Today Cory is spending a few hours re-learning infant CPR, and I spent some time with the lactation consultant. Our lives now revolve around the biggest thing that needs to happen in order for us to go home: gaining weight. Ivy has a prescribed amount of milk she needs to take, and it's a chore almost every time. This is because she tends to go to sleep partway through her feeding, and we are discovering it's likely because she is still learning how to swallow and wants to protect her airway so she has figured out how to stop the threat. Or at least take a break from it, since we are working with her very closely so that she takes the amount of milk she is supposed to. We really want to get out of here. Unfortunately, the nurse relayed to me earlier that the doctor told her we aren't getting out of here tomorrow, which is what my personal goal was, but it should be by the end of the weekend. Of course, we are on Hospital Time, which could mean we go home on Monday or we could go home this afternoon, depending on what the doctor says. (Monday is more likely than this afternoon.)
Now that Ivy has got no strings, I've been feeling much better. That's only part of it though: Cory has been absolutely amazing. He has done so many of the feedings, saving me from the frustration of the volume of milk she has to take and doesn't want to. He has encouraged me to take a ton of naps, and focus on pumping, which was a huge help yesterday and has made me feel much better today. I took a postpartum depression screening test yesterday (based on how I felt in the last week) and scored an 11, and the threshold is 10, but they told me it was just because of being in the NICU and I shouldn't be worried about it. And indeed, as each tube has come out and we come that much closer to leaving, more weight is being lifted off my shoulders. I sometimes look at her little info board on the wall and see how she will be two weeks old tomorrow, and it makes me so sad that she hasn't even been home yet and our leave time is being eaten up by living in a hospital - but I can't dwell on that. Eyes on the prize, and all that.