Cords and Dogs?
We just got "home" from the hospital with the boys Monday. And by home I mean my mom's house for a couple of days to get our routine down before we head back to our apartment.
Jeremiah is on oxygen for a few weeks until his lungs are strong enough to keep his stats from dropping below 90. So for the time being, we get to lug around his 3 foot tall, behemoth tank everywhere we go. And they tell me I can't lift anything for 6 weeks from my c-section. Riiight...this is obviously some sort of sick joke.
This morning I was tandem nursing the boys and all that that entails, when Jeremiah did "the business" in his diaper. Ryan grabbed Jeremiah to change while Liam could finish getting milk faced. While I was enjoying some quality time with Liam, Ryan moved Jeremiah's tank to the end of the bed, while the cord was long enough to stretch another three feet to the changing table. It didn't take Ryan long to see Jeremiah let the business seep out onto his outfit. This was a level 2 diaper change and it's also where the most complicated process began. Ryan then had to get Jeremiah's onesie off, feed it over Jeremiah's head, string the onesie over the cord, disconnect the cord from the tank, re-feed a new onesie over the cord and back onto Jeremiah. We did this for every blowout, wet through, and spit up for 6 weeks. I hope you are starting to grasp the hatred I had for this oxygen tank.
Ryan was about halfway through this process and had the onesie off of Jeremiah and dangling on the cord stretched across the room, when suddenly we realized we were sharing the room with my parents dog Addy. Addy decided to up and run out of the room while getting caught in Jeremiah's cord, which was still attached to the oxygen tank and Jeremiah! She initially held still until the tank fell, then it was almost game over. Addy started to bolt and, just before the cord almost pulled Jeremiah off the changing table, Ryan (like a cat) grabbed the cord with all his momentum attempting to slow Addy down. Meanwhile, I leaped up, moving faster than I had in 5 or 6 months, boppy pillow still around my waist, and Liam still on the utter, yelling frantically at Addy to STOP! Trembling and just as scared as we were, she stopped and I was able (with Liam in hand) to untangle her before she nearly killed my child. Close call is an understatement.
In hindsight, Ryan should have just had the oxygen tank by his side instead of having the cord stretched across the room. Lesson learned...almost the hard way. I've never been more thankful that I don't have a dog at home.
Jeremiah is on oxygen for a few weeks until his lungs are strong enough to keep his stats from dropping below 90. So for the time being, we get to lug around his 3 foot tall, behemoth tank everywhere we go. And they tell me I can't lift anything for 6 weeks from my c-section. Riiight...this is obviously some sort of sick joke.
This morning I was tandem nursing the boys and all that that entails, when Jeremiah did "the business" in his diaper. Ryan grabbed Jeremiah to change while Liam could finish getting milk faced. While I was enjoying some quality time with Liam, Ryan moved Jeremiah's tank to the end of the bed, while the cord was long enough to stretch another three feet to the changing table. It didn't take Ryan long to see Jeremiah let the business seep out onto his outfit. This was a level 2 diaper change and it's also where the most complicated process began. Ryan then had to get Jeremiah's onesie off, feed it over Jeremiah's head, string the onesie over the cord, disconnect the cord from the tank, re-feed a new onesie over the cord and back onto Jeremiah. We did this for every blowout, wet through, and spit up for 6 weeks. I hope you are starting to grasp the hatred I had for this oxygen tank.
Ryan was about halfway through this process and had the onesie off of Jeremiah and dangling on the cord stretched across the room, when suddenly we realized we were sharing the room with my parents dog Addy. Addy decided to up and run out of the room while getting caught in Jeremiah's cord, which was still attached to the oxygen tank and Jeremiah! She initially held still until the tank fell, then it was almost game over. Addy started to bolt and, just before the cord almost pulled Jeremiah off the changing table, Ryan (like a cat) grabbed the cord with all his momentum attempting to slow Addy down. Meanwhile, I leaped up, moving faster than I had in 5 or 6 months, boppy pillow still around my waist, and Liam still on the utter, yelling frantically at Addy to STOP! Trembling and just as scared as we were, she stopped and I was able (with Liam in hand) to untangle her before she nearly killed my child. Close call is an understatement.
In hindsight, Ryan should have just had the oxygen tank by his side instead of having the cord stretched across the room. Lesson learned...almost the hard way. I've never been more thankful that I don't have a dog at home.
Copyright 2012 ->Renee Sunberg
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