Weighting Game.

They must really, really like us here.

Our initial check-in happened on Tuesday afternoon, the birth occurred Thursday evening, and our checkout is all set for...

...

Yup. Not quite sure. And it's really OK given the factors. My boy was kicked out pretty early, so he was certainly bound to be on the smaller side. Dr. Z was induced, and those medication cocktails can add weight to the baby that's quickly shed after the birth. We knew he'd lose a fair amount over the course of the next day or so. It's expected, on the one hand, but in our case it was certainly a garauntee given the level of IV fluid provided to Mom during the induction process.

But nurses did acknowledge some difficulty with latching and feeding duration--all of which have resolved themselves over time--so the evidence suggests he needs some more monitoring before they can justify his healthy release.

Oh, and there's one final procedure they're consented to perform that will tucker him out and delay the subsequent feeding. So they're justifiably against putting the boy in a race that affords him no time for adequate recovery.

Thus, we sit and feed and change and eat and watch and talk. We do all those early formation activities that help christen and solidify a developing family unit. Mom does quite a bit during these sessions, obviously, and I take the role of occasional provider to help stabilize those things. We know the value of these activities, but still wish we were doing them at home.

And as I said, deep down I know it's really OK given all these factors. But deep down I've studied my ilk, and I know I often struggle with the moments that lack what I consider a familiar unfurling. In the manic scheduling associated with simple day-to-day living, it feels excruciatingly difficult to endure what's become, for lack of a better term, the "nothingness" comprising the space between tasks. It's almost as if the essential simplicity of life has become too dull for us. It can be hard to relinquish the compulsiveness I've developed through merely riding the contemporary merrygoround.

We are blessed, cared for, looked after, and on the mend. The sterility of this post-labor experience will dissolve, thanks to a car ride, and the nesting will begin.