The Kangaroo

It is now 44 hours since our little ones were born, and one experience has quickly become our favorite: The Kangaroo. A baby is removed from his or her isolette and placed on Mom or Dad's bare chest as the parent lies back in a recliner, and there, for an hour or more at a time, we get to hold our child next to us, to feel them breathe with our breathes, to feel their hands and feet push and press against us, to watch with amazement as we say their names and they open their eyes to find where that voice is coming from. We will be doing as much of this as makes sense and is possible over the coming weeks, and the NICU nurses tell us it is good for all, especially the babies who benefit from the natural warmth.

Each baby is in its own isolette now, and inside there, able to sleep and stretch and reach snuggly within a cozy shell of blankets on all sides. We visit them as often as we like to watch them, touch them, see what the nurses do to care for them, and of course to Kangaroo.

Momma is slowly recovering from the duress and after-pain of the C-section, babies are doing great, and both parents are running on fumes and loving it. Rory and Danni have isolettes opposite of one another in the NICU, and at the other end of the room (about 25 feet away) is Leo. Positions are assigned based on which NICU nurses have openings in their areas as babies are born. Each nurse has 2 to 3 infants each to watch over, and thus far we have been impressed by the attentiveness and even affection that the NICU nurses all seem to have for their charges. Who can blame them?