Avery was moved out of the PICU yesterday evening and has since taken up residence on the second floor of the hospital. It is a much nicer, more spacious room than her dwelling in the PICU and I am positive that Lynnette was all heart-eyes emoji when she stepped into the new room for the first time, saw the bathroom with shower, and didn’t bump into a chair or IV stand. You have to remember that “roughing it” for Lynnette is the Holiday Inn.
At 8:30 last night when Avery got fussy. Her nurse was checking her vitals and Avery didn’t approve of being roused from her sleep. The nurse handed her off to me and I plopped myself down in the rocking chair. I rocked her in the chair for 30 minutes. She held eye contact with me. I talked to her, sang to her, asked her questions. Her facial expression never seemed to change much. She yawned twice, then unleashed a huge one right before closing her eyes and falling asleep. Under normal circumstances, I would not have moved because of the fear that the tiniest movement would wake Avery and send her off into one of her already legendary clingy fits. But last night as I sat in that chair with Avery bundled blankets – like she was the day she was born – it occurred to me that this was the first time in nearly four weeks (today is four!) that I had any meaningful interaction with her while she was awake. So I continued to rock for a while, until I started to doze off.
I’m staying at the hospital so there’s someone around to comfort Avery if she gets agitated. Well, she was fine last night, except for when they had to suction her. She hated that. But she slept so soundly that as I flipped around on the stiff pull-out bed I had to smirk at the irony, even though I was half-asleep. I had been concerned that she would wake me up repeatedly overnight. It turned out that she’s the one who might get tired of having a roommate because one of these nights I’m positive I’m going to wake her up with my snoring.