Homecoming King

It all happened so quickly, its hard to recollect all the details. Last Wednesday one of the doctors in charge of Jerome's recovery popped in and briefly informed Duquesa that barring an unfavorable blood test, Jerome would be going home with us the next day. I suppose we should be grateful they gave us enough warning to bring some clothes for him to wear home.

Jerome's weight had stayed at about 5.7 pounds for a few days once they removed his IV, and this seemed to be all they needed to see to give us a green light. It was such a strange feeling, not at all what we expected. There was no build up, no grand ceremony or band playing as we walked out the doors. It felt more like we were getting away with something sneaky. If it were cold and I were wearing a coat, I may have slipped him under it as we passed by the guards at the front gate. As it were, the weather was typically gorgeous and instead Jerome was smuggled out of the hospital in a baby-carrying sling. Such devices are only employed here by gypsies, and we got plenty of looks from the Italians. We probably could have made a few euros if we had just sat on the sidewalk, put a cup out in front of Duquesa as she nursed Jerome, and made horrible faces at people as they walked by. If that's not funny to you, you haven't been to Rome.

Jerome has been fulfilling his infant duties since then, filling diapers with baby poo paste and keeping his parents up all night. That is, in case you were wondering, why I am writing this blog entry a full five calendar days after we brought him home. As far as I'm concerned, its the same darn day because we haven't gone to bed yet! ;-) But we wouldn't have it any other way. Our lives have been so enriched and priceless moments abound. Sometimes I have this feeling of love that is so overwhelming that I need to disengage from it for fear that I might squeeze him too hard. Its difficult to put these sorts of things into words, especially when caffeine is all that keeps you awake.

We are just learning the baby-parent dance, and Jerome is feeling us out as well. Duquesa notes that for the first day or so of being home he would fight off sleep for quite a long time, following us with his eyes just cracked open as though he was afraid that we would leave him again once he fell asleep as we had to do every night in the hospital. He still looks around intently at his new surroundings with wide eyes, craning his neck atop his perch on one of our shoulders. He fills our apartment with little mighty mouse squeaks and sighs, and the sound of his breathing is more captivating than Michelangelo's Pieta. He is still so tiny, under six pounds. Part of me wants him to stay this small forever, but I think I'll let him grow up so we can talk about how great it is when the Vikings beat the Cowboys.

Rachelle has been wonderful in helping us however she can, and she is now fully enrolled at the Angelicum and enjoying her classes. She can order her own train tickets in Italian, and I even taught her how to say to any pesky Italian boys, "Get lost. My brother is huge, and he will gladly spill your lasagna all over Rome." That should serve to effectively bewilder and scare them away. I had better wrap this up before my sleep deprivation produces any material not worthy of this prestigious blog.

We are so, so grateful for all your support and prayers. As so many of you had your families, schools, parishes or other organizations praying for Jerome, please pass along our good news and gratitude to them. We will be saying very special prayers of thanks, asking that all available graces and blessings be given to everyone who prayed our little boy through this trial at the outset of his life. Good Night!