Have Mercy

1/18/10 Several hand-knit baby items, donated; a bunch of car stuff, trashed

The family (with our newest member) has arrived home. The cats aren't quite sure what to make of that new member, but we'll make it work.

Since this is the first night home with our baby, I haven't time to wax poetic on the blog, so I've got to make it brief.

First, I was absolutely blown away by the quality of care we received at Mercy Hospital. I had no idea what a huge role nurses play in the delivery of a child. They basically do 90% of the work and 90% of the educating. During our stay, we interacted with dozens of nurses and I can say, absolutely without exception, that they could no do their jobs any better. While I can't name everyone we interacted with, I must give a shout-out to the nurses who gave us skilled, personalized, compassionate care, often in grueling 12-hour shifts.

We commend:

Sheila
Brenda
Tiffany
Liz
Jackie
Leigh
Brooklee
Ashley
Amanda
Julia
Christina
Carol

As we neared the end of our stay in the hospital today, Carol came in with a basket of knitted hats, sweaters, and blankets. She told me they were hand-made by friends of the hospital and asked me to pick a few to take home. It was no surprise to me that other people care enough about this fine institution to take time making gifts to be given out by it.

After taking some of the clothing, I realized that it didn't really make sense for me to bring home those beautiful items for our son. We already have more than enough clothes for him. I wanted to be respectful of the hospital's gesture, but stay somewhat true to the spirit of this challenge.

While I didn't make close connections with any of the other families who were also at Mercy delivering babies, I crossed paths with enough new dads in the hallway to know that not all of the kids who leave that hospital have such bounty to go home to.

After a bit of thought, I spoke with another of our nurses, Christina, and asked her if I might donate the clothes right back to the hospital with the request that they be given as additional items to a family who might be in greater need. Over our stay, we made about a million requests, and every one was fulfilled carefully and without complaint by the nursing staff. I have absolute faith this one will be, too.

After being discharged, we still had to make our way home, on Maine roads recovering from a surprisingly powerful snow storm that blew through the state this weekend.

As my good friend Jason wrote in an email the day after he heard of our kid's birth, "The first time you put Chase in the car and leave the hospital will be the most nerve racking ride of your life." Indeed! I suddenly realized that just about every other driver out there is a road-raged maniac, hell-bent on running me off the road.

The tension actually began before we got in the car. I've been told -- with great theatrics -- that one of the many ways children are injured in car crashes is by being hit by stuff flying around the inside of the car. Anything in the car that isn't latched down becomes a high-speed, child-seeking scud missile. I actually began the process of de-cluttering my car yesterday, as Joanna visited with her family upstairs in our hospital room. Thus, the picture above (notice the snows hadn't arrived, yet) shows what I determined needed to be trashed.

A quick note before any of you, Dear Readers, protest that throwing a few pieces of car flotsam and jetsam doesn't count as a downsize. Among the items trashed was a "Traveler's Raincoat" that I have had in the glove compartment of every car I've ever owned. My mom must have bought it when I was a little kid, but when her old car became mine, so did the raincoat. I've dutifully held onto it ever since, transferring it to each successive vehicle, always awaiting that day when the rains will open up and it will save me from getting wet as I dash from the car to some important dry-people-only meeting.

Well, twenty-one years of driver-hood later, and that rainy day has never come, so the raincoat has been trashed with the rest. Thank you, Downsizing Challenge, for giving me permission to get rid of that thing.

The trip home was actually uneventful, and we are now ready to tuck ourselves into bed for the night. (Or for fifteen minutes, whichever suits Chase's mood).

Home, sweet home.