What a day! So much is going on I’m having trouble sleeping. Seeing my zombie face, Dave told me to take afternoon baby time today so I can work tomorrow and actually be productive. Best. Hubby. Ever.

On my way to the hospital, our caseworker called to tell us our interstate approval was granted – so when Tess is released we can go home without having to wait an extra week. The judge also agreed to see us before we leave, so we won’t need to come back in September to finalize. Woo hoo! Then the hospital decided to loosely move her to stage 3 of the feeding protocol, meaning 6 bottles a day if she looks like she’s in the mood to eat. At noon, she promptly inhaled her bottle, justifying that choice. Here’s hoping she keeps it up! They also lowered her oxygen to 1/4 liter, and she seems to be doing fine on that too.

So she took a bottle, got a bath, got her eye exam, took another bottle – all between noon and 3. She had an audience for all of that, as the nurses love seeing her too. We can share! Unfortunately, they spotted some stage 1 ROP (abnormal preemie eye development issue due to oxygen exposure that usually resolves itself), so she’ll have an appointment next week too. That also means she cant go home on oxygen – which has its pros and cons. Momentum – just not great momentum, which was a great wet blanket on my burning need to go home. The pipe dream of her mastering eating and passing her eye exam, letting us go home TOMORROW, has officially bit the dust.

I’m still excited by the progress because it’s getting harder and harder to be away from her. I know when we’re back at work full-time she’ll be with someone else for 8-9 hours a day, but seeing her for an hour here and an hour there stinks. Those weeks at home, working part-time and getting to spend our non-working hours with her, are beyond dreamy – especially with the house progress! Mom’s seriously working some magic over there.

What I keep finding out, the longer I’m here, is just how many women suffer from infertility and how many babies start out in the NICU. These clubs are so much bigger than they appear from the outside! People keep asking us about our adoption experience, and we’re happy to talk them through it. We’ll never forget what it feels like to make the decision, get through the paperwork/classes/interviews/profile creation/references/clearances/ disrupted matches – and worst of all, the waiting. For all of the other stuff, you have something to do! The waiting feels like eternity. You worry no one will pick you, or someone will pick you and change their mind. Maybe you won’t like the birth mom. Maybe she won’t like you. Maybe the baby won’t like you! The waiting turns sane, intelligent people into absolute basket cases. I’d almost forgotten for a second, and I’m so glad the nurse asking questions reminded me. Adoptive parents may not go through childbirth, but we absolutely experience the catharsis in our own way. The end result is the same: the parental joy blocks out some of the trauma of the delivery!