Since then...

The rest of the day and night were spent in a medically enhanced baby hormone high. I just couldn't get enough of the little fella. I loved staring into his face and seeing myself as a baby looking back at me. He was obviously adorable and I proudly declared that I won the dominant gene war numerous times. All the rest of the kids on Matt's side of the family really have a similar look. Not this one! He was mine - we made this! He had Matt's ears, long fingers and toes. A soft crown of strawberry blond hair and bowed lips came straight from my people, though.

All he did was sleep and look adorable. It was great. I knew that I should take advantage of the nurses while I was in the hospital and get a good night's sleep - I was going on practically nothing at this point, but I couldn't stop watching him. I loved cradling him, too - just a little ball of love. Deep into the night I whispered stories to him about my dad and Matt's. The poor little guy is short on grandpas. I softly sang him songs and drank in his lusciousness. I never cared about sleep again and the idea of breastfeeding was as magical as pixie dust and dandelion wishes. Everything was going to be wonderful.

Of course, as the days wore on the reality of the situation slowly started to sink in. Plus, they were backing off the amount of medication that I was allowed to take and the hormones were wearing off. 48 hours later I was cradling him and sobbing uncontrollably because he was dehydrated and that obviously meant I was a useless excuse of a mother. The breast pump the nurse brought in to help me out didn't do anything from my dignity, either. Of all the embarrassing, ridiculous things - this experience was right up there with the diaper they wanted me to wear immediately following surgery. I had the door to my room open and saw another new mother roaming the halls. She looked better in the maternity gown than I did and this prompted a new stream of tears.

Not helping matters was the fact that Matt was slowly going down. The rash that I had teased him about had not gotten any better, nor had his back pain that had been plaguing him for months. He would lie on the floor of the hospital room and moan while trying desperately to find relief. Finally, by Friday when I was set to be released I goaded him into going to urgent care. First, though, we had to get us all home.

It took an eternity to get released, but finally we were on our way. A volunteer with the hospital wheeled Vince and me out trailed by my mom and Matt. I stuck the baby on my boob and covered us with a receiving blanket - just one of the many items we liberated from the hospital. I was taken to the far side of the building and parked in what felt like luggage claim for the broken people. I was pulled up next to a woman in a neck brace while Matt and Mom went to the pharmacy to get my prescriptions.

"New baby?" the woman asked.

"Oh, yeah - Tuesday," I replied not making eye contact. It had been over 6 hours since I'd been told that I'd eventually be released. Between that and Matt's constant, unbearable pain, I didn't feel like making any new friends.

"Can I see him?"

"Oh, not right now... He's feeding." Now, you'd think that would be sufficient, but my hand to God, before I could stop her she reached over and lifted up the blanket baring boob and all to the entire world - mostly just to the room full of aged men and cotton haired ladies, but still!

"He's beautiful." Of course he is. All new babies are... Well, most are. "Don't worry - I'm a nurse. I've seen it all before!" What the? It was hardly her discomfort that I was thinking of. I mustered a smile and got up and left. I'll be damned if I have to now make pleasantries with this boundary lacking person.

I parked myself outside the room and was approached by another well meaning woman. Although, she was just lovely, I was out of energy. The minute I saw my car pull into the parking ramp, I bolted. We had to wait a bit longer for the medication, but finally we were released.

We all made it home and then Matt was off to urgent care to figure out what the hell was wrong with him. Mom and my sister Julie helped get me settled and then decided to run to Target for some essentials. I was enjoying my first moments at home with my boy when Matt called. The relief in his voice was palpable. "I've got Shingles!"

"What?"

"Shingles! I thought that was like some old person disease or something - like gout or scurvy." He was so relieved to finally have a diagnosis.

"Is it contagious? What about the baby? Did you tell them you have a newborn at home?"

"The doctor didn't seem concerns. As long as we don't rub him on the rash, I think he'll be fine."

Not wanting to take his word for it, I called our Nurse Line through the insurance company. I'll spare you the full story, but somehow this woman I spoke to was confused because she basically told me that Matt had the plague and the baby had already been exposed. Chances were he was going to get very, very sick and there was nothing - nothing anybody could do about it (she kept repeating that part.)

I panicked. I called Matt and told him he couldn't come home. He needed to be quarantined. I called my mom and bawled while chucking all of our clothes and sheets into the basement to be washed and sterilized. Then I was swabbing every surface in the house with rubbing alcohol. I've never been a germophobe, but I full on freaked out until a nurse from the hospital called and talked me down.

Since then, I've talked to Vin's pediatrician and the baby was never, ever in any danger. That "nurse" on the hotline should be shot.

So, that was my first brush with mother freak out. Good to get that out of the way.

Since then, we've been just trying to figure it all out and get it settled. I think he might have a little acid reflux because he's a teeny bit wheezy and one of the baby books said that's common. Again, his wonderful doctor couldn't be less concerned about it - so I'm going to follow her lead.

He seems to be a wonderful (and did I mention adorable?) happy little baby. The teeny milestones are just starting. He's really strong and can lift his head up for what I think are long periods of time. Yesterday he said, "Ah - GOO!" for the first time - it was the first time that he verbalized any sound. Everything up until now had been sucking or crying. Or grunting. Man, can this kid poop.

On the one hand, I can't imagine having to go back to work and not see him for 10 hours at a time (and how I'm going to feed him I don't know - anyone want to loan me a spare $300 for a breast pump? Those things are ridiculously expensive.) On the other, I miss adults. I miss my job. I like my job - and the place I work at. The agency is great and I think I probably have the best boss ever. So, I guess I'm going through the same feelings that most working mom's probably have to deal with.

I don't know what's coming next, or how we're going to deal with it. The post script on the Shingles is that it lasts forever. Well, it seems like forever. Here we are 3 1/2 weeks later and Matt's still experiencing a lot of pain because of it. The poor guy has been in pain constantly since there was still snow on the ground. I can't even imagine what he's been going through.

Although, it helps that he's got this little face to look at when things get rough. I know we're going to figure it out.