Father Knows Less

I've turned a bit of a corner in my fathering.

I'm a relatively laid back guy, and things don't phase me easily:
Evening plans were cancelled? Whatever, we'll find something else to do.
I missed my train? Meh, another one will come along shortly.
I lost my iPod? Oh well, someone is going to have a good day when they find it.

Both Marlena and I figured this would translate into my parenting style (Adora is eating dirt? I'm pretty sure there're vitamins in soil), although something happened the other night that made me question that.

The kids have been hooked up to monitors night and day since they were born: Heart rate, Breaths-per-minute, Oxygen levels, the whole shebang. The wires are a little obnoxious, but it's comforting to be able to look up at the computer screen and see how well they're doing.

Lately, Marlena & I have been trying to hold the twins as they're being fed through their feeding tubes to get them used to it once they are able to start nursing normally. We'd just bathed them, so this was the first time we'd seen them entirely unhooked from their computers.

The Super Bowl was on, so we sat so we could both see the our laptop set up on a nearby couch. I was holding Adam, and it looked like his feeding tube had been pulled out a centimeter or so (he's gotten really good at pulling out his feeding tube, so we have to be a little mindful of that). I could see it was still 18cm deep, so I wasn't too concerned. It also helped that I was distracted by the game.

I don't know about you, but I've always wondered what happens at the bottom of dog piles.

The nurse left, we were still unhooked, but unconcerned. A few minutes later, the laptop started running out of battery. No worries, I reached over and plugged it into a nearby socket.

I'd jostled Adam a little bit when I moved so I was repositioning him, and I noticed the feeding tube had pulled out another 4cm. These kids are small, so I figure pulling a tube 2 inches out of their stomach might have dire consequences. Adam was unperturbed by the tube's movement, but to my uneducated eyes he was *too* quiet.

So there I was, with a number of issues compounding in my mind:
* The nurse wasn't in the room
* Adam wasn't hooked up to any monitors
* The nurse station would have no way of knowing if we were in trouble
* Our door out to the hallway is closed
* Adam is still hooked up to the feeding pump, so I couldn't go into the hallway to find a nurse anyways.
* Why isn't the nurse in the room?
* What happens if the feeding tube leaves his stomach?
* Is he breathing alright?
* Who leaves a new parent alone with kids who aren't on monitors?
* The laptop is in sleep-mode, so I can't distract myself with the Super Bowl...
* For the love of God, where is the nurse!? DOESN'T SHE KNOW I HAVE NO IDEA WHAT I'M DOING?

My rational mind told me that 4cms is less than 2 inches, so any milk would still being going to his stomach, but in my newly awakened "freakout mind" Adam's little esophagus was filling with milk, and it would start spilling out of his mouth at any moment. I kept my hand on his little chest to make sure he wasn't choking to death on milk.

A 100% accurate depiction of how I felt

This went on for 20 minutes.

Eventually our nurse returned, and I managed to not act like an anxious puddle on the floor.

Everything was fine. We got the tube moved back where it belonged. It was an eye-opening moment of how attached I'd gotten to the little buggers.

Next time I'll handle it better, probably just whimper and soil myself. It seems to work well for the twins.