D-Day, Pt. II: Checking Out of the Priciest Hotel We've Ever Stayed At

The first couple days after having a baby is one, humongous endurance test - a gauntlet of sleep deprivation and psychological torture.


Sound dramatic?  Shut up.  Hear me out.


The joy and excitement of having a newborn baby on your hands is neutralized almost immediately by the horrifying reality that you have this 6 lb, porcelain-fragile, meat sack that you have to somehow keep alive for the next eighteen years (if the economy doesn't improve in that amount of time, it might be more like twenty six years).

Anyway, we checked out of the hospital yesterday afternoon after suffering through a long, uneventful lounge-session in our post-delivery room.  While hanging out in the posh Dr. Phillip's Baby Place was cool and everything, we were really wanting to get home and relax in our own surroundings.  Nothing against hospital food or twenty minute naps or anything, but settling in at home sounded way sweeter.

Now, before we could go anywhere, the various doctors and nurses had to run a series of tests on the kid.  No surprise there.  Everything came back fine - Abby's got good response time, hearing, reflexes, color, weight (although she's pretty skinny), and vitals.  Her Jaundice level was questionable, but not alarmlingly so.  All in all, everything was good, so the pediatrician was cool with us peacing out a day early and leaving after one day in the hospital.

Anyway, in the afternoon, Adam and Lindsey brought the Cannonball over and she got to meet her little sister.  She didn't have a toddler freak out on her or anything, but she was a little weirded out.  I'm sure this marks the beginning of a real, fun period of adjustment for everybody involved.  Can't wait.

Not sure if you guys realize this or not, but hospitals are the most expensive hotel you will ever stay at.  I think you can rent Mick Jagger or Brad Pitt's private, beach bungalow at a cheaper, daily rate.  For the amount that we're sure to end up paying for our 24-hour stay at Winter Park Memorial Hospital, I'm pretty sure Mick or Brad would be willing to personally wait on you as a butler during your stay in their house.

The Houghs aren't a big fan of bills, so we weren't about to pay for two nights at the hospital.  As good as the food is.  No thanks.

So, after sitting around the majority of the morning and afternoon waiting on this doc and that doc, we were finally able to leave the hospital in the early evening.  After Kris gave me wrong directions home, which resulted in me taking a victory lap around the greater Orlando area by traversing across four, major interstates only to return to my previous location (some 45 minutes later), we finally arrived home as one, collective family unit.

Now begins a full week of sitting around the house, pretty much doing nothing.  While Kris begins nursing, pumping, and otherwise devoting most of her attention and time to boob management, yours truly gets to take care of the house, the Cannonball, and everything else not directly associated with the newborn.  Throw in grad school homework, and you got the makings of one, awesome week off of work.

Booya.


More pics and updates to come, folks - stay tuned.

- Brian