Over It

Mirabel's IV is in her scalp today. I'm over it. I want my baby home so I can do some natural mothering and hold her when I want to and when she needs it and I want to nurse on demand and smell her. I'm sick of the medicinal surroundings and driving back and forth and only seeing her twice a day and the same view of the brown and gray world outside and the beeps and pings and warnings and bells and the fact that my 8 day old baby girl has three wires on her chest, a feeding tube down her nose, oxygen pumping through a nasal canula, a saturation monitor on her foot and a FUCKING IV IN HER INSERTED INTO HER HEAD. I don't want Mirabel's threads to the angel world to be cut off by the plastic walls of her isolet. I want my sweet and confused little 2 1/2 year old to meet her sister and hold her and rock her and sing to her like we've been excitedly planning with her for the past several months. She can't even visit her in the isolation of the NICU, can't even see her. I'm sick of missing Luciya when she wakes up in the morning because I'm already en route to the hospital. I don't get to help her get dressed or put on her clothes or drive her to preschool. I want Mirabel to thrive and I want her home NOW.