Lullaby

The only good thing I can think of about being stuck in the hospital when your baby isn't all that well is that you can't get on the internet and scare yourself stupid with forum posts.

'I did X to my baby and now he's officially brain damaged! :)'
'Dont want to scare you hun but we had that and fifteen minutes later my husband was arrested for murder!'
'IMHO all mothers who think like that are not fit and oughtn't not to have babys'
The top 15 signs YOUR baby is about to explode, No.1 - a picture of Angelina Jolie Breastfeeding!'

Freja has a touch of jaundice, so she's got a brilliant instant tan. It's because she's premature, her liver wasn't quite ready to deal with the sudden demands of breathing and blood cells and all this work and stress dear god. I know how her liver feels.

It's not serious. If it was serious, which it isn't, we're in a hospital where they know how to deal with it (a sunlamp, amazingly) and it soon wouldn't be serious. Seriously, stop worrying about it and try and get some sleep. I'm serious, it really isn't a serious problem.

But what if it is?

It all gets a bit much for me. My wife has a fond memory of a pair of midwives coming in to weigh Freja (who is relentlessly gaining weight despite her striking colour) and measure her bilirubin. As they took Freja, I was crooning tunelessly to keep her reassured. I'd been doing this for some hours. It seemed like the right thing to do.

Wife and midwives exchanged glances at this point, because I was actually on the other side of the room to the baby, walking in erratic circles. I missed their looks, I was trying to think of a rhyme to 'Daddy's going to sing you a lullaby.' 'And if this lullaby won't work, Daddy's going to sleep on the psyche ward,' for example.

"Oj, poppa sjunger," ('Ah, Daddy's singing') one midwife said, wisely. I believe I nodded, satisfied that I was being a good Dad. Nobody tried to stop me, which is just as well, as I think that tenuously-held tune was just about the only thread keeping my mind intact by then. I carried on singing pseudorhymes unabated throughout the consultation.

Everything just seemed too much worry, beyond staying still in the little hospital room and enjoying time with my family (until the psychiatric team were properly notified, at least). Taking her for her first walk round the snowy hospital grounds reduced me to a whimpering wreck. All those 'what if' questions that have no answers. What if it's serious? What if she gets too cold? What if an eagle swoops down and carries her off? Does the insurance cover eagles? We have to call them! Now! Hello, is that Eagle Insurance? Take all our money!

We were actually sent home after two more days. Although her bilirubin is up a little, and although we have to go back to the hospital for daily tests, she's perfectly happy, she's doing very well indeed. Going home for the first time was wonderful. We used the new cot and blankets and ate sushi for the first time in ages and relaxed just a tiny bit.

Then I went on the internet, of course, and totally ruined any peace of mind I've ever had. So it all balanced out.

'How one newborn baby gained super-white teeth by following this weird old tip the doctors don't want you to know!'