Waiting, and more waiting

Quinn has been off of narcotics for three days now. I can tell just by watching him. He spends most of his days crying from hunger and pain. It's one of the reasons I've been slow to update this. It's been more difficult to get pictures of him happy and peaceful and find time to type. I'm not comfortable sitting on a computer typing away while he cries, even though standing there watching him seldom seems to make a difference.

Only a few days ago I mentioned that I won't complain about anything. And I would refuse to use this web site for such a thing. Anger has served purpose for me at times in life, but this would not be one of them. So simply to keep things factual, these past three days are the first time throughout his hospitalization that Quinn hasn't impressed the doctors with his progress.
The movement in his digestive system is still too slow to handle milk. The repaired area of his intestine is still swollen, so he's been living off the IV's. His hunger seems endless and a pacifier wetted in sugar water is all we can offer. He is also still very reliant on the pace maker, and the doctor told me yesterday that at this point a permanent one is probable. To install the pacemaker will be another surgical procedure. If his intestinal area doesn't start to heal soon, it will require another operation as well. And to top things off, I just spilled a container of my wifes breast milk all over my jeans. We are still in a waiting period for everything that is healing, and the doctors are letting me know daily of their concerns.

Before he was born I remember wanting to ensure my son learned to self sooth, but at three weeks old he has yet to have someone be able to pick him up when he cries. Holding him is a cautious process of wire management and slow repositioning that sends Quinn into more screams. I remember wanting to teach him that part of life is about playing the hand you're dealt and making the best of it, which will always be true. But for me, the past three weeks have undeniably begged a ton of questions. Selfish ones. I've had to decide now that keeping my head high has never been so important. And I watch my wife do the same. So I continue to thank all of you for your well wishes and prayers. Pray for my son and for my family, but I wouldn't waste time feeling sorry for us. The good times ahead will now be that much better, and there's no replacing the appreciation for life we gain from this.

I'll mention that I have a father who has been step for step in tune with what makes me tick throughout this whole situation. Without me having to offer a hint. And he's as new at this as I am.