Now that we’re home, I think we can breathe a little easier. I fed Namine some applesauce and pureed bananas (neither of which she ate much), but I think that after being used to feeding herself, it’s somewhat frustrating to be fed by someone else again. We are willing to remove her arm restraints while she gives herself something to drink. I have lauded the Boon cup before, and I’ll do so again. Its usefulness is evident in this case: not only does it allow Namine a measure of self-reliance, which she craves like a drowning man water, but it requires the use of both hands. This means that while she is holding the cup, there is no danger of her putting her fingers in her mouth.
I had something akin to a panic attack earlier today. I think it’s passed, but I suppose I’ll find out when I try feeding Namine again. I suppose it’s a good thing that the doctors put the fear of God in you, with regard to the care of a newly surgery’d (shush, it is too a word) child, but on the other hand, it makes one nervous at home, where there are no doctors to ask if you are doing it wrong. I mean, all I can do is my best, right? All rationalization aside, I never feel that my best is ever good enough.
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