The Brudam Brigade: Our complicated and emotional journey HOME . . .

Well, we finally made it back to Dallas on Wednesday night, more than 2.5 weeks after arriving in California. What was supposed to be a simple turn around trip became a more complicated affair than we ever could have bargained for. That being said, there is always a silver lining and ours was the AMAZING intensive training we received from the LLU staff.

Well, over the 14 days in Loma Linda, Bruce and I were an ever present fixture in the NICU. Whenever visiting hours were open, we were there. And whenever the doctors made rounds, we were there. During these rounds, imagine me to be much like a screeching parrot repeating the one phrase my owner had taught me, "We're flying home as soon as we're discharged, so please take that into consideration when releasing us." I mean, it got to the point where Bruce, the KING of communication, was telling me to lay off the "Polly Want A Cracker" act. So imagine our surprise when, after getting the green light for discharge, we show up at 2.00p to take them home and Bruce is greeted by our new attending physician with the following conversation:

Doctor Feelgoodstein: I hear you're thinking of flying home tomorrow
Bruce (Blissfully naive): Absolutely - we are so excited to get these boys home!
Dr. F: Well, unfortunately, I just don't think it's a good idea to fly them home. I don't think their lungs can handle the air pressure and shouldn't travel by plane for a while.
B: Really? That seems a bit unfortunate...it's going to be quite a long drive home.
Dr. F: Well, driving really isn't an option either. You see, this is what we call "mountains" and the boys shouldn't get above 3,000 feet for at least 4-6 months. You can consider driving up to Canada and then back down to Dallas.
B (internal alarms on High Alert): With all due respect, doctor, this is a bit shocking as my broken record of a husband has told everyone who would listen about our travel plans.
Dr. F: Well, I'd be comfortable releasing them only if they flew home with oxygen support, a pulse oxymeter and a Respiratory Therapist.

That's all my man needed - A TASK LIST!!! Within minutes, Bruce is feverishly making phone calls and arranging transport of oxygen tanks, calling American Airlines for a ticket for the Respiratory Therapist while I, judging by the photo below, was updating my Facebook status or stumped on the word scramble of the day, "loev."

And it wouldn't be a Brudam experience without a wrinkle within a wrinkle. Midway through Bruce announcing he'd checked all of his task boxes, some random person decides to interject her opinion on the situation using words like "liability," "litigation" and "license" (She apparently loves alliteration). All of a sudden, our case worker says she wants to try to arrange a private medical transport back to Dallas. REALLY? I mean, we're already jokingly referred to as "chichi" by our friends and all we needed was to bring our babies home on a private plane. Our reputation would be galvanized and our friends would make fun of us until their throats were hoarse.

Bruce then channeled his best Julia Sugarbaker announcing to all (with a slight Southern accent) that we were leaving today, we were leaving with our babies and they'd have to pry those babies from his cold, dead hands. I swear I saw 12 nurses jump to their feet for sixteen and one-half minutes of uninterrupted thunderous ovation as flames illuminated his tear-stained face! And that, my friends - just so you will know - and your children will someday know - is the night the lights went out in Georgia...er I mean, Loma Linda!

Lo and behold, we were discharged from the nursery about an hour later and at the hotel soon after. Avo finally got to hold the babies and she hugged them with all of her might. And Bruce looks infinitely more relaxed holding the babies in the comfort of our hotel room.