When Don and I moved into our apartment in Vancouver’s West End, we were immediately taken by the homeless in the back alley and the constant transient traffic we’d see out our living room window. Over the years, we’ve come to dub this spectacle outside our window Bum TV, as it’s often much more entertaining than anything we can get on cable.
Now that we spend hours just watching Nyana in her solarium—new word, by the way. I’m not referring to her isolette as an incubator ever again. It’s her solarium, and she loves it—now that we sit mesmerized for hours just watching her sleep, we’ve started calling those hours Nyana TV. And she’s the best channel on right now, as I’m sure I’ve mentioned.
I love moments when I get to just pull up a chair and watch her sleep. It’s like extreme people watching. I stare at her in all her tininess and wonder what greatness she’s going to grow into. Will she get her Dad’s green eyes? Will she be feisty and stubborn like her Mum? Will she be the one brilliant soul who finally finds a cure for all the stupid in this world?
She looks good today; the nurses have her on her back and she looks content as she sleeps. Her feeds have been upped to 6ccs every two hours and unlike the last time they upped her feeds, her stomach seems to be tolerating this increase. A brain scan earlier this week came back negative for bleeding on the brain. By all accounts and purposes, my little angel needs to do nothing but lie there and grow. Of course, I know it won’t be so simple—there will be setbacks in typical NICU fashion—but I’m finding comfort and bliss in my ignorance. When I was in hospital and facing the unknown, I didn’t allow myself to get scared until they actually told me it was time to push. I’m not going to let myself get scared about her progress until they give me reason to. And right now, she’s not shown me a single thing to worry about.
I don’t ever want to change this channel.