I got into the hospital today, and TK had his feeding tube out! WOAH - he gets that out and has 48 hours of not needing it (meaning taking bottles) he can COME HOME. After 8 LOOOOONG weeks.
But no. Right away the nurse (whom I have nicknamed Nurse Bug Eyes, for self explanatory reasons) says, "Oh, he hasn't been doing well, I'm going to be putting it back in." Humph. Then she insisted that she was going to tube feed him his next feed, when I was right there to feed him. Um, no. I know my son, and he's wide awake, I at least want to try. If he doesn't do well, I won't push him too hard - that might cause him to backslide into his old non-eating ways - but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try.
So, she put the tube in. I'm not going to argue, because TK would get seriously upset if he had eaten half a bottle or so and then gets tubed, too. I've upset him after he's eaten, and very little is less fun than having milk spit up and coming out your baby's nose. He doesn't much care for it, either.
Then I fed him. He ate the whole bottle in less than 10 minutes, with no problems. WHO'S THE MOMMA?! I must gloat.
Fortunately, his primary nurse, who is a goddess, is working tonight. I know I can count on her to listen.
Seven weeks old, and already a ham: