carseat and his footprints, they told me. Let's just say I'll be there.
We have this tradition, Ananda and I and more recently, Aaron, that when it gets cold we make hot chocolate and go sit on the sidewalk under the stars and drink it and sing songs. It's usually close to Christmas so we sing Christmas songs, but we're having unseasonably cold weather right now. So Grant and Ananda and Aaron and I all went outside, with a big tray of homemade chocolate chip cookies and hot cocoa from scratch (with whip cream and cinnamon powder on top, no less) and sang silly songs, like Old MacDonald and The Littlest Worm. Aaron gave me a big hug and said, "Mommy, you make the best food in the woy-old". These sorts of things are very normal to my kids, like the annual carving of a pumpkin and roasting of the seeds, to eat, and Green Eggs and Ham for Easter breakfast, but whenever I'm doing them, I'm constantly aware of how great it is, how much I wish I had had stuff like that, and how good they've got it. Especially tonight...none of our neighbors even have power for things like HOT chocolate or baking. We've been giving homeless people money as often as we can, but I keep wishing there was something more. Like, somebody on this block needs to run an extension cord to our house or we could deliver something to them or...something. I love all of our neighbors. We know everyone on our street on at least a passing hello and basic living situation basis.
For whoever it's relevant to (i.e., Bobby and nobody else local cares) Santa's Enchanted Forest is DECIMATED. Like half the trees are gone and half the remaining ones are ripped up/hanging askew. I drive by there on the way to the hospital, and it's just...pathetic. Some guy in a cherry picker was stringing a single strand of lights on this tree with no other trees around it and I was like...I don't know, I hope there's an asplundh truck on it's way with several dozen fully grown australian pines. Otherwise this year is going to be lame.
I'm sure I had lots of other things to say. All of it seems silly and disconnected right now. Maybe I'll go see if Grant and I can stay up through a (recorded) episode of Smallville and get some laundry folded in the process.
When I got to the hospital this morning his nurse told me that when SHE got there, the night nurse she was relieving had him out in the seat again, and was just leaning her head near him looking at him. And he was looking back at her. And she said that he hadn't gone back to sleep since his 5 am feeding, and just didn't want to be alone. These little anecdotes effect me so much. He's trying to sleep through the night, not letting them wake him to eat, and staying alert more and more through the day. He is a constant hum in the back of my mind. The nurses there cannot believe that I make it there everyday, what with living an hour away, having three other small children, gas prices, hurricanes, etc. I cannot believe I only make it up there once a day (even though it's for hours, sometimes). They tell me it's too much trouble, that I need to rest, and I wonder if any of them have ever had a freaking baby.
It's Saturday at 1:00, btw. Bring my picture ID, a carseat and his footprints, they told me. Let's just say I'll be there.
We have this tradition, Ananda and I and more recently, Aaron, that when it gets cold we make hot chocolate and go sit on the sidewalk under the stars and drink it and sing songs. It's usually close to Christmas so we sing Christmas songs, but we're having unseasonably cold weather right now. So Grant and Ananda and Aaron and I all went outside, with a big tray of homemade chocolate chip cookies and hot cocoa from scratch (with whip cream and cinnamon powder on top, no less) and sang silly songs, like Old MacDonald and The Littlest Worm. Aaron gave me a big hug and said, "Mommy, you make the best food in the woy-old". These sorts of things are very normal to my kids, like the annual carving of a pumpkin and roasting of the seeds, to eat, and Green Eggs and Ham for Easter breakfast, but whenever I'm doing them, I'm constantly aware of how great it is, how much I wish I had had stuff like that, and how good they've got it. Especially tonight...none of our neighbors even have power for things like HOT chocolate or baking. We've been giving homeless people money as often as we can, but I keep wishing there was something more. Like, somebody on this block needs to run an extension cord to our house or we could deliver something to them or...something. I love all of our neighbors. We know everyone on our street on at least a passing hello and basic living situation basis.
For whoever it's relevant to (i.e., Bobby and nobody else local cares) Santa's Enchanted Forest is DECIMATED. Like half the trees are gone and half the remaining ones are ripped up/hanging askew. I drive by there on the way to the hospital, and it's just...pathetic. Some guy in a cherry picker was stringing a single strand of lights on this tree with no other trees around it and I was like...I don't know, I hope there's an asplundh truck on it's way with several dozen fully grown australian pines. Otherwise this year is going to be lame.
I'm sure I had lots of other things to say. All of it seems silly and disconnected right now. Maybe I'll go see if Grant and I can stay up through a (recorded) episode of Smallville and get some laundry folded in the process.
