The nurses tell us that William will be able to come home in the next couple of weeks and it’s Tuesday 8th November.  We’re both in shock, but very happy.  We don’t need any equipment because our little man is breathing by himself and confidently wolfing back his 2 hourly supply of milk.  I cannot breastfeed which I find really upsetting, I try to do it but I don’t have the milk and Mike is quite worried about me getting stressed and tells me William will be fine on formula so he’s drinking a mixture of expressed milk and a formula milk especially designed for premature babies.

The hospital have a room, a sleeping in room.  So for the first couple of nights the mummy can sleep in a room with the baby to adjust to the change, they’ve booked me in to a room on the Monday and Tuesday night to see how I get on.  Mikes a bit disappointed that he can’t also stay but they only have a single bed, we ask about him taking in a lounger chair that the mums use to breastfeed but they don’t seem keen.  I feel for him I wonder if he feels left out, but it either doesn’t seem to bother him or he’s hiding it (which I suspect is what it is) and I’m taken up with anxiety about spending a night alone with William.

The family room where I slept the night before

It feels nice to start with, I lay in bed watching him sleep in his cot.  I should’ve used that time to sleep but I couldn’t sleep, I turn myself around so that my head is up the end of the cot.  I can hear him breathing, but still keep the heart monitor on.  As soon as he rolls over and I quickly sit up, I know he’s going to be hungry any minute and then the crying starts.

I think I slept about 3 hours that Monday night, I did wonder what Tuesday night will be like whether it’ll be the same and hopefully it’ll be easier now I know what to expect.  I push his cot back into the ward back into the place where he was the day before and tell the nurse I’m going for a shower.

“How did you get on?”  She asks, I can’t bring myself to say it was a long night so I reply;
“Fine.”
“That’s good.  He can probably come home today.” 

I am in total shock, I think I smiled and said ok I’m going for a shower.  I then rushed back to my room to phone Mike, he’s about to leave for work.

“Hun, they said he can come home today!”  I squeal.
“That’s good isn’t it?”  He replies, I manage to respond with a ’yes’.

Letter from William to the hospital

I remember being in the shower saying to myself that he’s coming home today, saying it over and over in my head and it finally sunk in when I packed my bags up and went back into the ward.  I had been waiting for this day for so long and finally it was here, but I felt so scarred!

Mike had gone into work and told his boss, so he had popped home for the car seat and come straight into the hospital.  Although he shouldn’t have rushed because we have a bunch of discharge information to take and they’re also giving us supplies of milk until I can get to the GP to get more.

It’s dark and tea time by the time we come home with William, it feels almost alien walking through the front door carrying the car seat with William in it.  It’s almost surreal, I’ve pined for this moment but all of a sudden my anxiety kicks in.

To be continued…

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