The Fetal Position, Not just for Preemies...

Mendy enjoys her new bed, cold as usual. The girls new crib, also known as cell block C.

Renna napping away.

Reagan, not napping, as usual.

I'll preface this post by saying that this is Adam, and while I may not be as funny and cheerful as my lovely wife, I do have a few minutes to post on our blog to keep everyone updated. I got some exciting and scary news yesterday while at work. Mendy called and told me that Reagan took her entire bottle in one feeding, then she told me that the doctors wanted to move us out of the NICU and up to our own room in the pediatric ward. My first statement was "Wow, are you sure there ready? That's pretty scary!". So while I like to think of myself as the risk taker in our little family, I have learned that when it comes to my little girls, I'm already the overprotective Dad I swore I wouldn't be. So yesterday around noon they moved the girls to our own room and we get to take care of their diapering, feeding, and the monitoring of their breathing and slowed heart rate episodes. Needless to say we are getting about 3 hours of sleep a night, and walk around like zombies most of the waking hours. One of us has to be with the girls 24-7, so we have employed both of our mothers to help us out. We are so thankful that both of our moms have been able to help out, we can't thank them enough. Their help has allowed us to take a few cat naps during the day to catch up on our sleep. The girls have been doing OK since we moved. They do of course realize we are amatuers at intensive care babies, and have decided as most children will, to test their parents in every way possible. We love being able to be with them as much as possible, but I must say when that alarm goes off at 4 AM that says one of them has stopped breathing, we both almost jump out of our skin. Then when it goes off again at 4:17AM our hearts jump out of our chest. Then when it goes off at 8:00 AM, both of our stomachs turn over. Needless to say, when this is all said and done were are going to crawl into the fetal position and suck our thumbs every time we go through the line at Walmart and suffer the constant beeps as they scan our groceries. That being said, we love being with our little girls and can't wait till we can get them home. Renna has been taking all of her feedings by bottle, but still has to have some supplemental oxygen. She is at the lowest possible setting for oxygen supplementation, which is called "whiffs" by the nurses here. Reagan required a blood transfusion yesterday (her third), but is still not requiring any oxygen. She does not seem the least bit interested in taking her meals by bottle. She enjoys having her feedings through a tube in her nose, thank you very much, and will not suffer the lowly task of sucking milk out of a rubbery nipple. So while one daughter needs "nose candy" and the other is hooked on O2, we carry on. We appreciate every one's thoughts and prayers, and really look forward to getting our girls home.