No nurses to help me with the crying baby?

Leaving the hospital was a monstrous task. We dragged our feet trying to absorb as much information as we could from the hospital staff. I had thought we would be ushered into a new parents class where they would show us how to bath a baby and all that jazz. Finally I asked about it and was informed there was a video tape we could watch in our closet. Dissappointed we pulled it out and watched it. It was informative but I think the hands on approach would have stuck with me better.

When we tried to leave, however, it seemed as thought the staff that had been dropping hints about us leaving suddenly didn't want us to leave. It seemed to take forever for a nurse to come in and ok our infant car seat and give us one last leason in breast feeding a baby with jaundice. We finally were given the ok to go and we went to get our hospital pictures which weren't taken by a professional photographer but by a kiosk near the nurses station. The cool thing about it was you laid your baby in the bassinet and centered him in the middle of the camera, which you could see on the computer screen, and then you could take as many pictures as you wanted (15 at a time). You then chose your four favorites, put in the baby's information, your email address, and it printed out this certificate looking picture with all four pictures on it. You then had the option of purchasing a package which we didn't. It was time consuming however and threatened to finally break Walter and my good spirits. We were running on fumes and having to collaborate on which four pictures we thought were the best was threatening to make us have an argument. We weren't willing to leave the hospital however without trying to get the very best pictures. Soon we were in the car and my four hours of daily commuting by car and bus seemed to pay off and Padon was fast asleep.
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We got home in time to unpack, set the timer for 1 1/2 hours ( time mandated to us by the hospital staff on how often to feed our jaundiced bean), and climbed in bed. It seemed just a couple minutes before Padon was crying and my brain for a second paused for the now non-existent hospital door to open and for a nurse to swing in saying "now let me tell you how to handle this situation." A split second later I realized I was on my own and I my chest muscles tightened panicking at my perceived inability to take care of this precious being. Minutes later, however, a warm bottle was in his mouth, and he was happily snacking away and I was lovingly taking in every crease, wrinkle and fuzzy hair, and melting into those slate gray eyes. We were going to be just fine and we were going to learn a lot together.