Sarah made an appropriate comment today that sort of sums up Oliver’s second day: “I feel more like a patient than I feel like a mom.”

That’s just how it’s been. Oliver’s blood sugar levels still aren’t consistently high enough for him to be released from the special care nursery. So I can only take one guest in to see him at a time. And I’ve only been able to touch him a few times today due to a rude, rude, rude nurse. Wow is she rude. I’m about to unleash an F-bomb-filled tirade in her direction if she tells me not to tough MY SON one more time.

Sarah, bless her heart, only got to see Oliver for about five minutes today. She was going to feed him a bottle, so we got her out of bed for the first time, put her into a wheelchair and rolled her down to the nursery. Oliver was placed in her arms … for about five seconds. Then Sarah said, “Justin, take him. I’m too weak, and I feel like I’m going to pass out. I need to go lay down.” And that was that. Sarah’s only been able to see photographic and video evidence of our cute namesake.

Oliver has to hit a specific target for blood sugar every three hours for 15 more hours before they even CONSIDER letting him out of the special care nursery and into our room. It’s frustrating, but we waited such a darn long time for this baby that another day apart is something we’re willing to deal with. It just hurts knowing that we could be holding him right now and staring into his cute little face.