The Week At the Hospital – Part 2

Finally the day came.  We were actually going to bring our boy home.  Though we knew there were many challenges ahead, Dennis and I could not have been more excited.  The brand new rear facing car seat was securely fastened into the middle rear seat just as we had been instructed.  We arrived at the hospital very excited to “get on with it” only to find out that there were what seemed like hundreds of forms to sign and thousands of instructions from the doctor and the nurses on what and what not to do once we were home with the baby.  Someone really needs to write an instruction manual.  Our heads were spinning from all the information; most of which was forgotten five minutes after we left.

The ride home was both difficult and probably comical to anyone who could see what was going on in our car.  I made the mistake of riding home in the front passenger seat, while Ben was rear-facing in the back.  This meant I COULDN’T SEE HIM!  Every couple of minutes I would practically stand up in the front seat and lean over to see if he was still alive.  Each time I did this, I saw the same thing; Ben with that serene look on his face, fast asleep.

Once we reached the house there were many pictures, and the introduction to Ben’s best friend for the next six years; our Brittany Spaniel “Brit”.  All of which Ben slept through as if nothing was happening

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As the excitement died, Dennis and I were left to just sit and stare at our sleeping baby, then look at each other as if to say, “now what do we do?  We knew life would be different, but I don’t think new parents really understand how much until it is suddenly thrust upon them.  At least we didn’t…

My feelings at this point :  It’s amazing how even with the facts staring you in the face, it is still so easy to believe that everything is going to turn out normal.  At this point I still believed that something like this could not be happening to us.  “This is the kind of thing that happens to other people.”  I was in severe denial, which may not have been a bad thing.  My denial delayed the depression which would have been a hindrance to getting done the things I needed to get done for my new son.