Ahhhhh! Sweet Sleep.
and,
Morning Coffee
and,
Quiet, as in no noise, the hum of appliances only. I guess it's the refrigerator.
I wonder about before electricity - how a quiet house sounded - in the winter there would have to be a little fire crackling. In the hot months the windows would be open, so the sounds of nature would be coming in. That would be wonderful - to hear all the birds, roosters crowing.
I did not grow up on a farm, nor in the country, but at my grandmother's house, in town, there were not as many laws about keeping chickens and such within the city limit. I don't guess there were any.
Her house sat on the edge of, well, it was the fifties, sorry, it was the edge of, well, we of course were segregated neighborhoods - still are pretty much - but extremely so when I was a child and the income levels were vastly different. Anyway, neighbors had roosters. I loved it. And they were good, good neighbors. I loved hearing those sounds and the sound of the trains on the railroad track which ran just up the hill.
Anyway - it's morning. I went to bed, very tired, at 10:00 but not before getting a phone call from Laura Beth who was at the hospital. They had left at 8:00, to get there for the 9:00 feeding. She called me ecstatic because John had nursed - and had nursed really good on one side - fell asleep for the other side. That precious sweet milk that God provided for babies through their moms - it's like a drug - they always get so sleepy - so warm and cuddly next to mom and the "fountain" of nourishment. I didn't cry, but could have talked myself into it. That sentence, "He nursed", was music to my ears. He's a trooper. No question LB will post all about it, and do so with much clarity. She and Ada will be down shortly because she promised Ada that when she woke up this morning Ada could call from her bed, "Mommmmmeeeee,where arrrreeee youuuuu????"
Ada has a book titled , Mommy, Where Are You?, and she loves it. Each page has a mama hippo in different places and baby hippo looking for her asking the question. There is a die-cut on each page for the child to pull open a piece of the page revealing the mommy hippo. Ada loves that. She loves to call out to whomever be it Mommy, Near, Daddy, Sarah, Kake, MaeMae, Pop, saying, "__________, where are you?" and then we say "Here I am" in that sing sing voice, all happy and positive. She loves it. When she is staying at my house and I put her down for bed we always have to say and affirm that when she wakes up she can say, Near Where Are You? She loves it and it gives her that to look forward to, since she's having to go through that horrid routine of going to sleep. Too bad children can't appreciate the luxury of having someone get them ready for bed and carry them to bed and tuck them in. Wow. As adults, well, we're thinking, "In My Dreams......"
So - new day - Laura Beth and Scott will be going back to the hospital today around 9:30.
Sarah and I plan to be here all day, with Ada -
If anyone reads LB's posts and I'm thinking that whomever reads mine, well, a lot got here through my daughters' posts - let me applaud all of that couponing/slash stockpiling that she does. If I want to cook a meal it is so fun!!!! I just plunder through her stacks of things in the pantry, the freezer, and voila - it's there and I can prepare a meal. So fun. If I'm out of paper towel, I go in the closet in the guest bedroom, there it is. I'm a very extravagant user of paper towels - so I hope her stockpiling can keep up with me. I guess they should ration them out to me. Sometimes it's all a mystery. I'll be out of something and I'll think, "I know it's here I just have to think".
Okay - I can hear through Ada's monitor down here and sure enough, she's saying, "Daddeeeee, where arrrreeee you?" I guess she forgot that she could call for mommy this morning.
I waited a bit and knew that Scott was delaying a bit getting her. They got in pretty late from the H. because they waited for the 12:00 feeding. I haven't heard about it, though.
Anyway, I went up and got Ada and she was good with it. So, here we are and the house is definitely not quiet now. There's the slurping of her coffee/milk right next to me. The sound of PBS Kids on TV because she asks for that immediately and I'm good with it. Her cute little short legs stretched out next to me on the couch.
Okay, activity picking up. LB came down with Miss Medela who is now slurping milk from her "you know whats". Miss Medela is the cadilac breast pump with the strength of a baby's suck. LB is covered up with her "hooter hider". That's these cloth drapes made for covering up while nursing or pumping. They call it a Hooter Hider. Isn't that hilarious??????
I'm going to tell a funny story about myself. In the above sentence where I referred to LB's breasts as "You Know Whats" - well - it's from habit. It's not easy always for me to name personal parts and things. I can discuss that stuff, but with discretion - I like to feign a sense of modesty and, well, like I said, discretion. So - during one of those sitting periods in NICU, around John's little "station" Laura Beth and I were in some random conversations - and for some reason it led to my telling her about a time I was in a conversation with someone on the subject of S-E-X. So - rather than say that word out loud in NICU, which seems like a rather sacred place, with critical babies and doctors and nurses buzzing about - and it's all rather quiet in there - I spelled the word, sex, out to Laura Beth. And I did so seriously - it was no joke - I spelled it out. So Laura Beth interrupted me at that point and asked, "Okay, WHO in here can't spell the word SEX???!" I hadn't thought about it. We just died laughing. and then thought how much trouble we were in if John's doctor and nurses couldn't spell - not the kind of professional care we would be looking for.
I think I'm done with this post. Laura Beth had the good report that John nursed again at 12:00. YAY. Also, with the NeoS. his nasal passages are clear and he could breathe and nurse really good. YAY, again.
Now, they'll just have to take him off the NeoS and have him breathing good without it. In other words, no stuffiness. Keep your fingers crossed - or - you could pray for that. Better to pray - which I have this quote off of Voice of the Martys - it's an Andrew Murray quote about prayer. Anything A.M. says, well, I pay attention and take seriously. His life lived out His grace given passion for God. Here is the quote:
"Prayer is the pulse of life: by it the doctor can tell what is the condition of the heart. The sin of prayerlessness is a proof for the ordinary Christian or minister that the life of God in the soul is in deadly sickness and weakness." - Andrew Murray
and then, in my VOM Prayer Update there's this verse:
"praying always with all prayer and supplication in the Spirit, being watchful to this end with all perseverance and supplication for all the saints" - Ephesians 6:18
I really meant to post about the quote and the verse today - in regard to suffering saints in the body in this year 2010, and comparing it to my angst over John who was in NICU, away from Mom's and Dad's and Grandmother's arms - even with his being safe - and to imagine a loved one being in prison for his or her faith and knowing that their safety was definitely up for grabs and how my heart would be torn - I want my heart to be all over my brothers and sisters in Christ - the way it was all over John who was having lungs issues in NICU. I want the free church, the heart of the body of Christ in this free country, to always always carry around that prayer with a trusting burden for them, praying, because our brothers and sisters are in prison for Christ and being persecuted severely. That is a true and real thing. We'll talk about it later, some more. I'm thinking about having a whole separate blog about it.
1 comment:
Thanks for the great post!!! I'm soooo excited about John's nursing so well.
You know I'm right in there with you about the Church of Jesus Christ continually holding up in prayer the Persecuted Church. All that you said is forever on my mind.
Talk to you later.
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