C'mon people, I wouldn't leave you hanging like Jerry Seinfeld did with that sorry excuse for a series finale. I've just been busy. It turns out having a 9 week old baby at home requires a lot of time! Where's our stable of nurses with around-the-clock coverage? Where's the team of NICU doctors and pediatric surgeons, ready to
I'm not complaining. And the invoice crack above was just a joke. It's great to be home...with Rory...intact. But it does require a lot of work.
Can I digress here for a moment and tell you what an absolute advocate I have become for breast feeding? I mean, I'm not going to get all militant about it, but I get it. I know the advantages it offers. I know the benefits of breast feeding from when our first two kids were born. You've probably seen the same studies I have documenting this fact - dads get something like 90% more sleep when moms breastfeed. So keep up the good work, ladies. It's apparently good for the baby too...wink, wink.
But none of that for us right now. We're still on the gold-standard equivalent of baby formula. Did I mention previously that we anticipated using six cans per month? We went through the first can in 4 days. By my math, $45/can x 7.5 cans/month = chapter 13. Financial ruin and I get to share in the late night feed schedule? I thought the US legal system prevented this type of double jeopardy.
Rory had an appointment with her pediatrician on Monday. She also had an appointment with the surgeon today. We were supposed to see the GI on Friday, but they bumped us until next Tuesday. The surgeon was pleased with Rory's response to the dilations, as well as the several unscheduled stools she's had since leaving the hospital. But he's only keeping an ear to the situation in the event he gets called up to the plate. The GI will be the primary investigator from this point forward, so we eagerly await our first meeting with her.
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