Oh, hell. I'll just admit it. I took the day off. I did glamourous stuff like clean the kitchen and put a month's worth of milk in the deep freezer and attempt to get the dog fug out of the couch slipcover. Sarah helped me sweep the floors and wash a week's worth of laundry. It sucked, but at least I'm not grossed out by my own home.
Ooh, ooh, I thought of something Jane-related that happened today. Sarah and I cleaned her crib. Yes, the one we won't need until Christmas. Listen, people, we're in VERMONT. If I didn't get that thing out of the garage now it could very well have been snowed in until next April.
Tom did call down to hospital a couple times today to keep tabs. She's at 42% right now, and satting at 96 because she just had one of her by-now-notorious rocket poops. This makes four isolette changes in, like, two weeks? Maybe five. Not to mention numerous full-bedding switches and countless wardrobe adjustments. Plenty of preemies have major issues with their digestive systems not functioning properly. Jane, thank Deity Of Your Choice, is not one of those kids.
Anyway, she's spent an entire 24 hours under 50% oxygen even as they keep turning down her vent support. She's a rock star, our girl.