This will be short. It's been a long trying day filled with headaches both figurative and literal.
He still won't eat the formula.
Dr. P said to keep trying but wasn't hopeful. She put in a call to the GI doc to discuss the situation.
We see the GI doc tomorrow. Dr. P told me to pack an overnight bag. She anticipates that we'll be admitted to the hospital after the appointment.
At leat this time I get to pack. It'll be a new experience being in the hospital with clean clothes.
I'm worried and anxious and relieved and guilt-ridden.
I dread the poking and prodding and general baby torture. I dread hospital beds and frequent nurse interuptions. I dread piss poor TV and hospital food.
I'm relieved someone is finally taking us seriously and we might get some answers.
I feel guilty that I feel relieved. The first time someone tries to shove a tube down his nose and he cries I may just implode from it.
But I know it has to be done. He can't starve to death.
I had a long talk with him earlier and explained that tomorrow is probably going to be a seriously shitty day. I told him how sorry I was but that I promised it was only because we were left with no other choices and only because we loved him.
I'm not sure he was convinced.
I feel a little like I'm leaving him for the wolves. Only I'm going with him to watch the gore.
I could really use about 300 hugs, 12 hours of sleep, a large margarita and infinite prayers about now.
Off to bed..