Ok, I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking where the f*ck has that purple writer gone? She promised more posts and stories but what the hell??
On Sunday 13th November, the nurses tells us that William will be able to come home in the next couple of weeks. 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 didn’t breastfeed which I found quite upsetting, I try to do it but I don’t have the milk and Mike is quite worried about me getting upset 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.
“It’s three AM, they’re all asleep, and no-one’s here to see.
As we rock slowly back and fourth, my baby boy and me.
His little hand is feather light, tucked up against my chin.
I hold his tiny hand in mine, and stroke his baby skin.
The house about us creaks and groans, the clock hands creep around.
He snuggles closer to me still, and makes his baby sounds.
I love these quiet hours to much, and cherish every one.
Store memories up inside my heart, for lonely nights to come.
All too soon he’ll be all grown up, his need for mummy gone.
But until then I still have time, for kisses and for song.
Time for quiet hours like this, with him cuddled in my arms.
Where I wish he’d always stay, protected, safe and warm.
And yet I know the day will come, when his tiny little hand,
Will be bigger than my own, he’ll have grown to be a man.”
Poem found on Facebook, unsure of the author so if you know who it is please let me know so that I can give them credit where due!
I struggle to sleep at night wondering what William is doing, how he is feeling and if he’s happy. I can hear everyone saying I’m sure he’s fine, but that’s no enough for me, that’s why I’ve been phoning the Unit every morning even though I’m in there every day. The nurses must think I’m a drama queen either that or hormonal, yes I’m definitely hormonal. Every little thing is making me cry, whether it be DIY SOS or when I put the spoon in the bin (yes I did actually do that).
I’m waking every night in the middle of the night and going down stairs and drinking umpteen cups of tea, I’m just like my mum, she does that when she can’t sleep tea settles her which is ironic because caffeine is supposed to make you more alert.
I seriously don’t know where the last 2 years have gone, one minute I’m pregnant and being rushed into have a baby at 28 weeks the next I’m trying to tame him!!
Seriously, this boy is active and I don’t know where he gets it from. I’m not saying that my husband and I are lazy (ok well maybe we are a bit) but it’s like someone puts a new battery in him EVERY MORNING.
It’s Mikes birthday the day I get discharged, I get to go home. I’m half happy because I want to be back in my own bed but also nervous because I’m further away from my little boy.
I’m still in hospital for a few days after William is born so I can go down and see him (almost) whenever I want.