This week was a big week not only for the babies, but for me too. Dr. Tabor released me to drive. Mind you, I had not driven since May 16th. While I was craving freedom, it was a bit intimating at the same time. Freedom to drive meant that I would not have to bum rides to and from the NICU and I could run errands if I wanted to. I know errands sound less than exciting, but I literally have not done so much as grocery shop since May. The automatic opening doors at Target have been beckoning for such a long time. Not only could I now drive myself to Target, but I would be able to walk freely about the asiles without a power cart. Oh sweet freedom!
Before driving solo, George and I did a test run the evening I was released. We decided I better stick with the Accord since it’s familiar and I’ve barely driven the van. I really haven’t even ridden in the Accord since May either. It felt awkward at first. When I started the car, it seemed really noisy. I inquired whether the engine was okay. George assured me it was. Then it seemed to accelerated slowly, but again George told me it was fine. After a while it began to feel “normal” again. Since Wednesday I’ve gotten back in the groove so you don’t have to worry about me running you off the road or anything.
But wait….I’m not totally free of my shackles just yet. I am now a slave to the Medela Symphony pump. Since delivery day, I have been tethered to that darn piece of equipment every three hours, at 12:00 am, 3:00 am, 6:00 am, 9:00 am, 12:00 pm, 3:00 pm, 6:00 pm, and 9:00 pm. To keep track I have an alarm set on my phone which I now loathe. The buzz of that thing takes me away from snuggles with my babies, a savory meal, a shower, you name it the Medela takes me away. That thing buzzes and I have to answer. If I happen to go out for a drive, I have to return to the loathesome pump before my three hours are over. After a nice little date with good old Medela, I have to wash everything only to begin again. The worst is the nighttime when I am trying to steal away a few minutes of sleep and buzz it goes. One night it sounded at midnight, but I apparently wasn’t jumping into action. George nudged me gently and said, “Babe, you need to go pump.” In a sleepy stupor, I retorted, “YOU PUMP!!!!” Oh goodness…I think I have a love/ hate relationship with my Medela Symphony. I do love that it is helping me nourish the babies, but I really do hate being at it’s mercy. Don’t get me wrong, I know that when the babies are home I won’t be getting much if any sleep and obviously I won’t be getting out to Target either. I’m not totally disillusioned (probably a tad disillusioned though). It just would be nice to enjoy my freedom to drive a bit while the babies are in good hands.
At the same time, when the babies are home they will be there to tell me why the heck I’m up and at least can snuggle for a bit. The Medela is a bit um, mechanical. When my 3:00 am duty calls, I think of my sweet babies and how well they are doing. That makes it all worthwhile. Everyone has grown a good bit. Here are the current weights:
Rylin 3 pounds, 13 ounces (before we know it we will have a four pounder on our hands!)
Harper- 3 pounds, 11 ounces
Sydney- 2 pounds, 12 ounces (come on, Sydney let’s break 3 pounds!)
Mason- 3 pounds, 6 ounces