There had been whispers for days from doctors and nurses that Saturday we would get to take Jonas home for the first time. He'd been improving rapidly every day, and we'd hear "that puts you one step closer to the door". We watched an infant CPR video in preparation to take him home. We began slowly packing our belongings both at Devonshire and in our hospital room, and waited for the final word that would come when the doctors made their daily rounds.
When we received the good news that we could finally take our baby home, we were so excited! Finally, the day we'd been waiting so long for. We received instructions on all of the medicines we had to administer, and packed up a pulse oximeter to monitor the level of oxygen in his blood. We were also sent home with a baby scale to keep track of his weight.
We dressed Jonas in his going home outfit, packed him in his carseat, and headed for the door. As we pushed his stroller through the main entrance of MCH, I cried tears of joy. I turned to Kris, and quipped with him that we'd better get going fast, before anyone changed their minds and decided to make him stay longer!
On the ride home from the hospital, sleeping soundly.
We arrived to a big welcome home sign, balloons, streamers, and a sigh of relief.
In the days and weeks that followed, I never complained about having to wake up with him in the middle of the night. I was so happy, so completely blissful that he was home, that it didn't phase me one bit. Kris and I fell into the groove without much effort, like we'd been doing it all along.