Soft baby

Duncan has been doing so well. It's really encouraging. It goes without saying that we're not out of the woods yet, so I keep wondering if I should be worrying more; but then I realize that worrying never helps. Over the last week or so he has been steadily gaining weight and tolerating more milk. I think they're increasing his feeds by 1cc or something every twelve hours -- if I remember right, they're feeding him every 3 hours. I just got back from the hospital. Right when I got there the nurse let me hold him. I didn't hold him skin-to-skin, but just in my arms; last night was the first time I held him that way. I was worried that I would freak out about him being hurt in transport from the incubator (I didn't). Then when I saw the nurse getting ready to move him to my arms, I worried again that the nurses sometimes seem to pick him up (with all the wires attached) somewhat carelessly (O.K., not carelessly, but if I were doing it, I would be freaking out, so it's probably good that I don't do it.) and that the they'll trip on the wires or a wire will get caught and yank him out of their arms. All right, this is enough. I need to stop with all the panic. Holding him last night was so sweet-- I took the liberty to lift him up a bit and bend down a bit and gently kiss his head. His hair and skin are softer than anything else on this planet, but to hold and kiss him -- sublime. I hefted him in my arms several times, marveling at how light he is (2 pounds 12 ounces now). He's so much stronger now though. While laying on his back it's like he can raise his whole body on his head and feet. My mom went to see him today while he was having some "tummy time" and she said he raised his head up a few times. The nurses all remark how he gives them a hard time, which is a good sign-- he's not lethargic. Praying for good things.