On Wednesday morning, November 2, some mix of barometric pressure, Carolyn's body, and her little passenger's, led to the birth of Dawson. He came early but he came strong, 4 lbs, 12 oz, and 18.25 inches of pure Bradford boy. Because of his gestational age of 34 weeks, and despite his clean bill of health, a fairly lengthy NICU stay was required by the Pediatric doctors at Denver Health. It was a joyful time, despite the barrage of personnel and equipment we all had to deal with for his first several days. We were able to spend as much as 24 hours a day with him, and we did very nearly that (relying on the NICU nurses as Denver's most expensive and skilled babysitters for an hour or two, here and there).
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The little man tried a few different feeding techniques to avoid "nipple confusion" but in the end, a mix of bottle and breastfeeding allowed him to go home. Here, he's fed through a tiny tube as he sucks on mom's finger.
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The monitoring and other equipment. Most of it went unused for his stay but it made for a Gilliam-esque setting for our stay.
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Each limb had a monitor of some sort in use for the first few hours of his life. Over the days, these would come off one by one to reveal our son.
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Bubbles indicated that he was producing a needed substance to help his premature little lungs do their job.
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Mom checking out his stats. He never produced a troubling rate or level during our stay.
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