It's nine o'clock in the morning twenty-four hours later.

Sitting down at the computer, I realize I've left my audience in no small amount of suspense, and it's time to update them on what's happening with my daughter, my wife, and my life.

The Winchester Hospital Neuronatal Intensive Care Unit was a much better experience than the atmosphere of panic that prevailed at Martinsburg City Hospital. Lorie and I had to scrub our hands up to our elbows for three minutes before being allowed to enter the ward. Katie was no longer on air or attached to any IV's at all. She was only hooked up to the vital sign monitors and she was sleeping peacefully. We waited for thirty minutes, and then Katie finally woke up for a feeding. It was Lorie's first time seeing her daughter's eyes open. Her first time allowed to actually hold her daughter. The nurses set up a screen so Lorie could breast feed in private. It was the much-needed contact with her baby that Lorie hadn't yet had. There were smiles.

Katie was fine. It wasn't pneumonia, according to the doctor's. It was TTN, which was too much fluid in the lungs. They look the same under x-ray. It all boiled down to the speed of her birth. From the time the doctor had manually broken Lorie's water to the time Katie had been born was less than an hour. Not enough time for labor to fully squeeze Katie's lungs and empty them of fluid. Not enough time for labor to squeeze Katie's head into a better position for Lorie to pass.

Katie was no longer in the ward under watch for the reasons she was admitted. They were monitoring her for a few other things, but she was being treated like a normal newborn baby. Essentially, once admitted to the intensive care ward they had to be one hundred percent sure of everything before releasing her, but there was no real reason for her to be here. In fact, I felt rather selfish because of our presence.

I scanned the room. There were twelve to sixteen beds of babies in various stages of care. Only sixteen beds of intensive care capability for an area that included Winchester, Charles Town, Martinsburg, and many other areas. One of the babies near Katie was premature. I think most of the babies in the ward were premature. But this baby was literally smaller than my hand. About as long as the center of my palm to the tip of my middle finger. In one of the beds were two twins, way too small to be out of the womb. Some of the babies were in plastic box containers and the nurses administered care through plastic portals. Mothers were there visiting their infants. Some were breast-feeding, some were just holding. Some had to look at their children through a plastic window. Their only contact was small touches on the back or leg. Almost all of the babies had several wires and IV's attached to them.

Katie had no reason to keep this bed from another baby who needed it more. I took a moment to thank God for our relatively small problems, and offer prayers for the other infants present.

The nurse came to us and explained that we had to leave for about an hour for the shift change. Lorie and I agreed to go get some dinner and come back later. We shared our first normal moment over some iced tea and dinner at the local Ground Round. We went back to the hospital about an hour later. I stayed in the parking lot talking to a friend on the phone while Lorie went on ahead of me.

A few minutes later, I finished my conversation and went ahead to the NICU. Entering the ward, I immediately knew something was wrong.

Lorie was on the phone and not standing normally. Some nurses were hovering about her. I attended my wife and learned that she had just been in the bathroom and passed a blood clot the size of a baseball. The doctor told her that he would have someone in Winchester check her out in a little while. Lorie expressed an interest in scrubbing up to see Katie while we waited, so we did just that.

Lorie was at the sink scrubbing when her face went white and her legs started to wobble. The pediatrician told her to sit down immediately and the nurses cleared a chair for her. My hands were soaped up to the elbows. I learned later that Lorie had started to gush blood.

So, there I stood. On one side of me, my wife was bleeding vaginally and feeling weak and dizzy, on the other side I could hear Katie crying. For a moment, I thought the insanity was starting again.

Lorie looked at me, her face was terribly white, and she winked and nodded. I finished scrubbing and went in to attend to Katie.

Katie was fine, just unattended for a few moments while the nurse cared for another infant. I rubbed her chest and whispered some greetings. The nurse asked if Lorie could feed her and I said 'Not right now'. She explained that she was just getting ready to bottle feed Katie, and would I like to do it. Of course I would like to do it.

I picked up Katie and ignored the nurse while she told me how to pick up a baby. I sat down and grabbed the bottle, ignoring the nurse who was telling me how to feed the baby. I teased Katie's lips with a drop of milk, she opened her mouth and I inserted the nipple. I was feeding Katie for the first time. She looked very happy, and was staring at me with wide-open eyes.

I'll never be able to experience what Lorie experiences when she breast feeds. But, Lorie has in the past expressed jealousy over what I experience in lieu of breast-feeding. I have to placate and feed the baby without simply sticking a nipple in the mouth. That is much harder.

Katie sucked on her bottle and stared into my eyes. She had dark blue eyes. Her left cheek was all red from her scratching herself with her long nails. Her hair was still matted and dirty from birth, but she was scheduled for a bath later tonight. I spoke to her while she ate. My voice did that super cool thing where it goes low in my throat and vibrates through my chest. She could 'feel' me talking as well as hear me. She liked it.

I told her about how worried we were. I told her about my story and all the messages of support we had gotten from various friends. I told her about all the people who were worried about her.

I told her about my co-workers at UHD. All of whom had gotten the first part of her birth story, which ended on a cliff hangar. So they were all probably in severe suspense as to how she was doing.

I told her about my buddy, Linda Brockman. Who had been kind enough to lend us her cell phone for a couple of weeks because of Katie's impending birth. I told her that we had the phone much longer than expected because Katie felt it necessary to flirt with us on when exactly she would make her appearance.

I told her about my buddy, Jamie Trimmer. Who takes the time to bring me back to reality every time I write an overly dramatic and self-important email. He's truly a friend to step forward and remind you that you're taking yourself entirely too seriously.

I told her about my buddy, Bill Wakefield, and his wife Elizabeth. Who wanted to show their support by visiting and being with us.

I told her about her Grandmother Dill and her Great-Grandmother Dill, the women that went before Lorie in producing Dill's, the women strong enough to go first.

I told her about her Grammy Richards and Grammy's part in producing children. I told her to be careful what she says to Grammy, because Grammy cries real easy. Grammy had done a lot of crying today.

I told her about her Grandfather Dill and her Gramps Richards. Two men who couldn't be more different, but that she was lucky to get variety in the style of grandparent love.

I told her about God. I told her how God had made me strong, Lorie stronger, and Katie entirely too cute for words.

And lastly...I told her about the Aquaman Pewter Figure that had shipped to my comic store earlier that day. And I told her about the Green Lantern PVC set series II that had shipped last week. I told her I was supposed to pick these things up today, but I couldn't because she was in place that had the words 'intensive care' in the title. I told her about the latest happenings in the Justice League. I told her about Hawkman's return in the pages of JSA. I told her about Aquaman's cameo in Green Arrow #3. I told her about Ed McGuinesses' work on Superman. I told her about my collection and all the toys that she wouldn't be allowed to play with.

She seemed to enjoy hearing me talk about comics the best.

Hey. Maybe I do have my uses.

Lorie came in to tell me the doctor's advised her to rest. Essentially, she was released from care WAY too early so that we could visit Katie in a hospital thirty minutes away. She should still be in a hospital bed, and instead she's running around and making long car trips. Rest was all she needed.

We said good-bye to Katie and went home.

Later that evening, I lied down to try to sleep. My head immediately filled with hospitals and babies and work projects and Lorie in pain and blood. Lots of blood. This just wasn't going to do. I couldn't sleep easily with these thoughts, and I dreaded the dreams I would have. I got up with the intent to change my patterns of thought.

I looked in on Ashton, sleeping peacefully and drooling. Much like his mother on a normal night.

I went towards the comic sanctuary, but remembered at the last moment that Gramps Richards was in there sleeping. Shouldn't disturb him.

I went to my bag and pulled out a soft cover trade paperback. 'Superman in the Seventies'. I flipped it open, chose a story from 1974, and settled in to read 'Make Way for Captain Thunder', in which Superman meets a poor imitation of Captain Marvel. Great story.

I dreamed normally. There were capes and flight and heroes and world-threatening situations and damsels in distress. It was great.

DCD

Copyright 2003 David Charles Dill Jr.