Warmth

Today was quiet and relaxing.  There seem to be fewer people in the NICU.  Asher slept most of the day, opening his eyes only a few times briefly.  Some positives of the day include Asher handling increased amounts of milk through the feeding tube, having fewer phlegmy sounds in his chest, yawning, stretching, and all around cuteness.  Much of our time was spent visiting and laughing with friends we feel very grateful for.

As I type with him on my stomach, I feel like he's given me his first, honest-to-goodness eye contact.  We've tried to be quieter and stay out of his face today, and it seems to be working.  At work, I sometimes use an analogy of getting a cat to come to you from under a porch.  The harder you try, the louder and scarier you get, and the further the cat gets from you.  We wanted so badly to interact with Asher this week that at times I think we scared him away.  Backing off by talking to and touching him less feels like it's helped lure him out a bit.

There was no big news on tests or milestones today.  Dr. Allen, Asher's geneticist, stopped by to discuss some things that he'd be looking in his testing, though so far nothing has been found to explain the "why" of Asher's condition.  Genetic testing is improving rapidly, and might someday be able to provide answers, but not now.

This is the most unexpected and important thing that's ever happened to my family.  Yet somehow, a need to explain why or how this happened has escaped me.  I'm glad for that, as it's something we'll likely never know, though that doesn't always keep people from trying to explain the unexplainable.  What's hard for me is not the "why" of the past, but the "what" of the future. Both seem unlikely to be answered.

I wondered today if Asher would ever have a girlfriend.

Our nurse mentioned that she had been in the NICU the day I came upstairs with Asher.  I think I talked to her, but she was only vaguely familiar to me. As she described what I looked like at the time, and I reflected on what those first hours were like.  Devastation.  Dissociation.  Questions to her about that morning that I couldn't quite form went unasked.

I remember I was freezing, and confused as to whether it was the room or me that was cold.  As Brad sat with me, I told him they'd get him a blanket, like they did for me, but he didn't need it.  Tonight, I'm sitting comfortably in nearly the same spot, shirt open, Asher on my chest.  We're both warm.