Night Blossom

Last summer, our dog Oakley died. Even though Jack originally wasn't agog about pets when we started dating, Annie Oakley quickly won him over once he moved to Newport and she became his as much as mine.

He must have similar hesitations or disconnected feelings about parenthood. Finding out he is a father by phone must have been a peculiar experience, that continues as I send emails and pictures of our little creation each day.

Yet, I'm certain that as much as he thinks he loves and cares about her now while he's in Afghanistan, it won't compare to how it will feel once he holds her in his own arms (especially since she doesn't have nearly as much fur as did Oakley).

We had a tough time coming up with a name for our new dog, so you can imagine how we bantered about for a name that wouldn't send a kid to lifelong therapy. Luckily, about a week or two before she surprised us with her early birth, we settled on two names. "Finnegan" was the name if it was a boy, and "Madeline Quinn" if -- as predicted -- it was a girl. (As much as I still would like to name a kid Finnegan, that's just too much "inn" for one family.)

As it turns out, the nickname "Quinn" covers her paternal heritage. We knew it was an Irish alias, but we had no idea it was also Vietnamese. This was a discovery I made at the NICU when I met a nurse who is from Vietnam with the same name, but spelled "Quynh." Upon googling the name, I found its sweet meaning: "Night Blossoming Flower" -- (thank goodness it doesn't mean something like "Little Child of Horrors!").

Despite her incremental growth, there are (and will be) spurts of growth and change when our little budding girl seems more like a weed.

Over the weekend she had some nice developments as she was taken off oxygen (yahoo!) -- and has done superbly, and is really getting the hang of breast-feeding. She is still on penguin food, but allowed to keep whatever breastmilk she takes directly from me.

Last night, she again had some blood in her stool, however it wasn't anything like what we'd seen before, and somehow that makes me feel less concerned. An x-ray verified that it doesn't appear to be nec; and I am waiting to discuss with her doctor what other causes could be the culprit of her digestive disposition (such as lactose intolerance, a virus, or something in my diet).

And true to her name, this little flower is taking the requisite time to burgeon and bloom. As I gaze at her steady growth, I am reminded that the petals of a blossom cannot be forced to open, nor can our little seedling.