Almost There

When I came in this morning, the flow-pap was gone. After bath this morning, my baby girl’s cheeks are kissable again– IOW, not covered with tape and second skin and tubing. She has figured out that if she fingers her IV tubes and starts tugging, Mommy will pay lots of attention to her. Yee-haw. (Remember that this is no ordinary IV; it’s in the jugular vein!)

However, they’ve slowed the weaning of the blood pressure meds to every 12 hours, so now it’s mid-afternoon tomorrow before she’ll be off all her meds, and sometime after that before we get to leave the ICU. But Christian’s boss is back and gave him tomorrow and Friday off, so that will ease the stress. As does Meghan, our respite provider, who is sitting with Julianna outside of her finals schedule. And tomorrow night Christian and I are going out on a date.

It seems horrible to me to do such a thing. I think of my parents, who virtually never went out on dates, and I keep fearing that we will be judged for abandoning our children in a time of need. And yet the spousal relationship is first in the family–the origin of the children and thus, the most important. The transition period, caring for three while juggling everyday life, had already left us hanging on to connection by a thread. We expected the transition to be tough, and we had been living with our nose to the grindstone, barreling through as best we could and waiting for the craziness to settle into routine. It was starting to happen, too…and then Julianna went into the hospital.

Since then, what little conversation we’ve had has been logistics and progress reports; touch is nearly nonexistent, in any form. For a time, a marriage can handle that without negative effects, but for us, at least, that time is now past. So we’re going out, despite my uncomfortable sense that couples have survived far worse without thinking they have to go out on dates. Oh well. Count it as another blessing and get on with it already, Kate. Sheesh.