'Twas the Night After Discharge

I was going through some old files today and found this and I had to share. I wrote this in December of 2008 right after Dax came home and completely forgot about it. Tonight I have laughed and remembered!

THE NIGHT AFTER DISCHARGE

'Twas the night after discharge, and all through the house

Not a creature was sleeping, except for my spouse;

The supplies were scattered all over the floor,

And we had already made five trips to the store.

Our preemie is tucked warm and snug in his bed,

With cereal and bananas still caked to his head.

He had Viagra at 2 and Lasix at 4,

So I attempt to take a shower before he’ll need more.

When from my son’s room there arose such a blaring,

I ran from the bathroom, completely naked and swearing.

His O2 sat monitor is alarming like mad,

But I find he’s just sweat through the only Posey he had.

I finally secure his foot in a fancy new way

With some great tape we lifted from the hospital that day.

I see it’s now time for his next round of meds,

And he’s due for his suctioning to clear out his head.

And let's not forget that upcoming fight

We have to have over the Pulmicort each night.

A quick change of the clothes from the Great Flood of Lasix

And some new sheets, too, since he’d covered his basics.

We return the all the phone calls from worried well-wishers

Wanting to check on our guy... And see homecoming pictures!

“Hi Dad!” “Hi Preacher!” “Hi Friend!” “Hi Mother!”

“Hi Grandma!” “Hi Uncle!” “Hi Aunt!” “Hi Brother!”

“We’re all doing great, and Baby is sleeping.

Oh wait, I must go! The apnea monitor is beeping!”

I fix his tiny cannula for the 900th time

With 17 pieces of tape from his blue nose to his spine.

I hook him up to his overnight continuous feed

And go sit for a moment for some rest that I need.

I check him once more before I lie down in bed

And find him covered in formula from his feet to his head.

Instead of him resting while his calories are fed

His food pours out through the $&%# open med port, instead.

So I clean him and his sheets and retape him once more

And snuggle again with this puny boy I adore.

I check all the equipment and I say one more prayer,

And I sneak a quick sniff of his formula-flavored hair.

I say to myself as I walk out of sight,

“Thank God he is home, but I need Xanax tonight!”

By: Daxton's mom