I look at my son in the Bilibed as tears fill my eyes. The eerie blue light seems to swallow him up, my lip starts to tremble uncontrollably—I now know where he gets that. He looks around, unaffected by his situation. He's so little, so new—only a week old and already so strong. He doesn't know anythings wrong. He's just looking at the pretty light.
And I worried about not being able to love a boy. I've been peed on 3 times today. He doesn't have the ability to love yet. . . I know that. Cognitive thought like that doesn't come in for months. He wouldn't know if I got hurt, can't feel empathy for me, wouldn't care if I were sick. Love is a one way street with a baby this small. . . but I love him anyway. One week and I'm hooked.
Jaundice isn't life threatening, it's normally completely harmless, but still to see him laying on that machine. . . a week from now it won't hurt, a week from now he'll be back in his old bed, a week from now he won't be sick. . . but he is now. And life threatening or not he's not right and I can't do anything about it.
His mom will be back in the room soon, time to stop. Back to laughing and playing, we'll both be tough for her.
3 days ago