First day at school

More exciting things happened to Peter today.  First, a piece of him fell off!  This morning the large scab over his tummy button was nowhere to be seen.  I mentioned to the nurse how much better this made him look.  "Oh yes," she said, "do you want to keep it?" as she offered me something that resembled a dark piece of dried snot.  The concentration needed not to vomit and pass out meant I could only manage a meek "No, thank you," instead of what I wanted to say.  It was binned.

Then the physiotherapy students arrived.  They don't have many opportunities to observe premature babies breastfeeding and we presented an excellent opportunity.  Hannah assumed the position as a crowd gathered to watch from all angles.

Peter was, as usual, sleeping, but did rouse when the giant nipple was again pressed against his tiny face.  We're going to keep therapists in business for years after what we've put him through.  He's also constantly moving his fingers - grabbing, scratching, clutching - he's either going to be a concert pianist or a pickpocket.  Unfortunately, when trying to get a boob and a fist into his mouth at the same time, he only makes problems.

"Come on, Pete," I coached.  "Suck!" All cleverly disguised by pretending to cough at the same time, but the students were fast losing interest and shame was descending on our young family.  Even though I was on the wrong side I desperately stepped in to swaddle the baby, hoping to take his flailing digits out of the equation, willing him to show how he's the cleverest/cutest/alertest/
friendliest premie ever seen on the ward.

"That's an impressive swaddle from upside-down," said one attendee in the universal patronising tone of the student.  She looked all of 12.  "You're not too old to be swaddled yourself," I thought, but luckily remembered what Hannah taught me about only using my inside voice.

And what do you know?  Snug as a bug in a rug thanks to his father, Peter started suckling with the best of them.  Various technical words like "nutritive" were thrown around.  "It's as though he's a different baby!" commented the course instructor, who had earlier voiced skepticism about binding him up, because "they use their hands to locate the breast."  Each one is twice as big as him!  I don't think location is the issue.

With honour and dignity restored to the family the instructor asked if she could return tomorrow with a second lot of students.  I may start charging an entrance fee.  But everyone left today having learnt an important lesson: daddy knows best.

Hannah gets them out for the lads.  And ladies.

Help!  The smothering nipple!  It haunts my dreams!