our Portland week, Part II - the NICU

For the actual story of Bennett's time in the NICU, see Rachel's blog. Meanwhile, here are some pictures.

matching poses - Uncle Dave and Bennett David

When Bennett was a day old and still at home, Dave texted, wondering what was going on. He was miserable about having to work. I said something like, "The usual. People are nursing babies. Zoralee is running around. Bennett is polishing up on his tight-rope walking." Well, the next day, we found ourselves in the NICU, and the curtains around B's bed had a circus theme and included this tight-rope walker. So, we thought that was something fun. Just keeping the babies inspired, I guess.

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This is a memorial garden at the hospital where we sometimes lounged between our bedside moments. There are plaques and memorializing artwork everywhere for people who have died. We watched cancer patients and other sick people slowly make their way down paths through beautiful exotic plants and flowers. We waited in limbo for word on when we could visit our little B, who was surrounded by precarious wee ones, up there on the second level, behind heavy, locked doors. You could only enter if you thoroughly sanitized yourself and swore off perfume. Meanwhile my own child ran through the sunny garden, weaving among the sick, waiving incessantly and hoping for some response to her, "hi! hi! hi! hi!" Then she'd stop to reach for the toes of a cold stone statue. It all felt like we were bridging a quiet, un-nameable gap between death and life, energy and stillness.

Hopefully we get some kind of hospital discount for our lawn-watering efforts. Now, don't judge; by the time we noticed a half nude, squatting child in our periphery, it was pretty much too late. All foliage is fair game to a country bumpkin, poor thing. Thanks, Ma, for the pics.