Unexpectedfatherexpecting: To Hell and Back (Part three)

I got home that Saturday night and all I wanted to do was sleep, so I did, for two hours. My dad had very kindly offered to help clean, and perhaps I should have taken him up on his offer, but he and his wife had done more than enough by that point. I managed to clean most of the carpet and went about disinfecting every conceivable thing I could lay my hands on-a pretty pointless exercise because of my dog Garp who seems to bring in more dirt than I can take out. (he has only one toy, as everything else only lasts a few minutes with his powerful jaws. It's a solid plastic ball with holes in, about the size of a football which gives him endless entertainment. The only problem is that these holes are a perfect receptacle for any dirt, that is then released on freshly cleaned floors.)

I then went off to the hospital to fetch Michelle and the "baby with no name". (I think we wanted to be sure everything was ok before we named him, and we couldn't reach consensus on a name anyway) It was a strange feeling, after such a week of turmoil, to dare to think that everything was going to be alright. It was just such a relief that it was over. I had figured out the car seat which was a lot easier than I thought it would be, and it wouldn't be long before he had his tiny little body resting in it. I packed up all the stuff that was spread around the room and soon we were ready to leave. We thanked the nurses and there was one in particular that I so very much wanted to take home with us. It's one thing handling and feeding a baby when you know there is someone to keep a watchful eye on things, quite another when that reassuring presence is no longer there. We booked out and soon he was in the car on the way home. We still had no crib for him to sleep in (the one in the baby room being far too large) so we managed to procure one from one of Michelle's colleagues. It was exactly the same as the one he had spent his time in hospital in. Someone down the line had not returned it to the hospital it seems, but it was just the right thing for having beside the bed.

Handling a newborn for me was like handling a rare Ming Dynasty vase. What if I do something wrong? It's irreplaceable and so delicate, but I've since realised that increased confidence in such matters comes with time. He was fed, changed, and put to bed. Our beautiful boy, home at last.

The tubes are out, just the tape from the oxygen thing left over his nose.
(I didn't want to be reminded of what he looked like with everything attached, so
this was the first photo I took of him in NICU)