hospitals, shmospitals

Today was exciting. My nephew was born. My parent’s first grandchild. My first nephew. You get the idea.

After dropping off mom to get her trigger point injections, Jacob and I called to see if we could come visit the baby. Tragedies of tragedies, it turned out (which we only discovered standing forlornly in the entryway) that Jacob couldn’t come inside the maternity ward. Because he was thirteen.  An 18 year old adult with a cough could. But because it is flu and cold season, children were forbidden. Which pretty much led to a disappointing time. My brother, Scott (the new dad) was mad. I was about to burst into tears as I couldn’t imagine not seeing the baby, but how could I go in and leave Jacob out by himself.

Eventually, Scott went and talked to the nurses some more, and this was the special dispensation they made.

Scott could wheel the baby into the “closed during the flu season” patient lounge and Jacob and I could stand at the window and look into see the baby.

It was precious. And ridiculously sad at the same time. I felt like I was transported to the “dark ages” where babies could only be seen by lining up at the window in the hospital.

As Jacob and I trudged, somewhat despondently back to the car, I said, “That was crazy, it was like a tv show, or something. I can’t believe they wouldn’t let us in.” Jacob agreed and said “Yeah, just like The Middle.” And yup, he was right.