After our first bath at home
Peter enjoyed his first bath at home, and Dad was proud to see him wearing the "Doctor Who" body suit he got especially for him. I dedicated a lot of time breastfeeding, which I missed out on doing while in hospital. It was a lovely time.
Of course, speaking of 'hospital' there was a little proviso in leaving - getting a follow-up blood test to check how his borderline jaundice was progressing. On day eight, we had a lactation consultant appointment at the hospital (which was brilliant at helping me) and so we took Peter to do the blood test afterwards. Then it was off to catch-up on some food shopping!
Life was returning to normal. But just as we hit the first shop to collect some bibs for Peter, we received a phone call on the mobile. It was the dreaded paediatricians again, and it wasn't good news. Two hours later and the blood results were already in. They wanted to admit him that night, to do some light therapy for his jaundice. It broke my heart...
Love you Sweetie!
So my little baby boy, got another feeding tube up his nose, he was cooked under the lights for 12 hours and had to wear a blindfold so it wouldn't burn his eyes. My breastfeeding got put on hold again, but at least I got to spend the night with him in the Paediatric ward. On the whole though, I hated it and I hated the whole industrialised attitude at the hospital.
I don't want to mar Peter's story with grievances about hospitals, but I will say that while I respect the need of trained medical staff to save lives which are in serious jeopardy, I'm not sure why they would want to clog the system up with "just in case" patients. One would think a firm diagnosis would ensure necessary treatment, rather than treating every baby as if they were in serious jeopardy.
I can only say this having birthed two children, ten years apart. The system has changed from a diagnosis based treatment plan, to a mass production line of neonates - all being treated as if they're going to die. My son was denied breast milk during those vital few days following birth, in preference for being dosed up on antibiotics, formula and glucose drips instead.
I cannot say if these added measures saved his life or not, because it wasn't a diagnosis based treatment plan. It was explained to me every time, as a, 'just in case', measure.
Peter loves cuddles
But that part of our lives is behind us now. Our little Peter is going from strength to strength. Whatever lack of appetite he experienced in the past, has been made up for now! Sadly, we had to give up breast milk, due to Peter's tongue being the wrong shape for good extraction, but it was the second bout of mastitis which really did it for me. I'm glad we stuck with it, for as long as we could though.
And now about Peter's name. We had originally selected another one, and it's one I really loved. It was, "Millan". Feedback from relatives however, wasn't very encouraging. We decided to err on the side of caution and stick with a traditional name instead. "Peter" was in honour of David's departed Father.
So in a nutshell, that is Peter's story, of the first eight days of his life. When I look at his older sister though, I know how quickly time flies by. It's why I cherish every smile I give him now. He will linger with us for as long as possible, but manhood will soon call him one day, and I will have to say goodbye to my little boy, once and for all.
In the meantime its lots of cuddles and kisses!