It took me four hours last night to get through my 'to be ironed' pile.
Those are four hours I'll never get back.
In a strange and unexpected twist the little miss is now tolerating her feeds.
As of 8:00 this morning she was at 17 mLs an hour. Our goal is 26.
It could be the formula change, it could be the new antibiotic they are giving her to treat a possible bacteria, or as the nurse practitioner told us, "It's Emily. It could be the fact that you put a headband on her."
Really, it's an answer to prayers.
If she reaches 26 mLs an hour, and stays there with no problem, Emily will come home and surgery will be postponed until she gains a little more weight.
Besides being more exhausted than I ever remember, I'm torn with this turn of events.
I want my baby girl to come home, but I want her to come home to stay. Just when we get back into a routine, and feel like life is normal again, it will be time to take Emily back to the hospital for her next surgery, and we'll be starting over.
Oh...don't listen to me...
Yesterday my nephew Josh, who is 5, called me to thank me for the water bottle Jason gave him for his emergency kit.
We talked for a few minutes and then Josh said goodbye.
Two minutes after hanging up my phone rang again.
"Noelle, I forgot to tell you something about my day," Josh said.
"I hurt my lip. It bled for about an hour."
"I thought my tooth was going to fall out."
"But my tooth can't fall out yet, because I have to get my pillow fixed first."
I asked what his tooth had to do with his pillow.
"I've heard some kids talk about the tooth fairy. I know the tooth fairy brings money."
"I've tried putting money under my pillow to see if it works, but the money always falls behind my bed."
"My pillow must not work right, so I have to fix it."
"But if all of my teeth fall out I'll just wear my fangs."
And with that I have nothing else to say at the moment.
I'll be here rocking with Elimy if you need me.