I'm not hooking Blaise up to her feeding pump tonight. In fact, she hasn't been hooked up since Friday. When the home medical supply company called this afternoon about next month's order, I didn't place one. We only get pump bags and formula from them, but we don't need more pump bags and we're using a different formula now. It's a big change and it feels a little strange. Don't get me wrong; it's great! But I keep feeling like I'm forgetting something and there's always the nagging worry that she won't eat enough and won't grow. Yes, I worry about that even when she's shoving 6 cheerios in her mouth at a time. It's hard to shake 15 months of worry about food and growth.
Last week, we were telling someone the story of Blaise's first few months and we realized that it's been nearly a year since her second surgery and more than a year since the prescient fortune cookie. The progression since has been slow and steady and positive pretty much all the way. The tube is the last outward sign of all the craziness, giant scars notwithstanding. Now we have to learn to be parents of a more-or-less healthy kid. I'm reminded of the day we had to teach Ben to change a diaper on a baby *without* an ostomy. It's pretty easy by comparison.