After about an hour or so of private time in the delivery room you get moved to the postpartum ward. The ward is made up of 6, 6 bed units (36 beds). Each family gets a private area which is curtained off, but you are definitely in a group environment. My little section had the added benefit of being right in front of the nurses’ station, which basically meant that I got to listen to them bicker and complain about the doctors all night! The first night there were 3 or 4 new moms and babies, and we were settled in by 2am or so. At that point they make the dads go home. I desperately wanted Michael to stay, especially because at that point Zev was still breathing at about 70 breaths per minute, and they kept telling me it was only a matter of time before he would have to go to the NICU. I think Michael wanted to stay too, but it was also good for him to go home so he could call everyone and share the good news that Zev was finally here.
The nurse placed Zev in a plastic tub next to my bed, and told me it was best to let him be on his own (versus holding him), due to the respiratory issue. It felt wrong, but I just laid there, trying to sleep, and holding his little hand. His breath was so shallow and fast – it was like he was completely out of breath. Finally, I thought to myself,”This is stupid, Zev is probably scared and lonely, I’m going to hold him.” I gathered him up, and almost immediately, his breathing went down to 60 breaths per minute. It did keep fluctuating between 50 and 75 for the next day, which is why we ended up having to stay an extra day, but I think Zev just loves to be held and comforted, and giving him what he needed was definitely helpful.
For Zev and me, the rest of the night was quite smooth. I couldn’t sleep however due to a small demon named Ralphie. Ralphie is not a happy baby, and his mom was struggling (unsuccessfully) to calm him. All night. And all day. Ralphie would scream and screech – howling and crying, and his mom would say “Ralphie, Ralphie, Ralphie!” over and over and over again in this horrible high pitched voice. That was it – no singing, no other words of comfort. Just “Ralphie, Ralphie, Ralphie!” I later learned they were struggling with breastfeeding – he wouldn’t latch on and she was getting frustrated, which probably made the baby upset. When we left a full 36 hours+ later, they still hadn’t figured it out, and it was a constant source of annoyance and amusement during our stay.

Morning finally arrived. They brought around porridge and tea on a big cart and also gave us a lunch and dinner menu for the day, from which we could choose whatever we wanted. The food rated a solid 4 out of 10, bland and simple, but hey, hospital food is supposed to suck, right? The baby doctor came around and did a complete check on Zev. His breathing at that check measured about 65, so the doctor said they would make a final decision later, but it seemed likely we would have to stay one more night. Zev also has to go in for a hip ultrasound, due solely to the fact that he is over 9 pounds. Apparently, big babies often have dislocated hip joints. This is very easy to correct if caught early, so we will be going in within 2 weeks to have him looked at.
It seemed like 10am (visiting hours) would never come, but eventually I saw Michael’s tired but smiling face come though the curtain at exactly 9:59. Michael did his first EVER nappy change with great success! The rest of the day was spent relaxing with baby, marveling at our new status as a family.