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).
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.
The monitoring and other equipment. Most of it went unused for his stay but it made for a Gilliam-esque setting for our stay.
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.
Bubbles indicated that he was producing a needed substance to help his premature little lungs do their job.
Mom checking out his stats. He never produced a troubling rate or level during our stay.