- How easy our pre-departure "rooming in" was. Grammy Carol stayed overnight with Logan as Larry and I took off for the hospital at about 8 PM to spend the night in one of the family rooms with Oliver. We were nervous but somehow managed to sleep a few hours each, and Oliver did really well. Truth is, it was way less stressful than the first night with Logan (in a regular hospital room), during which we realized (well, confirmed) we had no idea what we were doing.
- The sad feeling of our rooming in across the hall from the other family room, in which we had spent our last hours in private with Avery. Did they deliberately give us a different room? I don't see how they could have remembered. And yet, as with a lot of things related to Oliver, on that last NICU night it felt to me like Avery was with us. He was definitely with us.
- Our anticlimatic, in a good way, final visit with Dr. D. He was the first neonate we met, on the night we came in with two 28-week-olds trying to kick their way out, and I was really glad he was on duty to check us out. Although Oliver was on oxygen, a huge source of anxiety, our checkout was nondramatic and really fast. He said, "He's good. Treat him like a regular newborn." I privately thought, "Oh, sure, a regular newborn with a giant tank being wheeled behind him and tubing attached to his face." But as with most things, Dr. D turned out to be right.
- Our drive home, in which the oxygen tank toppled over and hit its stand with a "clang!" and almost drove me over the edge.
And of course, this: Logan Alexander meets his baby brother.
Happy coming home day, Oliver. Couldn't love you more.
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